Now, the Maoists and elements of the erstwhile Seven Party Alliance have subsequently claimed that the ambiguity inherent in the substance and its dissemination was deliberate. It gave the rebels and the mainstream opposition parties enough flexibility to achieve the impossible: abolishing the monarchy.
Yeah, but that doesn’t quite cut it. The Indians, who had begun facilitating direct links between the two anti-palace forces long before the royal takeover, let the myth of an intrinsically Nepali-driven enterprise to persist. Only in January 2009 did Indian External Affairs Minister Pranab Mukherjee take ownership of the accord.
The Indian military, we now understand, was against mainstreaming the Nepali Maoists at the monarchy’s expense. The External Affairs Ministry, which had been taking a relatively hard line against the palace, had come under the soft-spoken Prime Minister Manmohan Singh after the hawkish Natwar Singh was forced to resign in early November 2005.
As a former external affairs minister hailing from the Marxist-dominated West Bengal, Mukherjee was responsible for steering the Indo-US civilian nuclear deal (123 Agreement) through parliament. The Manmohan Singh government, already dependent on the Marxists for survival, needed ratification support. Was the empowerment of a consolidated left in Nepal the basic minimum price the Indian National Congress needed to pay for its budding strategic alliance with the United States?
Because of his influence and experience, it would be fair to say that Mukherjee was also de facto foreign minister at the time of the 12-Point Understanding and subsequent Karan Singh-Shyam Saran shenanigans. The anti-monarchy sentiments of Saran, another firm advocate of the civilian nuclear deal, were known long before he had left Kathmandu to become foreign secretary.
During those two tumultuous days in April, Prime Minister Singh’s absence on foreign visit allowed Mukherjee and Saran to employ the 12-Point Understanding’s ambiguity to pull Nepal back from its traditional twin-pillar policy on Nepal. No less significantly, it gave the Indian premier plausible deniability at a highly critical time.
By the time Mukherjee returned as foreign minister in October 2006, the Chinese had already stunned the Indians by their intention and ability to snuggle deeper into what was to become the federal and secular republic of Nepal, overtaking the terms of the 12-Point Understanding. Since the 123 Agreement had to be ratified, India needed its left alliance to continue scripting the show.
Prime Minister Singh’s broader administration couldn’t afford to take its gaze off the neighborhood’s long- term scenario. Might Mukherjee have gone on Al Jazeera television in January 2009 – months into Maoist Prime Minister Pushpa Kamal Dahal’s overt efforts to ingratiate himself to the Chinese – to take ownership of at least the idea of the 2005 understanding? In other words, was Mukherjee under pressure from the home team to ensure the Nepali signatories did not veer dangerously off track?
Consider this. Mukherjee’s interview was broadcast days before he took additional charge of the finance ministry. He would continue as foreign minister until May. However, the 123 deal had already been ratified through a legislative sleight of hand: the Singh government had won a confidence vote in July 2008 that was equated with legislative endorsement of the deal.
In the 2009 elections, the Indian National Congress won enough seats with ideologically more pliable allies to abandon the left, which had been trounced in the polls, anyway. Had it let Nepal drift within pragmatic limits too long to be able to fully control the departure? In any case, the dilemma of 2005-2006 had not entirely disappeared, as demonstrated by the reception King Gyanendra continued to receive in official New Delhi during ostensibly private visits.
Suffice to say that the Narendra Modi government inherited a Nepal policy it disliked but could do little about, given its own wider struggles with the intricacies of India’s much-vaunted strategic autonomy. Despite sustained political and punitive pressure, India couldn’t get a Nepali constitution it could live with. Over time, the headache called Nepal, at least for the more verbose Indian analysts and commentators, was worsening just as India was being forced to crane its neck in all directions.
To cut a long story short: maybe the ambiguity of the 12-Point Understanding was intended more for India’s benefit. Now that it is hurting them, are they looking for an escape route? If so, was the counsel by one S. Ramesh that it “might be smart for India to revisit its earlier doctrine of constitutional monarchy and multiparty democracy and support the restoration of the 1990 Constitution” the first decibels of an impending din? Maybe the principal architect is now intent on holding our ruling class responsible for exceeding Delhi Compromise II’s brief? That would help explain the current antics of Nepali leaders.
And speaking of ambiguities, the author is identified as a former additional secretary with the Indian Cabinet Secretariat. Yet he seems to be so close to the 2005-2006 story in a way that only the S. Jairam of the Indian Embassy who won the fattest golfer title in the Soaltee Crowne Plaza Crazy Golf Tournament in early 2005 could have been. If it is indeed the same person, isn’t it odd that a reputable Indian daily would omit the writer’s obviously germane stint in Kathmandu?
