After Maoist Protests, Nepal Faces a Murky Future

Not long ago, unprecedented change seemed to be sweeping the mountainous nation of Nepal. Following the end of a violent civil war in 2006 and a historic election in 2008, the Himalayan kingdom, ruled for decades by the almost divine right of its monarchs, became a secular republic. Maoist rebels, who once preached armed struggle and proletarian revolution, donned suits and went about promoting capitalist industry. But since then, Nepal's fortunes have hardly improved. Indeed, for many Nepalis, the country's dream of transformation has turned into an interminable nightmare.

Last week, traffic in Kathmandu was bullied off the streets as tens of thousands of Maoist protesters hoping to topple the current government barricaded stretches of the capital's main road on May 4. Countless businesses were forced to shutter, costing Nepal's meager economy an estimated $300 million over the six days of the demonstrations. The strike was only lifted on the night of May 7 after widespread anger and counter-protests — as well as reports of dysentery and diarrhea among tired Maoist activists — apparently convinced the Maoist leadership to back down.

But the way forward is as uncertain as ever. After waging a decade-long war against the royalist state that saw the deaths of over 13,000 people, the Maoists became the driving force of a peace process meant to usher in a new democratic era for Nepal. In a landmark April 2008 election, they won the majority of seats and formed the government that would, in theory, draft a new constitution and steer Nepal away from the great inequities of its monarchical past. Yet little was achieved in a country riven by political factions and feudal enmities; last May, the Maoists backed away from power when their firing of the country's army chief, a longtime foe, was blocked by other parties in government.

Opponents have questioned the Maoists' ability to truly renounce their militant past — a fear made all the more real by recent fiery proclamations of Pushpa Kamal Dahal, the Maoist leader better known by his nom de guerre, Prachanda, meaning the "fierce one." On Saturday, the day after lifting the general strike, he thundered to a mass rally in Kathmandu that the strike that had crippled the nation for a week "was only a dress rehearsal... We will put on the real show in the days to come." Since the strike has been called off, there have been reports of fresh protests and disturbances.

The Maoists have refused recent overtures to sit down to talks with the government, an ungainly coalition of 22 parties patched together to replace the Maoist-dominated administration. Critics, the Maoists chief among them, say the present regime is weak, corrupt and lacks a popular mandate. Dinanath Sharma, a Maoist spokesman, calls it "unnaturally formed. It's undemocratic and against the spirit of the peace process." Many Maoist supporters who flocked to the capital to participate in last week's lockdown have no intention of disbanding. "I will stay in Kathmandu as long as the movement continues," says Ashok Shrestha, a Maoist party worker from the west of the country, now camped out with colleagues in the corridors of a shopping complex in the capital.

Key to the conflict has been the fate of thousands of Maoist soldiers still housed in U.N.-monitored cantonments across the country — according to various agreements, they are expected to integrate with the same Nepali Army they once bitterly opposed. The deadline for the process has passed and it has yet to happen. Both sides accuse the other of having their own agendas for delaying this vital step toward political unity: the Maoists see themselves arrayed against an old guard eager to return to the royalist era; opponents think the Maoists ultimately do not want to shed their fatigues for civilian life and democratic politics. Pradeep Gyawali, a prominent politician within the government, speaks darkly of the Maoists' intentions. "This strike was a trial run for an urban uprising," Gyawali says, adding that Prachanda's cadres received inspiration from the success of the recent mass agitations in Thailand and Kyrgyzstan that convulsed the politics of both countries.

Meanwhile, the country teeters toward a precipice. Nepal's elected assembly was supposed to have ratified a new constitution by May 28. But the parties, including the Maoists, are nowhere close to an agreement by that date, after which the interim charter that in essence underpins the whole state of affairs in the fragile nation will expire. It's a surreal and unsettling prospect for most Nepalis, who had high hopes for the much-vaunted peace process. "The political parties are steeped in petty interest," says Lokraj Baral, a leading Kathmandu-based commentator. "They have all forgotten the crucial task of drafting a constitution. They lack commitment to the larger interest of the country."

Nepal is in desperate need of broad-mindedness. Sandwiched between rising economic giants in India and China, the country is one of the poorest and worst performing in the world, with chronic food and power shortages and a steady drip of its 28 million population departing for menial jobs in the Gulf countries and Southeast Asia. It's not surprising that, with such entrenched poverty and political dysfunction, the grandstanding Maoists have attracted so vociferous a following. "None of the political parties looked after us, but the Maoists seemed honest," says Tilak Sirali, a 42-year-old laborer who left behind six children in his destitute village in the east to join the strikers in Kathmandu. "I came here with the hope that poor people like me will not have to suffer anymore."

But the Maoists' actions have only deepened the sense of crisis gripping Nepal. Krishna Sitaula, a party elder of the centrist Nepali Congress, hopes that last ditch talks in the coming weeks "can bring back the country from the brink." Foreign governments, a host of international organizations and NGOs as well as Kathmandu's civil society are all applying pressure on the various parties. If this fails, darker days loom. Says Sitaula: "A full-fledged confrontation is very likely."

