Six years after the bloody uprising in the plains that claimed 52 lives, the Madhes still simmers
SUNIR PANDEY
ALL FALL DOWN: A warehouse near the Nepal-India border in Jamunaha, Banke district lies in ruins, symbolic of the paralysed economy in rest of the Tarai.
On a cold January afternoon six years ago this week, a few obscure
Madhesi leaders gathered at Maitighar Mandala and torched copies of the interim constitution saying it did not address their desire for recognition and representation.
Euphoric about sidelining the monarchy and reclaiming Singha Darbar, the coalition of former Maoist rebels and democratic parties in the interim government ignored the protests, and underestimated the anger. Some actively stoked the Madhes fires, hoping to use it to weaken Maoist influence in the Tarai.
Demonstrators at the Mandala roundabout were arrested, sparking further protests, first in Lahan and then in the rest of the Tarai. Dozens of Madhesi leaders from various parties, including sitting ministers, left their jobs and defected. The protests turned violent, leaving 52 dead, stoking Pahadi-Madhesi tensions and forcing tens of thousands of Pahadis to flee the Tarai.
The government finally relented and included the agenda of federalism and inclusion in the interim constitution. Along with republicanism and secularism, Nepal was to be a federal and inclusive state. Six years later, the inclusion bill died with a legislature that was allowed to lapse. Had Nepal gotten its constitution on 27 May last year, 23-year-old Arjun Sah from Mahottari would have gained citizenship of this country in the name of his mother. But in a few months, he will be a stateless MBA graduate instead. He will have no job, no property rights, no travel documents, and will join thousands of other young Madhesi youths who are born in the shadows and live in perpetual exclusion.
The decade-long conflict and seven years of power deadlock have paralysed the national economy, jobseekers far outnumber available jobs. Out migration from the Tarai to the Gulf, Malaysia, and India is greater than ever before. But Madhesis like Sah don’t even have the luxury of leaving, at least not legally.
The Madhes still falls in the penumbra of the Kathmandu-centric media, and the simmering anger and frustration of more than half the people of this country who live in the plains are often ignored or forgotten. Falling between the cracks are stories like that of 19-year-old Sukhi Lonia who was killed last month in Banke allegedly by police acting on instructions from a local strongman because Lonia had dared to marry a girl he had his eyes on.
“Every month we receive at least half a dozen cases of illegal arrests, detention, torture, and sometimes fake encounters by the police,” Dipendra Jha of the Tarai Human Rights Defenders (
THRD) Alliance told me this week. Illegal detention and torture is rife in Siraha, Sarlahi, Saptari, Mahottari, Rupandehi, and Banke where poor Madhesi boys are arbitrarily arrested by the police under the Arms and Ammunitions or Narcotics Act, only to extort money from the family.
It is getting increasingly difficult to distinguish between criminals and politicians, and police routinely act hand-in-glove with smugglers and kidnappers. The Home Minister’s constituency of Sunsari has become a hotbed for crime and contraband trafficking. A 22-year-old man from Siraha was recently arrested by the police who allegedly demanded Rs 500,000 from the family for his release.
Last week, locals attacked Upendra Yadav at a function organised to mark six years of the Madhes uprising in Saptari. At a different function in Siraha, the families of 2007 martyrs refused to grant the podium to the Minister for Information and Communication Raj Kishor Yadav. Madhesis’ anger is now directed at their own leaders who have neglected the interests of their own constituency.
In this January’s murky, sunless winter public dissatisfaction with betrayal simmers like a straw fire in the plains. It is only a matter of time before the fire bursts through again. When Martyrs’ Day is marked next week, the families of those killed in 2007 will ask their leaders: what did they die for?