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Reviews
Ashutosh Tiwari
Reading various English-language and Nepali-language news reports and opinion pieces in Nepal, one gets the impression that every educated Nepali wants a harmonious, friendly consensus on issues that matter. At first, this craving for national consensus appears good enough: Nice, patriotic Nepalis sitting around, amicably agreeing with one another, and uniformly reaching some harmonious consensus.
But ask what those issues are, on which national consensus is needed, and clashing opinions start to spill forth. Soon, it becomes clear that the only issues on which harmonious, national consensus exists are the ones no one really disagrees with: Yes, education is a must for Nepali children. But how to go about providing it effectively to all? Yes, an access to basic health-care is a glaring need. But how to go about laying down a realistic path of actions towards that need? Questions like these, which could only be asked amidst debates and discussions, show how limiting the culture of seeking consensus really is.
That, however, should not come as a surprise. After all, everything in Nepal is so diverse that it has always resisted any groupís one-size-fits-all sort of consensus. Most educated Nepalis indeed know this. Still, a craving for consensus persists strongly, and eight years after multiple viewpoints have been allowed in public domain, headlines that shout ěNational Consensus: Need of the Hourî jump from most Nepali newspapers. Itís never clear, of course, just what kind of consensus on what kind of issue is actually needed.
Against this backdrop, I argue that what we continue to need in Nepal is not some easy, fuzzy consensus but assumption-shattering debates on all issues. After all, think: since 1990, haven't we had enough of that longing for never-appearing national consensus? The making of the Constitution in 1990, Arun III, Mahakali Treaty . . . where was the consensus about these and other issues? And havenít we gone long enough - yearning for consensus, while avoiding debates and exposure to diverse viewpoints?
Consider too, how that yearning has left us as a nation: sensitive to every criticism, unable to articulate and defend our own thoughts, easily offended by disagreeable points of view, and in short, incapable of dealing with the power of ideas when that power should have enlightened the very basis of citizenship in our democracy.
Maybe all this is understandable. After all, it is always easier to avoid uncertainties by hiding behind a veil of trumped-up consensus than confronting them head-on with debates and discussions. For this reason alone, in a democracy like ours, consensus-seekers are often those who get so easily overwhelmed by the multiplicity of ideas that they think they have no choice but to denounce debates as byartha ka kura (useless chatter), and be impatient for the interplay of ideas to wind down. What they fail to grasp is that ideas never end in a democracy, and that the only way to weed out bad ones is not to give in easily to some easy, fuzzy consensus, but to keep on debating so that better ideas emerge.
Let me explain this further through this example. In textbooks and popular press, on no issue is there a greater consensus than on the fact that all our Nepali-language writers are indisputably great. Devkota is great. So is Bal Krishna Sama, so is Lekh Nath Poudyal, and ditto for Dharani Dhar Koirala, Shanker Lamichhane and everyone else.
In fact, we are told, again and again, that all of those writers are so great, "so up there" that we, the masses for whom they wrote their novels, plays and poems, should not even dare to debate about or criticize their literary creations. My point is that it is precisely this consensus of fossilized reverence that has sapped, among other things, much of the vigor out of our collective appreciation of Nepali-language literature.
For one may ask, what is so great about Devkota's writings? Or, to what extent did Shakespeare influence nationalist Sama's Mukunda Indira? Could Lekhnath have alluded to something other than the Rana oligarchy in his poem Pijara ko Suga? Questions such as these can never be asked, let alone thought about, when there exist dry and readymade consensus to drive away doubts, uncertainties and a sense of wonder. Through unexamined consensus, works of Nepali literature are, then, viewed - not as live issues touching all of us, but as dry entities so revered that they end up offering us no hope, no joy, no intellectual adventures and certainly no inspiration.
And the results become too familiar. We may all repeat the trite consensus, that, for example, Devkota was a great writer. But never will we be able to articulate just what is so great about his writings. Is it any wonder, then, that as a nation we are annually reduced to thinking about Devkota only on the day of Laxmi-puja, that too perfunctorily?
