Student activism in Nepal is becoming increasingly chaotic, especially at Tribhuvan University. Recent reports show students clashing with university authorities, highlighting a growing complexity in campus politics. If the goal is to promote open discussions in Nepal’s Federal Republic, creating a welcoming atmosphere on campus is crucial. However, actions that hinder this environment can lead to a frustrating cycle—much like the concept described in Joseph Heller’s book, Catch-22.
As a supporter of parliamentary democracy, I want to see the Nepali Parliament function effectively. Yet, it often seems mired in challenges that prevent timely discussions on essential legislation, such as budget proposals. Unfortunately, politicking has become an effort to appease leaders rather than serve democratic ideals. Unlike other nations where Parliament can be a lively space for emotional expression, here, it often feels stunted.
Recently, during a discussion among educators, a poignant question arose: what role should teachers play in this political landscape? I’ve spent over 50 years in education and seen numerous political changes. From my experience, teachers have ambivalently influenced student political engagement—sometimes encouraging activism, other times stifling it.
When I began my teaching career, tensions in Nepal were high. The political landscape was dominated by King Mahendra’s regime, which suppressed open political activity. Many prominent leaders were imprisoned, forcing activism underground. While teachers at that time largely focused on delivering curriculum, students felt compelled to fill the political void by forming unions and supporting banned parties.
Teachers in the humanities, social sciences, and even sciences often didn’t take a stand politically. They taught theories but rarely pushed students toward political action. Some of the well-known academics of the time authored texts that aimed to promote a particular perspective of Nepali identity and history, but few challenged the status quo directly.
During the autocratic Panchayat era, education felt disconnected from political realities. Theories, whether on Marxism or cultural studies, were discussed, but debates around these ideas did not significantly shape student thinking. This resulted in a peculiar form of indifference; as long as discussions didn’t threaten the regime, learners had some freedom in their studies.
Today, while students can freely discuss and engage in politics, there seems to be a paradox. Many turn political opportunities into personal gains, often sidelining the real issues facing the public. Recent data highlights that around 70% of Nepalis feel disillusioned with the political system, believing it serves the elite rather than the community.
I still teach graduate research classes at Kirtipur University, invited back by former students. Yet, I’m concerned. The campus feels constricted; physical space is encroached upon, and faculty and students alike are distracted by petty politics. The vibrant academic environment I once knew seems to be fading.
In summary, student activism in Nepal has evolved but continues to grapple with deep-rooted challenges. The intertwining of education and politics remains complex, and a shift toward constructive engagement is needed for real progress to occur. Understanding this dynamic can empower both students and educators to navigate the current political landscape more effectively.