...the situation at [Bangkok's] Rajprasong intersection [,the heart of the city's major shopping area,] became tense when the protesters blocked anti-riot police, who were preparing to move out from the Royal Thai Police headquarters to the protesting stage. A confrontation took place for five minutes.
The protesters brought Buddhist monks to the front, to counter which the police regrouped by bringing female riot police to the front of their lines. The protesters retreated as Buddhist monks in the Theravada sect cannot have physical contact with females.
--from The Nation
Breaking News: Re yesterday's piece (see below), according to reports the government has taken back the red shirts' TV station, and red shirts in Khon Kaen, close to where I'm headed, are gathering to take over its City Hall.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Friday, April 9, 2010
My Coming Tour Of Asian Protest Sites
The local American embassy here in Nepal sent me an e-mail newsletter today, informing me that the Maoists will be holding a nationwide protest on Monday, and their plan is to block all major roads. I'm scheduled to leave Nepal for Bangkok from the airport in Kathmandu on Monday, and I live in Pharping, 45 minutes away up in the mountains. The locals suggest that if I leave Pharping early in the morning, I'll probably be able to get through before the burning tires and men with clubs are set up. Everything starts late in Nepal.
If I get to Bankok on Monday, the news is that thousands and thousands of angry red shirts, many of which being farmers and others from northeastern Thailand (Issan) who feel under represented by the yellow shirts, the wealthy, educated elite who they say presently run the country from their powerful political positions in Bangkok. At present the red shirts are blockading a number of the major intersections in Bankok, having just regained control of the local TV station that is a major communication source for the protesters.
Last year I was one of the first to leave Bangkok for Kathmandu after a yellow shirt blockade of the airport. This year both the Maoists in Nepal and the red shirts in Thailand are protesting at the same time, making my present activities exciting, but unpredictable. Since I plan to be elsewhere in Thailand until I go to Bangkok on the 27th for my annual checkup at Bumrungrad Hospital, I hope that things have been cooled down by then. After all, it's going to be Songkran in Thailand for the next two weeks, and maybe the buckets of water that are normally poured on one and all will do the trick!
If I get to Bankok on Monday, the news is that thousands and thousands of angry red shirts, many of which being farmers and others from northeastern Thailand (Issan) who feel under represented by the yellow shirts, the wealthy, educated elite who they say presently run the country from their powerful political positions in Bangkok. At present the red shirts are blockading a number of the major intersections in Bankok, having just regained control of the local TV station that is a major communication source for the protesters.
Last year I was one of the first to leave Bangkok for Kathmandu after a yellow shirt blockade of the airport. This year both the Maoists in Nepal and the red shirts in Thailand are protesting at the same time, making my present activities exciting, but unpredictable. Since I plan to be elsewhere in Thailand until I go to Bangkok on the 27th for my annual checkup at Bumrungrad Hospital, I hope that things have been cooled down by then. After all, it's going to be Songkran in Thailand for the next two weeks, and maybe the buckets of water that are normally poured on one and all will do the trick!
Thursday, April 1, 2010
February In Kathmandu
The two big grocery stores in Kathmandu both have separated liguor departments with all manner of offerings from around the world. Both Bhatbhateni and Bluebird markets have various brands of Pastis from Marcelles, all in big bottles with similar label designs. I bought Fanny brand, the least expensive, 90 proof, for 1195 Nepal rupees, $9.60. The licorice tasting liquid pours a golden green into the glass, but add an ice cube and water, and it turns murky white, like the Kathmandu morning fog.
Some say the Kathkmandu Valley has six seasons. Here, it's late February, and Winter has passed into pre-Spring. As the drought continues, the sun burns off the early morning mist, and by noon you're comfortable in a short sleeved t-shirt if you're out in the sun. The late afternoon winds cool things down and a long-sleeved shirt is often needed. Not long ago, it would be dark by 6pm; now it's light until nearly 7.
Yesterday we attended an elaborate ceremony by Buddhist monks at Ka Nying monastery in Boudha, a suburb of Kathmanda, celebrating the casting out of evil as the Tibetan New Year nears. The 40 minute drive out of the mountains into Kathmandu was not without incident, since it was a holiday in honor of Shiva, and all of the school children were given the day off. While they didn't dress up, an Americanized trick or treat was done in reverse: the treaters came to the tricksters. During the 20 mile journey, we were stopped by children with rope roadblocks on the narrow country roads at least 20 times and asked to pay a toll in order to continue. Most drivers did so with good humor, even paying some tolls to groups of young men who appeared to be very late graduates.