Source: Time Magazine

Mr Nepal lucks out

But his country, of the same name, is struggling

ON MAY 23rd Madhav Kumar Nepal, the communist son of a Hindu priest, became Nepal’s new prime minister. He succeeds Pushpa Kamal Dahal, the country’s former Maoist leader—the main protagonist in a decade-long guerrilla war—who resigned on May 4th, leaving the government in limbo. Mr Nepal has the support of 21 of the 24 political parties in Nepal’s assembly; but this is scarcely democratic progress. The Maoists, who won 38% of the assembly’s seats in the country’s first post-conflict election last year, do not support him. Nor did Mr Nepal win either of the two seats he contested in the poll.

Among many threats to his new government, the Maoists loom large. Mr Dahal, who resigned after he was foiled in an effort to sack an old enemy, Nepal’s army chief, General Rookmangud Katawal, has said they remain committed to democracy. Yet the Maoists had until last week stopped the assembly functioning since their chief’s resignation. And they still demand that the president, Ram Baran Yadav, should reverse his decision to veto General Katawal’s sacking. Backed by Mr Nepal and his allies, who consider the army a last defence against the Maoists, Mr Yadav will not do this. On May 24th the Maoists spurned an invitation to join the new government.

With luck, it may survive for a while. It might even try easing the country’s severe power and fuel shortages. That would quell some of the growing discontent at the failure of any party to deliver on its election promises. But the early signs are not promising, with Mr Nepal’s coalition partners bitterly feuding over the division of cabinet spoils.

More important, there seems little prospect of this government making much progress on the assembly’s two main tasks—shepherding a complicated peace process and drafting a new constitution. Under Mr Dahal’s more solid government, including the Maoists, Mr Nepal’s UML (for Unified Marxist-Leninist) and other parties, these were daunting: the thorniest issue of the peace process, the fate of 23,000-odd former Maoist fighters, led indirectly to its demise. (Some of these fighters are to be recruited into the army; but General Katawal, to the Maoists’ fury, has resisted this.) And if Mr Nepal’s government cannot resolve these issues, it had better make way for one that can.

UN mired in deepening Nepal row

By Navin Singh Khadka 
BBC Nepali service

A fresh dispute over the true number of Nepal's former Maoist combatants - which was supposed to have been verified by the United Nations - has cast a deepening shadow over the entire peace process.

The dispute began earlier this month when a video emerged in which the Maoist leader, Prachanda, admitted that he had exaggerated the strength of his forces 18 months ago to have more bargaining power during peace negotiations.

His comments are damaging for the UN because it verified Maoist fighters who are sheltered in a number of camps and are to be either rehabilitated into civilian society or recruited into the security forces.

Prachanda's recent resignation as prime minister following a row with the president over the sacking of the head of the army - combined with the row over the video tape - have made Nepal's rocky journey to a fully-fledged constitutional republic even more fraught.

'Deliberately inflated'

For the UN, that is a worry - because its peace mission in Nepal, UNMIN, might not be able to leave the country as quickly as it wanted to.

In the video footage Prachanda said that 35,000 former fighters were registered with the UN - while the actual figure was 7,000-8,000.

"Had we revealed the real figure then, today we would have only around 4,000 of our fighters verified by the UN," he said in the video.

"Since we deliberately inflated the registration figure to 35,000, we [made a compromise and] managed to get around 20,000 of them verified."

The video was recorded in one of the UN-supervised camps where Prachanda was addressing his military commanders.

Under the peace agreement signed in 2006 at the end of Maoist insurgency, UNMIN has been monitoring the camps sheltering former Maoist fighters and supervising their arms.

Given that it had registered and verified all Maoist ex-combatants, the release of the video became an immediate cause of concern - and no doubt some embarrassment - for the UN.

UNMIN chief, Karin Landgren, has sought an explanation from Prachanda.

"When I spoke to him about it, he said he was speaking to his cadres at a time of extreme uncertainty in the peace process and that it was necessary to boost their morale," she said.

After the leak, Prachanda held a press conference to say whatever he had said in the video was in a "different context" and the figures of the ex-combatants mentioned did not include all the levels within the Maoist ranks and file.

'Look forward'

Regardless of its happiness or otherwise with Prachanda's explanation, the UN does not seem eager to allow the controversy to fester.

"Given that this process - the verification of combatants - was accepted by all sides in 2007, you really have to ask yourself if the best use of time now is to reopen the process the parties were all satisfied with," Ms Landgren told the BBC.

"Is it productive to reopen it now? People have been sitting in the cantonments for over two years now and UNMIN is not going to be here for ever, this exercise must look forward."

That UNMIN needs to pack up as soon as possible is something UN officials including Secretary General Ban Ki Moon have been repeatedly stressing.

At its inception in 2007, UNMIN's mandate was for a year. But that mandate has already been extended three times by six months.

With the current term expiring in the last week of July, UN officials had hoped that the most important part of the peace process - the integration and rehabilitation of Maoist ex-fighters - would be over by then.

