If media reports about official, and presumably secret, meetings held between political parties are to be believed, the one concern bedevilling the ruling Nepali Congress seems to be whether to call what is happening along our southern border a blockade or not. This is somewhat understandable since a few truckloads of goods keep trickling in now and then, which would not have happened in a total embargo. But, on the other hand, the shortage of all manner of goods is all too real. Thus, we are in a situation of a blockade-that-is-not-a-blockade or, more correctly, following the Nepali Congress, a blockade-that-should-not-be-called-a-blockade.

History repeats itself

For those of us old enough, it is difficult to avoid a sense of déjà vu, bringing back memories of the crisis back in 1989-90 when India closed off 15 of the 17 land entry points following the non-renewal of trade and transit treaties. We somehow survived those long 15 months, which indirectly also led to the fortuitous ending of the Shah autocracy. But that was a quarter of a century ago when most Nepalis still had to walk long distances to catch a vehicle and the only fossil fuel used for the most part was kerosene for lighting. Even Kathmandu was smaller and most of it within walking distance.

Notwithstanding Prachanda’s call for Nepalis to adopt bicycles to demonstrate our resilience, few residents of the Capital are likely to take it up with any seriousness even if he were to perchance lead by example. We are much too dependent on the outside world for any move at self-reliance to bear fruit. Part of the reason is our political parties themselves. A number of public industries we had at the turn of the 1990s were sold off by the Nepali Congress government to private players, and the private-sector industry shrank unable to bear the strong-arm tactics of Prachanda’s cadres. And, so we import, and import some more again.

India as Sanctioner

Perhaps I am mistaken, but I fail to recall strong anti-India feelings at that time. It could be a lack of a free press then or limited modes of communication. But the blame was more or less directed against the Panchayat system, and what residue of anti-Indianism remained was blown away by India’s whole-hearted support for the democratic forces that came to power in the spring of 1990. In July of that year, speaking to the press in New Delhi in the presence of Interim Prime Minister Krishna Prasad Bhattarai, India’s Prime Minister V.P. Singh announced that India would be lifting the sanction. As reported by The New York Times, Singh said: “We have finally put an unfortunate interlude behind us and have fully normalised relations.”

The unfortunate interlude is back with us in force. That India has often resorted to sanctions as an instrument of its foreign policy has been outlined in ‘India and International Sanctions: Delhi’s Role as a Sanctioner’, a research paper published by the New Delhi-based Observer Research Foundation. Dealing with the 1989-90 Nepal embargo, the author, Rishika Chauhan, notes: “The overall stand taken by India was that if Nepal sought a special economic relationship and privileges from India it had to accept a special security relationship as well.” Her conclusion is revelatory: “Thirteen months after India sanctioned Nepal, King Birendra had to give way to a democratically elected government and assume the position of a constitutional monarch. The new government agreed to consult India while deciding on defence issues. Sanctions were lifted on July 1, 1990. It is believed that the monarchy in Nepal collapsed under the impact of Indian sanctions. This case is regarded as an example of efficient economic statecraft.”

‘Statecraft’ is hardly the word that comes to mind while considering the relative size and power of India and Nepal. But, if that is the view coming out of an influential Delhi think tank, Nepal’s leaders have to do a quick and hard rethink about how they are going to get the country out of the crisis. We had heard stories of the late Field Marshal Sam ‘Bahadur’ Manekshaw of India protesting to the Rajiv Gandhi government about the hardship the blockade was causing to the families of his beloved Gorkhas. The Gorkha connection was also reinforced when the V.P. Singh government named a former president of the Gorkha Brigade, Lt Gen S.K. Sinha, as its ambassador to Nepal even as Indian sanctions continued, possibly to repair strained ties. Unlike then, there have been few influential people speaking out against India’s behaviour towards Nepal. Can it be just a coincidence that at the time of the 1989 crisis a majority government was in place in Delhi and the present Narendra Modi government is the first such in 25 years? Beholden to no one, such governments seem able to do as they please. At least, when V.P. Singh came to power in India 10 months into the blockade, Nepal had a powerful ally in Chandrashekhar, a potential prime minister himself at the time.

What next?

The paper cited above quotes an External Affairs Ministry official in 1989 saying: “Good neighbourliness implies a degree of mutual sensitivity and concern for the interests of both countries. This is particularly necessary if the special relationship between India and Nepal is to be maintained.” The special relationship was on particular display in the aftermath of the April earthquake and, despite the boorish behaviour of sections of the Indian media that ascended to Nepal, India’s rapid and generous response received warm appreciation in Nepal. Even earlier, the gesture by Narendra Modi in announcing a $1 billion line of credit had Nepalis eating out of his hand.

A lot has changed in the intervening months. A more circumspect approach by India would have been more appropriate. All the signs were there that the constitution would be passed in the form it finally was. But to presume that having made somewhat random rhetorical statements about the need for an inclusive process would be enough for it to be adopted in spirit as well as deed was one big error in judgement on the part of India. Quiet and firm diplomacy at an earlier stage could surely have achieved what is likely to be the eventual outcome. But lashing out in anger against a pitifully weak country that is just recovering from a devastating natural disaster has only served to reinforce India’s image as a regional bully. It is still not too late to reverse its position and regain the high ground, and that is the morally right course of action.

“When the border closed down, Nepal was caught napping,” the Los Angeles Times quoted a Western diplomat in Kathmandu back in 1989. Our leaders have yet to awaken in every sense of the term but India has to rethink its tactic of penalising an entire country for their omissions—not to mention omissions of its own officialdom. Has the Indian establishment even paused to think that by its action it is punishing the dependants of those who harvest crops in Punjab, who carry pilgrims in Uttarkashi, who pick apples and dig potatoes in Himachal, who look after the children of denizens of Delhi and keep their houses clean, who keep entire localities safe in Bangalore, who drive around the rich in Calcutta, who serve restaurant-goers in Bombay, and not to mention who guard India’s borders against those who could do it real harm? Efficient economic statecraft? Bah!