In the history of every nation, there are certain periods that can be characterised as ‘collective dementia’. The power of such dementia is so strong that reason falls from grace, self-reflection becomes unnecessary and the way out looks impossible. People largely become captives of a web of (in)significance they themselves have spun.

The persistent criticism of the so-called political elites of Nepal (PEON), by those who are too happy considering themselves progressives, suggests that we are stuck in one of these periods of collective dementia.

Who are our elites?

The role of elites in state affairs is a contentious issue almost everywhere. This is due to people’s changing perceptions of the state, which are conditioned by the ways in which they see their own lives at a particular point of time. Elites become good or evil depending on people’s diverse interests and experiences.

The debates and discussions on the concept of elites in our part of the world are rather exotic and perplexing. Part of the problem lies in the fact that the term itself carries a stigma, thanks to the so-called progressives who never fail to blame the elites whenever things go wrong. Due to the stigma associated with the concept, what is otherwise a pretty normal and even positive description becomes an ominous curse. Similarly, the contradiction between the characteristics of our society and the concept of the modern state prevents us from having a nuanced and pragmatic view of the nature and composition of elites.

The concept of elites exposes an interesting phenomenon of our modern history. It is clear that Nepal has been a country without elites who could potentially influence its social and political processes to a certain degree. The reason behind this could be that past autocratic rulers had a strategy to systematically prevent the existence of an elite group. As a result, as opposed to the West, the autocratic systems of Nepal revolved round a small coterie of rulers and their subjects—without any presence of a coherent group than can be labeled elite or nobility.

Nepal has political leaders, bureaucrats, businesspeople, academics and ordinary citizens who are rich and influential but they do not form an elite group. Their stratagems and spoils are too diverse, too inconsistent and too vague to represent an interest or a common point of view. Many of these rich and influential people, especially political leaders, can be blamed for many of our present-day problems. However, any assumption that they function or have functioned out of collective interest is not justified.

The categorisation of PEON, therefore, appears nothing more than a self-serving allegory that is useful to vent one’s anger or frustration but essentially possesses no substantive meaning.

The progressives

The use of the term pragatishil (progressive) in Nepal is equally interesting, if not bizarre. Following the independence movement in neighbouring India and our own movement against the Ranas, there was an expansion of communist ideology and its associated political culture in Nepal. Marxism and Leninism became popular ideologies among those who wanted ‘progressive transformation’. Consequently, it so happened that people who were working for communist parties or were faithful to them started to be known as pragatishil.

Over the next decade or two, a new pragatishil caste was born in Nepal. The term not only became the authority but also an identity of communist party cadres and believers. It is interesting that even those who opposed communist beliefs were happy to call the communists by this new name.

Following the second Janaandolan, people from all classes and creeds who were sympathetic to the Maoists, their insurgency and their agenda started fancying themselves as pragatishils. Those who were critical of the Maoists and their insurgency were seen as elites or status-quoists or even regressive.

The expansion of the meaning of pragatishil did not stop there. Today, people from different interests and backgrounds who support the Maoists’ outlook on the status of ethnic/indigenous and Madhesi groups and their proposal for state restructuring see themselves as pragatishils. With the proliferation of the ethnic/indigenous and Madhesi rights activism, the term has become a new sensation, a new topic for coffee guff, and a new basis for intellectual authority. This is most visible in newspaper opinion columns where writers compete among themselves to look more progressive than others.

Thanks to the relentless activism of the pragatishil, a cursory look at the opinion pieces in the mainstream media suggests that Nepal faces the imminent threat of a violent political movement from deprived and marginalised groups who are ‘not happy’ about the outcome of the recent Constituent Assembly election. According to these intellectuals, pragatishil forces have been strategically wiped out by some kind of grand conspiracy of the winning political parties. We are also led to believe that the outcome of the election does not embody people’s real mandate and interests and should not be taken seriously.

It is also ironic that new pragatishils, who scorn others’ views as being elitist, represent the highest echelon of Nepal’s social composition and enjoy the privileges which are beyond imagination for the so-called elites.

The fallout

The meaning attached with the terms elite and pragatishil on the basis of selective evidence and fuzzy anecdotes expose the superficial nature of our debates on social transformation. More worrying is the fact that the increasing

obsession with blaming and shaming, for which these terms are used, can prevent us from seeing the concrete potential for resolving our social and political problems. This dementia must end as early as possible.

Nepal’s task of building an inclusive, equitable state structure need not be jeopardised with the allegoric fear of non-existent elites. Labelling others political elites simply for holding a different opinion only exposes the lack of tolerance in us, and is perhaps our bigger challenge. The task of restructuring of state, which pragatishils are intent on owning exclusively, requires mutual respect and handholding. Intolerance and hatred only gives rise to new forms of dissent and exclusion.

It is nice to see oneself as a pragatishil. However, the structure of society and state is so dynamic and multi-dimensional that the overarching categorisation of beliefs and strategies is simply useless. Due to the excessive obsession with its self-image, the pragatishil lot has become unable to see beyond and beneath a few hollow jargons—such as right to one Madhes, one province; self-determination; and autonomy—and play a constructive role in promoting an informed debate on the agenda it supports. The progressive image is being understood as adequate and justified in itself.

For a better tomorrow, we need to come out of this web of (in)significance.

Pokharel is a Kathmandu-based political analyst and blogger