Our studies of history and politics are no better. In schools and colleges across Nepal, those subjects are taught as tedious chronological chains of consensus, garnished only by nationalist rhetoric. Prithivi Narayan Shah, Bhimsen Thapa, Balbhadra and Arniko were all great. The Ranas were bad. The Panchayat was wholly bad. And today's political leaders were all paragons of wisdom and courage during their time underground. Again, missing are debates, discussions, arguments and doubts - about evidence, interpretations, and multiple viewpoints that could make studies of our history and politics so intellectually rewarding.
Yes, Prithivi Narayan Shah chose Kathmandu to be his capital. But how did that affect the medieval economy of Gorkha? Yes, Bhalbhadra might have been a fighting nationalist. But what made him join the army of a Punjabi king, and later die anonymously in Afghanistan? Yes, the Panchayati system was autocratic. But how are we to go about judging today's supposedly democratic netas who, elected to govern, end up lording over us much like their Panchayati predecessors?
Fortunately, answers to these questions are not ready-made and dry, and - despite what news reports and political pundits tell us - certainly not based on someone's idea of consensus. And that is refreshing. For that tells us that there is room for hope, room for a sense of wonder, room for doubts and debates, and, above all, room for well-evidenced, influential ideas to eventually rise to the top. After all, just as Devkota's uncritical worshippers do not have the last word on what makes great Nepali literature, uncritical followers of B. P. Koirala et. al. need not be the ultimate arbitrators of just what kind of politic-economic system we need.
In the end, however, the notion of easy, fuzzy consensus does not mesh well with that of democracy. For what is consensus, but - as in Nepal'ís historical case - lumping one uniform point of view of the state on the masses in the name of some purported national harmony? Democracy, on the other hand, is about an equality of opportunity for ideas, no matter how brilliant or imbecile. Granted, when all kinds of ideas are allowed to come to the fore, the truth itself is then disputed. But when that happens, we should then seek it by entering into debates - arguing together so that we can reason together.
Sustaining open-ended national debates, as opposed to giving in to close-minded narrow consensus, on issues that matter remains our renewing hope for the continuing vitality of our Nepali democracy.
(Ashutosh Tiwari and his housemates organize Nepal-related talk programs in Boston, USA. Republished from Boston-based Samachar-Bichar quarterly, Summer '98)
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Prabodh Devkota
Social Sciences in Nepal is a compilation of papers and comments presented by nine scholars and seventeen intellectuals on different aspects of social sciences in Nepal at the National Conference convened in late 1995 by the Centre for Nepal and Asian Studies (CNAS) of Tribhuvan University (TU). Prem Khatry and Prayag Raj Sharma begin by revisiting a similar seminar held in 1973, the context for which had been provided by the New Educational System Plan of 1971.
In "Sociological and Anthropological Research and Teaching in Nepal" Krishna B. Bhattachan argues that in order to understand the riddles of Nepali society, culture and economy, multiple and indigenous paradigms should be adopted since the Western paradigms are inadequate for this purpose. He is worried that Nepali researchers are following the foreign trend in social science research. He also adds that most of the research being done is not very pragmatic. In addition Bhattachan argues that the teaching of sociology and anthropology in TU is being done under the 'boot-camp' model: "Central and other department programs and activities are heavily regimented; hiring and firing, tenure, promotion, family housing for faculty members are highly regimented. Also admission of students, examinations and grading are highly regimented. These all are remote controlled from 'above'." Instead TU needs to adopt a 'bazaar' model under which "departments should be given full authority to run their teaching and research programs."
Commenting on Bhattachan's paper, Dor Bahadur Bista disagrees with Bhattachan's remark that all foreign funded research is serving only the 'overdogs' or donors. Also, in Bista's view, not all of sociological studies on Nepal by foreign scholars are romantic as claimed by Bhattachan. Bista's concern, in turn, is to identify, isolate and help fight the syndrome of 'fatalism' fostered by several hundred years of bahunbad in Nepal. Ganesh M. Gurung, another commentator, disagrees that all sociologists working in Nepal continue to duplicate the western paradigms.
