Nepali women in war: Conflicted legacies

Like every other professional arena, soldiering has been a domain of men since time immemorial, with a few exceptions. Before the Maoist war from 1996 onwards, the battle of Nalapani was the only example in Nepali history where women fought. The presence of women in a battlefield was considered inauspicious, and to follow a female leader meant certain failure. But all that changed in the decade-long civil war. Women made up 40 percent of the rebel army. Suddenly, women were stepping out of their traditional, housebound duties and exploring new frontiers.

How did their decade-long experience in the field shape their lives?

“Initially, women were attracted to the war because it gave them a sense of identity beyond being ‘means of entertainment’ or ‘baby producing machines,” says Amrita Thapa, Central Committee Member of CPN-Maoist. One of them was economic identity. Before the war, though women’s labour had a very important part in agriculture, they had little or no say in how the produce of their labor was used, and most often were not involved in the decisions about the gains. But during the war, women farmed and give some parts of what they produced to the party as levy.

Neeta Gautam, a health worker during the war, remembers that even if it was just a single egg, they were proud of their contribution. It gave them the feeling that they were not reduced to the four corners of a house, that they were full-fledged persons who could contribute to society.

“It’s said that a woman can’t be an expert on the world,” says Neeta. “That may be true for a lone woman.” But when women got together and shared ideas, they learnt to analyze their situations. They realized how they were discriminated against in society.

This inspired a feeling of revenge in many women, and subsequently the desire to join the Maoist militia. They chose combat rather than administrative or organizational positions, because they believed they could get their revenge that way. “They took up guns with pride,” recounts Jaypuri Gharti, Central Committee Member of CPN-Maoist, who has been in politics for more than twenty years.

Nepal’s deeply ingrained gender bias reached into soldiering, and beliefs such as “if a woman touches a gun, it won’t not explode” were stringently upheld. In 1996, Dilmaya Yonjan broke this myth by successfully firing a gun. Women were not even supposed to be on the battlefield, but these women not only went into battle but led assaults and won. Devi Khadka, a war veteran and former CA member, remembers that many times it was women opened fire, breaking the myth that battles initiated by women are lost causes.

But still, every new step continued to be an uphill task. Even after women proved themselves in battle, they were not detailed for ambushes. Ambushes are dangerous because you have to set a trap, attack the enemy, defend your team, and make a successful retreat. Women were not entrusted it. But the Maoist women cadre protested and finally carried out a successful ambush in Morang.

Today, most of these women warriors have abandoned violent means and returned to peaceful ways. But their brief stint with the gun has left them deeply changed. Having broken many boundaries, they now believe they can do anything if given the opportunity. Previously, the only women who became politicians were those who had a husband or father in politics. But after holding leadership positions during and after the conflict, women believe an ordinary Nepali woman can become a leader and bring about change.

Many things have certainly changed. Jaypuri looks back fondly upon the cultural and religious barriers women broke during the war. They initiated movements against women not being allowed to wear pants, to have short hair, to eat before men, and many other such things that may sound insignificant but were important to women’s freedom and mobility. Later, they graduated to protesting social ills like alcoholism, domestic violence on women, Chhaupadi, restriction on dressing for widows, etc.

And these are changes that are here to stay, even in the most rural parts of the country.

“These problems haven’t been solved completely,” says Jaypuri. “But we brought these issues out into the open and made it acceptable for women to talk about them.”

Perhaps the most lasting legacy these women have brought back is political awareness. Amrita remembers the political coaching given to women who came in to vent their frustrations about discrimination. They were taught what a state is, what its duties are, what their rights are, what role social structure played in discriminations, and how they could change things through political activity. This knowledge, coupled with their successful economic activities during the war, has given many women the self-assurance to speak up for themselves and take initiatives.

“The difference is qualitative, not quantitative,” says Kamala Rokka, one of the first female guerrillas, who was Minister for Youth and Sports in 2011. “The centuries-old patriarchal system took a blow.” The tremendous rise in women’s political awareness and activity across the nation speaks for itself.

The war veterans are also proud of the legislative leaps that the nation has taken after the war, like the provision of citizenships through mothers, equal rights to property for sons and daughters, and presence of women in the country’s infantry. “Female leaders of other parties have told us that our movement made it easier for them to discuss gender issues within their parties too,” says Kamala.

And yet, it is their changed consciousness that has become a problem for some war veterans in their second innings in society. They have changed in the ten years they have been away from society, but the society has not. These women have fought in battles, led guerrilla groups and organizations, broken gender stereotypes. They have explored their capacities and discovered leadership potential. But now they are expected to go back to their old duties.

“During the People’s War, men and women were treated equally,” remembers Onsari Gharti, a commissar during the war and the newly elected Vice Chairperson to the CA. “Can you now turn around and tell the woman that she must be submissive, and expect her to obey?”

Many of these women are depressed as their dreams have not come true. Women still are not strong economically, educationally, or politically. This has left them struggling with inferiority complex and disillusionment with the leadership. Jaypuri feels their situation is akin to being raised to the skies and falling back to the ground with a thud.

Onsari believes this is because our society is in transition. It has not left its old structure behind, nor fully embraced a new structure. She believes women will not be able to fully explore their potential unless these changes are institutionalized.

Reflecting on the changes brought about by violence, Jaypuri agrees that the gun is not the only way to change society, but insists it would have taken decades for similar changes to come through peaceful ways.

So long as the conflict manifests traumatic repercussions, the debate on whether or not it was right will continue. But there is no doubt about the conscious and aware women it produced: a by-product that perhaps few had imagined. Their consciousness came through active participation in war.

But how long will it last? With the end of the conflict, will this consciousness end, too? These women, at least, believe they will pass it on to the next generation.

“I used to be afraid to speak up in front of my father,” says Onsari. “Many women still don’t speak in front of their husbands. But my daughter won’t be afraid to speak to anyone!”

Published in Republica, March 7, page 11