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IT was merely three months back that Nepal was looking at the future with hope. Proving doomsday prophets wrong, the Nepali people and political class, with some help from the international community, successfully organized elections to constitute a new Constituent Assembly. Not only was the exercise largely peaceful, free and fair, it ensured the widest-ever participation in the country’s electoral history. Even more significant, despite the outcome surprising most observers, the results were accepted as legitimate. This in a country with a deeply fractured political class, and still recovering from the ravages of a decade long bloody insurgency and civil war, was a near miracle. Finally, or so it appeared, the worst was in the past. Nepal could now focus on debating and evolving the institutional architecture for a democratic, republican, egalitarian and inclusive nation.

Few underestimated the complexities of the challenge. Overcoming the legacy of decades of poverty and inequality – social, economic and political – can never be easy. And while there was broad consensus on doing away with the monarchy – in part because the incumbent king had proved so disastrous – no one was clear how the Maoists could be successfully integrated into the democratic mainstream, whether its armed cadre could be accommodated into the ‘new’ national army, and so on. But most of all, there were doubts whether the politicians and parties could demonstrate the ability to rise above their particularistic interests and work together to craft a new order. Nevertheless, many hoped and believed, that the experience of the struggle for restoration of democracy had altered the calculus governing political behaviour.

Three months down the line, the mood in the country is decidedly different, fearful and despondent, as elected leaders across party divides battle over who will control which office. The king has been deposed but, at the moment, no other head of state is in place. Nor is there any consensus on who, and from which party, should be the interim prime minister. No one knows who the army reports to or even who controls the police. Nepal today is experiencing a state of statelessness, teetering at the brink of anarchy.

Surely, this was not inevitable? Or, were all of us foolishly optimistic in believing that political leaders, fresh recipients of a democratic mandate, can and would imagine and practice a different politics, and rely on debate and reason rather than skullduggery? Is it not apparent that continuing with a politics of brinkmanship can be disastrous in a fragile and fraught situation, that as politicians squabble, the people suffer. And worse, does all this not add to cynicism, a deepening of distrust, not just about politicians and parties but democratic politics itself?

Shift the gaze to another neighbour, Pakistan. It was only the other day that we were all celebrating the elections which brought to an end what was virtually rule by the army. And, how many of us, disregarding the skeptics, ‘praised’ the ‘statesmanship’ of both Asif Zardari and Nawaz Sharif in burying the hatchet and defeating President General Pervez Musharraf’s party, initiating a process of recovery towards civilian run democracy. Yet here too, at least for the moment, the ‘realists’ seem to be having the last laugh, as the main political leaders seem unable to evolve a viable arrangement of power sharing.

The disturbing fact is that in many countries of the region (and elsewhere) both the political class and political institutions appeared frayed, out of sorts and incapable of responding to the social changes underway. Even as our peoples continue to favour multi-party, electoral democracy over any other form of political arrangement – rule by the military, religious leaders, monarchs or techno-bureaucratic experts – their faith and trust in politicians and parties, both central to democratic electoral politics, appears alarmingly low. Unfortunately, even as many politicians realize this and seem aware of the dangers of a heightened mood of cynicism, they seem unable to make a decisive break with past practice.

Nothing illustrates this better than the ongoing debate and political posturing about the merits and demerits of the proposed nuclear deal. Not only are most people still confused about the ‘real’ issues at stake, they are completely bewildered by the trading of charges, the crafting of fresh alliances between erstwhile opponents, the stories of deals and horse-trading. Whether or not the outcome of the ‘trust’ vote is good for the polity and country in the long run, it is highly unlikely that anyone ‘buys into’ the claims by political parties that their behaviour is governed by principles and national interest. And that is a price that they, and we, can ill-afford to pay.

Harsh Sethi