The Buddhist ceremony was not without incident, either. Near its end the seated lead monk in black brocade robes with a large hat decorated in skulls frowned at a triangular haystack 30 feet in front of him, rose up and, like a baseball pitcher with his right foot pointed at the sky, hurled a large dart into the haystack. The fun began in ernest when an assistant monk brought him a lethal looking bow and a quiver of pointed arrows. I was in the crowd directly behind the haystack, and a rather large monk kept pushing us to the side as the black monk became more animated and mock-angry at the haystack. The previous arrow zipped through the haystack and halfway through a sheet of corrugated roofing behind it. Packed tightly in a bunch with nowhere to go, we became concerned for our safety as the frowning, black robed monk aimed his arrow, jerking around in a spastic ritual as he began his final attack on the haystack. Pictures at 10.
By then, Christine, who was in another part of the crowd, was getting nervous, since the sun was about to go down and we had to navigate narrow mountainous roads in the dark, with the threat of a roadblock by real bandits a remote, but real, possibility. Our driver wasted no time on the return trip, swerving around precipitous mountain curves while answering cellphone calls from folks concerned about our whereabouts. Exhausted, we immediately went to bed when we arrived back in Pharping, but couldn't sleep for hours due to a group of youthful, enthusiastic Shiva celebrants singing songs in front of the Hindu shrine below our window. But that's another story.
Some say the Kathkmandu Valley has six seasons. Here, it's late February, and Winter has passed into pre-Spring. As the drought continues, the sun burns off the early morning mist, and by noon you're comfortable in a short sleeved t-shirt if you're out in the sun. The late afternoon winds cool things down and a long-sleeved shirt is often needed. Not long ago, it would be dark by 6pm; now it's light until nearly 7.
Yesterday we attended an elaborate ceremony by Buddhist monks at Ka Nying monastery in Boudha, a suburb of Kathmanda, celebrating the casting out of evil as the Tibetan New Year nears. The 40 minute drive out of the mountains into Kathmandu was not without incident, since it was a holiday in honor of Shiva, and all of the school children were given the day off. While they didn't dress up, an Americanized trick or treat was done in reverse: the treaters came to the tricksters. During the 20 mile journey, we were stopped by children with rope roadblocks on the narrow country roads at least 20 times and asked to pay a toll in order to continue. Most drivers did so with good humor, even paying some tolls to groups of young men who appeared to be very late graduates.
The Buddhist ceremony was not without incident, either. Near its end the seated lead monk in black brocade robes with a large hat decorated in skulls frowned at a triangular haystack 30 feet in front of him, rose up and, like a baseball pitcher with his right foot pointed at the sky, hurled a large dart into the haystack. The fun began in ernest when an assistant monk brought him a lethal looking bow and a quiver of pointed arrows. I was in the crowd directly behind the haystack, and a rather large monk kept pushing us to the side as the black monk became more animated and mock-angry at the haystack. The previous arrow zipped through the haystack and halfway through a sheet of corrugated roofing behind it. Packed tightly in a bunch with nowhere to go, we became concerned for our safety as the frowning, black robed monk aimed his arrow, jerking around in a spastic ritual as he began his final attack on the haystack. Pictures at 10.
By then, Christine, who was in another part of the crowd, was getting nervous, since the sun was about to go down and we had to navigate narrow mountainous roads in the dark, with the threat of a roadblock by real bandits a remote, but real, possibility. Our driver wasted no time on the return trip, swerving around precipitous mountain curves while answering cellphone calls from folks concerned about our whereabouts. Exhausted, we immediately went to bed when we arrived back in Pharping, but couldn't sleep for hours due to a group of youthful, enthusiastic Shiva celebrants singing songs in front of the Hindu shrine below our window. But that's another story.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
A Setback for Talks in Nepal
by Krishna Pokharel, The Wall Street Journal, 3/22/2010
NEW DELHI—Prospects for a lasting peace in Nepal were dealt a blow
over the weekend by the death of former Prime Minister Girija Prasad
Koirala, the head of a committee that aimed to break an impasse in
peace negotiations before a May deadline.
