Dispatches: Report from the People's War in Nepal

Part 12: Martyrs of Rolpa

by Li Onesto

Revolutionary Worker #1028, October 31, 1999

On February 13, 1996, a new People's War was launched in Nepal, led by the Communist Party of Nepal (Maoist), aimed at sweeping away imperialism, feudalism and bureaucrat capitalism. Thousands of men and women participated in coordinated armed raids and attacks throughout the country. And for over three years now, the revolution in Nepal has continued to spread, sink roots and accomplish a lot. All this is a truly inspiring and significant development in the world and for the international proletariat. But it has remained a hidden story for most people in the United States and around the world. And for those of us who have been following the People's War in Nepal, there has been precious, but far too little news of this important struggle.

Now, the Revolutionary Worker has an exclusive story. RW reporter Li Onesto recently returned from several months in Nepal, where she traveled throughout the country with the people's army, meeting and talking with party leaders, guerrillas, activists in mass organizations and villagers--those waging this genuine Maoist People's War and beginning to exercise new people's power. The RW would like to give a "lal Salaam" (red salute) to all the people in Nepal who made this trip possible.

This is the twelfth article of a new series of dispatches from this exciting trip. (See RW #1014 through #1020, #1022-1024 and #1027 for Parts 1 through 11.)


This morning, I decide to sip my morning milk-tea outside. I walk a ways from the house to grab a few minutes of solitude to enjoy the softness of the early morning light. And I think about how much I like living in the countryside. Every day when I wake up, I feel like I've stepped into an amazing painting. The scenery here is absolutely breathtaking. And while the trekking is difficult, it is hard not to feel energized and exhilarated by the clean air and the towering mountains which encircle us. The natural beauty of the landscape almost seems inappropriate for the ugly poverty which surrounds us. But the drama of Nepal's rugged and spectacular landscape seems fitting as a haven and cover for a people's army on the move.

Today, our trek starts just before noon, and for hours, almost all of the trail is either straight up or rocky downhill. Then just as the sun starts to near the horizon, we come to a very steep mountain where there really isn't any path. We just climb directly up the mountainside--which seems to go on forever.

We are now at an elevation of about 12,000 feet and it's difficult to get enough oxygen to my lungs and muscles. I get out of breath very quickly and have to stop every 50 yards or so to catch my breath. The comrades see I'm having trouble and one of them offers to literally carry me up the mountain on his back. But I struggle and push on. We reach the top of the mountain after nightfall but the moon has taken the sun's place, so we can see pretty well. Still, the path is difficult because it is all downhill, strewn with loose rocks that seem to have an unpredictable life of their own.

Today our time on the trail is lasting longer than planned because there aren't any villages in this area. So we have to walk until we find a place where there is at least a water tap. Finally at 11 p.m. we stop and make camp at an old, abandoned cow shed. I immediately plop down on an old plank of wood. But the squad quickly sets to work. Some leave to fetch water, others go to gather tree branches and leaves for our bedding and the rest start clearing out the shed and making a fire.

Here in the western mountains it gets really windy and cold at night. So as soon as the fire gets going everyone quickly huddles around to get warm. Then we eat our dinner--crackers and instant noodles, eaten dry, right out of the package. Everyone is in a good mood, joking around, and it's past midnight by the time we lie down to sleep. The bed of leaves is actually very comfortable. But 5:15 a.m. comes quickly--when comrades wake me to get ready to go. And we are back on the trail again by 5:40 a.m.

We are now getting very close to where we will cross the border into Rukum. But before leaving Rolpa, we are scheduled to stop at one last village where people have organized a large mass meeting to greet us.

Mid-morning we come around a bend in the trail and my translator, Pravat, points way across to the other side at the mountain facing us. Nestled in the dense green are tiny spots of red. At first I'm puzzled by this decoration which doesn't look at all natural. And then I realize it is red flags, dotting the area, anticipating our arrival.

