| ashu |
Posted
on 18-Mar-01 12:25 PM
What follows is taken from today's (Sunday's Kathmandu
Post). This long, but quite interesting.
Fr. Charlie Law, a physics teacher at St.
Xavier's School for many, many years in the '70s,
and the '80s, helps run St. Xavier's Campus in
Maiti Ghar these days.
A regular visitor to Martin Chautari, Fr. Law
speaks good Nepali, and has spent some years
teaching in Falebas in Dhaulagiri Znchal.
I like this article, especially the point
about being confident about one's abilities
no matter how great the obstacles.
Enjoy,
oohi
ashu
****************************
Psychoanalysis of Nepal’s development problem
By Fr Charlie Law
This article is a shortened form of a longer analysis. Further proofs of the points could be given. So
please, look at the conclusions and judge for yourself.
My aim is to show that Nepal’s economic and social problems really rest on a psychological problem.
Much of my thought about this became crystallized when I read How People Change by Allen Wheelis.
A reviewer calls this book an "Analysis of analysis and therapy." Wheelis has two ingredients for
personal change: first, one must want to change; second, the person must understand his/her
psychological background.
The author, although a successful writer and teacher, had strange bouts of terrible and inordinate
shyness. He might before an important lecture ask his wife to read his paper, pleading sickness. Or he
might suddenly have to flee two acquaintances. Or he might panic before undertaking anything creative.
He would suddenly feel that the process would be too painful, too prolonged, too unsettling.
The author wanted to change. But at first he couldn’t. Finally, in analysis, he went back to one summer
vacation time. It started when he brought his report card in to show his father. His father was in the last
stages of a terminal illness. The father saw one slightly low grade, in "Character". On being asked why
he received this reprimand, Allen Wheelis said that he sometimes talked in class. His father became
very stern and asked, "Can’t you keep your tongue in your head like a sensible fellow."
The next day, his father gave him the job of cutting their lawn. This work would act as a small
punishment. He could not play with other boys until the jobs was finished. Allen thought he could finish
in a few days. But the work lasted almost the whole of the three month vacation. The boy was not to do
the job in a slipshod way with a lawn mower. He was to do it precisely. He used a very small knife! He
almost cut every blade of grass separately.
Once or twice Allen got angry, but his father made him feel extremely guilty with the words, "I’m only
doing this for your own good." Finally the task was completed. But Allen never again regained complete
cheerfulness. He went to the ball field to play. But he remained outside the crowd. He was beginning to
internalize his fear of "not talking too much." Next semester he obtained a perfect grade in "character."
He simply remained in his cocoon. He never once talked in class!
Wheelis’s point is this: he wanted to change. But he couldn’t until he realize the full import of that
summer in his life. He had to realize that somehow he always remained subdued beneath his father’s
gaze. He had to fight against the psychological effect of that summer the rest of his life.
First we must recognize the problem. I think to some extent the "haves" and the "have-nots" don’t fully
understand our social and economic problem. The haves blind themselves because through hard work
and creativity, they have reached an interesting and comfortable life. A friend of mine said, "The
Americans have enjoyed an exciting life for years. Why shouldn’t we have our run for it?"
The have-nots really don’t see their plight. Our people can suffer. They make courageous soldiers. They
can endure cold, heat, jungle, winter, long marches, short rations of food. Or perhaps malnutrition has
dulled their brains. The women suffer the most. But female virtue—or vice!—dictates that they suffer for
the family without complaint.
We can dislike their methods, but the Maoist crisis has centered our focus upon the unjust treatment of
the poor. This crisis acts like a migraine headache. A man can overlook his psychological needs. But
ulcers or migraine headaches can make him go to the psychiatrist.
To show the extent of the problem, let me quote from Human Development in South Asia—1999. It
remains one of the more reputable surveys. I chose this report because the director, Dr Mahhub ul Haq,
is a Pakistani. So I suspect his view would be neutral as far as Nepal. For the seven SAARC countries,
this report gives some "Basic Human Development Indicators":
Nepal has the lowest literacy rate of all the seven SAARC countries.
Nepal has the lowest female literacy rate.
Nepal is the second or third lowest as far as infant mortality, underweight children, daily calorie supply.
Nepal is the lowest as far as access to safe drinking water and proper sanitation.
The writers of this report clinch their argument with the fact: other indicators show that South Asia itself
lags behind the rest of the developing world.
In South Asia, 41 per cent of the people live in poverty (living on $1.00 a day or less), whereas about 23
per cent of the rest of the developing world live in poverty.
In South Asia, 51 per cent of the adults are illiterate, whereas about 20 per cent of the adults are
illiterate in the rest of the developing world.
In South Asia, about 50 per cent of the children are malnourished, whereas about 20 per cent of the
children are malnourished in the rest of the developing world. According to this report, 47 per cent of the
children of Nepal are malnourished.
So Nepal rests at the bottom of the SAARC countries. The SAARC countries rest at the bottom of not
the world, but of the developing world. The human misery is immense. I propose that an answer to this
lies in a psychoanalysis of our political and economic structures.
Dr Haq gives as the root cause: poor governance. He sites the following problems: powerful ruling
personalities with weak institutions dominate the scene; democracy begins and ends with the ballot
box; after elections the people lose their representation. Corruption has become endemic. "Fighting
corruption in South Asia has become a rhetorical, rather than an actual, priority."
