Readers should note that this book was authored prior to developments such as the advent of the Young Communist League (YCL), the Madhesi peoples' uprising, and the neutralization of the law and order functions of the state by the current government. Hence, these are not discussed.
However, the impact of such developments on the trajectory of the Nepali Maoist movement (while significant) does not impair the validity of the historical context (or future projections) outlined in the author's writing.
Note: This writing is presented with the EXPLICT CONSENT of the author, Dr. Thomas A. Marks. Pictures have been removed to facilitate publication, but the captions remain, since they include useful information.
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United Front as Decisive Weapon
It was this polarization that led to a situation in April 2006 not unlike that in Thailand post-1973 or certainly post-October 1976 – with the monarchy in a role quite the opposite. Mass action led to the collapse of the royal “martial law” regime and a restoration of parliamentary rule. If in Thailand Bhumipol had proved a rallying point for reform, in Nepal, Gyanendra was to prove a Marcos-like figure around which all opposition could rally. This provided the Maoists with the basis for a viable united front, precisely what had alluded them in all of the post-Vietnam cases we have examined thus far. A boycott of a government effort to restore local VDC politics, aided by the actions of international actors present in Nepal, notably European-based NGOs, provided the immediate context that brought the main opposition legal parties – the Seven Party Alliance (or SPA) – into alliance with the CPN(M). Behind the scenes, democratic India, again pursuing geopolitical ends not unlike those seen in the Sri Lanka chapter, hosted the meetings that produced the alliance and then ensured its power in the streets by cutting off ammunition and other supplies to the Nepali security forces. The result was a united front upheaval in April 2006 that echoed People’s Power in February 1986 Manila.
The collapse of the old-order began with the late 2005 issuing of a 12-point letter of understanding between SPA and the Maoists (SPAM, as wags had it). Therein, it was claimed, as advanced by the leader of the legal (Parliamentarian) Marxists, UML General Secretary, Madhab Kumar Nepal, the public face of the agreement, that the Maoists had "developed a new maturity," had reached a conclusion that they were unable to complete their "capture of state power through the barrel of the gun." Consequently, they were willing to proceed peacefully, which meant "if the Maoists resort to arms again, those in power will have to take the blame." For good measure, he threw in, “If the well-equipped Shah of Iran was uprooted by unarmed people, there is no reason why it can't happen in Nepal."
Waving this flag, the political parties temporarily stormed back onto center stage in Nepali politics, making a bargain which was altruistic, Machiavellian, or simply suicidal, depending upon how the cards fall after publication of this volume. However this may be, their long-running battle with the palace had caused them to play “peace” as the hand that would gain them both power and breathing room from their mortal foes, the Maoists. There was no “peace,” went the stated logic, because there was no “democracy”; and there was no “democracy” because “the Palace” insisted upon violence. That this was historical falsification of the first order was apparent to anyone who had even notional familiarity with the political history of Nepal, but it was also irrelevant.
There was insurgency in Nepal, of course, due to shortcomings of the system that evolved during the democratic era. Those most responsible were the same individuals who had reached the deal with the Maoists – not just the same parties but the same individuals. That this well-documented reality could somehow be blamed upon the Palace was a position that emerged in vibrant form only with the “Royal Massacre” that replaced the previous monarch, Birendra, with his less-popular brother, Gyanendra. The latter's missteps served to elevate the parties to the position as advocates of a “democracy” they had never practiced, either in power or within their own ranks.
In reality, it was the nature of “democracy” that had been the issue all along in the Nepali struggle, as it had been in our other case studies. For the Maoists, the choice had never been between “absolute democracy” and “autocratic monarchy,” the terms used in the 12-point agreement. It had been between parliamentary democracy and “people's democracy,” a clash seen perhaps most vividly in the Philippine illustration. In Nepal, parliamentary democracy was portrayed as a Western concept. People’s democracy was certainly also a Western concept but was portrayed as “Maoist.” The very Western origin of Maoist ideological beliefs was regularly on display at the CPN-M's public gatherings, where place of honor was occupied by the pantheon of “white gods plus one” – Marx, Engels, Lenin, Stalin, and Mao – but this contradiction too was irrelevant.