When we get to the clearing on the other side, people greet us down the hill from where the mass meeting is being prepared. I look up at the "red dots"--which are now clearly beautiful red flags waving lazily in the breeze--and I see that villagers are already starting to gather. The sun is high in the sky now and it's getting hot. So we rest under some skinny trees, maneuvering to share the meager shade. And the squad disappears into the nearby forest to change into their uniforms. I start to doze off a little, lulled by the combination of warm sun and tired muscles. But I wake up when some comrades come walking down the hill, lugging huge pots of food for our mid-day meal.

At 1:00 it is time for the program. We start walking up the hill toward the gathering place which has been decorated with all kinds of greenery and flowers. A "doorway" for our grand entrance has been constructed of tree branches. And about 20 guerrillas are lined up in formation forming a path for us up the hill. A cultural team is standing at the top, playing music as we march towards the gathering.

I am at the front of our procession and go through the entrance first. About 700 people have gathered, and as my head pokes through the doorway, they erupt into loud applause and cheers. A comrade greets me by putting the traditional Nepali red tikka on my forehead and places a garland of flowers around my neck. Then another comrade steps forward and puts a bamboo pole in my hand. The pole feels weighty and I can immediately feel its tallness. I look up and see that it's about 40 feet high--with a red hammer-and-sickle flag at the top. The comrade guides me over to the front of the crowd and, as the "chief guest," I get the honor of planting the flag in the ground to start the program. This sets off an even louder round of applause and cheers.

Like every revolutionary gathering here, this one starts off with a minute of silence for all the martyrs. And the next five hours are very inspiring. There are many statements and speeches--from different mass organizations and leading party comrades. There are reports from the battlefield. And the cultural squad entertains throughout--with their versatile repertoire of songs and dances. By the time the "chief guest" addresses the crowd, she's very moved by this mass display of support for the People's War and proletarian internationalism.

Living and Dying for the Revolution

The program ends just as the sun is setting. And I am told that several families of martyrs have come to meet with me. Some of them have traveled quite a ways to tell me their story. The first villager who sits down to talk is 57-year-old Jokhi Budha. Her husband, 65-year-old Singh Budha, her daughter, 22-year-old daughter Kumari Budha, and her son, 29-year-old Danta Budha, have all been killed by the police. She tells me:

"It happened in November of 1996. A spy in the village snitched to the police and they came to our home at night. The spies and police arrested my husband and my daughter. My husband was a sympathizer and my daughter was active in the women's organization. Both of them were taken to the police post of the village and tortured for two days. The police then took them to a stream bed and shot them with three other people--70-year-old Bardan Roka, 45-year-old Bal Prasad Roka, and 49-year-old Dil Man Roka.

"Before killing Kumari the police picked out her two eyes and then put kerosene in her hair and set it on fire. Thirteen people were arrested at this time--five were killed, the rest were released. People told me that when Kumari cried out in pain, saying, `Mommy, mommy,' the police said, `You criminal, you Maoist, you terrorist.' And then two police picked her up and threw her into the fire alive. And now my son, who was a platoon member, was killed in the recent raid on the police post in Dang, in which seven police were killed."

Jokhi is crying by the time she finishes recounting her terrible loss. And I have a hard time holding back the tears that threaten to roll down my own cheeks. Through her tears, Jokhi tells me, "Though my husband, son and daughter have died I have many thousands of sons and daughters who will take revenge."

Like other relatives of martyrs I have talked with, Jokhi seems to have a larger sense of "family"--which is why she can feel optimistic, even though she has lost her husband and two children. In traditional feudal society, a woman who has lost her husband would, in most cases, immediately face economic hardship. And older parents who lose their children usually forfeit the security of knowing someone will take care of them in their old age. But now where the People's War is strong, this is no longer the case. The party and the people's army make sure the relatives of martyrs are taken care of. Funds are collected among the masses to give to families of martyrs. They are given a share of seized land. And the children of martyrs are also taken care of by the larger revolutionary community.

