.jpg)
Human Rights
War and Peace in Nepal
by Barbara Aplington
I’ve been preoccupied with the ‘people’s war’ in Nepal for six years now. My musings begin in November of 2001, stranded in the remote northwest of the country, in the region of Humla. I had accepted an invitation from an NGO (non-governmental organization) to document the completion of a micro-hydro power plant. Days after interviewing villagers about their newfound experience with electric light in their daily lives, news of the fighting broadcasts from a radio in the center of town. In the five days it takes for the American Embassy to arrange for a flight out, tension builds, army and police mobilize, and midnight semi-automatic weapons practice disturb my sleep. Thus, my obsession with war and peace in Nepal begins.
Nepal was historically a peaceful land, where Hindus, Buddhists, Muslims and other religions have lived and practiced their religions respectfully. An absolute monarchy existed in Nepal for centuries and a pro-democracy movement emerged in the mid 1900s with the formation of several political parties. Through various incarnations of corrupt governments over the years, the people of Nepal—more than eighty percent living in rural environments—have seen no change in its infrastructure and no help from its government. Nepal remains today one of the poorest countries in the world. By 1996, a revolutionary faction of the Communist Party, calling themselves ‘Maoists’ left the multi-party system of government and moved underground to begin a “people’s war.” The insurgence was led by a man who calls himself ‘Prachanda’ of the Brahmin caste, armed with a bachelor’s degree in Agriculture.
Eager to understand the politics and nature of it all, I read the Maoist manifesto. Based on the ‘Shining Path’ in Peru, the Maoists vow to turn Kathmandu into a “red fort” and hoist the hammer and sickle flag “atop Mount Everest.” The insurgency began with the spread of propaganda in the impoverished and illiterate countryside. It vowed to end the feudal system and to give the people their fair share of it all—land, education, release from taxation and women’s rights.
It all sounds good to me. In the final hours of the revolution, the peasants of the countryside will join forces with the working class in the cities. They will rise against the corrupt bureaucracy, and a better life will be had by all. But in the meanwhile, the growing reality is widespread terror, with execution-style killings, torture, extortion, child recruitment, kidnapping, and rape. Where does this come from? How is it that we as human beings can commit such violations against our fellow neighbors after living peacefully for centuries? Is there a province of war and peace within our own internal state?
In December 2003, I found myself attending the International Conference on People’s Solidarity For Peace and Human Rights in Kathmandu, Nepal, with my girlfriend, Susan. We were in the midst of a two-month Buddhist teaching, but couldn’t pass up the opportunity to meet some of Nepal’s politicians. Banners lined the walls with peace slogans reminiscent of a sixties peace rally.
Prime Minister Deuba spoke on the first day. Participants didn’t appear all that interested in what he had to say, though, and we couldn’t hear him amongst all the chatter. Representatives from countries such as Egypt, Peru, North Korea and Thailand, as well as from Nepal, read papers on a variety of well-researched human rights issues.
Then, sometime shortly into the morning session of the second day, Chairman Oli sent a message to Susan and I, asking us to address the group. Stunned as we were, we accepted the opportunity.
With no time to plan, we could only come from our hearts. As we took the stage, one could hear a pin drop. I shared my experiences of Humla, stories that I’d heard of those touched by war, and what their peoples and culture had contributed to my life. I shared my sorrow for the state of war in their homeland and my confusion as to how such a peaceful people could commit the human rights atrocities that had become commonplace amongst all sides in the conflict. Then came British Susan. She spoke from a very Buddhist point of view.
“Where does peace begin?” she said. “It begins in the hearts of every woman and man. We cultivate it within ourselves through meditation and contemplation, share it with our children, our families, radiate it out into our communities and from there, to our city/state, countries and into the rest of the world.”
I’ve since had the opportunity to meet several political figures in Nepal, none of whom seem to have any concrete idea as to how to once again find peace in their land. The Maoist rebels are now a part of the interim government, alongside the mainstream political parties. The King is powerless and nearly dethroned. Ethnic groups in the country’s south are waging their own “people’s war” for fair representation in the emerging government. Rural people once exploited by landlords are now exploited by the Maoists. Workers in the cities are forced into Maoist unions for “protection.” Intimidation and extortion appear to be the new democratic process. How is it that the hearts of the men in power are ultimately so corrupt? Are we all ultimately that corrupt? Or, will we someday know a peace within that reflects back, as a state of peace in the world?
Barbara Aplington is a licensed acupuncturist, with a healing arts practice in Little Italy, San Diego. Each fall she brings a small group to the lower Everest region of Nepal for an intimate cultural and spiritual experience. She also represents contemporary painters from Tibet and traditional art from Nepal at Lotus Loft in San Diego. She can be reached at barbaplington@mac.com, www.egofreejourneys.com.