Mr. Koirala served five terms as Nepal's prime minister and was chief
architect of the peace process under which Maoist rebels came out of
their mountain hideouts in 2006, ending a decade-long insurgency. He
also led the democratic movement that culminated in the fall of the
240-year-old Nepalese Hindu monarchy in 2008.
Mr. Koirala died Saturday at age 86 of multiple organ failure, doctors
treating him said. Despite his achievements, his legacy of peace is
fragile, with a democracy that remains in its infancy.
Nepal held national elections for its first constituent assembly in
2008, giving 601 politicians from various political stripes, castes
and ethnic groups the mandate to rewrite the country's constitution
and restructure the nation.
The two-year deadline ends May 28, and political parties are still
haggling over the details. The constituent assembly, which also acts
as the parliament, can extend the deadline to write the constitution
by six months—but it would first have to declare a national
emergency, which could be destabilizing to the country's democracy.
The proposed integration of some 19,000 former Maoist fighters into
the national army is the most contentious of the issues on which the
success of the peace process hinges. These fighters are kept in United
Nations-supervised camps. Politicians have yet to agree on how to
induct the politically motivated fighters into the tradition-bound
army of about 90,000 that they used to fight.
Mr. Koirala was the chairman of a high-level political committee
formed earlier this year to resolve the differences among parties on
the integration of the Maoist fighters into the national army and on
other issues, such as rewriting the constitution by the May deadline.
The lack of a unifying personality, a role Mr. Koirala had taken, may
leave the parties squabbling on key issues, delaying the constitution.
On Sunday, leaders of political parties across the spectrum said they
will work together as a tribute to Mr. Koirala.
Pushpa Kamal Dahal, head of the Maoist party, the Unified Communist
Party of Nepal (Maoist), said Mr. Koirala's death "will have an effect
on peace and the constitution-making process."
On Sunday, thousands of Nepalis poured into the sports ground at the
center of Katmandu, where Mr. Koirala lay in state. He was cremated
later Sunday on the banks of the Bagmati river near the city's
Pashupatinath temple, and his funeral was carried out with state
honors, which had previously been provided only to the king as head of
state.
NEW DELHI—Prospects for a lasting peace in Nepal were dealt a blow
over the weekend by the death of former Prime Minister Girija Prasad
Koirala, the head of a committee that aimed to break an impasse in
peace negotiations before a May deadline.
Mr. Koirala served five terms as Nepal's prime minister and was chief
architect of the peace process under which Maoist rebels came out of
their mountain hideouts in 2006, ending a decade-long insurgency. He
also led the democratic movement that culminated in the fall of the
240-year-old Nepalese Hindu monarchy in 2008.
Mr. Koirala died Saturday at age 86 of multiple organ failure, doctors
treating him said. Despite his achievements, his legacy of peace is
fragile, with a democracy that remains in its infancy.
Nepal held national elections for its first constituent assembly in
2008, giving 601 politicians from various political stripes, castes
and ethnic groups the mandate to rewrite the country's constitution
and restructure the nation.
The two-year deadline ends May 28, and political parties are still
haggling over the details. The constituent assembly, which also acts
as the parliament, can extend the deadline to write the constitution
by six months—but it would first have to declare a national
emergency, which could be destabilizing to the country's democracy.
The proposed integration of some 19,000 former Maoist fighters into
the national army is the most contentious of the issues on which the
success of the peace process hinges. These fighters are kept in United
Nations-supervised camps. Politicians have yet to agree on how to
induct the politically motivated fighters into the tradition-bound
army of about 90,000 that they used to fight.
Mr. Koirala was the chairman of a high-level political committee
formed earlier this year to resolve the differences among parties on
the integration of the Maoist fighters into the national army and on
other issues, such as rewriting the constitution by the May deadline.
The lack of a unifying personality, a role Mr. Koirala had taken, may
leave the parties squabbling on key issues, delaying the constitution.
On Sunday, leaders of political parties across the spectrum said they
will work together as a tribute to Mr. Koirala.
Pushpa Kamal Dahal, head of the Maoist party, the Unified Communist
Party of Nepal (Maoist), said Mr. Koirala's death "will have an effect
on peace and the constitution-making process."
On Sunday, thousands of Nepalis poured into the sports ground at the
center of Katmandu, where Mr. Koirala lay in state. He was cremated
later Sunday on the banks of the Bagmati river near the city's
Pashupatinath temple, and his funeral was carried out with state
honors, which had previously been provided only to the king as head of
state.