Dil Man Roka was killed in the same incident with Singh Budha and Kumari Budha. When his wife, Man Maya Roka, comes to talk, it is clear that she too feels like the People's War will not only take care of her family, but provide a brighter future for the people. She says:

"The people now call our VDC (Mirul) the martyrs' VDC. The police arrested and killed my husband because of his good work. He was killed by the enemy and now the whole party is here to help me and my family. Now I am farming with the help of the neighbors and taking care of my family. At the time of his death I was four months pregnant with my last son and my other three daughters knew their father. They know the police killed their father. My point of view on the party is clear. The children's father started to dig the road and the children will finish it. And we will get victory over our enemies."

The next to sit down and talk are the parents of Chop Bahadur Dang, a 31-year-old secretary of an area in Rolpa, who was killed March 28, 1996. Chop's father tells me: "Our son had the best character. He loved all the family members and was very good to his brothers, sisters and other family members. He was a full-timer of the party for four years. Two years before the initiation he was charged with a false case and went underground. A liar in the village [who cheated peasants out of land and money by lying] was murdered and my son was falsely charged for this. The People's War is very good. It is done for the oppressed people. Our son became a martyr for this cause. We are aggressively fighting the reactionary government, we will never leave the path of People's War and we hope it will succeed as soon as possible. Though our son was martyred we are not completely helpless. Our party looks after us."

Waves of Counter-Revolution

Soon after the People's War started, the government struck back with savage cruelty. Paramilitary forces and specially trained commando forces were deployed in large numbers with direct orders from the highest offices of the central government. On February 26--less than two weeks after the initiation--in Jarang Pandrung VDC of Gorkha district, 50 armed police fired at more than a thousand unarmed school children and local peasants. The police had been trying to arrest a popular local headmaster on a fake charge of destroying the office of "Save the Children Fund, USA" and the crowd was trying to rescue him. An 11-year-old schoolboy, Dil Bahadur Ramtel, was shot dead on the spot and became the first martyr of the People's War.

The next day, on February 27, the police shot dead six peasants and students who were sleeping in a farmhouse at Melgairi, Pipal VDC in Rukum district. And after this there were a series of killings and fake encounters--incidents where the police kill people and then falsely claim it was an "armed encounter." In the first three months after the initiation, more than 30 people were killed by police--most of them in Rukum, Rolpa and Jarjakot.

In addition to shooting people, the police have carried out arrests in the thousands, tortured people in custody, gang raped women in the villages and in custody, and looted and set fire to people's homes. Because of this, thousands of people have been forced to hide in the forests and caves for months. And many people have been underground for years. In some places the government has unleashed armed local goons against the people and some villages have faced months of being under curfew.

In the first 11 months of the People's War more than 70 people were killed--while about 40 reactionaries, including local tyrants, police informers and police were eliminated. Of the revolutionary martyrs, nearly 40 percent were party members, more than 60 percent belonged to the oppressed nationalities (most of them Magars from the Western Hills), about 10 percent were women, and almost all of them were of poor or lower middle peasant class origin.

Government repression really escalated in the third year of the People's War. In one eight-month period, 500 people were killed by the police and many more were jailed, tortured, and raped.

One of the biggest operations launched by the police was Kilo Sera 2--a two-month campaign carried out from mid-June to August 1998. One comrade explained: "The government attacked every sector of the movement--arresting activists, villagers, and sympathizers. This was not random but very well-planned and used many spies to target people. Nepali Congress and RPP (Rashtriya Prajatantra Party) participated openly in this repression while the UML [Communist Party of Nepal (United Marxist Leninist)] did so in a more disguised way. Many responsible comrades, mass leaders, party leaders, regional and district committee members, people's army leaders, and sympathizers were killed. There were many massacres during Kilo Sera 2--about 200 people were killed in the western region--15 in Rolpa, 20 in Rukum, over 50 in Jarjarkot and the rest were in areas encircling this zone."

Courage under Fire

Khala K.C., a young, 23-year-old woman, was killed in 1998 during Kilo Sera 2. Her 31-year-old brother, Chitra Bahadur K.C., tells me: "My sister had been working in the revolutionary student organization since 1991. In 1995 she joined the party and became a full-timer. At the same time she took the responsibility of working in the women's organization. In 1997 she became a squad member. She was five months pregnant when she was killed. She came to the house to visit our sick father and afterwards she took shelter at another house. There were two other comrades at the house--one was her husband, also a squad member.

