FROM
ISSUE #168 (31 OCT 2003 - 06 NOV 2003)
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There
is an eerie quiet in the Maoist stronghold of Rukum in midwestern
Nepal. The Maoist militia have disappeared, and rumours have it that
they have moved out to the eastern tarai. Once in a while, an army
helicopter hovers overhead, but otherwise there is no sign of the
government. In Rukum's remote mountains, the villagers are enjoying the
peace as long as it lasts.
While the district headquarter at
Khalanga and former battle zones like Khara show a strong army presence,
most villages are under the sway of the Maoists. The rebels are so
confident the security forces cannot invade their strongholds, that they
have left the villages under control of their 'village peoples'
government'. They say the entire district, except Khalanga, is now under
the 'New Regime' and the party is turning its attention to rural
development.
"We
now plan to develop the villages," says Surendra Budathoki, ward chief
of Purtimkanda VDC under the village peoples' government. "We have
already begun to construct roads, bridges and public latrines. We're
also producing electricity at different places." This is in accordance
with a public directive issued by Shiva Lal Pun, leader of the village
peoples' government, which threatens "severe punishment" if his orders
are not obeyed. Locals have to make toilets in their homes or face the
possibility of being taken to the Maoist labour camp, even though they
have tried to explain that their more immediate priority is safe
drinking water.
In Khola Gau, the rebels have commandeered about
300 ropanis of Dharma Bahadur Shah's land. A dozen or so convicts
charged with murder and facing the Maoist brand of justice are forced to
work the fields, while Shah himself has fled to Nepalganj.
It
is now mandatory for people to take permission from the Maoist
authorities for weddings, divorces and even to travel to the district
headquarters. After they tied the knot two months ago, 15-year-olds
Nayan Bahadur Bohara and Buddhi Kumari Mahatara were forcibly separated
and sent to their respective homes by the rebels because they were
underage. The couple was also forced to pay Rs 3,000 each.
"We
are strictly against child marriage and polygamy," another village
leader told us. But the Maoist laws change from one village to the next
because they are randomly implemented without any basis. "Our laws
change according to the times. It is not necessary that the law of a
village should be the same as another," explains the leader. Lower
ranking Maoist rebels run the day to day activities in Rukum. They say
the militia and district level leaders have gone to 'special areas' and
won't divulge any other details. Reports from other sources believes the
leaders are gathering in the tarai.
Areas of Rukum under Maoist
control are officially dry. But there is moonshine available and some
villagers will secretly take a swig or two when they are sure no one is
looking. The Maoists also require those who want to leave to get
permission first. A Maoist 'visa' is neccesary for travel to Khalanga.
People visiting relatives for the holidays recently needed special
Maoist permits for going from Purtimkanda VDC to Chhibang through Simli.
All travellers face intense interrogations by both Maoist sentries as
well as security forces anywhere they go.
The government and
representatives of the national political parties are conspicuous in
their absence. Another remarkable sight is that in village after
village, there are only older people and children. There are no young
men and women, no teenagers. A whole generation has gone missing in the
villages of the midwest: they have moved to the cities or left the
country for safety and in search of work.
Most stayed away even
during Dasai out of fear of extortion and harassment. The shortage of
able-bodied men and women has meant that farm production has dwindled,
and there are looming food shortages. Teacher Birendra Mahatara says,
"The children are forced to take on adult chores and now have little
time for school." So, the schools have shut and it is the elderly who
are left to fend for themselves and take care of their grandchildren.
The
locals have discovered that people's rule is not what they had been
promised. They mutter about how their real needs have gone unattended
while the rebels are comfortable because they have no real opposition.
"Of course, we are scared that they may take action against us if we
complain," whispers one local. "We just do what they tell us to do."
They are weary of the compulsory activities that the Maoists force on
villagers, and some admit secretly that they are sick of obeying orders
and being threatened. But they are too scared to say these things openly
for fear of reprisal.
The villagers also remember the police
and the atrocities when they were in control here, and say that in some
ways their lives are better now. "At least it is peaceful, but you never
know when it will begin all over again," says teacher Bhim Bahadur Oli
of Chhibang. Everyone is worried about the collpase of the ceasefire two
months ago and fear an outbreak of fierce fighting similar to what took
place in Bhawang in neighbouring Rolpa last month. Their overwhelming
desire is for peace, so their loved ones can return home, and they can
get on with their lives.
Bal Bir Budathoki's son and daughter
joined the rebels. He says, "There is no alternative to peace, we must
be allowed to live in peace." Asked about his children, he presents a
carefully neutral fa?ade. "I just want them to be safe," he tells us.
There
is an undercurrent of alert fear among the villagers of Rukum. They
wait for what they fear most: the crack of a rifle or the deep boom of a
socket bomb from the valley below, heralding the start of another
bloody battle in this never-ending war.