In the report, Dr Haq and his collaborators state that the problem does not just touch a few top officials.
It is widespread. My thesis goes beyond this. I think that "poor governance" or mismanagement goes
into the heart of the entire culture.
In my longer analysis, I went into examples of other countries and their psychological hang-ups. For
instance, deep in the subconscious of male Americans is the cowboy hero. The cowboy divided his
world into friends and enemies. So I think for the male of the United States: one cannot remain neutral.
Also, the last scene in a cowboy saga is often the shoot-out. The good guy stands at one end of the
street; the bad guy at the other end. The hero cannot back down. This myth instills courage in the
young American boy. But someday it may lead to a fearful war which incinerates the world! For you
cannot back down!
Turning to Nepal, we often read in the newspapers about injustice and corruption. People sometimes
throw up their hands in despair: " What can be done." So, to me, our problems rest on a neurosis. We
need deeper analysis.
I say "possible" psychological blocks because I don’t feel myself competent to speak with absolute
certainty. Only a born Nepalese can do that. But perhaps what I say will help.
Just recently, I received an e-mail. The caption states: Nepal Loses World Cup Qualifying Tournament in
Power Struggle. "Really it is not a power struggle but a political inter-brother rivalry. Because of this
no-win rivalry, the World Cup Preliminary Tournament will not be held here. My question is this: our
people love politics, but politics often ends in disaster. Just think of the Gorkha League in Darjeeling,
the Bhutanese refugees. Some refugees told me: "Our leaders led us wrongly."
Often I find in education that the traditional way remains the best. New creative ventures get squashed. I
believe that Nepali people can be creative. But often they are fighting the uphill slippery road against
tradition.
I am not speaking about anger between enemies, or even between friends. The author I mentioned, Allen
Wheelis, gave me this insight. He speaks about the anger of a great artist. He strides across the stage.
He radiates confidence. He knows his piece simply must be listened to. He defies the audience to stop
him. Often I notice an almost apologetic air in
Nepali artists. They seem to want to excuse their piece as "not so good, but please be kind."
This attitude hampers the presentation. The artist does not throw himself/herself with abandon into the piece.
The artist wants to escape from full responsibility.
As in all the above possibilities, I think a real mass psychoanalysis could be done with Dor Bahadur
Bista’s theme, Fatalism and Development. When the book first appeared, we had either complete
acceptance or total denial. I think a much greater penetration and analysis would prove profitable.
I found in the village that if there were two ways to the top of the ridge, the people took the straight up
way. Perhaps this criticism is simply that I cannot walk hills the way our true Nepalese can! But I think
it is more. I find people looking for the easy way.
When I first came to Nepal, I read many children’s stories to learn the language. I was surprised at how
many of these children’s tales involved trickery. The whole animal kingdom pitted itself, one against the
other. Or in a struggle like the European Darwin’s "Bloody, dog-eat-dog, struggle for existence" But in a
battle of who can out trick the other.
In the village I noticed the politicians walking. They went in single file. The top man first and then down
the line to the last fellow hanging his head. Women always walk behind men. This subordination is
shown in the Nepalese language itself. I give one example.
In English there remains only one form of "you". The "thou" dropped out of the language, except in
ancient forms of prayer. But in Nepali there are three "You" forms, timi, tan, and tapain. If you think
about it, "timi" and "tan" fit into the normal grammatical construction. But the honorific "You go", or
"tapain janu huncha," is a truly different construction.
I asked a Nepalese linguist about this. He agreed with me. He said that one would have to go back to
Bhanu Bhakta to find perhaps the origin of this honorific "you". That is as far as I ever got. But my
question is this: in a democracy all people are equal : one person, one vote. I think this egalitarianism is
mirrored in the day to day language. Psychologists say that our thought patterns affect our language. In
turn, our language affects our thought patterns.
Word over action. This characteristic also came to me as I read Fatalism and Development. Often at
meetings, it seems to me that what we say and even how we say it, is more important than what we
actually accomplished.
Often foreigners say to me, "He said he would come, but he never showed up." I tell them that in the
European culture, it is insulting to say one thing and act in another way. The action determines the
insult. Also westerners stress the truth in action. For a Nepali, truth lies in the hierarchy of persons.
You are an important person. So the true Nepali does not want to insult you with the words: "I won’t
honour your invitation."
Finally, if anyone reads my words and thinks I am giving the complete answer, they misread my intent. I
only want to suggest paths to explore. I would be ready to retract any of the above negative
characteristics.
I am only convinced of one thing. True development hangs on an inner psychological understanding of
the genius of our people. My fear now is this. The positive virtues have always won out over the negative.
Positive virtues have always saved the country. Virtues like these: True fraternal solidarity. Deep
sympathy for the needy. Courage when pushed to the wall. A common sense approach in time of crisis.
We now face perhaps the most serious crisis of modern Nepal. Have the positive virtues eroded ? So
eroded that we cannot face this last test ?
For me, the Maoist problem acts like a severe migraine headache. Migraine headaches make the
person aware of his serious neurotic inner disturbance. I believe we have to go to the psychological
roots of the problems we read about in our newspapers everyday.
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