The Gorkha general

Much column space was devoted to Chief of Army Staff Chhatra Man Singh Gurung’s recent visit to India. Understandably so, since the manner in which he was going to be treated was supposed to serve as a bellwether for India’s position vis-à-vis the Maoists and issues such as the integration of the two armed forces. From the evidence so far, it is likely to be a while before Prachanda and Company are rehabilitated in the eyes of the Indian establishment, and their recent outburst would hardly have endeared themselves further. But that is another story, and not the intent of this column.What went unremarked about Gurung’s visit was that this was the first time the sahibs of the Indian army were feting someone from a community that makes up a substantial proportion of Indian Gorkhas. General Gurung may have gone to India as the top Nepali soldier, but he could surely not have been unaware of how significant it was in that sense; especially not if you are a Gurung from Lamjung, which lies smack in the catchment area of Gorkha recruitment (and also if you have a brother who had served in the British army, as his official biography mentions).It must have meant something for the Indians, too. Here was a Nepali Army chief who did not have a surname that purported origins in the sands of Rajasthan and neither could he claim to be a scion of the Kathmandu elite. He was, after all, as Indian generals with Gorkha regimental backgrounds are wont to putting it, with the most genuine paternalistic warmth, a true-blooded Gorkha. For, although many other Nepali ethnicities are now represented in the Indian forces, Gurungs, together with Magars, Rais and Limbus, probably still form the bulk of Gorkhas.There is the possibility that this aspect was not commented upon because the political dimension of Gurung’s trip was much more relevant in terms of news. But for no one to even mention its historicity for reasons mentioned above can only point to plain ignorance among mainstream journalists. It is not their fault though since the Nepali state has ensured that the service of Nepalis in the British and Indian armies is not part of the national consciousness. When I was at school in the 1970s, I cannot remember a single reference to it in any of the textbooks I read, and I do not suppose the situation is any different now. There are, of course, those before us who studied the Paras Mani Pradhan textbooks then in use in Nepal and learnt about the exploits of Jamadar Gaje Ghale, VC, but that ended with the nation-building project of King Mahendra and the concurrent indigenisation of school texts.The whitewashing of Nepal’s lahure history has been quite thorough. The ‘VC’ tagged to Gaje Ghale’s name is a matter of pride to the whole lahure community but it means little to most other Nepalis. As a matter of fact, there are two different understandings in Nepal of why Gorkhalis/ Gurkhas/Gorkhas/ Nepalis have a name as brave soldiers. For most of the lahure community (and, arguably, also the rest of the world), it is by virtue of their demonstration of courage in battles for the British and receipt of 13 Victoria Crosses, and which have been detailed in numerous books, generally by their own British officers. For the non-lahure groups, however, it is because of, among others, Bal Bhadra Kunwar’s steadfast defence of the fort at Nalapani against the British, which forms part of what historian Pratyoush Onta has described as the propagation of bir history, imputing Nepal’s existence to the bravery of Nepali heroes. As many will no doubt remember, the version of the Nalapani story we studied in school did not even explicitly state who won that battle. And, it certainly did not mention that Bal Bhadra was one of the ‘original’ lahures in that he went on to Lahore after his defeat at Nalapani to fight under Ranjit Singh, and died in battle there.It is indeed a grave travesty that lahures should not find any place in the official imagination of Nepali historical and social life. It is all the more jarring considering the important contribution of lahures in the development of what currently passes for the Nepali ethos, including their role in the spread of the Nepali language all over Nepal and beyond. It took someone as perceptive as B.P. Koirala to write a story of the lahure. But, with a few exceptions, the treatment of the place of lahures in the Nepali cultural landscape has been quite cavalier, and when they do appear they are often victims of stereotyping.Since 1990, however, lahures have become more visible in the media if only because of the still-ongoing struggle of the British Gurkhas for equal pay and pensions and associated stories such as the flight of capital from towns such as Dharan and Pokhara. Thus, it was that the recent concession by the British government to allow all ex-Gurkhas residency rights in the U.K. made headline news in Nepal. And, when, soon afterwards, the architect of that victory, British actor Joanna Lumley, came to Nepal on a triumphal tour, she received access to the highest offices in Nepal. Having already consorted with the high and mighty in London (her actions on behalf of the Gurkhas was even the subject of debate in the British parliament), it probably was all in a day’s work for her, but one just wonders if those high-profile meetings were out of appreciation for what she was able to achieve for a group of Nepalis, or was it because it just seemed politic to meet her and earn some brownie points with the lahure community. I hope it is the former, but I cannot but suspect that it was not the case.