2017: Decision, Nepal

Nepali election law bans the plastering of fliers, the hanging of banners, and the use of loudspeakers for broadcasting electoral slogans.  Nepali election law is apparently very loosely enforced; in my first few weeks in Lumbini I saw no end of fliers, banners, and loud trucks carrying louder speakers.

As the country approached the final vote on December 7th, you could set your watch by the sound of a rumbling truck, blaring the slogans of the communists, the democrats, or some local minor party. The fliers grew thicker by the day, blanketing buildings until almost every party was represented on every surface. It was a campaign full of unrealistic promises, personal attacks, and flagrant misuse of campaign funds.

In short, the whole thing was pretty similar to a U.S. election.

But unlike in the U.S., where elections are as regular as a man who eats nothing but raisin bran, this was the first real, honest-to-god election Election since the end of the civil war and overthrow of the monarchy in 2008. It wasn’t an election for the constituent assembly, it wasn’t for the committee to elect the committee to elect the prime minister. This was the real deal, the first general election under the new constitution. Every single office, from local legislators to the federal parliament, was on the ballot during several rounds of voting.

In a country with only 64% literacy, sound and symbol became more important to this process than text. Nepali radio was awash with advertisements for party symbols: catchy songs about the Marxist-Leninist’s sun and The Congress Party’s tree. When Nepalis went to the polls, their ballots had no names, just symbols. It was a democracy abstracted beyond the individual, beyond text.

While the Nepalis I met had widely varying ideas about which party would form a better government, everyone told me that any peaceful outcome would be a good outcome. Even some of the staunchest anti-communists in Lumbini were in good spirits when the left alliance pulled out a surprising landslide victory. To most Nepalis, the mere fact the election even happened is a miracle; “We’ll have a government now,” said a friend, who was by no means a communist, “and it will last five years, that’s the important thing.”

Spending time in a country that has worked so hard to create a new, functioning government offers perspective on the political upheaval in my own. After years of turmoil, the people of Nepal have crafted a progressive constitution which includes a strong system of checks and balances, robust guarantees for free speech, women’s rights LGBTQ rights, and ethnic minority protection. Their parliament is Mixed Member Proportional and has reserved seats for women and ethnic minorities. Their hope is for a clean, civic-minded government. The people of Nepal have shown, through this first, mostly peaceful election, a determination to fight for that goal, both locally and nationally. In many ways, with their nascent democracy, they’re already doing a better job than we are after almost 275 years.