Time to say sorry
Kathmandu: Some three decades ago, a young hydro engineer working for the government accompanied a member of the-then national legislature, the Rastriya Panchayat, on a tour of a few districts in the Far West. Walking up from Attariya, the duo made their way over the hills and took in a number of districts. Everywhere, they were put up with all the regard due to an honourable member, sometimes by the Chief District Officer, sometimes by some other government functionary depending on where they halted for the night. Everything seemed well, except that the engineer noticed that all of their hosts were of a religious bent as each and everyone seemed to be fasting that particular day. A middle-class Kathmandu Bahun who had just returned from studies abroad, the engineer did not consider it particularly amiss since people have their ways. Until the honourable member, a Dalit, enlightened him that the fast was simply an excuse not to partake of dinner with them.
Given the entrenchment of caste in Nepali society, any observant individual would have similar tales to relate. One of my own involves a Dalit teacher in Bajura a generation after the above episode. This was at the height of the Maoist insurgency and the teacher lived with an ‘upper caste’ family. Whenever the Maoists were in the village, the teacher would be invited into the house for his meals but as soon as the Maoists went away, he would be back outside eating his food in solitary humiliation. And, in all likelihood, he has never got to see the inside of any landlord’s house again following the end of the conflict.
Stories such as these are so commonplace as to become almost apocryphal. And, nearly a decade after the momentous changes of 2006, Dalits continue to face obstacles as part of an everyday routine. Take the recent results of the National Assessment of Student Achievement 2013 that looked at what Grade VIII students had learnt in Nepali, mathematics, and science. Compared to the national learning achievement average of 47, 35, and 41 percent in the three subjects, Dalit students scored 40, 24, and 35 percent, respectively. That their achievement, even in Nepali, was so far below a national average that would have been dragged down by students who picked it up as a second language is telling. The assessment rightly concludes: “Modern education in Nepal has been influenced in several ways by the legacy of the historical caste system which still lives in the mind-sets of most Nepalese society (sic).”
Seeking apology
So, what is to be done, as Lenin asked rhetorically? There is little to be hoped for from our vanguard communist party (or parties, considering the many that still claim fealty to him) that was Lenin’s solution to all of society’s problems. Even after 10 years of a bloody civil conflict and many more years of semi-revolutionary activities, the condition of Dalits has remained somewhat the same. There is no doubt that the Caste-based Discrimination and Untouchability Act of 2011 is a major step forward and although the police are more inclined nowadays to book people, there is still a great deal of foot-dragging by the state when it comes to standing by the side of victims of caste discrimination.
Perhaps what we have lacked so far is a national discussion on the issue of caste and how it has affected a large section of our population. A start can be made with the state expressing remorse to Dalits for the centuries-long oppression. There are precedents from other parts of the world such as the apologies rendered made by the governments of Canada and Australia in 2008 towards their own indigenous populations. Making his statement before parliament, the Canadian prime minister asked “the forgiveness of the Aboriginal peoples of this country for failing them so profoundly”. He then went on to say “We are sorry” in five different languages, including three indigenous ones. Similarly, the Australian prime minister, also speaking before the parliament, said, “We apologise for the laws and policies of successive Parliaments and governments that have inflicted profound grief, suffering and loss on these our fellow Australians.”
Entrenched since the ages
Considering that much of the indignities faced by our Dalit compatriots and those who may have left the country in escape have its roots in the 1854 Muluki Ain, and considering also that our present state is a successor to the one that promulgated that law, it behooves our government to issue such an apology. One accepts the fact that the caste system was not created by that state and that it simply laid down in law what was then in practice. But by providing the legal basis for continued differences on the basis of caste, it has a moral responsibility to own culpability.
This is particularly so because among all the population groups of Nepal, it is only Dalits who did not have a say in how they were going to be treated. Of the 210 signatories of the Court Council mentioned in one version of the old Muluki Ain (available on the website of the Nepal Law Commission), starting with Prime Minister and Commander-in-Chief General Jung Bahadur Kunwar Ranaji to Subedar Gambhir Gurung, nowhere does a Dalit name figure. Probably due to errors that may have crept into the different editions, the number of signers differs from source to source with, for instance, Andras Höfer counting 219 and Harka Gurung calculating 212. Höfer finds Chhetris numbering more than 100 and Bahuns 30. Gurung, on the other hand, found that 91.2 per cent consisted of “upper castes”, in which he includes Newars (15.9 per cent) and Madhesis (0.9 per cent). Notably, Janajatis also figure in the list although no one can say for sure how many. Gurung believes that number to be six (2.8 percent) while Höfer counts “about three Gurung, about four Magar; another 4-5 might be Tamang or of other ethnic groups”. Given that this was before Magars in the Nepali army were required to append “Magar” to their surnames, there is no saying how many of the Thapas listed were Magar. Then there are people who appear only with their first names but one can be quite certain there was not a single Dalit among the 200-plus signatories.
The old Muluki Ain not only ranked different groups but also within the groups, including Dalits. As a result, we find insensitive ignoramuses sometimes taunting Dalits to rid themselves of their own caste hierarchy before seeking parity with others. In fact, the Muluki Ain has a separate section titled “On water-unacceptable low and high castes”, detailing the hierarchy from the “impure but ‘touchable’ caste” of Kasahi down to the “untouchable” Chyame. As Höfer points out, “the hierarchical order seems to result primarily from the de facto interrelations, as they have ‘come to be’ among the various castes and which are now codified as such.” That appears to have been the case but there is no denying that it divided the Dalit population by law for more than a century and continues to have an impact on social relations among themselves.
There are many reasons why a state should say “Sorry”. Perhaps the most compelling would be what a scholar has said, “Remorse improves the national spirit and health. It raises the moral threshold of a society.” We would certainly like to believe that our moral threshold is higher than that of our forebears.
Source: The Kathmandu Post
