It is still not too late for King Gyanendra to get off the road to disaster on which he has embarked, and work with the international community to resolve Nepal's crisis. But time is running out. The king may have thought that declaring an emergency and dismissing his government would enable him to confront the Maoists. Instead, he has ended up in confrontation with the country's democratic system and its intelligentsia. Since the declaration of emergency, his security forces have jailed political leaders and opened fire on student demonstrators. They have imposed censorship on the press and arrested seven prominent editors on various charges. When several magazines came out with blank editorial pages as a symbolic protest, they were summoned by the censorship authorities and asked to furnish an 'explanation'.
So far, the only gainers from this confrontation have been the Maoists. Till February 1, they had been ranged against not only the monarchy which they want to abolish, but also the mainstream political parties. They were therefore under considerable pressure to moderate their stand. Today all that has disappeared. The king's action has forced the cadres of the political parties to make common cause with the Maoists. So it is no surprise that the Maoists have hardened their stand and refused to enter into discussions with the king on the future of Nepal.
If the king persists in continuing down the road he has taken, then a civil war is literally around the corner. In Nepal's difficult terrain, this war simply cannot be won. By conservative estimates, the Maoists have at least 5,000 active cadres, and a substantial hold over the rural areas in roughly three quarters of the country. Even under the best of conditions, the government would need half a million troops to re-establish some degree of control over the country. But in the mountainous terrain, even this large army may not be able to control the insurgency. Against this, the total strength of the Royal Nepal Army (RNA) is less than 80,000.
Lack of roads and the primitive state of communications in the country makes it fatally easy for the Maoist cadres to elude the security forces. All that the RNA can do is terrorise villagers in the insurgency-affected areas in order to make them deny sanctuary to the Maoists. But this will only increase the latter's following, especially among the youth.
The king's decision has forced New Delhi to choose between supporting the king in an all-out attack on the Maoists or leaving him to fend for himself. So far, it has not set a foot wrong in its attempts to defuse the crisis. Faced with a worsening threat to India's security, it has borne down hard on the king to make him restore democracy and allow the political leaders to resume negotiations with the Maoists. To bring additional pressure to bear upon him, it has not hesitated to abandon its half-century-old policy of bilateralism in its dealings with Nepal and has built a common front with the US, UK and the European Union. But most important of all, it has finally taken the decision to stop supplying arms to Nepal.
These decisions have not been easy. Dr Manmohan Singh's government has been criticised for weakening the Nepalese government in its fight against terrorism and virtually handing victory to the Maoists on a platter. It has been reminded that the Maoists are no friends of India, and that they have developed extensive links with insurgent groups all over India, particularly in Bihar. A Maoist victory, the critics remind us, will not only enthuse our home-grown insurgents, but provide them with a ready sanctuary and source of arms in Nepal.
But these arguments do not stand up to scrutiny. First, Indian military aid alone is unlikely to tip the balance in favour of the RNA.Indeed, a military victory would not be certain even if half of the Indian army were to be deployed in Nepal. This of course is unthinkable.
Second, the critics of New Delhi's policy are greatly exaggerating the consequences of a Maoist victory in Nepal. No matter what government comes to power, it will still have to deal with the compulsions that arise from its geographical proximity to India, its dependence on the neighbour for access to the sea, and the high degree of integration of its economy—three quarters of its trade is with India. Twenty million or more Nepalis work here and their remittances constitute its main source of foreign currency. All of Nepal's river valleys run north to south into India. Thus, even a Maoist government will have to jettison its anti-India rhetoric and forge sustainable relations.
The government's critics have also warned that an unfriendly government in Nepal, whether that of the king or Maoists, is likely to forge stronger relations with China and give it a toehold south of the Himalayas. This would have been a serious threat twenty years ago, but is far less so today. Not only have Sino-Indian relations improved dramatically, but India's military and economic power and self-confidence have grown almost beyond recognition. The plain truth is that India has too many sticks and carrots in its armoury for dealing with Nepal to harbour serious misgivings about a change of regime in that country.
By putting every possible pressure on the king to change his policy, India has not merely aligned itself with the democratic parties and the intelligentsia in Nepal, but also avoided needlessly alienating the Maoists. Best of all, its strategy offers even the monarchy its best chance of survival. One can only hope that King Gyanendra will recognise this before it is too late.