KINGDOM LOST: Nepal’s Tryst with Democracy 1951–2008: Free Chapter

Chapter One

The Rana–Congress Coalition: A candle in the wind

The Stumbling Gait of a Lame-Duck Government

One hundred and four years after it had taken control of the reins of power, on 18 February 1951, the Rana oligarchy ceased to exist. Stunned and saddened by the sudden loss, the ruling Ranas lost their glitter and grandeur. Palace compounds that only a few months
earlier had been full of people clad in the trappings of power were now forlorn. Domestic help, a few steadfast retainers and those aathpaharias who had chosen to resign from the Nepal Army to guard their Rana masters went about their duties with heavy hearts.
The mood at the NC camp, in contrast, was ebullient. For several days a steady flow of men and women called at the residence of NC leader Ganesh Man Singh bearing sagun—the auspicious offerings Newars use to mark a victory or great deeds. Joyful feasting and drinking of raksi continued late into the night.

Subarna Shumsher Rana and his family, too, returned triumphantly to their home, Lalita Niwas, 17 years after they had been forced to leave Kathmandu.
There was relief, pride and joy as old friends and followers thronged to his palace. Some greeted Subarna, now minister of finance, with placating praise and expressed
happiness at the re-emergence of the Bhim Shumsher branch of the Rana family, but, at the very outset and most emphatically, Subarna explained to well-wishers and sycophants that he had returned to Nepal not as a member of his branch of the Rana family but as a
leader of the democratic movement Since the Koiralas were from Biratnagar and had no property in Kathmandu and B.P. Koirala had grown up in exile in India, he was invited, and happily agreed, to stay in a small house not far from the royal palace. It belonged to the family of Thirbam Malla, who had been martyred for the democratic cause. Though no more
than a handful of visitors could fit inside his tiny room, from early morning, hundreds of followers waited patiently on the narrow street outside the house to get a glimpse of or meet their charismatic leader, now the home minister.

The streets of Kathmandu bubbled with jubilant euphoria. The people were rid of the yoke of political bondage, and the nagging fear and humiliation that had characterized the Rana dictatorship. The heavy lid that had suppressed open dialogue, critical writing and public meetings had been lifted. ‘A flush of fresh air, a sense of exhilaration lifted our spirits.’
The jubilation, however, was often tinged with suspicion. After all, Mohan Shumsher was still the PM, and his coalition government was driven by conflicting interests and commitment. How could it fulfil the people’s dreams of a just and prosperous society?

PM Mohan found himself suddenly stripped of his unchallenged authority and abandoned even by those he trusted or upon whom he had bestowed great favours. Befuddled in mind, enfeebled in body and uncertain of his future, he was in no position to understand the
dynamics of a new age, far less to assist in the building of a new democratic nation, even if he had wanted to. Besides, as Mohan was well aware, he did not enjoy the trust of the majority of his Cabinet of 10—five belonged to the NC faction and his own five were not
always reliable.

Nevertheless, the change ushered in 1951 was not merely of a government or even political system. Nepal leapt from medieval feudalism straight into the twentieth century, skipping all the usual stages of transition. Managing such a drastic shift in paradigm can be a daunting challenge for even the most experienced and united of rulers. That challenge was rendered insurmountable by differences within the Rana–NC Cabinet, intra-party rivalry within the NC, and what B.P. often termed as ‘powerful forces’ actively working
to make this particular experiment fail (implying the royal family and/or India).
Baber Shumsher Rana, the minister of defence and second to the PM in hierarchy, was quick to realize these constraints and understand that neither he nor Mohan, at their age would, be able to suddenly change their ways of life and styles of functioning in order
to fit into the new order or digest the ‘humiliation’ of coexistence on an equal footing with those they had lorded over as masters since their adolescence. So, as he had assured B.P. earlier, he left Nepal and headed for India, after attending just one Cabinet meeting—the
Cabinet was no better than a lame duck from the day it came into being.B.P. soon realized how ill-prepared the government was to build a new edifice to replace the centuries-old feudalistic system. A major error had occurred even before the ministers were sworn in—B.P. had inaccurately translated the English version of the king’s proclamation
agreed upon in Delhi. While ‘democracy’ can be translated as either ‘prajatantra’ or ‘loktantra’, B.P. admitted to his blunder of having written ‘ganatantra’ or ‘republic’ instead.
No one detected this error, not even the king or his assistants. This oversight gave rise
to protracted controversy and years of political tug of war.Once he had assumed office, B.P. discovered that the Rana regime had had no home minister. In the new democracy, then,
he had no house or quarters to live in, no office to work from and no secretary or staff to help him carry out his new functions. He had to make do with a five-room State guest house. Baber made arrangements for a government guest house to be assigned to B.P. as
his residence and use as office of the Ministry of Home Affairs in the Kingdom of Nepal. There was no secretarial staff with experience in modern administrative processes and procedures. B.P. had to devote many hours to signing papers of little significance such as ration or petrol coupons, and Ganesh Man to issuing import licences and
permits.
Rana’s ministers, in contrast, had trained and trusted men
to handle such trifling matters. B.P., with a tinge of guilt, confesses: [O]ur own people tended to be irresponsible and had little regard for administrative and legal processes […] so we brought two or three experts from India [through the Government of
India] to help set up the Secretariat. History will decide whether
that was right or wrong, but our intention was to modernise
the administration.

