Nepal: Royalties for the King

Nepal’s King Mahendra is a poet, tiger hunter and consummate wheeler-dealer. As monarch of a mile-high, land locked nation, one of whose principal exports is the steely little Gurkha soldier, Mahendra labors not only to hold his throne but also to keep his little kingdom from the jaws of its giant neighbors, Red China and India. He does this so successfully that, far from becoming a tasty morsel for its neigh bors, Nepal has wheedled all manner of goodies from both— not to mention the U.S. and Russia.

Last week the King was wheeling and dealing in style. It began one morning in the ornate state hall of Singha Durbar, where Nepalese and Chinese officials signed an agreement by which Peking will build two warehouses and a brick-and-tile factory for Nepal. That afternoon, wearing his habitual dark glasses, Mahendra and his pretty, petite Queen Ratna attended the formal inauguration of a U.S.-financed, 26-mile aerial cableway that will bring freight and food from the Indian border across the Mahabharat Mountains to the capital city of Katmandu.

New Market. Next day, King and Queen boarded their Soviet helicopter, were flown by the Russian crew to Paanchkhal to inspect the 70-mile road being built by Red Chinese engineers from Katmandu to the Tibetan border town of Kodari, where it connects with another highway leading to Lhasa, the Tibetan capital. Thousands of Nepalese workers using picks, shovels and crow bars are carving the road from the sheer slopes of mist-hung mountain passes. Chinese instructors patiently show the Nepalese how to operate rock drills while other Chinese clear away rocks and dirt with bulldozers; still others are busily surveying and mapping every hill and valley in a country ideally suited to guerrilla war.

Mahendra and his officials hope that when the road is completed at year’s end it will open a new market to the north for Nepal’s surplus food, thus ending the country’s dependence on In dia for virtually all its industrial imports. When it was pointed out that the road will also enable the Red Chinese to penetrate the heart of Nepal, Mahendra airily replied: “Communism does not travel by taxi.” In fact, as Nepalese officials readily admit, China can simply walk into their country any time it chooses.

Invented Word. Back in his capital, Mahendra heard reports on negotiations with the Soviet Union for a sugar mill, cigarette factory and hydroelectric plant. At week’s end, he flew to Bhaisalotan in India’s Bihar state for the dedication of the Indian-financed, $109 million Gandak hydroelectric project, which will provide his kingdom with power and irrigation and will eventually be handed over to Nepal.

For the first time since he suffered a stroke last January, Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru left New Delhi and flew to Gandak to meet Mahendra, who is still more fearful of the Indian giant than the Chinese. As late as 1962, Nehru looked the other way while Indian-based Nepalese exiles staged guerrilla raids against Mahendra’s kingdom. It took the Himalayan war with Red China to awaken Nehru to the danger in the north. Since then, India has not only restrained Nepalese guerrillas but has also pledged $18.4 million—far more than Peking has given—for Mahendra’s current three-year plan.

At Gandak, Mahendra made it clear that he intends to be treated as an equal and not a dependent. He told Nehru and a crowd of 100,000 Indians that friendship “on the basis of parity” can only be “mutually beneficial.” Next week King Mahendra plans to make a state visit to West Germany, which is discussing several possible aid projects for Nepal; on his way home, he will stop off in Pakistan for talks with President Ayub Khan. Mahendra, who calls his policy one of strict nonalignment, claims that his Foreign Minister Tulsi Giri actually invented the word. Be that as it may, few other nations have made it pay such handsome royalties.