But some major parties in the country do not see it that way and have expressed concern over Maoist "dissembling" in relation to the number of ex-combatants.

Leaders of the main opposition Nepali Congress have demanded that the former fighters be re-verified in the wake of the leaked video.

The centrist party's sister organisations have also submitted memorandums to UNMIN demanding re-verification.

Ms Landgren argues that if they want to do that, they will have to work through a committee formed to integrate former Maoist combatants into the national security forces or to rehabilitate them.

The committee has the representation of all the major parties.

But even when the Maoists were in government the committee hardly ever met - and things were much more stable then.

Now that the Maoists have quit the government following the controversy over army chief Gen Katawal - who was sacked by Prachanda but reinstated by the president - they have resorted to street protests, meaning that there is little chance of the committee reaching a consensus in the immediate future.

The eager-to-depart UN was already concerned about the delay in the peace process after the Maoists walked out of the government.

Now that the number of Maoist ex-fighters it verified is in dispute, it has many reasons to believe that departure will not happen in the immediate future.

How fierce will the Maoists be now?

Frustrated by an unbiddable general, the Maoists quit the government, and Nepal’s hopes for peace recede

IF NEPAL’S mainstream politicians, army and Big Brother, India did not like Maoists in government, it is hard to imagine how the scrubbed-up guerrillas will be improved out of it. The resignation of the Maoist prime minister, Pushpa Kamal Dahal, or Prachanda (“fierce”), on May 4th offers a chance to find out. Mr Dahal was protesting against a move by the president, egged on by the aforementioned critics, to reverse his sacking of the country’s army chief, General Rookmangud Katawal. Unless President Ram Baran Yadav relents, the Maoists say they will not rejoin the government. The debacle has jeopardised an already flagging peace process.

General Katawal deserved the boot. A devotee of Nepal’s deposed king, Gyanendra, whose office was abolished last year to draw the Maoists into Nepal’s first post-war election, he has never hidden his hatred for his former foes in a decade-long conflict. In December, he refused to curtail a recruitment drive, which the UN called a violation of the 2006 peace agreement. When the government then refused his request to extend the service of eight brigadier-generals, he again resisted. After he forbade the army to take part in an athletics contest last month because the Maoists’ former army, currently corralled under UN supervision, was also to take part, the government asked General Katawal to explain himself on all three issues. His haughty response prompted Mr Dahal’s action.

The general’s insubordination conceals a more serious disagreement: over how to dispose of the Maoists’ former fighters. Under the terms of the peace agreement, negotiated between the Maoists and their political opponents under India’s aegis, some of the 23,000-odd corralled must be recruited into the army. The instrument of a power grab by Gyanendra in 2005, the army must meanwhile be made less elitist and more accountable. But General Katawal, with India’s blessing, has resisted these reforms. Pointing to the Maoists’ continuing revolutionary rhetoric, his backers argue that only an unreformed army can defend Nepal from its elected government. Kumar Madhav Nepal, a leader of a mainstream leftist party known as the UML, and touted as the next prime minister, says they “clearly want to capture power”.

The Maoists’ rhetoric is certainly worrying. So is the thuggery of their storm-trooping youth wing. Yet Maoist leaders also hint that their virulent rhetoric is to placate their frustrated rank-and-file. On May 6th, Mr Dahal said he would not join a national-unity government, as his opponents say they want, unless Mr Yadav reversed his decision; but the Maoists’ democratic commitment was unchanged.

No doubt, he has given reason to doubt this. Yet worries about how easily the army might be corrupted by Maoist recruitment may be overblown. And the peace process, which should also entail accounting for the war’s atrocities, is on hold. So is work on a drafting a new constitution, with which Nepal’s elected assembly is primarily entrusted. With almost half its two-year term gone, little progress has been made, and, needing a two-thirds majority, is unlikely while the Maoists, who control 38% of the house, are in opposition.

Even with more goodwill, this exercise would be contested. The Maoists, in a draft constitution released in March, demand an executive presidency and extreme devolution of powers from the centre to 13 ethnically-based provinces. The UML wants a ceremonial president, a directly elected prime minister and a similar devolution, but to less ethnically-tinged states. The Nepali Congress, the third main party, advocates a Westminster-style parliamentary system, and less devolution.

While squabbling continues in Kathmandu, organic devolution is taking place in many mutinous places. It is most extreme in the southern Terai region, where a 2006 insurrection by ethnic Madhesis has sparked agitations by their neighbours. A militant group of Tharus, who claim to be the region’s original inhabitants and 42% of its population (or double the government’s estimate), rose up this year in protest against their official classification as Madhesis, and to demand Tharu control of an autonomous Terai.

This week, in response to Mr Dahal’s resignation, the group ended its second two-week blockade of Kathmandu, which has worsened the capital’s existing fuel shortage. Asked when this agitation might resume, the group’s leader, a 34-year-old former Maoist fighter called Laxmi Tharu, replies cheerily: “As soon as the next government is formed."

