It’s Go-Go in Kathmandu, but Nepal frozen in crisis

By Terry Friel

KATHMANDU (Reuters) – It’s an hour before midnight and
Kathmandu’s Go Go Bar, a portrait of the Dalai Lama by the
entrance, is packed with the boisterous sons of Nepal’s new
middle class stuffing cash into the dancers’ panties.

Kathmandu is humming, its young people spending big on
drugs, disco and drink. Sometimes, within sight of King
Gyanendra’s palace, as in the Go Go Bar, where the dancers wear
everything from full traditional dress to skimpy shorts and
bra.

But while the capital parties, Nepal is paralyzed by a
political crisis and an increasingly bloody Maoist rebellion
aiming to oust Gyanendra, who seized power in February, ended
15 years of democracy, arrested politicians and censored the
media.

“Nobody knows what will happen — a kind of terror still
exists,” says human rights campaigner Krishna Pahadi, freed
this month after 143 days imprisoned in a room in a police
camp.

“There is a climate of fear. The rule of law is totally
demolished.”

The military presence on the streets of Kathmandu is less
overt than it was six months ago, except for occasional foot
patrols and armored cars.

But political activists say 25,000 plain-clothes security
men are on the streets, eavesdropping on anyone who stops too
long.

Gyanendra said he was forced to take over because the
politicians were incapable of quelling the Maoists’ “People’s
War,” which has killed at least 12,500 people since 1996.

But five months on he is no closer to a deal with the
guerrillas or with the seven mainstream political parties. Both
the army and the Maoists concede they cannot win on the
battlefield.

COMPROMISE OR TURMOIL?

“If there was a military solution, then the army would have
done it by now or the Maoists would have taken over Kathmandu,”
says S.D. Muni, a South Asia expert at New Delhi’s Jawaharlal
Nehru University.

The political parties are slowly forming a united front and
appear to be moving closer to the Maoists, who have appealed to
the parties to talk with them to increase pressure on the king.

The Maoists and the parties now agree there should be an
election for a constituent assembly to draft a new constitution
and review the role of the monarchy.

“The two (parties and rebels) coming together would build
up pressure on the king,” says Muni. “Either he makes
compromises, or if he does not, then I think Nepal will see a
lot of turmoil in coming years.”

But analysts expect no real breakthrough for at least three
to four months, when the parties can organize protests after
the monsoon and crop-sowing season.

The political parties have so far failed to rally popular
support against the king, despite his increasing unpopularity.

“The parties have to first understand what the people
want,” says Nara Hari Acharya, a senior member of the leading
Nepali Congress party who was imprisoned for five months. “The
parties still have the same old leaders who have failed us in
the past.”

Even before the Feb. 1 royal coup, the Hindu kingdom, one
of the world’s poorest nations, had seen remarkable political
instability, with 14 prime ministers in under 15 years.

In fact, for hundreds of years, it has seen bizarre power
plays, murder, exile and takeovers between royalty and the
upper caste Brahmins and Chettriyas who dominate the still
largely feudal country.

Parliament has been dissolved since 2002, when Nepal was
supposed to prepare for elections. Gyanendra sacked the
then-prime minister, Sher Bahadur Deuba, for failing to hold
them.

The palace says Gyanendra is popular and adored, but many
Nepalis are suspicious of the way he came to power, after his
brother, King Birendra, and several other members of the royal
family were gunned down by the then-crown prince in 2001.

“His actions have definitely made him unpopular,” says
Acharya. “But he was always unpopular, particularly after the
royal massacre. People don’t have confidence in him. It is not
easy to protect and save the monarchy in Nepal now.”

Said one teen-age girl, careful not to be overheard: “We
don’t like monarchy. We want democracy. We will get it.”

Acharya, a 52-year-old former minister touted as a possible
leader among the next generation of politicians, suggests the
constitution be changed to allow periodic votes on whether the
monarchy should continue.

Analysts say support for a republic is growing.

During festivities marking Gyanendra’s 59th birthday last
week a visiting priest from India’s holy Hindu city of Ayodhya,
63-year-old Swamy Sudarsanacharya, blessed the man revered as
an incarnation of the Hindu god of protection, Vishnu, so that
he could bring peace to his nation of 26 million.

“There must be peace so that everyone in Nepal will be
happy and prosperous,” he said, waiting in line to see the
king.