What “absolute democracy” (loktantra) meant for the Maoists, operationally, was the ability to knock from the battlefield their only tangible obstacle, the monarchy. What it meant strategically was the ability to move beyond the gun to the ballot at the early 2006 juncture in the struggle. It was what the Sandinistas had done so adroitly in Nicaragua, moving rapidly within “democracy” to solidify what they had been after all along – a Marxist-Leninist version of democracy, in our terms here, “people's democracy.” Apologists went to some lengths to avoid discussing this aim, but it was the concrete manifestation of the “dictatorship of the proletariat.”
That the Maoists had no intention of abandoning their strategic goal was made clear to cadres in a series of meetings in Rolpa. Whether they tactically would go the route of the Provisional Irish Republican Army (PIRA) in Ulster, actually decommissioning their arms, was subsequently agreed to but remained to be seen as this book went to press. There were too many unknowns, not least the nature of the Maoists' links with the newly formed Communist Party of India-Maoist, CPI-Maoist, created through a merging of the two principal Maoist insurgencies in India, and aggressively committed to violence as the only route to political power and social justice. In their statements, the two Maoisms have stated clearly that peaceful means are useful only so long as they facilitate the violent end.
A central role in the emerging situation, as noted above, was played by members of the Indian “legal Left,” a catch-all term for those Marxists who participate in parliamentary democracy while disclaiming its ultimate legitimacy – the same position taken by the UML in Nepal. On the one hand, Indian Left participation offered some grounds for optimism, since the legal Left there did not engage in insurgency (which was not the same thing as eschewing violence, something PIRA demonstrated well in the Catholic ghettos of Ulster in the late 1990s). On the other hand, it was also grounds for profound disquiet, since the “terms of reference,” as reflected in the 12-point agreement, were vague and contingent upon the effective surrender of the Nepali Royal Government. This only heightened Nepali nationalist suspicions that what was being set in motion was a “Sikkim solution,” though Bhutan might have been the more apt comparison, a nominally independent nation-state, strategically located, compliant with New Delhi’s strategic wishes.
The turning point came with the government’s early 2006 effort to hold local elections. SPAM cooperation consequently reached a new level, and the mass demonstrations of April resulted. That the government decision to hold local elections was considered controversial demonstrated the degree to which polarization and mistrust had poisoned the Nepali polity. Exploiting the estrangement between the Palace and the parliamentary parties, the Maoists emerged as advocates of “peace,” declaring a ceasefire and using military pressure outside Kathmandu Valley even as SPA demonstrations proceeded in the Valley and other major population centers. “Negotiations” were held up, went the Party propaganda line, because of government intransigence and insistence upon pursuing counterinsurgency. In reality, as stated directly in the RNA's campaign plan, the goal was that counterinsurgency would restore legitimate Government writ in such fashion and to such extent that the Maoists ultimately would agree to re-incorporation within the political system.
The rub was that the Maoists were not interested in re-incorporation. They did not even accept the common understanding of “negotiations.” To the contrary, evidence supported a conclusion that the point of their ceasefire was to further the armed struggle. Maoist exhortations to combatants continued to state that the old-order could only be addressed with violence. Fellow-travelers, continued the Party line, would be accepted as long as they were useful, but they would not have a meaningful role in the shaping and execution of “New Democracy.” Nevertheless, it was felt by the Party that the political parties could play an important role, "with all forces against the autocratic monarchy centralizing [focusing] their assault against the autocratic monarchy from their respective positions, thereby creating a nationwide storm of democratic protest."
Absent the “nonviolent” delivery of operational victory, however, plans were laid for the resumption of the Maoist military assault within the overall strategy for the seizure of power. The “nationwide storm” – April 2006 – only had worth so long as it delivered by “political means” that which could only be gained at greater cost through violent means. If this was the strategy, operational intent was to include demonstrations in urban areas and attacks in rural areas to force the government to fight on two fronts. The RNA was aware of this to some extent, but it was unable to do much about it due to two pressing failures: inability to engage in the nonmilitary aspects of counterinsurgency, and an inability to provide local security.
