Is long-lasting peace possible ?

By Dr Alok K Bohara

In an old movie, two macho guys play "chicken" by driving their cars towards a cliff, and the one to swerve away last is to be declared winner. There is no optimal way to play this game, because in order to win you have to be willing to keep driving until you fall off the cliff. All options are bad and even a simple draw would require both to swerve simultaneously. This is the game scheme that has been used to describe the Cuban missile crisis between the US and the Soviet Union.

The purpose of this article is to explain a game theory bargaining model of the current situation between the government and the Maoists, and show that the latest decision of the Maoists to revert back to violence was a miscalculated irrational move, which, among other things, has plunged the nation into deep chaos and unrest.

In any conflict, a simple game consists of two players each with two options — to negotiate to solve a dispute and perhaps settle for some form of compromise (A) or to act on the threat points (insurgency or army reprisal) to escalate the conflict (D).

The escalation options under the state of (D) result in three possible outcomes: a complete victory and a hope to win the entire reward, a possibility of losing everything to the opponent (as in Afghanistan), or a drawn-out costly conflict (as in Sri Lanka). Since the escalating route is risky and expensive, the warring parties tend to stay away from this option unless there is a (perceived) benefit of starting a conflict (B or C) to gain some bargaining advantages (eg, Arafat’s refusal to accept Barak’s offer at Camp David and his decision to restart the Palestinian Intifada). Because of the mutual fear of each other’s credible threat points, the parties generally would not prefer to stay on B or C for a long period of time; they tend to move to a Nashe quilibrium solution A, which should be a second best, but a preferred scenario for both (ending of the cold war instead of continuing a nuclear stand-off). If one party does not have an ability (or reluctance) to act on its threat point, its opponent’s best strategy is then not to come to the negotiating table, but to act on its own threat point and stay there, weaken the opponent’s position as long as possible, and improve its bargaining position (ie, staying on the off-diagonal positions B or C ). For the last six years, the Maoists stayed in position B, and showed no interest in moving to the negotiating table (outcome A).

The reason was that the beleaguered governments could not demonstrate that its threat point to wage any reprisal was credible. As a result, the Maoists’ strategy to stay in position B payed-off: (1) they became financially strong through various bank raids and fund raising, (2) generated positive public support, (3) enjoyed party squabbles, (4) increased rebel recruitments, (5) raised doubts about the army and the palace’s ability and resolution, (6) enjoyed watching the Congress leaderships oust each other. Further, as predicted by this model, without moving from B to A, the Maoists made the governments give up on numerous issues such as, untouchability, property rights for daughters, land reforms, anti-corruption acts, and the biggest prize of all, the resignation of Koirala. In return, the Maoists gave nothing.

According to this game, they did not have to, and, notwithstanding the reasons, it was the "fault" of the previous governments for not being able to generate any popular support in creating a credible threat point to push the rebels towards the negotiation table. Thus, aside from the motives and problems surrounding him, Koirala’s game was theoretically right all along in his firm stance in demanding permission to use the army to face the Maoists. If nothing else, it would have shown the rebels that the government’s threat point was not without teeth, and, if the government had been successful, it would have forced the rebels to come to the table with some reasonable offers. Granted that there was a possibility that a military move by an unpopular government, on the other hand, would have resulted in a totally unpredictable outcome. Nevertheless, with Koirala gone, rebels came to the table swaggering with a litany of non-negotiable demands such as, a place in the interim government, abolition of monarchy, and establishment of a republic, demands that they knew would be rejected by the government.

In order to keep the Maoists in state A, the new government tried to show its good faith by undertaking many initiatives that the rebels found totally unattractive (eg, bills related to issues of land
reform, property rights, and outlawing untouchability). Their negotiating agenda is so diverse that they don’t even negotiate within the same domain. Both sides spend time strengthening their respective positions. The Maoists buy time to gain strategic advantages, and they show no interest in making any conciliatory moves to a "less than powerful opponent." The government spends time building its PR with the palace, the army, and the people, and hopes to engage the Maoists in state A (negotiation) for as long as it can, but at the same time it cannot offer any new initiatives attractive enough for the rebels. From the Maoists’ point of view, it is a foot dragging and a stalemate, but from a game theoretic point of view, it is a stable state. Sensing a static gap between their positions, and with no new revenues flowing in due to suspended activities, the Maoists take a decision to break the talks. They also continue to believe that the retaliatory threat point of the government was still not credible. This is where they made a fatal error. By this time, the September 11th event had already tipped the balance of power, and had altered the nature of the bargaining game completely in favour of the government. Namely, now the government’s ability to act on its threat (army reprisal through emergency) was real and highly credible. With this new state of affair, any move from the rebels toward B would have been met in kind, landing both of them in state D. Armed with international backing in the wake of the September 11 event, the government called their bluff and decided to act on their own threat point. Further, a direct attack on the army was just a part of a new strategy for the rebels to up the ante, but it created a totally different backlash. Now this game has moved from A to a new Nash equilibrium point D, which is not necessarily a desirable solution for the country and its people, especially given the fact that the ultimate outcome - a long-run peaceful state - is still uncertain. People are losing their lives and there is no guarantee that complete peace will be achieved. Could they have played this strategic game differently to avoid D and perhaps settle for a mutually agreeable second best outcome A? Yes. The rebels, sensing a changed post September 11 world attitude towards terrorism, could have stayed in the negotiating state A by offering some alternatives (eg, asking for federalism instead of socialism; see Dec 6th TKP; What next for Deuba?), and avoid probably a complete annihilation by a now highly motivated, strong Nepal Army.

