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Kathmandu Saturday December 29, 2001 Paush 14, 2058.
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The King of the people
By Padma P Devkota
At a quarter to five on Saturday morning,
June 2, 2001, I heard for the first time the horripilating news of the royal family
massacre that had taken place the night before at Narayanhity Palace. It left a lasting
emptiness in the pit of my stomach. Shocked and bewildered, my whole family sat in front
of television waiting for the 7:05 news, which did not deliver for another six or seven
hours. In the days that followed, I experienced the torture of uninformed existence
growing more intense as the government controlled the news media, leaving us with only
CNN, BBC, and Nepal Television channel to test all rumours against. In addition to this,
the curfew took away the right to stretch my legs for a late afternoon walk. I felt
bereaved of my right to information and, above all, of a beloved monarch who insisted that
all citizens had a right to know.
The last glimpse I had of His late Majesty
King Birendra (1945-2001) left me wondering why his lips were parted as he was carried on
a bamboo stretcher towards Aryaghat. His usual, radiating smile had withered to a last
minute pain and disbelief that death could come in such an unexpected way. His beard too
seemed to have grown. This is possible even after the demise of a person. All the rest of
his body, including a large part of his forehead, was covered with a yellow shroud on
which was printed the name of God. As I watched the procession on the TV screen, I wished
someone would exhibit the royal dress up to us and count the bullet holes in it. I grieved
with the nation not only for King Birendra but also for the whole ill-fated family. My
grief was a very personal reaction to a national tragedy.
Later, I asked myself why I reacted this way
to the king’s and to the royal family’s demise. I did not know them personally.
The only communication I ever had with them was when I replied to Their Majesties King
Birendra’s and Queen Aishworya’s letter of condolence to our family on the
demise of our mother. Yet, my present feeling of deprivation could not have been just the
contagion of a national mood alone; it must also have been a slow sinking through three
decades of a royal influence into the depths of my heart, which then learnt to nurture
itself upon a feeling of security that this presence inspired. To the Nepali mind, that
which positively inspires is also divine. The royal presence in my mind was a light of
hope that all would turn out for the better despite the self-destruct mode of the nation.
To many insecure citizens, King Birendra’s charisma offered a light of hope in the
same way that the Almighty - call him Alla, Christ, or Vishu - might offer a light of hope
to a diseased, aged, or dying man. I believe this to have been the general national
sentiment.
It was wrong of me to expect people who
voiced their opinion through western television channels to see or make this connection.
To them, Nepal was just a backward and very poor country whose uneducated masses believed
that King Birendra and Lord Vishnu were literally synonymous. To them, only uneducated
people would cling on to such a medieval concept of monarchy. Though I partly concede to
such a line of reasoning, I will also assert that no person in his/her right mind would
believe in such nonsense. I feel certain that the wise and practical king himself was
never misled by such a notion.
Symbolically, however, charismatic and
inspiring leadership is worthy of reverence. Paradoxically, people expect such a leader to
be unlike them and like them at the same time. Better than they ever will be, yet a
symbolic presence among them that also represents a common will to realise a common dream.
This is true everywhere. An American president who goes to see an opera is bound to be
less popular despite his refined taste than another who goes to watch a football match
during his free hours. A Nepali monarch who does not promote a national creed is bound to
be unpopular. And, in a constitutional monarchy, the king is a greater symbol than ever
before. A symbol exists on its own right, shedding light upon the unknown. Such a symbol
nourishes on popular faith and imagination. In Nepal, this symbol has taken roots in Hindu
concepts of wise leadership.
Religion is not a fool’s practice
anywhere in the world. In fact, religion and the state have been powerful friendly-foes
even in first-world nations. Religion and politics must work together everywhere to cater
to everyday public needs. Religion is not just traditional rites and ceremonies. It is a
creed: a set of fundamental beliefs, ideas, codes of conduct, and traditional symbols
associated with a theology or belief system. It is an institution: churches, mosques, and
temples are not bricks and rods alone. They are the centres of human activities. And, it
is a society: it’s subcultures and communities of believers, it’s different ways
of life. Religion exists where human beings exist. No politics of the east or of the west,
is untouched by its power. Disputes over abortion, school prayer, pornography, etc. can
never be resolved by political interests alone.
This is why King Birendra brought politics
and religion to bear equally upon his life and vision. Ever since his ascension to the
throne on January 31, 1972, he had made it his goal to preserve the unity and the national
identity of Nepal. One cannot preserve identity without innovations. Besides fulfilling
the average responsibilities of a king, he did two things that contributed greatly both to
the political growth of the nation and to his own popularity. First, in 1978, he announced
the referendum and asked whether the people wanted a multi-party system or a party-less
Panchayati system. Second, in 1990, he announced Nepal as a democratic country after a
popular movement. The smooth political transition from a party-less Panchayati system to a
multi-party constitutional monarchy speaks of the king’s courage, his good intentions
towards the people, and his awareness of modern global trends and movements. Even after
his new status as a constitutional monarch, he continued showing a great concern in the
life of the nation.
The other side of his life also adds to his
human greatness. A king who granted audience to foreign dignitaries, as an Indian friend
of his commented on Star TV, bowed down to and touched the feet of a holy man —
Shankaracharya. This humbleness does not come to self-important power-seekers. We have
seen him attending religious rites and ceremonies, seen him visiting temples and jatras,
seen him doing things we do in our daily lives. This has brought him closer to us. He has
been seen walking on the streets of Kathmandu as if he were an ordinary pedestrian,
walking without his bodyguards and the royal regalia. We have seen him speaking to common
people with love and sympathy. We have felt his presence so deep within us that it feels
it was always there, a part of our own self.
And this feeling has become a source both of
his popularity and of our inspiration. An inspiration that builds up the national
confidence by strengthening the royal bond with the people. A confidence that speaks of
leadership. Leadership within the nation, leadership in the SAARC countries, leadership in
the South Asian region, leadership in the world. And great political personalities of the
world too have felt the light of hope that King Birendra would one day lead Nepal out of
darkness into the full daylight of democracy that would provide equal opportunities for
all. In Nepal, people very spontaneously accepted him as a symbol of hope, of security, of
justice, and of a better future. What more is religion if not a deep-rooted faith? In
fact, there is no leader in the political arena of Nepal today who can match king
Birendra’s charisma. The nation has indeed lost a beloved King and leader at a time
when it most needs him.
(This article was published on June 16,
2001)
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