The Economist

S’porean helped this prince, but...Can she help his kingdom?

(This is the final part of series of report in The New Paper on Nepal’s former crown prince, in which he talks about his life in S’pore and meet the Singaporean woman who helped him settle in.)

A SINGLE call made by this Singapore woman can apparently move mountains in Nepal.

A king even gave up his throne after MsAngella Cheng made a strategic call.

This happened in 2006, when thousands of students took to the streets of the capital Kathmandu in demonstrations against the monarchy soon after the Maoist rebels had come into power.

Ms Cheng’s friends in Nepal had asked her for help.

So she got on the phone with former long-time prime ministerG P Koirala, who was leading the demonstrations.

“I asked him to seek an audience with then-King Gyanendra and work out a solution,” she told The New Paper.

Mr Koirala went to the palace and negotiations began in earnest.

The final outcome?

The king agreed to abdicate in favour of his grandson, Hridayendra, who was then an infant, easing the tense atmosphere.

According to Ms Cheng, Mr Koirala remarked to her then that she deserved the Nobel Peace Prize for her peacemaker role.

Call opens prison doors

Last November, when two top politicians – husbands of her close friends – were arrested, she interceded on their behalf and went to visit them when they were behind bars. “It was no easy matter – the guards refused to let me through.

“So I made calls to the Chief of Police in one instance and a Major-General in the other, and the visits were allowed.

“Till today, their wives know that I am a friend in need, and whenever they know I am in Nepal, they will whip up a feast for me,” she said.

So how did a Singapore woman acquire so much influence there, with many friendships, including some in high places?

It all began more than 10 years ago, when she was introduced to the Nepali Royal Family.

“I helped (the late) Princess Shanti, the elder sister of King Birendra, to raise funds for the country’s orphans. She was Nepal’s Patron of Orphanages. I helped raise cash which I sent over, along with used clothes, books and computers.”

Princess Shanti was among those slain in the royal massacre of 2001 when Crown prince Dipendra went berserk and opened fire on members of the Royal Family at a palace party, killing nine of them before shooting himself.

Ms Cheng’s royal connections remain strong now.

When Prince Paras decided to stay in Singapore after the abolition of the monarchy, she helped him settle down, including finding him accommodation.

Can she be a kingmaker?

Ms Cheng has visited Nepal to set up libraries, teach the children English and even cooked for them, breaking her nails, she said with a hearty laugh.

She also purchased medical equipment for Nepal’s public hospitals and co-ordinated sponsorship attachments for doctors and nurses to be trained in Singapore to upgrade their skills so that they can improve public health care back home.

In time, she extended help to Mr Koirala to raise funds to bring in urgently-needed medical experts.

Ms Cheng, 45, plans to visit Nepal during Deepavali in October and seek an audience with prime minister Pushpa Kamal Dahal (alias Prachanda), during which she will offer him a plan which she thinks will unite the country.

Nepal is currently rocked by strife and dissent, split as it is by rifts between pro-monarchist and pro-republic factions.

“I will propose that we reinstate the monarchy, with the grandson of King Gyanendra, 6-year-old Hridayendra Bir Bikram Shah Dev, as king. He will not have executive power but will be more of a figurehead, and assigned the role of doing social work.”

Why the young man and not his father, Prince Paras?

Ms Cheng believes that Prince Paras would not be a good choice as he is not popular with the people, having, as he himself has admitted, made too many mistakes to inherit the royal mantle.

Restoring paradise

And the Singaporean believes her suggestion will bear fruit as she has two bargaining chips to persuade the Prachanda government to accept the return of the monarchy.

One, the country is in dire need of infrastructural development.

An architect by training and fluent in Nepali and Mandarin, she is accompanying the Prachanda government to China to have discussions with the Chinese government on starting a number of major infrastructural projects in Nepal.

Two, through some close contacts in the Japanese government, Ms Cheng is also trying to persuade Japan to undertake some similar infrastructional projects in Nepal.

Ms Cheng comes across as a woman determined to help set things right in a country famous for its natural beauty.

Nepal is home to Everest, the world's highest peak and Lumbini, the birth place of Buddha.

Ms Cheng enjoys doing social and community work so much that she quit a cushy job with a property developer to start a social enterprise, ChaCha Cottage Industry.

Her social mission and objective is to help unskilled single mothers (divorced and widowed) with home-based work, including making decorative scented candles, beauty soaps and beauty products and costume jewellery.

She hopes to empower these women to rebuild their lives and re-establish their self-esteem.

Profits from sales of these products are used to help families of these mothers pay for school uniforms, medical and miscellaneous expenses. Products made by ChaCha Cottage Industry are sold at Raffles Hotel Shop.

Said Ms Cheng: “I was once a single mum, and my journey as a single mum to a life of blessings, and wanting to move on from success to significance, spurred me to start this cottage industry.”

Now, Nepal is facing perhaps its most difficult time. Revenue from tourism, its main income earner, is falling as visitors are staying away because of the global recession.

The country is also plagued by shortages of all sorts and daily blackouts.

