 BIKRAM RAI |
Going by the Facebook protests in the capital lately, the so-called sukila-mukila of yesteryear are live and kicking. Inevitably, the initiative to use social networks to push for a constitution and outlaw the plague of bandas has spawned a couple of dismissive op-eds. Protestors have been damned for their alleged loyalty to brands (rather than the 'people') and their moralistic outrage (as opposed to practical politics).
To state the obvious: everyone has the right to protest, as long as the protest does not tread on the rights of anyone else. Thus bandas, particularly of the illogical variety that have sprung up in this last week, are a no-no. Rallies that do not obstruct traffic â€" such as those in Khula Manch â€" and which seek to counter those who obstruct our freedom to move around and conduct our business, are definitely kosher.
We've heard some perverse arguments in the meantime. When the indefinite Maoist banda of last May began to fall apart, the former revolutionaries complained that reactionaries were provoking them and impinging upon their right to protest. Coming from those who seized the right to unleash violence in response to literal or structural state violence, this was hardly surprising. From left-of-centre commentators embedded into sukila-mukila society, it borders on the absurd.
Those who've turned up to the Facebook events were by no means a homogenous clique of prosperity. But let us assume that such a class manifests itself beyond the pages of ECS and TGIF to frivolously protest on the streets when the fancy takes it. Critical commentators should in fact be glad that the indolent elite are demonstrating some interest in politics. So what's their problem?
At the core of the antagonism lies mistrust, and a certain contempt, of the sukila-mukila. But more important from the perspective of the armchair revolutionary is to publicly distance oneself from this class as in reality, they are as favourably bound to the system as the sukila-mukila.
One would think a more positive response towards the Facebookers â€" in intent no different from the umpteen protesters in front of the Constituent Assembly â€" would contribute to the creation of a better, fairer system. But perhaps the problem, for the critics, lies in the supposedly naïve and moralistic tone of all these protests that demand a constitution NOW. After all, politics is politics, they say, and without the tedious negotiations among the representatives of the people, we'd only have a half-assed sketch of a constitution, respected by none. Granted: no one is suggesting we set up a Government of Nepal on Facebook. But to dismiss protests as naïve and moralistic is just that. Morality and ethics are at the heart of politics, and underlie the very notion of human rights.
So how were the actual protests? The Khula Manch gathering last Saturday was heartfelt, patriotic, but a little unsatisfactory, because there was no real objective other than to vent one's frustration and no guarantee that one would be listened to. The motorcycle rally against the Chettri Samaj banda on Monday was more purposeful â€" a literally liberating experience. What would have been clear to clear-eyed observers of both events was that those attending were extremely concerned about the state of the state, but also recognised the need to continue with their lives. It may come as news to political parties and their cadres, but politics and the economy must go hand in hand if Nepal is to prosper.
If anyone has any doubts about the futility of bandas, as enforced by a rash of identity-led causes, consider what I heard from a kid of about ten on my way back from the anti-banda rally. Wheeling a cycle around the empty streets, he explained to his peers: "Aja Chettri ko banda, bholi Bahun ko, ani parsi Magar ko re!"
Read also:
The midnight hour, ANURAG ACHARYA
Point of no return, PROF. KRISHNA KHANAL
The games they play, ANURAG ACHARYA