In "Teaching And Research in History" Tri Ratna Manandhar highlights the significance of historical studies and the need for more research works on history at TU. After portraying the physical and technical inadequaces of the history department, he recommends solutions for a better academic environment. Commentator T. R.Vaidya agrees with Manandhar and provides further suggestions to enhance historical research at TU.
The book also contains papers on other disciplines: Shankar Sharma on economics, T.N. Jaiswal & Panna K. Amatya on political science, C. M. Bandhu on linguistics, Shishir Subba on psychology, B.D. Joshi & Bhim Subedi on geography, B.R. Shakya on education, B.K. K.C. on population. Comments from several academics on each of the above are also included.
At a time when major concerns are being expressed about the state of higher education in Nepal, the reflective exercise contained in this book is valuable. Though the contents of the individual papers vary, they identify some common issues that need to be rectified to improve TU's social science teaching: lack of communication between students and teachers, politicized educational environment, lack of resources in departments and lack of sufficient research works. The focus is also on casting off the prevalent practice of prioritizing "imported" ideas. All of the contributors call for a substantial change in the existing academic practice even as it remains to be seen if any of their recommendations will be taken up by the concerned authorities.
Such seminars should be held regularly and the critical issues raised therein should be made available to the public. This book should be read by all those concerned with the state of higher education in Nepal.
(P. Devkota is doing an MA in English at TU)
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Dinesh Prasain
Developmental Practices In Nepal is an outcome of a seminar organized by the Central Department of Sociology and Anthropology, Tribhuvan University with the support of Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung in February 1997. Edited by two Nepali sociologists, the book contains six papers by Nepali social scientists and a summary of the seminar discussions.
In the first chapter, Chaitanya Mishra provides a succinct overview of the career of the currently dominant developmental discourse at the global and the national level. Mishra contends that the plurality in the conceptions of what constitutes development and how it should be pursued virtually came to an end after the modern developmental era emerged immediately after World War II under the aegis of the increasingly hegemonic western capitalist establishment. Since then, in a one-way Western monologue, development has been equated solely with economic growth rendering concerns with other crucial components such as equality, democratization and social cohesion as irrelevant. Mishra implies that this specific conceptualization of development was tailored to serve the interest of the global capitalist establishment rather than the poor and marginalized sections of the population. That the gap between the rich and the poor at the global and national level started increasing at an unprecedented rate precisely with the emergence of the modern developmental era is the logical conclusion of this process.
Mishra attributes the development failure in Nepal to such a global atmosphere and also to the action of the small section of self-serving brokers of development at home who preventedthe evolution of indigenous notions and practices of development. He argues that development can take root only through deep and plural struggles which in turn can take place only through "incessant politicization of all dimensions of development." However, he is silent about when and how such a process can be set in motion. Hence his otherwise insightful essay contains ideas which at times strike one as ideal rather than achievable.
In "State-led Development Strategy in Nepal" Kishore Kumar Guru-Gharana equates development solely with economic growth. He quotes extensively (so much so that sometimes the reader feels that she is reading not Guru-Gharana but the different authors he quotes) to prove, what is already a conventional wisdom, that economic growth can be achieved by the best possible mixture of the market and the state. Guru-Gharana is all praise for the East Asian Tigers, whose developmental success he says hinged on good governance rather than democracy and suggests Nepal should follow suit. The criteria by which good governance is to be judged, according to Guru-Gharana, is accountability, transparency, predictability, openness and rule of law. He is unclear as to how good governance is possible without democracy. If the reader is in the mood to read a list of clichés on the advantages and disadvantages of planned and free-market economies and the need for striking a balance between them, she should read this article.
