Cultural Cuts: Nepal’s Failed Nationalisation of the Guthi Sansnathan

Nov 2

Nov 2 Cultural Cuts: Nepal’s Failed Nationalisation of the Guthi Sansnathan

When examining the lasting implications of recent mass protests, it is unlikely that the streets of Maitighar Mandala immediately spring to mind as a hub of successful cultural activism. Unlike the student protests of Hong Kong or the waves of activism across Chile, Nepal’s Guthi protests in 2019 have largely been ignored by western media sources, relegating the injustice faced by the Newar community to the margins of back-page opinion pieces.

While some might (correctly) argue that this is due to Nepal’s limited scope on the world stage or suggest that the unprecedented violence of contemporary protests in Hong Kong eclipsed those of the Guthi, the contemporary relevance of these demonstrations should nonetheless be reconsidered. The lessons taught by the Guthi protests have gained new significance in the light of the pandemic-induced funding crises for the UK’s cultural heritage sector.

So what was the controversial “Guthi Bill” that sparked these mass protests, and why have they remained relevant in the year following?

First, it is vital to contextualise the role and cultural relevance of a Guthi within Nepalese society. Guthis can trace their origins to the fifth century, when communities began to cultivate pooled lands to generate public revenue. These funds were later utilised support of religious sites, artistic performances, and forms of public infrastructure. Though not formally recognised by the Nepalese government, the communally organised hierarchies were passed down from generation to generation by the agrarian Newar community. However, in 1964, the state removed local protections of these practices and passed the ownership of Guthi lands to a government-run corporation known as the Sansnathan. By leasing former Guthi-owned lands to the public, the Sansnathan in turn provided a small stipend for the Guthi community to maintain temples, rituals, artistic performances, and communal festivals.

Due to this unprecedented nationalisation, the Newar community has consistently faced disenfranchisement by the government-managed Sansnathan. In addition to nationalising communally owned lands, the Sansnathan have refused to increase their annual stipend since the 1960's, often leaving the Guthis to foot the bill for the upkeep of religious sites and organisation of cultural performances. This has significantly affected the capabilities of the Guthi to ensure cultural heritage practices are maintained. While the Sansnathan is pocketing funds from the increasing rent rates, cultural heritage practices are vanishing due to an increased lack of funding. As reported by the Kathmandu Post, “Most other masked dances that were alive until the early ’90s in various communities no longer exist, and those that do hold precarious positions, uncertain if they will last until next year.”

In mid-2019, the Nepalese government again attempted to shift the precarious balance of power. The controversial ‘Guthi Bill’ revoked the powers of the Sansnathan, instead transferring full ownership of Guthi lands and heritage sites to the government itself. This move for nationalisation spelled disaster for the Newars- the proposal revoked even the minimal stipend provided by Sansnathan, instituting a unelected commission to regulate all decisions relating to the Guthi. The Guthi bill also left the full financial burden of maintaining heritage sites such as shrines upon the local community. More concerningly, it prevented the indigenous Newars from claiming ownership and revenues from their religious sites and regulated the locations in which the Guthis could practice their rituals.

This final theft of public land pressed the Newar community into action. Public outcry was immediate, with as many as fifty thousand Nepalese protesters crowding the streets of Maitighar Mandala in demonstration against the legislation. Within the first twenty-four hours, protesters were dispersed forcibly with water cannons and batons by armed police. Local papers predicting the following week would result in additional violence and complete governmental silence- a symbol rejection of the demonstrators themselves.

In a strange turn of events, the Nepalese government turned face within the following days, ultimately cededing to the protesters’ demands. At a press conference the following Tuesday, Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli formally scrapped the proposed Guthi bill, returning full authority over the Guthi lands to the Guthi Sansthan. The protesters had purchased a narrow victory. By aligning themselves with the Hindi Sansnathan (a government managed Hindi sub-sect within the Kathmandu Valley), the Guthi managed to drive the government to action by stoking concerns over widespread unrest and public violence.

However, though temporarily abandoned, the bill was not wholly forgotten. With the global economic crisis induced by the Covid-19 pandemic, the threat of Guthi nationalisation has once again arisen. As protesters are unable to leave their homes, the State Assembly has yet again introduced suggested adaptations to the financial structure of the Guthi Sansnathan. Growing unrest emphasises the potential public backlash against what has been seen as another quiet attempt to occupy and draw revenues from Guthi land. As articulated by the original Guthi Bill, opportunities to gather more revenue often supersede Nepalese commitment to protecting human rights and cultural heritage. As Nepal struggles in the wake of the Covid-19 pandemic, the Guthi lands seem almost too tempting to a country which ordinarily gathers up to 25% of its revenue from international remittances. By liquidising the lands of the Guthi Sansnathan (or indeed the Hindi Sansnathan), the government might purchase months of economic stability, making this temporary abuse of power a seemingly attractive alternative to destitution.

Nor are such cultural cuts entirely isolated to Nepal. Over the last few months, organisations such as UNESCO have battled in vain to prevent nations on the brink of poverty from slashing the budgets of heritage protection programmes. As the UK faces internal conflict over defunding cultural heritage projects and artistic endeavours (seen primarily within sectors which already draw upon national support), it is clear to see that the abuses exemplified by the Guthi Bill are to be avoided at all costs. While Nepal’s Guthi protests, unlike those in Hong Kong, did not result in significant violence, they did illustrate that the elimination of cultural autonomy is an active abuse of human rights. With the nascent threat of Guthi nationalisation again rearing its head, the streets of Maitighar Mandala will not remain empty for long.