The failure to address the information warfare side of the equation caused especially serious problems with respect to India. A key aspect of an information warfare campaign should have been to bring the Indian government back into the game in a positive manner. Instead, the impression of “failure” and of “democracy destroyed” that allowed the Indian legal Marxists to support the elements of the ruling coalition at Delhi that sought to meddle in Nepal's affairs. The issue was rarely stated as such, but there were left wing elements (within India) who viewed India's own democracy as problematic, so they sought to “act out” against whatever force in Nepal could serve as a surrogate target. To that end, bringing the monarchy to its knees served their immediate purposes. This was not in India's best interests, keenly aware as it was that it had a growing Maoist problem on its hands within its own borders. The joint statements and activities of the Nepalese and Indian Maoists, together with an upsurge of activities on the ground in India, had led to the Center’s becoming much more energized in its approach to the lackluster State anti-militant campaigns. Still, the particulars of India’s own domestic politics resulted in a virtual legal Marxist foreign policy in much the manner Tamil Nadu had for years conducted its own Sri Lanka policy (which also included backing insurgents whose primary tactic was use of terror).
The failure to implement a solution to the local security dilemma was the second major issue and placed the security forces in an impossible situation. The invariable reason given in Kathmandu for having no local security in place was “the EU.” Foreign donor objections to local security mechanisms were real (with most NGOs quietly honoring Maoist extortion demands and more than a few actively siding with them against the government), but local security was indispensable. There was no way to proceed in its absence. As has been discussed time and again in preceding chapters , the precise form of local security must be determined – it need not even be armed capacity. But it must be the capacity to inform and/or resist, pending reinforcement by the security forces.
The security forces, it bears observation, had improved, led by advances in the quality of RNA junior and middle grade officers. In many ways, in fact, the senior service, the RNA, was not the same force it had been several years before. Tactical and operational improvement, however, could make no headway in the absence of a strategy for victory. This highlighted the heart of the matter: Even as events of the first half of 2006 developed, there was still no articulation of “why we fight,” much less a comprehensive state (national) plan for counterinsurgency. There was an RNA plan, and this did bring along elements of the state at times, but there was no designated command authority that could bring together all facets of state power - much less the actual application of those assets. This remained centralized in the Palace, where there was an inability to respond in timely manner to emerging issues.
Instead, it was the Maoists who demonstrated an ability to move rapidly and with strategic precision. The changing correlation of forces demanded a recognition that the violent line of operation had reached its culmination point. An earlier Prachanda-Bhattarai debate had been over just this issue: whether military action (violence) should still lead, or if the path could be forged by any of the other (four) lines of operation. If we return to these four, as discussed early in the chapter, we find:
(1) Mass line – The Maoists had consolidated a political base in the west. It had been achieved by armed political action. Terror, always important, could by 2006 give way to menace. The base areas had been consolidated relatively quickly and at acceptable human cost. Though the numbers were awful enough, what had been lost in the entire conflict in Nepal was probably shy of what Sri Lanka lost in either of the two efforts against the Maoist JVP. Yet the Nepali Maoists had found it increasingly tough going to do anything decisive strategically from those base areas.
(2) United front – February 2005 provided the chance for a strategically decisive shift by delivering the political parties into the Maoist hands. That the political parties made a "mistake" was quite irrelevant to the fact that the mistake was made. A combination of "ceaseless waves" protest inside with armed action outside, all held together by dramatically enhanced use of terror against the state and security forces (especially through Improvised Explosive Devices, or IEDs, and unconventional actions) was seen as an unbeatable combination. The most significant element in Prachanda’s various statements was his advancing the next step in the united front process: he proposed that the political parties jointly form an army with the Maoists, sharing all positions and authority. He further proposed that democratic elements within the RNA join with the Maoists and the parties. He raised the question as to who controlled whom, monarch or RNA. The bottom line was the same: The Maoists recognized that the military, as in every case in this book, was the tactical and operational lynchpin. If it could be neutralized, the game was over.
