KATHMANDU: The pace of change has been as breathtaking as the Himalayan scenery. In just a few short weeks, Nepal has rediscovered democracy and brought 10 years of civil war tantalisingly close to an end.
On Friday, less than two months after King Gyanendra surrendered power in face of a popular uprising, the country’s new government struck a landmark deal with Maoist rebels and invited them to join an interim administration.
This week Nepalese are asking themselves if it is all too good to be true and the international community is wondering if a group labelled terrorist is serious about joining the democratic mainstream.
“The basic question is whether the Maoists can be trusted or not,” said Kunda Dixit, editor of the English-language Nepali Times. “The main thing is that they didn’t renounce violence, and they didn’t give a timetable for decommissioning their weapons.”
Nepal’s new government has already stripped the king of almost all his powers, a momentous change for a country where the monarch was traditionally seen as a Hindu god.
It agreed a ceasefire with the rebels and also granted their main demand — that elections be held for a special assembly to draw up a new constitution and review the future of the monarchy.
The Maoists say they will accept the outcome of that vote come what may — even if they don’t get the republic they have been fighting for since 1996. But on the question of surrendering their weapons, the insurgents are dragging their heels.
In an interview with Reuters last week, rebel chief Prachanda suggested his “People’s Liberation Army” — as well as the government’s army — should be confined to camps during the constituent assembly elections, under international supervision.
That idea does not go down well with mainstream politicians, nor with Nepal’s key international allies. They want to see the weapons permanently out of rebel hands before any vote is held.
“You cannot have a free and fair election under the shadow of the gun,” British Ambassador Keith Bloomfield told Reuters.
“The Maoists cannot have the opportunity to reject the outcome of the constituent assembly if they choose, and go back to the jungle,” he said. “That is the bottom line.”
It is a widely shared view, even if the United States, which officially classifies the Maoists as a terrorist group, is much more reluctant to give the rebels the benefit of the doubt than giant neighbour India.
New Delhi brokered the king’s climbdown in April, as well as the rapprochement between the parties and the Maoists, hosting a series of secret meetings last year. Hopes continue to be pinned on Indian influence to bridge the gap over rebel arms.
In the meantime, the Maoists are still objects of fear for many residents of Nepal’s towns and villages, where farmers and businessmen alike complain of intimidation and extortion.
“There is no doubt people will be afraid and they won’t be able to vote freely,” said a farmer from the southern village of Betahani, close to the Indian border. “The Maoists have to give up their arms, they have to deposit them.”
Speaking to Reuters last week Maoist chief Prachanda appealed for the trust of political parties and the outside world. But at the same time, analysts say, he also has to watch his own back.
Some hardline commanders are believed to be unhappy with the peace process, and there is a risk of the movement splitting along ethnic or caste lines, analysts say.
“If at the moment they take away their arms and renounce violence, there will be a split down the middle,” said Dixit.
“We don’t want to go back to square one, with the hardliners going back to war,” he said. “We can’t trust them but we have to test them. What’s the alternative?”—Reuters
