Posted by: gyanguru January 10, 2011
Is 'development' itself the cause of Nepal's problems?
Login in to Rate this Post:     0       ?        

As published in Myrepublica.

Is 'development' itself the cause of Nepal's problems?
 
 

DR JEREMY RAPPLEYE

 
What if ‘development’ was the cause of Nepal’s problems, not the solution? If that is true, then wouldn’t more ‘development aid’ push Nepal toward further social disintegration?

Let’s take a brief trip back in history. ‘Development’, by which I mean the system of aid agencies and transfer of funds from the First to the Third World, actually has an exact starting date: US President’s Truman’s Four Point Plan speech in 1949. The US was eager to both (a) increase its influence in countries newly liberated from colonization and (b) fight Communist influence that threatened the global capitalist system. As fate would have it, Nepal threw off the Rana oligarchy at nearly the same moment. The confluence of these two events brought ‘development’ to Nepal: The US eager to hold back swelling Communist influence in the region (recall China ‘fell’ in 1949) and Nepal eager to leave behind the legacy of the Ranas, modernize, and build a ‘nation’ through inclusion, education and democracy.

The resulting system seemed to work well throughout the 1950s, but by the 1960s it was clear that these two goals were diverging. The US and other donor representatives cared little about how well ‘development’ served Nepal, but instead making sure they could report favorably back to superiors back ‘home’. Take education for example: The system designed by American experts in the 1950s failed to function well with local managed teachers mere ‘slaves’ to powerful village chiefs, no real provisions for creating a cohesive nation, and the production of graduates who found no jobs except in the aid-driven sectors of the economy and refused to return to the villages.

The emergence of problems with the earlier American vision was the reason the government instituted the National Education System Plan (1971) attempting to nationalize teachers, create a cohesive Nepali identity, realign education with the economy, and send students ‘back to the village’ through programs like the National Development Service. It is little wonder then that the US and other donors substantially decreased assistance during this time and also dubbed the plan a mere ‘ploy’ by the palace to solidify the Panchayat system.
By the early 1980s, however, the Panchayat system was under attack for other reasons. Students protested, teachers went on strike and the discontent culminated in the People’s Movement (1990).

But, as with the earlier fall of the Ranas, Nepal’s own vision of its future – inclusion, democracy, equity – was quickly overtaken by international donor demands. By the late 1990s, Nepal’s own vision had all but been turned almost completely around: An exclusive focus on efficiency, cost-effectiveness and a consumer logic. In fact, from ‘citizen to consumer’ characterize rather well the two decades since Janaandolan. Again, consider education. The National Education Commission (1990-1992) inaugurated in the wake of Janaandolan stated that the goal was to create an educational system “consistent with the human rights enshrined in the constitution and the democratic values and norms as well as social justice.”
What happens when loss of faith in ‘development’ occurs? The American anthropologist James Ferguson argues that two responses dominate: Exit or violence. For those who have lost faith in the promise of ‘development’ as they watch their living conditions stagnate or sink, one option is to try to get out; exit to a better space. The second option is to resort to violence.

Ten years later, the main themes are decentralization and private schools – the exact same policies we see the donors promoting in every other country of the world. It is little wonder then that it has brought to Nepal the exact same results: A massive spike in inequality, growing exclusion along class lines and the breakdown of democracy.

Donors took control of the processes of development in the 1950s and we have seen them do the same in the 1990s. For all but a very small number of elites in Kathmandu who are able to profit from the aid enterprise, ‘development’ has twice passed the Nepali people by. For the vast majority, livelihoods have not increased but decreased. This is an important point: Despite the positive image bikas tends to carry, people are clearly waking up to the realities. Loading-shedding has increased, fuel shortages, garbage piling up in the streets, traffic, pollution, and dance bars offering poor Nepali girls to rich Indian tourists. Considering what Kathmandu looked like 50 years ago, what will it look like 50 years in the future? And this is just Kathmandu, where most people still believe in ‘development’.

