During a presentation on the current situation in Nepal in New York recently, a representative from the International Crisis Group accurately depicted the political polarisation in Nepal. Moderate elements in the political spectrum are being sidelined by a radical leftist insurgency, which in turn, has facilitated the re-emergence of a counterbalancing extreme right-wing reaction.
The so-called middle ground (normally occupied by vibrant mainstream parties and democratic forces) is presently a leadership-void that consists of embers from a dying anti-regression movement, haunted by its own past of corrupt and unethical politics. Needless to say, the implications of this widening vacuum and leadership crisis on Nepal's long-term political outlook, are alarming.
As the polarisation sets in, there is a concurrent trend in Nepal to misclassify individuals into one extreme camp or the other, based on some inclination of the individual's political creed. Since the definition of an 'absolute middle' is arbitrary, the concept of neutrality is equally obscure. Given the prevalent climate of fear and distrust (both contributors to extremism), moderate conservatives and liberals alike, are categorised as extremists in their respective camps.
A direct manifestation of this undemocratic tendency is the deplorable human rights situation in Nepal. Another manifestation is the suppression of moderate voices which are intentionally inundated by extremist propaganda, rhetoric and counter-rhetoric. The result is further polarisation, increased extremism and the consolidation of a deadly cycle that breeds on its own decay of mistrust, misinformation and the erosion of democratic principles.
Although the oldest and dirtiest trick around, feeble attempts at skirting the issue have gained momentum in Nepali politics. When placed in a questionable position, the easiest, most cowardly response is always to deflect attention away from the guilty party by making some baseless accusation that causes doubt over the legitimacy of the party initiating the skepticism.
Faced with this, the responsible reaction would be for those who feel victimised by unwarranted accusations to publicly refute and attempt to redeem themselves. This is the very essence of democratic discourse, a display of facts that allow the public to arrive at their own conclusions. However, more often than not perpetrators of the abuse of authority find absolute solace in their ability to simply shift the scrutiny onto those who expose systemic weaknesses.
Unfortunately, for those who cower in the shadows of their own misdeeds, weak attempts at deflecting the guilt of their inadequacies tend to backfire. A cardinal rule in diplomacy is to never make threats (via attempted character assassinations or otherwise), in the absence of moral grounds and credibility with which to back up the threat. It is precisely because this tenet is repeatedly ignored in Nepal's politics, that those who break them are just as easily exposed.
For would-be politicians, civil servants (or any fair-weathered fans of democracy), hiding behind their guilt-ridden pasts, shame on them for engaging in acts of such pettiness. These are the corrupt and morally destitute that hide behind a fa?ade of democratic solidarity, while serving to propagate anti-democratic practices. Hypocrites like these brand others and further polarise society to avoid public scrutiny themselves.
It is in direct contravention of established democratic norms and practices to malign individuals based on their supposed political orientation. Lying to the 'left' of an arbitrary 'middle' does not make a person a Maoist. Similarly, being 'right' of the same centre line does not make another a monarchist, an autocrat or a dictator.
For those who perceive the application of the terms 'rightist' or 'leftist' in Nepali discourse as forms of denigration, it is time for a lesson in the meaning of a fundamental democratic norm: tolerance.