Ms Cheng feels she has a new peace mission to play and intends to return to Nepal soon.

Isn’t she afraid for her safety, given that the populace in Nepal is restive, crime is rampant and kidnappings take place almost every day?

“No, I know most of the politicians, including Prime Minister Prachanda, the Maoist rebel leader turned politician, and members of the royal family since 1981.

“ I have played many crucial roles in the country for the last 28 years, and the time has come for me to do my bit for the country again.”

Nepali PM says to complete peace in 4 to 5 months

By John Acher

OSLO (Reuters)- Nepalese Prime Minister Prachanda said Monday that his government aimed to complete a peace process in four to five months, roughly in time for when the mandate of a U.N. mission expires at the end of July.

A decade-long civil war in the Himalayan nation ended in 2006, and Prachanda's former Maoist rebels head a coalition government after a surprise election victory in April last year.

Nepal is under pressure to complete the peace process, which involves finding a future for former Maoist insurgents now in U.N. camps, before the U.N. mission's mandate runs out.

"I think now we are going to conclude this peace process within a couple of months. We have already decided a timetable to lead this process to conclusion in four to five months," Pushpa Kamal Dahal, who goes by his guerrilla name Prachanda, told a news conference during a two-day visit to Norway.

"We want to see this process to a logical conclusion in such a way that it can be a model of peace, particularly for south Asia," he said.

Prachanda said the country already had a "very inclusive national assembly" and has drafted a constitution that will provide for a federal democratic republic in Nepal, which abolished a 239-year-old monarchy last year.

The constitution is due to be ready by May 2010.

"Federalism is going to be one of the vital issues we will discuss in the constitutional assembly," he said after signing an agreement with Norway on a deal to expand cooperation in areas such as hydropower development and rural education.

An insufficient power supply has been crippling to the Nepalese economy, which relies heavily on foreign aid and remains among the poorest in the world despite the former Maoist rebels' pledges to create a "new Nepal."

The Norwegian firm SN Power, owned by state-owned utility Statkraft and state development fund Norfund, operates the Khimti hydroelectric plant east of Kathmandu, and the company aims to expand its portfolio of hydropower assets in Nepal.

"We have huge hydro (power) potential," said Prachanda, who was scheduled to visit a Norwegian hydropower plant near Oslo on Tuesday. "We want to learn and enhance the level of cooperation in the hydro sector with Norway."

Exclusive: Nepal's ex-crown prince Paras tells how royal massacre took place

‘The smell of burnt blood was horrible’

Killer prince charged into room dressed in army camouflage and armed with four guns

IT WAS the night that sounded the death knell for the monarchy of Nepal in more ways than one.

A fusillade of bullets wiped out 10 members of the royal family, including Birendra, the popular king.

The killing was brutal. A shot to the head ended the king’s life as he lay bleeding from shots fired earlier.The finger on the trigger was that of his embittered 30-year-old son, Dipendra.

He had fired three bursts, twice from an automatic pistol. He then let fly with an M16 rifle.

The royal massacre happened on 1 Jun 2001. In two months’ time, the royal survivors will once again mark the anniversary of the tragedy.

Eight years after that horrific bloodbath, Nepal’s last crown prince, Paras Bikram Shah, nephew of Birendra, is breaking his silence.

He wants to clear ugly, persistent rumours of his involvement in the incident, though a commission has cleared him of any complicity.

Reacting to recent reports that the current Nepali government might reopen the investigation into the massacre, Prince Paras, who is now largely based in Singapore, decided to speak to senior Singapore media men.

“The Nepali people need to know the truth,” he said.

Prince Paras, 37, spoke exclusively to The New Paper over two days in the past fortnight, first at the Raffles Town Club and then at his River Valley condominium unit.

He still shivers as he recalls that night of terror.

“It was utter pandemonium. The mortally wounded were groaning, blood was splattered on the walls and floor.

The survivors, including my wife, whimpered as they crouched, some hiding behind a sofa, as bullets ricocheted everywhere.”

As he spoke, Prince Paras’ face glistened with sweat. His orange juice stayed untouched throughout the three hour-long interview.

In his desire to get the story out, the pack-a-day smoker didn’t even pause to light a cigarette.

He said: “For four years after that massacre, I was not able to sleep. Till today, the nightmare keeps coming back to haunt me.”

After the turmoil of the dreadful incident, Prince Paras and a host of other witnesses told a commission of inquiry what they saw.

Over the years, the prince has had time to think and re-think about the events of that fateful night.

Only now are some of the pieces falling clearly into place, in his mind at least, he said.

Yet nothing seemed amiss that night as family members and relatives gathered for a party in the billiards room in Dipendra’s residence on the palace grounds. This was the custom on Friday nights.

There was no sense that their life of wealth and ease was about to change, that their world was about to come tumbling down.

At 8pm, there was the first hint of trouble, Prince Paras recalled.

“I got there a bit late, but Dipendra was staggering around in the room, as if he were drunk, as he usually was. But on this occasion, he did not reek of alcohol. An hour or so later, just as the king was about to enter the room, Dipendra collapsed.