Badri Prasad Shrestha provides a more balanced view on "State-led Growth Strategy in Nepal." Shrestha's main point is that despite the planned process of development for a long time, Nepal's economy remains dualistic with an increasingly affluent modern sector and a vast, stagnating rural sector. He argues that the state should gradually withdraw its participation in the modern sector while expanding its participation in the rural sector, with especial efforts directed at the rationalization of the agriculture and greater allocation of government funding to the social sector. He adds that decentralization is the key to fast economic development. He, perhaps unjustifiably, sees great hopes in the newly formulated 20-year Agricultural Perspective Plan which, he implies, will bring about "dramatic change in the Nepalese economy in terms of higher growth rates, substantial alleviation of poverty and correction of dualism." The problem with Shrestha is that he seems to see a neat correlation between economic policy making and development while ignoring other intervening variables (such as the socio-cultural structure and different perceptions of development among actors at different levels of the polity) which affect the way plans are translated into practice.
In his paper "Market-led Development Strategy in Nepal" Shankar Prasad Sharma presents a straight-out-of-the-textbook view on how full market orientation would pay in the long run despite certain hiccups in the short run. He provides details of how the Nepali government is aware of this 'fact', what steps it has already taken and how the country is already showing encouraging developmental trends. Sharma's paper reads like a typical report submitted to the IMF by a pliant Third World bureaucrat.
In Chapter 5, Meena Acharya presents a critical and informed analysis of the "Non-Government Organization (NGO)-led Development Strategy in Nepal." Having set a theoretical framework for the rationale for NGO activism in development nationally and internationally, Acharya goes on to analyze the (I)NGO sector in Nepal. Alhough conceding that (I)NGOs in Nepal have made some contribution in channeling resources to the poor, she points out that they leave a lot to be desired. Despite the rhetoric, their activities lack transparency, and are top-down, informed by their own interests and not those of the intended beneficiaries. Moreover, many NGOs are set up just to siphon off the available donor funding. She calls for better NGO-INGO-government coordination. Acharya sees a need for soul searching among the NGOs to "reexamine whether they are adhering to the basic principles of volunteerism, cooperation and caring, paramount to the good functioning of NGOs." Although Acharya reverts to trite ideas at times, there is much that is useful to students of development in her paper.
In the last paper on "People/Community-Based Development Strategy in Nepal," Krishna B. Bhattachan puts forward a bold idea that genuine grassroots development is possible only if we switch to a paradigm which recognizes caste/ethnic groups as the key agents of development. He attributes the failure of the past development programs for their misplaced adherence to induced (as distinct from indigenous community based) approach and blames the mainstream developmental practitioners as being biased against the ethnic groups and 'low castes'. He criticizes the prevalent assumption among developmental practitioners that communityhood/peoplehood is defined just by territoriality, neglecting its caste, ethnic, linguistic and religious dimensions. Although original, his ideas fail to take any direction even after 40 pages (the paper is a cumbersome read and the reader wishes that it had been properly edited for coherence). He reverts to a too simplistic sociological analysis by giving prominence to only one variable of caste/ethnicity in analyzing development, and seems to have missed the point that development failures are bound up with complex and intricate interrelationships among the global, national and local historic, economic, political and cultural forces. Moreover, Bhattachan is silent about how his caste/ethnic based developmental paradigm would respond to the realities and needs of heterogeneous (both urban and rural) caste/ethnic areas.
Except for a couple of stimulating articles, the book fails to move beyond the mediocre development debate so prevalent in Nepal. Rather than providing fresh and theoretically robust perspectives, most of the authors resort to clichés, textbook rhetoric and unsubstantiated generalizations. There are plenty of editorial errors. These shortcomings notwithstanding, the book is successful in bringing together ideas and experiences from prominent Nepali social scientists and brokers in various developmental experiments in Nepal.