When asked about policy changes and socio-economic reforms, Ganesh Man responds testily: We used to make proposals in the Cabinet for relieving farmers from excessive levy in kind on their produce, nationalisation of forests owned by powerful landowners, abolishing birta (during the Shah and Rana periods, state-owned land was granted to members of Rana families and their followers as gifts for services rendered to the state or the PM. The word ‘birta’ is derived from ‘bir’, which means ‘brave’) lands, and
repeal the special rights and privileges still held by petty rajas, and they [the Rana ministers] would reject them outright. What constructive work could we do?

Despite the obstacles, the coalition government constituted the Supreme Court of Nepal with Hari Prasad Pradhan as Chief Justice and passed legislations to abolish jharkhand bethbegari (compulsory, unpaid labour adult males were obliged to perform for the State). The NC’s move to abolish birta land earned the party the enmity of feudal overlords, a group with a powerful hold on society. Clearly, the demise of the Rana regime alone would not eradicate deeply entrenched feudalistic practices or socio-economic inequity and ills.
More than the friction between the Rana and NC ministers, it was dissent within the NC ranks itself that led to the breaking up of the coalition government. Dr Kunwar Inderjit (K.I.) Singh, an enigmatic leader from western Nepal, defied the party order to observe a ceasefire. Just days after B.P. assumed office, K.I. Singh and 300 of his men tried to capture Bhairawa, where he was repulsed by the resolute NC-appointed governor, Minto Jung Rana. K.I. Singh and his men had retreated to the forest to prepare for another assault
when a strong contingent of the Nepal Army, supported by wellarmed Indian soldiers, overwhelmed them, took K.I. Singh and his men prisoners, and incarcerated them in the Bhairahawa jail. This open challenge of ‘Robin Hood’, as K.I. Singh was often called, was
the most publicized but not the only case of intra-party defiance and indiscipline. Despite the strenuous efforts of the NC leadership to contain them, groups of armed NC men roamed about the country, intimidating, extorting and looting and, in the process, tarnishing the party image. The phrase ‘Kangress gaon pasyo (Congress has entered
the village)’ became synonymous with harassment and petty crime.One notable raid was launched by roving NC rebels from the Mukti Sena on the moving entourage of Madhav Shumsher Rana, whose family had been thrown out of Kathmandu in 1933 in a
sweeping purge against ‘C’ Ranas. Like other victims of that purge, Madhav had been allowed to retain his property, including his palace in Kathmandu, a vast track of birta land in Tarai, jewels, gold and silver, and truckloads of personal belongings, such as ‘guns,
ammunition, tents, palanquins, elephants, horses, cattle, dogs, and
farm animals’.
Then, after retiring as governor of Dhankuta in the late ’40s, Madhav settled down to a life of leisure in a splendid mansion atop a mountain in Sindhuli district. After the Rana oligarchy fell in ’51, he was free to return to his palace in Kathmandu. With a
caravan comprising his large family, staff, women-in-waiting and numerous retainers as well as ‘loads and loads’ of riches, he set off.

A large heavy red box, whose contents were no doubt valuable, was constantly ringed by guards. After a day’s descent, the group camped for the night. Several small makeshift wattle huts and a large, more secure one for Madhav and his family were erected. It was a pleasant night, full of twinkling stars, and the caravan slept in peace.
Meanwhile, rumour of Madhav’s ‘huge wooden box filled with riches beyond one’s imagination’ had reached a band of marauding NC rebels, who decided to raid the entourage. Mid-morning, about a 100 marauders moved uphill, shouting slogans and brandishing khukuris, and encircled the General’s tent. General Rana’s youngest son Anant recollects:
I was 10 or 11 at the time. We heard the sounds of wild men.
We could see the scoundrels’ gun barrels poking randomly
through the wattle. Naturally, we were nervous, but Father
was cool and collected. He went out of the hut and faced the
men outside. ‘I am a General in the Nepal Army appointed by
His Majesty’s order. Who are you and who is your leader?’ he
demanded. There was silence. Turning back to the hut, Father
shouted, ‘Take out the weapons, even the machine gun, and
open fire if these bandits remain.

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