“Looking back, I now realise he was pretending. His brother, Nirajan, and I carried him to his bedroom upstairs.

“We placed him on the bed and tried to remove the Glock pistol from the holster on his left hip so that he would be more comfortable. But he suddenly woke up and told us to leave it alone.

“Then, I noticed that his Colt M16 rifle was on the dressing table, outside the cupboard where it was usually kept. I did not make too much of it as he kept six or seven guns in his room. I left the room and rejoined the party.”

The king was mingling with the older generation.

Prince Paras was with the younger relatives in an alcove where they could smoke, partly out of sight of the elders.They put out their cigarettes when the king approached the bar near the alcove.

Then, it turned violent.

“Suddenly, Dipendra charged into the room. He had changed into army camouflage. The M16 was slung on his shoulders, together with a shotgun.

“His Glock pistol hung at his hip. He fired one burst into the ceiling with his Heckler & Koch MP5 sub-machine gun, then a burst at his father. His Majesty was hit by three bullets.

“Dipendra then moved out of the room, presumably to protect the entrance.

“ I watched in great shock. I was not able to move for at least 30 seconds. Then I pulled myself together. The king’s younger sister was cradling him, his head in her lap.”

Prince Paras paused as he reflected on the sequence of events. He recalled Prince Niranjan drawing his own pistol and laying it next to the king. He was the only other person in the room who was armed.

Runs after brother

Then Prince Niranjan ran after his brother, who was outside. Was Prince Niranjan offering the king his pistol to protect himself? Or did he want to confront his brother without further bloodshed?

Prince Paras continued: “Two to three minutes later, shots rang out. Niranjan was later found with a shot in the back and two in the head. I suspect he was shot when he refused to support Dipendra in his bid to seize power.”

The violence continued. Dipendra walked back in, this time wielding the M16, said Prince Paras.

“He walked up to his father and shot him in the head at point-blank range. There was no expression on his face as he kept his finger on the trigger.”

After that, Dipendra went “berserk”, said Prince Paras. “He shot at everybody in the room, anybody who moved. He must have let fly a total of 75 rounds.

“My mother took two shots in the shoulder and fell to the ground. Two other people fell on top of her, which was probably what saved her life. One of the bullets is lodged in her lung till today. Doctors say it’s too risky to extract it as it is close to her heart.”

The king’s sister, Princess Shoba, who was cradling him in her lap, put up her hand to shield herself. She lost a few fingers and there were burn marks on her face. She toppled over but she survived.

“The king’s younger brother was next to be gunned down.”

Where was Prince Paras at this time?

“We were crouching in the alcove and were fortunate not to be in the line of fire,” he said.
“I pushed everybody, including my wife, my sister and my cousins, behind the sofas.”

Then, a tinkling sound of bells outside the room caught Dipendra’s attention. It was his mother hurrying past, the sound coming from the anklets she wore.

She could have been going up to Dipendra’s bedroom to get a weapon, said Prince Paras.

“This is what I presumed happened next. Dipendra caught up with his mother at the top of the stairs and shot her. Her blood flowed down the stairs like a waterfall – it was still there long after her body was removed.”

The silence after the frenzied gunshots was deafening. The floor of the billiards room was slippery, with blood everywhere.

Price Paras stared into the distance as he recalled the horrific scene of carnage.

“The smell was horrible, that of burnt blood, the smell you get when people are shot at close range. Bodies were lying crumpled on the floor, people crying and asking for help.”

Where were the palace guards? Did they not hear the shots? They probably did.

Were they afraid to intervene or did they think Dipendra was shooting for amusement, as he sometimes did, at flower pots, at lizards?

There were times when he and his father used to test guns in the palace before deciding which one to buy for the military. Whatever the reason, they did not intervene.

The silence was broken by one final single shot, followed by a grunting sound.

Prince Paras said he heard the sound coming from near the pond in the garden. It was the same grunt he heard later from Dipendra when he took him to the hospital.

“That is why I believe he shot himself in the garden. The grunting sound was the same. It was like the groaning sound cats make at night.”

Dipendra was discovered later with a single bullet wound in the head.

But Prince Paras, who was still inside, said his priority was to tend to the people inside and get them of the palace.

“I telephoned the security people, who rushed the 14 injured, including the king and queen, to hospital. They broke a glass door to move the injured out.

“The royal couple were already dead.

“I took Dipendra and five other persons to hospital in a Landcruiser. He kept on making that grunting sound as he lay in the vehicle.”

Dipendra lived for another three days, during which time he was proclaimed king.

Prince Paras’ father, Gyanendra, who was away in Pokhara at the time, returned to the capital only two days after the shooting. Poor weather prevented his earlier return.

He became king after Dipendra’s death but was forced to give up the throne when the monarchy was abolished by the Maoist government last May.

The palace is today a national museum. The billiards room has been demolished.

Like the Nepalese monarchy, it is a thing of the past.