Similarly, the government could have shown a sense of generosity by starting to negotiate within the context of a common domain of give-and-take (again, by offering to allow some form of regional self-reliance mechanism –federalism or some other political concessions), knowing fully that the opponents were more interested in the political power sharing opportunities rather than the legislative laws and promises of good governance. Is there a hope to get the country out of D? Can the country benefit from a peaceful measure to avoid any future conflicts?

The answer should be yes to both questions, and a possible ten-point formula may look as follows: (1) The Maoists declare an unilateral cease fire and cease all forms of offensive. (2) They agree to work within the current framework of the constitution. (3) They immediately free all abducted civilians and government officials. (4) The Maoists drop their demand for a republic state, accept monarchy and the multiparty system of government. (5) The government in turn ceases its counter offensive. (6) The government offers a constitutional change to implement some form of federalism —a political decentralization mechanism to promote regional self-reliance or some other political concessions. (7) The Maoists renounce violence and publicly declare their respect for the constitution and agree to join the political process. (9) The rebels begin to surrender arms. (9) The government lifts emergency and provides amnesty for the rebels. (10) Within a year thereafter, a fresh election is held to move the country forward. These are some preliminary thoughts without any intended order. One may argue that the unilateral declaration of a cease fire may constitute a sign of weakness and will not generate any incentive for the government to cease its own counter offensive.

In April 1998, the British government signed the Good Friday agreement on power-sharing –despite the fact that the IRA had already declared a cease-fire. You may never know; Deuba government may feel morally obligated to act in a similar manner to restore peace and harmony in the country, so that it can focus on more important issues. After all, King Gyanendra himself has been quoted as expressing, " ...I am extremely sorry that Nepalis are fighting each other." Nevertheless, the Royal Nepal Army currently needs our utmost support, so that they can bring about peace and tranquillity to this impoverished nation of twenty-four or so millions of hardworking proud Nepalis.

Of nicknames and about nicknames

By Ritesh Shrestha

It wasn’t a regular school day yet; classroom 1 and 2 were crammed. Nope, thanks god, not for extra classes but we were waiting for our inning for the scissors to roll over our heads. The barber was a nice young lad. We thought as he would always put up a hairdo that lined up parallel with the latest hairstyle or the kind we yearned for. I had a thick silky hair and that "ashique" style simply looked gorgeous. No thanks, as our school was still a bachelor. The next day our housemaster scolded me. Order was an order. I felt miserably sad as my long hair suddenly become very short. I was shocked when the mirror said that my hair was pointing in infinite directions as if I had an electric shock. I was now boiling as Jitendra chuckled out: "hey porcupine!" You kukur gadha was my handy reply. As Suraj greeted me with the new title, I had to say you monkey. To make the matter funnier, Arbin repeated my nickname. Of course, I shouted out - you bhaesi. Then it was the turn of gai. Ashish came dashing having discovered my new name. That fat jolly pal got the usual dose - shut up you elephant. Rat, parrot, crow, boar... let me stop it here as we had lot’s of friend belonging to the animal kingdom.

It was fun back in those school days to begin any day by yelling out nicknames and being chased. But, a decade after, times have changed; not to mention our character. Don’t you think it is a bad habit of the human sapiens and an insult to the animal world to put down people by calling them with all sorts of animals’ names? For instance, the expression "dog in the manger" for a selfish person is untrue for dogs are faithful friends, and loyal. "Dogs bark but don’t bite" refers to those whom boast and don’t fulfil their promises. This proverb is once again untrue as dogs are bodyguards and have often died for their owners. Similarly, buffaloes and donkeys are considered stupid. But she buffaloes give us milk and makes many of our farming burdens cushy. We worship Hanuman as our God though we still say "monkey business" for dishonest dealings. Elephant worshipped as our Ganesh has rat as its Harley Davidson, the most despicable of creatures. Also, the boar is one of the Vishnu’s avatars. So don’t you think I have finally made a point? Humans have much to learn and respect the animal kingdom. We can be sojo as a gai, clever as a crow; blah, blah.