Venture beyond the rim of the valley and that is where the real future of Nepal lies. It is here that the vast majority of the ‘twice-passed-by’ people live and they are losing patience. Fast. The genius of bikas is that it promised that inequalities would be lessened over time. This was true both within the country and across the world: Poor people were told by donors and local elites to wait patiently, do the right thing, and they would ‘catch-up’. Being twice-passed-by, however, has created a disbelief in ‘development’.

What is left when our faith in ‘development’ falters? The harsh reality of inequality, but this time without the hope of change. Clearly many Nepalis have lost faith in ‘development’ itself along such lines.

And what happens when this loss of faith in ‘development’ occurs? The American anthropologist James Ferguson argues that two responses dominate: Exit or violence. For those who have lost faith in the promise of ‘development’ as they watch their living conditions stagnate or sink, one option is to try to get out; exit to a better space. When viewed in this way, present-day Nepal looks like one big ‘race for the exits’: Villagers leaving to go to the Gulf, students leaving by the thousands to study and work abroad, and many more simply walking into India. This is much more than a search for a better salary or job; these movements signal a lack of faith in the promise of ‘development’ to deliver a better tomorrow for Nepal. Further evidence unrelated to economics help prove the point: Different ethnic groups (think Madheshis) are attempting to ‘exit’ the political system. The loss of faith in ‘development’ has advanced to the point where it is creating a lack of faith in ‘democracy’ as well.

The second option open to those who have lost faith in ‘development’ is violence. ‘Crashing the gates of the first class, smashing bricked up walls and breaking through, if only temporarily, to the other side of privilege and plenty’ is how Ferguson puts it. Is this not some of the motive behind the rise of the Maoists? That is, despite well-articulated political goals by the Maoist leadership, is it not the case that some of the more raw violence of those in the party is motivated by this loss of faith in ‘development’, even that promised by its own party? If this is the case, then as the Maoists lessen their radical stance to appeal to more moderate voters, they will simultaneously lose those within their own party who have lost faith and are no longer willing to ‘wait their turn’. These groups will break off and mostly likely launch another attempt to ‘crash the gates of the first class’ this time without a political ideology, but this time also fueled by the grievance of being three-times-passed-over. It’s a haunting image.

To conclude, let me shift to consider Nepal’s place in the world. The global economy does not need Nepal, nor will it until the vast human sources of China and India have been exhausted. Donors will continue to talk about the ‘opportunities of the global economy’ and elites who mistake the profit they make from ‘development’ aid for the benefits of the ‘global economy’ will agree to more and more development offered by donors. Yet, because these projects are narrowly designed to serve economic goals, they will do nothing to improve social and political tensions. Nevertheless, as economic goals predictably fail to materialize, stagnation and a loss of faith in ‘development’ will continue to grow among the masses. We will see increased exit and violence, not less.
So who is to blame and what is the solution? Blame is perhaps the only growth industry in Nepal; finger-pointing advances in lockstep with stagnation. So we must be careful. Nevertheless, donors need to bear some of the blame.

Yet, having seen this happen before, Nepali policymakers must also take responsibility. But the biggest finger needs to be pointed right back at many of the current readers, those who continue to believe in the idea of ‘development’ amid the obvious stagnation of the country. Those who try to carve out a ‘first world’ existence through private schools, luxury hotels, satellite television, and curtains on their SUVs to block out the putrefying stagnation of Nepal deserve the most blame because they are the ones educated enough to see things clearly. Here is the beginning of a solution: Viewing not the future ideal but the current reality of bikas in Nepal, coming to terms with the country’s place in the global economy, and recapturing some of the equity, inclusion, and social justice goals that Nepal committed itself to in 1950 and 1990. This may sound radical, but no more radical that what is likely to occur in the very near future if Nepali elites do not voluntary move in that direction.

Writer holds a doctorate degree from University of Oxford & is currently researching on Nepal

jeremyrappleye@yahoo.com
Read Full Discussion Thread for this article