By Clement Mesenas & S Murali for The New Paper

********************************************* ************************
In The New Paper on Sunday (March 29, 2009), Nepal’s former crown prince revealed events that he said led his cousin to wipe out nearly all members of the royal family in 2001.

Nepal's ex-crown prince speaks about royal massacre

FORBIDDEN love is the oft-heard reason behind Nepal’s palace massacre when Dipendra Bikram Shah, then crown prince, ran amok.

But there’s more to this Shakespearean tragedy than meets the eye, said the last crown prince of the Himalayan kingdom, a cousin of the killer prince.

Opening up for the first time since the 2001 bloodbath that took place before his eyes, Prince Paras Bikram Shah, 37, said there was a web of deep-seated reasons that sparked the killing.

But the trigger was a thwarted multi-million-dollar arms deal that was to have been Prince Dipendra’s golden parachute to freedom if palace politics turned nasty.

Now largely based in Singapore, Prince Paras painted a vivid picture of palace intrigues in an exclusive interview.He has a reason for making these revelation now (see report at bottom left). He wants to tell the world how a gun deal helped destroy a long-running kingdom.

“The Nepali army was looking for a new weapon to replace the Belgian SLR. Dipendra liked the German Heckler & Koch G36 assault rifle, as opposed to the battle-tested Colt M16,” said Prince Paras, who was close to the younger generation of royals.

“But his father, His Majesty, did not agree. I know that they argued over it. Dipendra was frustrated. He wasn’t happy. He told me,” said Prince Paras.

According to Frontline, an Indian magazine, the crown prince was known to have a fetish for guns and would often test out the latest weaponry that the Royal Army was planning to buy.

50,000 guns

The German assault rifle had been short-listed by the army, which was in the market for 50,000 new guns.According to Prince Paras, his cousin’s advisers had been working on the deal, which could have brought the crown prince a windfall.

“That, to me, was the real trigger. The deal would have probably been for about 50,000 rifles, which at US$300 ($454) apiece, would work out to about US$15 million.”

But why would the prince need the money? Wasn’t the family’s net worth estimated to be more than US$200 million?“Yes, but I think he was already making plans for the possibility that he would have to leave the country suddenly if things didn’t work out for him.

“I think this was his back-up plan.”

The plan ultimately cost Prince Dipendra his life, when he shot himself after the massacre.
But what could be so bad as to lead a crown prince to plot such a bloody scheme?

The palace was a hotbed of contending interests, said Prince Paras.

“Dipendra had his reasons (to kill the king),” said Prince Paras, who left Nepal for Singapore last July after his country’s Maoist government abolished the monarchy.

Breaking his long silence on one of history’s bloodiest royal moments, Prince Paras told The New Paper that Prince Dipendra had not one but three reasons for wanting to kill his own father.
The first reason, according to Prince Paras, was there for everyone to see.

On 9 Nov 1990, King Birendra promulgated the new constitution and ended almost 30 years of absolute monarchy in which the palace had dominated every aspect of political life.

Said Prince Paras: “Dipendra was never the same after his father told him in 1990 about the plans to give up the monarchy.

“He never agreed with that as he wanted to rule the country. I think he started planning his moves then.”Prince Paras grew up with the crown prince as the two were just six months apart in age.

The second reason was his love for Devyani Rana. The royal family did not want Prince Dipendra to marry her as she was from a rival family.

Not drunk

Prince Paras dismissed the notion that his cousin had shot the family on impulse after drinking heavily that night.“He had talked to us (the younger generation of Nepali royalty) about it a year before it happened,” revealed Prince Paras.

“I remember it clearly. It was his birthday (in 2000) and he told all of us that he would bring down the ‘ivory tower’. But we didn’t take him seriously. How could we?

“This was the crown prince talking. He was going to be our king. And who would believe that he would kill his own father?”

But Prince Paras said he sensed something amiss on the night of the murders when he went to Prince Dipendra’s house for one of the family’s regular Friday night parties.

“Another cousin and I asked to be excused from the party because we wanted to go somewhere else. Usually he agreed, but this time Dipendra said no. He wanted us to be there.”

And once he got there, Prince Paras noticed that his cousin was behaving abnormally, acting as though he was drunk when he clearly was not.

“I know him and I know when he had had too much to drink. He said he had been drinking since the afternoon but there was no smell of alcohol on him.

“How can that be? If he had been drinking all the while, he should have been reeking. But there was no smell.”When the crown prince’s father came into view and was about to make his entrance, the prince “collapsed” on the floor, forcing Prince Paras and Prince Dipendra’s brother, Prince Niranjan, to help him up and take him back to his room.

But that was not the last they saw of Prince Dipendra.

In an act of extreme brutality, Prince Dipendra soon returned to slaughter his entire family.

Note: Nepal's ex-crown Prince Paras spoke to Singapore media men in an exclusive interview for The New Paper on Sunday, March 29, 2009. Reacting to recent reports that the current Nepali government might reopen the investigation into the massacre, he decided to speak to media in Singapore, where he has been living since July last year.

