If science is the wheel of fire, economics inspires the nation’s wheel, and statesmanship turns it with willpower and determination, go back to the 1960s, and you’ll find how Nepal had inaccessible rocks and plains combined with two-thirds of deep forests. They constrained systemic progress as a human body suffers without smooth blood circulation. Naturally, connectivity was the nation’s need. Rocks had to be cut and forests cleared along this component. They could combine and consolidate the nation and its people and expand global identity too. Incidentally, a leader emerged as an icebreaker. The East-West Highway was its outcome. Its mastermind was nobody but King Mahendra.

Until then, Nepal had had an open and free link with the borders of India since early times, while the northern region had no connection. Opening the north was a priority. The northern neighbour promptly responded to it with full funding. As such, the government of China worked on it as a turnkey project. Thus, the Kathmandu-Kodari highway was completed in a relatively short time.

The east-west highway could not rely wholly on internal resources alone. It stretched over 1300 kilometres, requiring something more concrete than determination and willpower. King Mahendra then appealed to the nation—individuals, institutions, industries, and traders—for voluntary donations. Astonishingly, responses poured in from various countries; the USSR, UK, and India contributed to both funding and construction. In the long run, this highway completed three missions: connectivity, new settlements, and clearing some forest areas.

Visiting Kathmandu then meant visiting Nepal, whether from the hills or Terai. In that sense, Nepal was no other place than Kathmandu. After decades, the highway had interconnected Nepali minds. All parts then took on the identity of Nepal, and Kathmandu had literally turned into the capital city. Before this, especially the western parts had difficulty in-to-in links except via the bordering Indian railways. Later, this highway was extended to include more northern points, such as Kodari.

Besides, the king had another systemic insight about city and village connectivity. This he called 'Back to the Village.' He launched this strategy, especially for the armchair bureaucrats. Instruction details were released in red-cover literature. The king believed that it would shift tides in the nation and improve people-to-people identity about history, geography, culture, and living habits. Accordingly, civil servants visited a particular village for a few nights a year. They stayed among common folks, learned, shared village life, and also performed educational work, training, or charity. In return, they had grassroots concepts for the nation’s planning. Next, the strategy also engaged villagers to work manually in the back-to-village. The hilly regions thus opened foot trails under shramadan (participation in free popular labour). A porter along such trails with a backbasket and forehead strap now felt relatively easy. Visitors trekked along these routes of pastoral Nepal and viewed seasonal and migratory birds and animals, rivers, lakes, and waterfalls. They would pass through a forest or hilly riverbank swept by the panoramic attraction of nature. Upon retirement, civil servants, bankers, traders, and landowners were happy to return to their villages rather than stay in Kathmandu.

A third such mission during Birendra’s reign was the NDS (national development services) under Tribhuvan University for master degree students. Under this, students from Kirtipur stayed for ten months in a remote village, where they taught or provided community service and got acquainted with dialects, culture, and living conditions. This duration qualified their degree. This was discarded upon the restoration of democracy. Likewise, the opponents had cursed King Mahendra too for back-to-village to say, 'The king's a loose horse following Mao Zedong’s communism!'

However, here is a moderate review of the legacy of connectivity in relation to the development and prosperity of the nation. Republicanism has equally carried on this in response. The above pictures altogether imply 'Know Nepal' in gradual transition. As such, each succeeding ruler and government scores a good point at putting the nation on the wheels of change. Simultaneously, such wheels are not static; they rather make adventures roll the nation ahead. Development always aims for continuous progress.

In pursuance, subsequent governments have extended asphalted and fair-weather roads by thousands of kilometres. Air connectivity adds to its thorough navigation. In addition, communication tools like cell phones have connected the entire nation. Food and dress habits are now common between city dwellers and villagers. Even a stranger speaks in standard vernacular.

Flipside

The wheels of prosperity keep turning, and they are dedicated. Kathmandu is now just a capital city and is like any other city or village in Nepal. However, the spectrum adds a flipside too. Evidently, Kathmandu is still a virtual Nepal. Formerly, if Kathmandu alone was Nepal, now it has evolved into a gateway to heaven from all corners of Nepal. Straightaway, villagers now prefer Kathmandu to their village because they see no jobs and opportunities. Consequently, their fields and farms are left uncultivated or deserted. The village homes are either locked or have caretakers of old age. Now, when trucks stop in a village, they transport food grains there only to return empty again. Connectivity now strictly defines being in Kathmandu, where buses drop passengers from such villages. As such, Kathmandu is overpopulated with the "exit village campaign." Is it a village-drain symptom? Awareness, education, and ambition, as such, are the issues that multiply exponentially.

During the reign of King Mahendra, the number of university graduates was a mere 6,000. Now there are over six million. On the other side, lately, governments have focused on education policy, the land system, retaining old industries, or extending new ones. Nepal is presently either indifferent or losing the capacity to control the outflow of its populations. Outflow, though, has a good side: remittances rise. But it has bad sides too: work age exits and old age exists. Back-to-village has gradually turned into an exit-village and fill-in Kathmandu campaign. Still worse is the case: after exit-village, Nepal is suffering a wonderful shock of quit-Nepal in the range of thousands a year. If she loses her population, the analogy of emptying water in a river naturally applies here. The riverbed is never truly void, as adjacent sources instantly refill the space. The nation boasts about remittances but laments the steep decline in agricultural growth and population. It all reflects an adverse economic imbalance.

Solution puzzles

The governments continue because the nation is the same. Unfortunately, connectivity, or prosperity, demands a systemic definition here. Obviously, generations of Mahendra, Birendra, and BP, the rebirth of Marx and Lenin, or the rebirth of 17000 victims of janayuddha (civil insurgency), are no longer significant. They have transitioned from one phase to another in continuity. One has to assess the current scenario. The transition to connectivity never implies quitting or exiting the nation. However, the current scenario, especially in this context, receives a very poor test score and unequivocally fails the examination. Mistakes are there or are made, but mistakes corrected with mistakes never score pass marks. The time has come to redefine prosperity. The government rather opened a debate about how remittances are destroying first the NRNs, then the nation. Take the case of earning foreign currency. It has alternative potential, too. If agriculture is unproductive due to the subdivision of land into small holding units, alternative paths are there. In one example, the rocks of Chure-Bhawar have export potential. Similarly, many more development components are there that include research, exploration, drilling, and mining. Universities better produce people like mining and metallurgical engineers. The government would rather provide equipment and budget for exploring iron, copper, and petroleum. But such action plans always require a period of gestation, like a woman’s pregnancy. These two words—gestation and pregnancy—have nine letters. They stand for nine months anticipating the tenth in patience and tolerance that the nation needs, yet with determination and willpower.

Rameshwar Baral Baral is a retired lecturer of English