What a year it has been. 2001 was the kind of year you would not even wish on your enemy. It started with irrational street riots, the deranged selfishness of shameless politicians, the senseless slaughter of policemen. Midway through the year, the unspeakable horror of a royal massacre happened and we had three kings in just four days. The year ended with our nation in a state of emergency, and Nepal joining an international list of countries in conflict.

We carry in this issue a capsule of 2001 from the pages of the Nepali Times. As journalists we should have been glad: bad news is good news for the news business. But for our country's sake we wish 2002 will be less newsy. We would like to have weeks in the coming year in which we don't have to once more bemoan the state of the nation, remind everyone that the country is in a rut and we need to pull ourselves out. Weeks in which we can actually congratulate politicians for showing far-sightedness, accountability and a sense of priorities. But the way we are headed, it looks like things will have to get a lot worse before they get better.

It's the stupid economy. Tourism has collapsed, exports of garments, carpets and pashmina are in crisis, revenue and tax collection have plummeted. (see p. 9). A cash-strapped exchequer now has the additional burden of paying for a costly war, initial price tag: Rs 4 billion. All ministries are required to slash their development budgets by 25 percent.

War is costly business. Peace is going to be expensive. Money is already being diverted from development, and this, in turn, is going to make peace less sustainable. Nepal's economy is caught in a vicious spiral: we need to be at peace so tourism and investment can jumpstart the economy, but a pre-requisite to peace is economic revival.

Peace with development may still have been possible if there was a civilian authority seized with the enormity of the crisis at hand. But having declared a state of emergency and let the army loose to chase the rebels, the government appears to have let go. This should have been the time to launch an economic and social reform package, used emergency powers to crack down on corruption (not just a few politically-motivated showcase exposes) and improve the efficiency of government. This would be the time for a Marshall Plan to re-energise tourism and investment for the coming year, and to unleash a campaign-style delivery of basic services throughout the country.

The government is making half-hearted attempts at damage control, but it doesn't seem to see this as an economic emergency. And the ruling party is back to its familiar squabbling. While a medium-intensity war simmers across the country, here in Kathmandu the politicians are up to old tricks. Most don't even seem to want to know what is really going on because they don't want to worry needlessly.

When the peace talks were going on two months ago, optimistic as ever, we had said negotiations were not the be-all and end-all. Talks had to go hand-in-hand with measures to assure the Nepali public that the government machinery was functioning, basic services were still being provided and the administration still worked. We could now say the same about the war. The army is trying to fix things, but while that is going on the civilian authority has to show not only that it exists, but actually prove that it cares for the peoples' well-being.

In the end, it all boils down to a crisis of leadership. Be it peace or war, a nation needs visionary leaders to steer it towards its chosen destiny. The year 2001 was full of challenges, but we failed to produce a single leader who could seize the opportunity inherent in every crisis. That is one way to look at the year gone by-a year not just of misfortune, but of our collective failures. Let's hope 2002 will be less tragic, and a time for a fresh start. A year, perhaps, of living decisively.