Nepal's Royal Palace: Versailles in green nylon

The ancient house of Shah had dodgy ideas on soft furnishings

THE stuffed tigers have seen better days. The big dynastic portraits, of double-chinned Nepali princes and their fair-skinned consorts, are catching dust. But the Narayanhiti Palace, Kathmandu’s recently-vacated royal residence, is less remarkable for its faded splendour than for its dreadful modern design.

Completed in 1969, on the site of an older palace, it is built in concrete and marble, with acres of laminated wood panelling and hideous pink carpet. The royal bedchamber, last occupied by King Gyanendra, whose 2005 coup led to the abolition last year of his 240-year-old Shah dynasty, is rather poky. A bedside clutter of family snapshots and porcelain knick-knacks is simply poignant.

Since it was opened to the public on February 26th, by the Maoist prime minister who chased out its occupants, the palace has had over 36,000 visitors. Some are angry. The banquet-hall, with seating for 110, stirs particular rage in a country where almost half the children under the age of five are chronically malnourished. Other visitors—perhaps 15% of the total, reckons Jayaram Mahajan, a former royal retainer who now runs the palace museum—come in reverence. As they enter, these pilgrims stoop to take a blessing from the floor. But most visitors, Mr Mahajan admits, are rather underwhelmed. Even to a poor Nepali, the palace is no Versailles.

With more royal trophies to go on display—including the crown jewels and a Daimler-Benz car given to Gyanendra’s grandfather by Hitler—the museum will improve. For now, its biggest draw is a patch of levelled ground beside the main palace. It is the site of a building, demolished by Gyanendra, where in 2001 his nephew, Crown Prince Dipendra, massacred his parents, the king and queen, and eight other relations. Helpful signs shows where each royal was killed. Beside a small pond, near where Dipendra shot his mother, Queen Aiswarya, then himself, bullet-holes are still visible.

Mr Mahajan seems to find little pleasure in his new job. “I wish the royal family had not been killed, and I wish the last king had not left the palace,” he says. It seems Gyanendra was not expecting to do so. Beside the main palace is a half-built, rain-damaged annexe, which Gyanendra had ordered for a new banquet-hall, not long before his abrupt retirement and exit.

The Economist, (Mar 27-Apr 2)

NEPAL: Ethnic identity crisis gathers momentum

KATHMANDU, 20 March 2009

At least two major ethnic groups in the southeastern Terai region bordering India have joined strikes and protests in recent weeks against their classification in the new draft constitution as Madhesi, Nepal's dominant ethnic group.

Tharu make up 6.75 percent of Nepal's 28 million inhabitants, according to the government's Central Bureau of Statistics, and have been galvanised by the Tharuhat Joint Struggle Committee.

"I'm a Tharu. That's my true identity. I'm not a Madhesi," Geeta Chaudhary, a student, told IRIN in Kathmandu.

This is a common sentiment among Tharus, the original inhabitants of the Terai. Despite their numbers, they are one of the most neglected, exploited and impoverished ethnic groups in Nepal.

Most were slaves for high caste landlords under the bonded labour system known as 'kamaiya', which was abolished in 2006. Even today, however, thousands of extremely poor and illiterate Tharu girls work as indentured servants.

"In many ways, we have been the worst victims of poverty and political neglect," said Chaudhary.

"It [the classification move] was a direct attack on our ethnic identity and an insult to the entire Tharu community," said Raj Kumar Lekhi, general secretary of Tharu Kalyankari Sabha, a prominent Tharu campaigning group.

According to the UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA), the recent strikes had a serious impact in terms of blocking supplies of food and petrol in hill areas, causing shortages and price hikes. Protestors also blocked the movement of humanitarian service vehicles and ambulances.

Muslims

Terai Muslims - some 4.3 percent of Nepal's population - are equally incensed, and joined the protests against their categorisation by the government as Madhesis purely because they live in the Terai.

Like the Tharu, Muslims have been on the margins of development and mainstream politics.
"We expected that our 'New Nepal' would not discriminate against us but we are still being treated as refugees," said Muslim journalist Rahamatulla Miya.

The "New Nepal" concept has been popular since the end of the decade-long armed conflict (1996-2006) which ended with the abolition of the 300-year-old monarchy, but for minority ethnic groups, the situation has barely changed.

"The Muslims want recognition of their identity and proper representation in the constitution and not to be categorised as Madhesi or any other community," said Attahar Hussain, president of Muslim Mukti Morcha, which rallies Nepalese Muslims.

Some Muslim activists told IRIN it was difficult to raise issues of discrimination and injustice without being accused of fuelling religious fundamentalism.

Still time

Tharu leader Lekhi explained that there was still time to get the draft constitution amended: "Our identity movement has been successful so far and there are signs that the government will agree to our demand."

An indication of the importance of the issue in Nepal is evident from interventions by Prime Minister Puspa Kamal Dahal, who has been in talks with leaders of the protests. Parliament is to hold a session on 29 March to address the demands of the various ethnic groups.


Source: IRIN