The Tikapur killings of eight policemen, including a senior officer and a child, is part of the violence that people have begun to imitate from the Nepali state’s conduct among its own stakeholders and its dealings with the people. Violence, rather than dialogue, has long been the means of negotiation for the state; and now, the people have adopted it. The Tikapur incident is its latest manifestation. If the Nepali state does not change its mode of dealing with its people, this will not be the last of Tikapur, no matter how harshly we condemn it. And the most damaging and irreparable aspect of violence—whose early signs emerged in the first Far-West Movement a few years ago—could manifest as soured relations among various ethnic groups to the point of no return. In one sense, this would not be unique given numerous such examples around the world such as in Africa, the Middle East, Northern Ireland and the Balkans. But this souring of relations between the hill castes and the marginalised Tharus, Madhesis, Magars, Limbus, Rais, Newars and Dalits with subsequent polarisation would be the greatest tragedy—bigger than any Kot or Royal massacres or even the decade-long Maoist insurgency.

History of violence

Violence is endemic to modern times. In Nepal, political change has seldom been non-violent, even during its pre-modern past. Prithvi Narayan Shah’s violent unification campaign; the 1846 Kot Massacre and the subsequent legitimisation of violence in the extended Rana family as a means of regime change; the 2001 Royal Massacre as a means to resolve family disputes and disagreements within the royal palace; and the decade-long Maoist insurgency to awaken the Nepali state from its medieval slumber have all established precedents to resolving conflicts through violence.

The Nepali state’s response to such violence is an indication that its movers and shakers have not learnt to address the issue of political change peacefully. To solve a problem differently, one has to approach it differently. And to approach a problem differently, one has to understand it differently. But the way the leading politicians of the Nepali Congress (NC) and CPN-UML have reacted to the violence recently clearly shows that they have not learned to understand the problems differently. The home minister blamed infiltration from across the border for the Tikapur killings, while KP Oli refused to accept that ‘sojha’ (innocent) Tharus could commit such violence. Sher Bahadur Deuba, the many-time prime minister, and still very much an aspirant for the post, blamed Baburam Bhattarai for the carnage. How can politicians address the people’s discontents—which have manifested as movements—agitations and sporadic violence, differently with such a mentality?

Layers of scars

Tharus, like any other people, are neither innocent, simple, harmless nor inherently violent. Historical circumstances have influenced their behaviour at different times. And even then, not all Tharus are the same. The political dominance of the hill caste Hindu state created a few Tharus zamindars, and many peasants and bonded labourers. The Maoist insurgency made many Tharus aware of their rights and misery, and also the ways to get rid of their misery and acquire their rights. So, even though there was an agreement between the administration and the leaders of the Tharuhat movement for peaceful demonstrations, the agitated mass of tens of thousands could easily turn violent when provoked by police brutality, as we have seen in video footages of police handling the demonstrations all over Nepal in the past week or so.

However, former Maoist cadres could very well have been involved in the incident. Why should anyone find it strange? After all, don’t the Tharus of the Far- and Mid-West have memories of collusion among  the police, journalists and human rights organisations to allow Far-West agitators to go on a rampage only a couple of years ago? Don’t they bear the scar of family members’ killing and disappearances by the Nepali police and the military during the Maoist insurgency? What the hill caste leaders of the three main parties should have noticed, but have failed to do so because of cognitive dissonance, is that layers of scars are building up in the Tharu psyche. And the latest of that is the hill caste Far-West agitators going on a rampage, and vandalising and setting fire to Tharu homes and shops even after the killing of the policemen and the subsequent curfew.  

Cycle of violence

But surely, violence cannot be a way to resolve complex issues, even though it may offer many temptations for quick fixes. It was the duty of Madhesi leaders to visit Kailali, Kanchanpur and other Tharuhat regions to lend support to the Tharuhat cause, but it was absolutely unconscionable of them, especially the JNU PhD Amresh Singh, to incite the Tharus to come out with swords and spears. I have watched his speech on video and his incitement is clear.

It is true that many hill caste folk, in Nepal and abroad, have mindlessly been communal and used abusive and obscene language in responding to the issue of federalism or the Tikapur incident, but so have the marginalised. Obscenity, foul language or blind partisanship is no one group’s monopoly. But people in power easily tend to be blindsided when they are the ones who have the greatest responsibility to handle complex situations tactfully and with foresight. This has been true of the NC and UML leaders more than anybody else.

On the other hand, agitating leaders have also been at fault. If some common people of any persuasion and ethnicity with access to social media and a stick in their hand lose their mind, the agitators—those who are seeking equal rights—have no business behaving like these folks because they possess a heightened level of awareness. To be sure, in the face of the state’s brutality to suppress agitation, the agitators may be tempted to turn violent. But provocation is not the same as turning violent. Look at what has happened in Tikapur. Non-violent agitation would have taken longer in persuading the state to come to the negotiating table, but the use of violence has created hardships for the common Tharus because of the curfew, and it has also turned public opinion against them because their sympathy is now going to the killed policemen, especially the baby. Now that the state has turned violent in Birgunj and has killed protesters, the tide of public opinion is turning against the Nepali state and the government.

It is the duty of every Nepali with a conscience to do everything to break this cycle of tit-for-tat balancing out of violence and consequent public opinion.