When the sun finally rose at the crossroads town of Lamahi on Friday morning 12 March after a terrifying night-long battle, the carnage at the smouldering police station on the outskirts became visible. Most shops in the bazar remained shut. Some Lamahi residents tuned in to Radio Nepal to listen to the 7AM news bulletin. The main news was that back in faraway Kathmandu, the government and the party brass of the ruling Nepali Congress were at each other's throats again.

Party president Girija Prasad Koirala had the Minister of Information and Communication, Jaya Prakash Prasad Gupta expelled from the party for supporting the commander-in-chief's recent statements. Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba had sprung to Gupta's defence, and the kangresis were clawing at each other even while the vultures started wheeling over Dang, and the stench of death began to spread through the villages along the highway.

There you have it. If you want an explanation for why the Maoist insurgency has spread so far so fast, look no further. They are just filling a power vacuum at the centre. We thought that by now we had become immune to these chronic displays of disunity. But last week after Dang it was nauseating. How much worse do things need to get, how many more Nepalis have to die before our politicians start finding ways to work together, showing solidarity and begin to see beyond the tips of their noses?

The country is stuck between a military stalemate and political deadlock. There are four levels at which ways can possibly be found to end the conflict:
a) meeting the main Maoist demand for a constituent assembly
b) agreeing on a referendum to decide whether the people want a constituent assembly
c) making radical changes in the constitution that would meet most Maoist demands
d) Crushing the insurgency

The first option would mean the Maoists get what they want, the second would be a plebiscite demonstrating the public's dissatisfaction with the status quo, the third is what the parliamentary parties need to get together to do. The fourth would need a dramatic intelligence breakthrough like in Peru or Sri Lanka.
The Maoist slaughter of security personnel, the five-day bandh, the bombs in public places, and the arson attacks are aimed at putting pressure on the government to talk. A referendum may strengthen the hands of those who want to revert to authoritarianism.

The long-term and sustainable option would be for the peoples' representatives to speak out on behalf of a people fed-up with the bloodshed. Can we even dare to hope that parliamentary parties will bury their differences and agree on a joint crisis government? An alliance of political parties may actually be less far-fetched than a united Nepali Congress.

Numbed by the death toll, it is politically correct to call for a ceasefire and talks. But we can understand why the army is reluctant to agree to talks now: the experience from November when the Maoists reneged on the ceasefire is not reassuring.

A carrot-and-stick approach may be the best bet for now. The army is wielding the big stick. But where are the carrots?