"The police came to the family's house and arrested our eldest brother and beat him. There were many police and they surrounded the house. None of the family could inform the people in the shelter about the police. Our eldest brother made loud noises when he was beaten and the people in the shelter heard his cries and ran away. My sister fled to hide in the cornfields but the police found her there and arrested her. They took her to the forest and beat her on the way. Then they killed her. After 23 days her dead body was found and it looked like she might have been raped."

Sharpe B.K. was 43 years old when he was killed in 1998. He left behind his wife, Rupsari B.K., four sons and one daughter. Rupsari tells me:

"Our family is a poor peasant family and my husband worked in the poor peasant organization. We are of lower caste, according to Hindu religion, `untouchable.' A spy in the village told about my husband's activities. Twelve police came to our house and arrested Sharpe. Then another 14 police came too and they all took him to the forest. I followed them, crying and begging the police to let him go. But they beat me viciously. I went back home and I heard the sound of gunshots and I thought they must have killed him. I couldn't go to the spot because I was so hurt from the beating.

"After two hours my sons and some party comrades went to the jungle and found my husband's dead body. They didn't take the body back to the village because of the heavy repression, so they left it there for 11 days, covered with stones and dried leaves. Later the people gave my husband a funeral procession and ceremony to burn his body. The police continued to threaten our family. But now the people's power has grown so the police have been forced to stop harassing our family."

I hear stories that really illustrate the point Mao makes in the "Serving the People" section of the Red Book where he says: "Wherever there is struggle there is sacrifice, and death is a common occurrence. But we have the interests of the people and the sufferings of the great majority at heart, and when we die for the people it is a worthy death." Armed with this kind of revolutionary spirit of sacrifice, many martyrs in the People's War have stood brave when the enemy tortured them to try and get information.

Nil Bahadur Oli was 21 years old. His younger brother, Purna Bahadur Oli, was only 19 years old. They were both killed in 1998. Their father, Man Bahadur Oli, tells me how his two sons remained firm in the face of death.

"Nil worked in the YCL (Young Communist League) and peasant organization. Purna also worked in the YCL. Nil was also in the process of becoming a party member. My cow shed is in Solyan and my two sons were there. After the action against the Jhimpe Communications Tower, the people's army took shelter in that cow shed. The tower was guarded by the police, 18 in all. When the guerrillas attacked the tower the police surrendered and one was killed and two were seriously injured. Eight rifles, one revolver and 780 bullets were captured. The next day police came into the area by helicopter and bus. A large number came to the tower. The police arrested one person from Solyan who knew about the action. When the police tortured him, he told them information, including how the squad had taken shelter in the cow shed. Then the police came to the cow shed and arrested my two sons and took them by helicopter, to the police post, very far away.

"The police interrogated my sons but they didn't say anything--even though they knew all about the action. They had some party documents and weapons hidden in the village but did not tell the police about these. The police tortured them for two days. When they couldn't get any information from them the police took my sons to the forest by helicopter and killed them. For five days the police stayed by the bodies, trying to ambush anyone who might come to get the bodies. Then they returned to the police post. On the sixth day the party led a funeral procession of about 100 people."

Man Bahadur Oli tells me all this with deep sadness in his voice. But it is clear he is very proud that his two sons gave their lives serving the people. As with all the families of martyrs I have talked with, what strikes me most about Man Bahadur Oli, is not so much his grief but his revolutionary strength and determination. The government may think that by brutalizing and murdering party members, guerrillas and supporters of the People's War they will be able to crush this revolution. But from what I see and hear, vicious repression has only deepened the masses' hatred for the government and made the people feel even more strongly that the only way they can be free is to overthrow the present regime. Man Bahadur tells me, "I'm looking forward now to the bright future of the People's War."

To be continued.

This article is posted in English and Spanish on Revolutionary Worker Online
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