Strike while the iron is hot. That seems to be the maxim for Nepal this winter. Now is the time to pick a cause, any cause, because our rulers are not ruling. And if there is a government we don't sense the presence of one. So the All Nepal National Free Students' Union (Revolutionary) is forcing the closure of all private schools unless the government meets its 15-point demand for everything from stopping the teaching of Sanskrit and the singing of the national anthem, to halting inflation and getting back Nepali territory occupied by foreign powers. It is doubtful if any government, even a Maoist one, could fulfil such demands. But the 7 December ultimatum stood, and since the government did not meet the demands schools have no choice but close down or face the consequences, whatever they may be.
No sooner had the government declared hospitals Essential Services last week, thereby making strikes there illegal, than the non-medical staff in hospitals went on indefinite strike. The hospitality industry is now taking the cue from hospitals to finally go through with the strike hotel employees threatened last month to win a ten percent service charge from all billings. More than any previous or on-going strike, this one has the potential to decimate the economy. As we have said over the past three issues, the Hotel Association of Nepal (HAN) and the Hotel Worker's Joint Agitation Committee are playing dangerous brinkmanship here. This is not like closing down a garment factory. It is not about service charges, or just about the hotel industry anymore. The fallout of an indefinite hotel strike will wreck not just tourism, it will ruin the economy.
As far as we can tell, there is a lot of posturing going on. No one really wants the strike, the hotel workers are rattling sabres, hotel owners are acting macho, the government is paralysed by its own lack of ideas, the FNCCI is looking at next week with horror, the political patrons of the unions don't want to be blamed for the popular backlash if jobs and businesses are lost. Still, as with everything else in Nepal, it never seems to be enough that no one wants something to happen. It happens anyway.
The negotiations (actually, the lack of negotiations, since hotel owners and unions don't even seem to be talking directly and the government has so far been serenely aloof) have entered a dangerous phase. No one cares a hoot anymore. Hotel owners are taking a deep breath and saying, OK, so if we have to close down we might as well close for the whole winter season. Unions have used inflammatory rhetoric, saying they'll turn their places of work into "cemeteries". In the absence of talks, such attitudes harden positions on both sides and make compromise impossible.
The Tourism Ministry, which should have by now been pressing panic buttons to get the warring parties to the table, couldn't be bothered. Tourism is a fickle industry, it is not like exporting pashmina. The slightest hint of trouble, and your visitors will go to Laos instead. The old attitude "We have Mt Everest, tourists will come" is not going to work anymore. A hotel lockout from 11 December will mean you can kiss tourism and the economy goodbye for the year 2001 and beyond. That is why we may as well declare it a "Don't Visit Nepal Year", and put a big padlock on the country.
Visit Nepal now!
It's important to play devil's advocate on occasion. Especially when all you've been doing is making dire prognostications. So here goes: A hotel strike is terrible for the economy, but a fine time to be in the city. You can walk all over Thamel unafraid of being brained by large backpacks falling out of cycle rickshaws. You and your grandmother can take your time huffing and puffing up the stairs to Swoyambhunath and not be depressed by the sight of absurdly fit 18 year-olds whizzing by. You can buy that fleece jacket for Rs 12 or whatever the super-low discounted price might be. Maybe you could let yourself be persuaded to buy matching mittens for a similarly modest price tag. You can indulge in Kathmandu's famous video nights and watch last week's US release-for once not in an overcrowded, claustrophobic room redolent with the reek of unwashed travellers and sweaty socks. And if you want to go out of the city, well, you and a friend could do some independent tea-house trekking kitted out in your new warm gear. So that's the silver lining on this whole mess. Hell, anything that can make me look on the bright side of things can't be all bad.