(D. Prasain is doing an MA in sociology at TU)
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Rama Parajuli and Pratyoush Onta
"It is not known when the Barka Naach, the Dangaura Tharu version of the Mahabharata, was first performed in Dang Valley," write editors Meyer and Deuel. Early in this century a village leader named Mahatawa Rul Lal Tharu of Jhalaura collected scattered manuscripts that contained parts of the text of the orally rendered Barka Naach, which literally means "big dance". After teaching himself to read and write, Rup Lal produced a single version of it in Tharu language in 1922 and with the help of some Tharu priests, organized its performances in five-year intervals until the early 1960s. Funds necessary to support a complete production of the Barka Naach, the editors report, then dried up. When he died in 1970, Rup Lal's manuscript was passed on to his son, Chandra Prasad Tharu.
During their pan-Tarai study of Tharu material culture and architectural designs, Meyer and Deuel met Chadra Prasad in 1993. Impressed by his knowledge of Tharu songs, they provided financial support for the production of an abridged version of the Barka Naach in February 1994. This autumn a full version of the same is being performed. The book is a textual introduction to the performance and a guide that could accompany its video version.
The editors claim that the Barka Naach is culturally unique to the Dang-based Dangaura Tharu and constitutes a part of their larger legend of the Barkimer ("the Big war"). Its performance, they write, "is closer in form to the classic Greek drama: the story is told through the dancing of performers and the singing of the traditional Tharu text by a chorus." They also describe, in brief, how the Tharu version of the story differs from that of the classic Sanskrit Mahabharata.
The Barka Naach consists of an opening prayer, ten songs and the closing prayer. The opening and the closing prayers, it is reported, are mandatory in each performance while selections can be made from the main body of dance songs to suit the circumstances of the performing groups. These dance songs are, as the editors note, action stories, largely devoid of the "philosophical teachings that pervade the Mahabharata." They are also very much Pandavas-oriented. In particular, the second brother, Bhim receives attention. Many of the heroics of the third brother Arjun in the classic version is attributed to Bhim here, he being a particurlarly popular folk deity of the Dangaura Tharu.
The ten dance songs describe the following episodes of the Mahabharata: the conspiracy of the Kauravas to kill the Pandavas by burning them inside a wax house; Bhim's killing of Raksasa Danu; Draupadi's swayamvara; the dice contest in which the Pandavas lose everything; Pandavas in a 12-year exile; their 13th year of exile (living incognito) in the house of King Bairath (Virat); Bhim's fight with King Bairath's elephant; Bhim's killing of Kichaka who had harrassed Draupadi; attack on King Bairath by Duryodhan's company (longest song); decimation of the Kauravas at the end of the battle in Kurukshetra. The epilogue describes the Pandavas' journey to heaven. Each song contains a refrain. While only those who are familiar with the original Tharu version can say how authentic the English one is, the translation reads well.
The chief intended audience of the book is clearly the lay western reader who is only sparingly familiar with the classic version of the Mahabharata. The glossary is mostly helpful even as it does not contain the word paidhar which forms a part of the title of each song. The family tree of the Kauravas-Pandavas provided at the end is useful even as it does not contain all the characters encounted in the songs. Some of the introductory text could have been better edited (DDT did not eliminate malaria from the Tarai in the 1960s as claimed; 'controlled' is more the case). The book is produced elegantly. However the publishers would have done the readers a service by keeping the title consistent. The front cover title is as given here but the inside jacket says The Barka Naach: the Tharu Mahabharata which should have been the title for the front as well. The jacket blurp (which contains an incomplete sentence) and the inside text would have benefited from a close reading by a careful editor.
It will be left to those who are familiar with the published large corpus of Nepali folklore to compare this Tharu Mahabharata with other folk versions. For scholars of south and south-east Asian folklore, a larger comparison could be a worthwhile project. A study of Rup Lal's (as yet unpublished?) book "describing the role of the Barka songs in Tharu culture" mentioned by his son should also be done. Finally some contemplation on how Rup Lal's rendition might have reified the oral tradition of the Dangaura Tharu Barka Naach as performed in the 19th century would also be useful to understand how the written word intervenes in the reproduction of a largely oral culture.
(R. Parajuli is a reporter for Kantipur. P. Onta, among other things, hosts the discussion program Dabali over Radio Sagarmatha on Wednesday mornings)
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