Monday, February 8, 2010
NYT Drops The Ball On Nepal Story
In 2008 NYT reporter Jim Yardley moved from the newspaper's Beijing bureau to become Delhi bureau co-chief. At that time he was praised by the previous bureau chief:
"Jim's work in China has helped set a standard in how to conceptualize, report, and write a narrative-based series. And in the last year, as China became an urgent news story as well as a fertile source of grand themes, Jim worked nearly around the clock, collaborating on groundbreaking stories about the Olympics, the Sichuan earthquake, the uproar over Tibet, the burgeoning food and quality scandals, and much more."
Why, then, did Yardley miss a major point in his recent Nepal story, Nepal Waits as 2 Armies, Former Foes, Become One and fail to provide a balanced view of the events?
Yardley reports that "Within the next four months, Nepal must complete the final and most difficult piece of the 2006 peace agreement that ended the brutal Maoist insurrection by integrating these fighters from the People’s Liberation Army of Nepal into the country’s security forces, including the Nepalese Army," and blames both sides for failing to carry out the military terms of the 2006 agreement: Maoist leaders and Nepalese political parties have alternately bickered and dithered, with Maoists stalling the dismantling of their army while negotiations go on about how to revise the Constitution."
Yardley also reports that Maoist soldiers who have been disqualified from participating in the future joint military will have difficulty going back into the civilian population: "Even though the Maoist soldiers have remained in the cantonments for three years, the terms of the peace deal have tightly restricted access to them by United Nations caseworkers, allowing almost no opportunities to interview or counsel them. Instead, the soldiers have been subjected to regular political education sessions on Maoist dogma, something that may make their re-entry into society even harder."
However he fails to mention that this universal Maoist education in dogma is seen by the government as cause to reject the military integration that the 2006 agreement calls for. Since the military is and will remain under the control of the head of government, the only way the military could be integrated is if the government were under the control of Maoist ideology, which it isn't. Thats why the Maoist Prime Minister resigned his office when the politially diverse majority government refused to admit the Maoists into the military. If this were to happen, a significant number of members of the military, the Maoist faction, would not be answerable to the government, and the purpose of the military would be undermined.
Yardley has written a facile story on the subject. Since he failed to provide some of the significant facts of the story, he has done both his readers and the newspaper he works for a disservice.
--Jerry Politex, Napel Calls
"Jim's work in China has helped set a standard in how to conceptualize, report, and write a narrative-based series. And in the last year, as China became an urgent news story as well as a fertile source of grand themes, Jim worked nearly around the clock, collaborating on groundbreaking stories about the Olympics, the Sichuan earthquake, the uproar over Tibet, the burgeoning food and quality scandals, and much more."
Why, then, did Yardley miss a major point in his recent Nepal story, Nepal Waits as 2 Armies, Former Foes, Become One and fail to provide a balanced view of the events?
Yardley reports that "Within the next four months, Nepal must complete the final and most difficult piece of the 2006 peace agreement that ended the brutal Maoist insurrection by integrating these fighters from the People’s Liberation Army of Nepal into the country’s security forces, including the Nepalese Army," and blames both sides for failing to carry out the military terms of the 2006 agreement: Maoist leaders and Nepalese political parties have alternately bickered and dithered, with Maoists stalling the dismantling of their army while negotiations go on about how to revise the Constitution."
Yardley also reports that Maoist soldiers who have been disqualified from participating in the future joint military will have difficulty going back into the civilian population: "Even though the Maoist soldiers have remained in the cantonments for three years, the terms of the peace deal have tightly restricted access to them by United Nations caseworkers, allowing almost no opportunities to interview or counsel them. Instead, the soldiers have been subjected to regular political education sessions on Maoist dogma, something that may make their re-entry into society even harder."
However he fails to mention that this universal Maoist education in dogma is seen by the government as cause to reject the military integration that the 2006 agreement calls for. Since the military is and will remain under the control of the head of government, the only way the military could be integrated is if the government were under the control of Maoist ideology, which it isn't. Thats why the Maoist Prime Minister resigned his office when the politially diverse majority government refused to admit the Maoists into the military. If this were to happen, a significant number of members of the military, the Maoist faction, would not be answerable to the government, and the purpose of the military would be undermined.
Yardley has written a facile story on the subject. Since he failed to provide some of the significant facts of the story, he has done both his readers and the newspaper he works for a disservice.
--Jerry Politex, Napel Calls
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