(3) Political warfare -- Here again, developing circumstances delivered up to the Maoists a "blue chip" item, "peace." The longing for peace was so great that the Maoists could use it as a term over and over to undermine the will of all concerned to continue the struggle. It mattered not one whit that "peace" means nothing tangible. It mattered not that the Maoists had created the situation, or that the political parties were the very ones who enabled their progress. The longing for "peace" could be used at all levels of war (strategic, operational, and tactical) to neutralize the ability of the government to continue.
(4) International -- What the Maoists saw was a global situation where the trends were in their favor. Even those international elements opposed to the Maoists’ dated, Cold War views were unwilling to grapple with the situation due to their preoccupation with violent radical Islam (which the Nepalese Maoists claimed to support). As the CPN(M) saw it, everything was flowing its way. At least in part, the Party declared its ceasefire as a tactical gambit to see if it could neutralize government armed action. This did not happen, but strategically the government took a black eye as the entity that refused to "give peace a chance." That the Maoists used the interim to prepare for operations was winked at by many who saw the existing system as irredeemably flawed. India, as the prime offender in this regard, decided that playing its usual version of "the Great Game" was preferable to supporting the Kathmandu government. New Delhi was not totally committed negatively, but, in logic virtually identical to that which had prevailed in its Sri Lanka adventure, seemed to think it could contain the Nepali situation by fostering a "West Bengal solution" (i.e., legal Maoists participating in democratic governance).
Terror as driver: Most common Maoist IEDs converted common containers, such as rice cookers, into lethal weapons. Mines and booby traps were ubiquitous, as was the use of homemade explosive charges during assaults. (Author Collection)
This left “the government” in a tight spot. The April 2006 restoration of parliamentary supremacy was followed by a series of agreements that revolved around Maoist disarmament and participation in an interim government pending a constitutional convention and transfer of sovereignty to a new regime, the form to be determined by the convention. Though technically ruling, the parliamentary government had surrendered its future and power to a process not unlike Thailand 1973-76, with the tremendous difference that the security forces were prevented from maintaining even public order out of concern that their actions might jeopardize the ongoing “ceasefire.” In such a situation, the Maoists thrived, with menace driving their organization, fundraising, and subversion efforts to new peaks. As always, the task at hand is to discern insurgent intentions.
The Maoists are portraying themselves as having had a change of heart. That is not true at all: they have simply chosen to lead with a different combination, to fall back upon a boxing metaphor. What are they actually doing? During the “ceasefire,” they did not stop preparing for war by training and stockpiling. This is entirely logical, because they see violence and nonviolence as complementary, just as did the Provisional Irish Republican Army (PIRA) in its famous maxim that it would fight with a ballot in one hand, an Armalite in the other. It may be recalled that when the PIRA moved to emphasize the ballot, the question was whether the shift was "real." The intelligence was very mixed. On the one hand, significant steps were taken that indicated a PIRA willingness to participate peacefully in politics. On the other hand, there were serious actions that demonstrated the armed option was not being foreclosed (such as working with FARC in Colombia). In the event, in Ulster, the strength of the state and the willingness of the insurgents to reintegrate produced a tenuous peace. Neither of those factors is present in the Nepali case. To the contrary, in the Irish case, "reintegration" was the end-state.
In Nepal, the Maoists are offering the terms of surrender. Though they claim they are willing to accept the outcome of a vote on the future shape of the system, they refuse to allow political action that would create a level playing field. SPA cadre are effectively blocked from any action outside major urban centers or district capitals. Rather, as the Sandinistas did in Nicaragua, the Maoists, having altered the playing field and gained armed control of the areas which will produce an anticipated “democratic” vote in their favor, have made a strategic decision to allow “peaceful measures” to hold sway. The movement, in other words, is on Maoist auto-pilot: its strategy has not changed, only emphasized a different campaign element (or "weapons system," if you like). Violence and nonviolence are still but two sides of the same coin.
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