Finally, I’m quite perplexed as what my next nickname would be as we are shortly going to have a get-together party of all those animal pals. God, I have suddenly become bald. I guess they won’t call me - "hey talu buddy!!"

Media : On SAARC reporting

By Pratyoush Onta

In this column I wish to comment on one prominent obsession of the Nepali media at the current moment: the upcoming SAARC summit and the activities going on in Nepal in its preparation.

For understandable reasons the eleventh SAARC summit scheduled to be held in Kathmandu in early January 2002 has been one of the main reporting subjects of the Nepali media over the last month. This summit should have taken place in 1999 and has been delayed for several reasons. Since our state takes particular pleasure in playing host to events with a lot of rituality associated with them, it is no surprise that our government has been big in the promotion of the upcoming summit. As a result, media coverage has also been plentiful in terms of quantity. Almost all of our important media outlets have given prominent coverage to the summit, to the issues that are likely to find space during the summit deliberations and to some of the activities being undertaken to spruce up the host city of Kathmandu. The quality of this coverage, however, leaves a lot to be desired.

With respect to the coverage about the summit itself and the issues that are likely to be discussed, I would say that our media has been timid at best. Apart from a report or two, our reporters have filed similar stories celebrating SAARC and the upcoming summit. Many of them have quoted individuals whose careers have benefited from SAARC junkets. Some of these people were the foreign policy ideologues of the Panchayat regime, and they still seem to harbour nostalgia for times when their views went unchallenged in the Nepali public sphere. Our reporters have failed to ask these ‘experts’ the question how summit after summit, SAARC deliberates on more or less the same issues and comes up with vapid declarations that are noteworthy only for their repetitions of the commitments by the regional heads of states to a variety of subjects with no institutional innovations promised regarding how those commitments would be honoured. A rereading of the declarations made at the end of the ninth summit (Male, May 1997) and the tenth summit (Colombo, July 1998) should be adequate to make this point but I wonder how many of our journalists who have been reporting on SAARC in recent weeks have actually seen these declarations.

If they have read them, then it should have naturally occurred to them how big the institutional gap is between the pomp and rituals of the SAARC summits and the ability of the regional organization to oversee that its member countries actually execute what they commit to in the summit declarations.

Examples from two fields – media and academia – that concern me are enough to show how big this disjuncture is. SAARC and unofficial SAARC processes have promoted "cooperation and understanding" in the media sector in South Asia through dozens of workshops, meetings and seminars in the region. However, after smooth talking during such occasions, some of the most successful reporters and editors of our region go back to their newspapers and TV stations to do narrowly jingoistic stories. Nepalis have seen plenty of examples of such coverage from Indian media personnel since December 1999 (ie, after the unfortunate hijacking of the IC plane out of Kathmandu). The SAARC Audio-Visual Exchange Programme (SAVE) and sweet resolutions passed at South Asian media meets are testimonies to the disjuncture that characterizes feel-good South Asian "community" talk and the exigencies of the commercially dominated media institutions and markets in the region.

Similarly for the case of academia, the SAARC Chairs, Fellowships and Scholarships Scheme has been languishing for lack of interest in the academic institutions of the member countries. Programmes in South Asian area studies in the region could have used this scheme but institutional lethargy on the part of SAARC and the institutions that house such programmes has resulted in this scheme becoming a non-starter. This writer elaborated on this situation in a longish article almost four years ago. These are but two examples but the list could be made long.

SAARC and its celebrities would have us believe that the upcoming summit is of great consequence in the lives of the nations in the region. But the fact remains otherwise. Hence our reporters must ask questions of the SAARC process on grounds that the organization would much rather not discuss in public!

Finally, a comment about our style of preparing for the SAARC summit. The widening of roads and dismantling of residential and commercial structures at the Maitighar and Teen Kune junctions are taking place at war-footing to prepare Kathmandu for the summit. While it can be argued that these activities were necessary for the long-term aesthetic and practical health of Kathmandu, executing them at such pace was hardly necessary. The way in which residents and businesses were told to vacate their premises in Maitighar and prepare the buildings for dismantling within 15 days can only be described as a draconian order. It has been suspected that such a measure was taken when the concerned citizens did not have the legal recourse (under the government announced emergency) to challenge the order in the courts. This is hardly the way in which democratic governments ought to function.

The buildings might be flattened and parks might spring up in the two locations for the SAARC summit, but every flower blooming in those parks will have come up over a pool of tears of the concerned citizens who have lost much. Kathmandu’s aesthetic view will have become better but its institutional capacity to democratically resolve contentious issues including the use of privately or publicly owned space will have taken a beating. Nepali media should take a better look at this trade-off.