It was the exception that proved the rule. On May 29, Prime Minister Balendra Shah addressed the Federal Parliament, two months after taking office on March 27. Shah insists he is a man of “action, not words”. As he repeatedly refused to speak in Parliament – even when it was obligatory under parliamentary rules – pressure continued to grow on the government and the ruling Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) to correct the anomaly.
Yet when Shah finally broke his silence, instead of appeasing the opposition parties, his first parliamentary speech ignited a storm.
While answering questions from parliamentarians, Shah spoke about the border dispute between Nepal and India. He said negotiations were underway with India to resolve the dispute over the Kalapani region, claimed by Nepal but where Indian troops have been stationed since the Sino-Indian war of 1962. Similar discussions, he added, were underway to resolve the issue of resumption of Indian pilgrimage to Kailash Mansarovar in Chinese Tibet via the Lipulekh pass in the Kalapani region. (India and China had resumed the pilgrimage without informing Nepal.)
So far, so good.
But while talking about Kalapani, Shah then added that not only India had encroached on Nepali territories, but Nepal had also encroached on Indian territories. It was news to the Nepalese that India, South Asia’s dominant economic and military power next door, would allow its lands to be encroached upon by its equally puny neighbor. If Shah was talking about localized cross-border occupation caused by shifting river courses, he should have said so clearly. On a subject as sensitive as Kalapani, there is no room for imprecision.
Furthermore, his speech on May 29 hardly conformed to parliamentary standards. He was not scheduled to speak that day and ended up speaking spontaneously on such a sensitive subject.
This episode fits a pattern already visible in its use of ordinances, centralization of authority, diplomatic refusals and disregard for parliamentary procedure.
Despite an overwhelming mandate, Shah attempted to pass laws through ordinances. The decision-making process of the Constitutional Council, which recommends heads of state institutions, was changed to give the prime minister final authority to choose a new chief justice, raising the specter of a judiciary controlled by the executive.
Similarly, on the basis of another order, the government dismissed 1,500 senior civil servants without providing for their replacement. This affected vital functions such as the regulation of civil aviation and the organization of school examinations.
Earlier, the 36-year-old Nepalese Prime Minister refused to meet Indian Foreign Minister Vikram Misri, who was traveling to Nepal to extend Narendra Modi’s formal invitation to Shah to visit India. When Shah refused to see him, Misri had to cancel his trip to Nepal. Interestingly, Shah had initially accepted Modi’s invitation. However, he later made it known that he would not travel abroad during the first year of his mandate. This did not suit the Indians. He also refused to meet senior Chinese and American officials, thus irritating two other important partners of Nepal. Shah refused to meet them, although members of his cabinet advised him not to meet foreign officials.
Last March, the new government began its mandate by arresting numerous political leaders on dubious legal grounds. He then razed the riverside squatter settlements without planning for their resettlement.
The government appears more and more like a single man. Ministers complain that they can do nothing but blindly follow orders from the prime minister’s office, where decision-making appears increasingly centralized.
With his black, black glasses topi (cap) and black clothing, and as someone who barely speaks in public, Shah has cultivated an aura of mystery that fuels his personality-driven politics. Much of the public still seems to support him. Although his government’s new budget was widely criticized by experts for going beyond the state’s capacity and ignoring the plight of the poor and marginalized, many of his supporters welcomed it enthusiastically. They even tried to justify Shah’s latest remarks on Indian encroachment – such a statement, it would not be an exaggeration to say, would have been political suicide for any other Nepali government leader.
Shah and his government apparently can do no wrong. After witnessing decades of mismanagement and corruption under previous parties, people are in the mood to give him the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps rightly so.
But for how long? It alienates the groups that any government ultimately needs: the media, the intelligentsia, opposition parties and key foreign partners.
Shah has so far governed as if his ability to extricate himself from difficult situations is limitless. Yet recent discord in Parliament, which has now spilled over into the streets, suggests this is far from the case.