Politics over elderly allowance

By Thaneshwor Chalise

The provision of elderly allowance dates back to 1994 when the late prime minister Manmohan Adhikari initiated it as a form of social security. Since then, the stipend has been increased by successive governments.
Adhikari’s signature move was seen as an effort to ensure the safety and healthy life of people aged 70 or above. Criticised by some then as a populist measure aimed at appeasing voters, this initiative set a new course for welfare-centric policy-making for other governments as well.
Even as the CPN-UML was credited for the innovative policy, other parties were unable to discontinue with the distribution of resources fearing public backlash. As politics saw massive transformation by way of popular revolt, the provision deflected from protection for vulnerable groups to a propaganda tool for one or more political parties.
The recent decision of the Sher Bahadur Deuba government to lower the age bar may be interpreted as the Nepali Congress president’s desperate bid to outdo communist governments in distributive policies. This write-up probes if the action is accidental or intentional with recent political fluctuations as the backdrop.
Presumably, Nepal’s political climate saw a drastic change in the aftermath of the 2006 people’s movement. The people power compelled the parties and their actors to put popular aspirations at the core of their activities. The rise in political awareness among the populace, caused mainly by the Maoist movement, shone light on politicians’ double standard. A new wave of awareness that swept the nation scrutinised every government and the party, holding them accountable to the citizens. Evidently, newly-formed parties such as the Bibeksheel Sajha and the Naya Shakti attracted youth and agitated groups at least momentarily.
Nepalis trusted major parties NC, UML and the CPN (Maoist Centre) to make transitional arrangements and elect the Constituent Assembly to write a constitution enshrining the momentous political changes. As the transition prolonged, the parties became increasingly intolerant of each other and their priorities, leading to the collapse of the first CA.
Even after the constitution was promulgated, urgently in the post-earthquake scenario, the polity was not trouble-free. While India had voiced opposition to the hasty process, protests were raging in the plains in particular calling for inclusive provisions in the charter. There was also disunity among the major parties. The process to install a new administration began with the UML’s outrage against the late prime minister Sushil Koirala’s reluctance to step down in favour of KP Sharma Oli.
With his nationalistic posture in the face of India’s economic blockade, Oli gained popularity among the cadre and the people. In the meantime, Deuba took over the Congress reins in the general election held after Sushil Koirala’s demise. Between these two forces, Maoist Chairman Pushpa Kamal Dahal emerged as the kingmaker, often switching sides to form or topple governments.
After forming a coalition with the Congress, Prachanda gained popularity with reduction in power outage hours during his premiership and successful conduct of the first phase of local level elections.
Deuba’s government earned a bagful of public scorn for his arrogance during an interview with the BBC Sajha Sawal, his biggest Council of Ministers ever, inadequate response as incessant rains flooded the Tarai last monsoon, his remarks during an official visit to India, impeachment motion against then chief justice Shusila Karki whose fairness and loyalty had drawn commoner’s applause, reluctance to speak up against anti-corruption agency chief Lokman Singh Karki’s reign of terror and blatant violation of the election code of conduct.
With the left alliance of the UML and the Maoists sweeping the federal and provincial elections, Deuba’s has become a caretaker government. Accidental or intentional, Deuba and the party were defeated so summarily that they seem to have left nothing more to lose. This state of nihility probably prompted Deuba’s team to take recourse to populist announcements of lowering the age for social security allowance and declaring those killed during the decade-long insurgency as martyrs.
The UML used the allowance as a tool to grab people’s attention ahead of elections, by promising to increase the pay manifold if the left alliance emerged victorious. The party’s agenda of doubling elderly allowance was backed by its plan to increase national per capita income with investments and expansion of domestic industries and other economic schemes.
Tragically, Deuba’s declaration to accept 65 years as the age for elderly pay seems superfluous. While some economists prophesised an economic downfall as a repercussion of the new decision, other sections of people preoccupied with hard-line views have foolhardily cheered it up as a gesture of political revenge.
Practical analysis posits that decreasing the age bar has put the country on the verge of a fiscal crisis. These difficulties created by the new decision could lead one to view the fresh age criterion as an ideological instrument of dissimulation that entices targeted groups. At the same time, the measures add fire to the fuel in complicating the economic outlook for the incoming government with a false hope of making the left alliance crumble under its weight.
By and large, a study of parties’ policies reveals a plain fact that their programmes are often devoid of moral intention. The tug of war on the allowance says so at least. If the parties were to redeem their image, they must rise above their petty interests for the sake of national prosperity and sovereignty.
The culture of healthy competition and moral politics should prevail if Nepal is to succeed in the federal republican era.
Chalise has an MA in English literature