Aliens invade Kathmandu

Maoists burn an effigy of a devil, used to symbolised Prime Minister Madhav Kumar Nepal. Kathmandu, Nepal. 2010/05/04.

By Edwin Koo

10 May 2010

To the outside world, Nepal seems like a very dangerous place these days, infested with stick-wielding Maoists ready to thrash an unsuspecting passer-by.

The international media has painted a portrait of utter chaos, as if the country has plummeted into a full-blown civil war, not unlike Somalia. Even the locals in Kathmandu are starting to believe that they should fear for their lives – the Reds are taking over. In the days before May 2 strike, the biggest supermarket in town – Bhat Bateni SuperMarket – was raided by panick-stricken shoppers.

The truth is, it isn’t as bad as it seems.

The unknown is always scary. And the Maoists who have come to Kathmandu to enforce the aam hartal (general strike), certainly looked, and even smelled different from the Kathmanduites. If even Nepalis can feel xenophobic about their own countrymen, I cannot blame foreigners for believing that Nepal has been overrun by aliens from another planet.

A week before the strike began, I was trekking with my wife in Langtang Valley, a remote and mountainous region north of Kathmandu.

It was up there, 2000m above sea level,  in the scenic valley of the Tamangs, where we started catching wind of the Red invasion.

Nepalis carrying haversacks smaller than your average shopping bag, were marching in  groups of 5-10. It was unusual to see local people trekking. Most groups would have a leader bearing a red Maoist flag walking in front.

Just out of curiousity, I asked a group where they were heading.

“Kathmandu,” they said (with silly grin)

I asked them how long they will take.

“15 days” (without batting an eyelid)

Mine, these guys are serious.

Maoists trekking 15 days to Kathmandu

Returning to Syabrubesi after our 8-day trek, the news of the Red invasion was confirmed. Buses throughout the country were ordered to carry only Maoists for the next three days, so the 100,000 plus cadres and supporters can attend May Day Rally in the capital. We were faced with a very real threat of being stuck in Syabrubesi until cows come home.

Eventually, we got lucky. At 6:30am, we managed to get seats on the only bus from Syabrubesi that was allowed to depart for Kathmandu. I had a hunch something big was about to happen after May Day, and boy,  was I glad to get that 10-hour, back-breaking, butt-numbing ride back.

News soon broke that the Maoists had set out their ultimatum – the Prime Minister Madhav Kumar Nepal must quit, and the government must accept their demands, or else, an indefinite strike would begin May 2.  And when the Maoists called for a hartal (strike), they mean business.

For the next six days, all motor vehicles would stay off the roads. Schools and shops would close. The roads of the capital, once throttled with smoke-spewing vehicles, were now choked with Reds, patrolling the streets wielding sticks and flags, singing revolutionary songs, chanting anti-government slogans, or merely sitting down at major junctions and blocking access.

Wherever I went,  I saw faces of disaffection.  Most of those from outside the Valley belonged to a class of dispossessed people, ignored by the state, denied of their rights and opportunities.  The only thing tougher than being a Nepali, is being a poor and ignored Nepali.

When these people turned up at the doorstep of Kathmandu, many of their countrymen couldn’t recognize them. Kathmanduites mostly lived in their own world. Many in Kathmandu’s elites have visited India, Malaysia and Thailand , but have never been to the less developed parts of their country.

Therefore, when a daily newspaper reported that  the Maoist protesters were coerced into coming into the Valley, it became a widely-agreed fact among the city-dwellers. The story goes, that as the Maoists marched towards the capital, they forced each family to contribute one supporter or pay a 5000-rupee (S$100) fine.

Going by less-than-enthusiastic faces of some of the Maoist “supporters”, and also the Maoist track record of using the stick, yes, there is a grain of truth in the reports. But to think that all these 100,000 “aliens” are simply dumb villagers coerced into coming to the capital – it simply doesn’t add up. Many of them had to walk for days on end. “Some have defied the whip of the Youth Force (militant youth wing of UML party) to respond to the call of their local Maoist commissars” – to quote a prominent local columnist. The fact is, many of them probably came, because they believed their presence would make a difference.

To focus on the intent of the Maoist leaders for mobilising 100,000 protesters is to miss the whole point of this historical event. I do not sympathise with their leaders, nor their hardcore stick-wielding cadres, who have a vested interest to prove their “loyalty” to a red cause.

But there is a certain truth to the red-laced rhetoric that spurs the dispossessed into action.

The fact that the strike even took place, highlights a larger problem: that in Nepal, already one of the world’s poorest countries, there is a gaping rift between the “haves” and the “have nots”. It was not Madhav Nepal alone, but all the leaders sitting pretty at Singha Durbar playing musical chairs for the past decade, that have robbed the people of their rights to better lives.

Perhaps, it is time to look into the eyes of these “aliens” and see what they say, beyond the next headline.

Portraits of Disaffection: Maoist protesters felt empowered when they shut down the capital.