Avalanche pressures Shah reform agenda in Nepal

Mount Kailash, 2016
Jean-Marie Hullot via Wikimedia Commons CC BY-SA 4.0

The devastating avalanche in Nepal is pushing the country's infrastructure to the limit and confronting the reform administration of Balen Shah with an overwhelming challenge.

I was in Nepal for the national election in March that catapulted rapper-politician Shah to the prime minister's office. Last week, an avalanche of ice, rock, and water tore through the Bhote Koshi and Trishuli river systems, pouring out of the Lhende River in Tibet and sweeping away downstream Nepali villages. The death toll is expected to top 1,000 easily and soon, as hundreds missing are likely buried beneath mud and debris.

(Two CCTV captures from the China-side border crossing at Gyirong Port have been widely shared and are public domain. They're disturbing, so I'm placing them at the bottom of this post and not higher up, for any reader who wants to view them. They do demonstrate the shocking speed and power of the avalanche. The videos are available from Wikimedia Commons (1, 2).) 

Pilgrims circumnavigating Mount Kailash, 2016
Jean-Marie Hullot via Wikimedia Commons CC BY-SA 4.0

Pilgrims, including tourists, visiting Mount Kailash are among the missing. Mount Kailash is believed to be the home of Lord Shiva and his wife Parvati. The mountain is a holy site in Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism, and Bon, an indigenous Tibetan spiritual tradition.

As I've watched the coverage, I'm reminded that infrastructure was a key issue in the March election. Nepal has asked for foreign aid with rescue and recovery, including genetic testing to identify victims, and resources for reconstruction. Reuters reported the need is on the scale of billions of dollars.

And time is of the essence. Nepali rescuers now are drilling through the baking, hardening surface of the mudflows to try to reach survivors who might be trapped underneath. The rapid advance of ice and earth likely left pockets of air in what used to be vehicles, buildings, and tunnels.

Getting to the northern border region of Nepal is no small feat. Flights to Kathmandu are limited in the best of times. In March, I took one of few large carrier approaches, Cathay Pacific via Hong Kong; Middle East connections were closed because of the U.S.-Iran War. Most flights into Kathmandu are regional connections. Closer Tibetan airports pose prohibitive barriers with prerequisite visas, travel permits, and border crossings.

The Nepali side of the border area is another six to eight hours' drive from Kathmandu. And that doesn't take account of conditions on two-lane roads amid the crisis, nor time to acclimate to altitude. Arriving at Kathmandu already puts one at about 4,400 feet (1,300 meters). The border town of Rasuwagadhi is at 6,000 feet (1,830 meters).

Hiking near Nagarkot, east of Kathmandu, 2026
RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

In the election in March, Shah supporters worried whether they could marshal the youth vote precisely because of limited transportation infrastructure. Nepali law required that votes be cast in a person's home district. But more than a million Nepali people, especially young voters, left their home villages to seek employment in Kathmandu.

I wrote in March about a medical student I met in Kathmandu on election day who, representatively, was not voting, because he could afford neither the time nor expense to reach his home village, 16 hours away by bus. Anger over undeveloped infrastructure in Nepal is thus tied closely to the familiar economic issues of jobs and educational opportunity.

Shortly before the election, in February, Shah's party had released a 100-point "manifesto" (Nepali language) outlining the policy changes a Shah administration would implement. Anti-corruption measures in the judiciary, for example, were to include meritocratic appointments, live broadcast of court proceedings, and statutory enhancement of judicial independence. The manifesto promised to get monied influences out of politics and to beef up the economy through apolitical partnerships with China and India. (Nepal News.)

Home construction near Nagarkot, 2026
RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

A bold economic development agenda included measures such as rapid growth of capacity in electricity generation, airports, and rail networks. Some of this work was under way; hydropower operators and construction workers at existing and new facilities are a significant number of the hundreds now missing.

Painfully apropos of the present circumstances, the manifesto called for "major reforms in mountain tourism safety and management," according to Nepal News, including "modern technologies such as drones and digital monitoring systems ... to strengthen safety, search, and rescue operations," especially in the Himalayan region on the Nepal-China border, and "hill stations in mountainous areas located within 1.5 hours of the India-Nepal border."

It's early to be Monday-morning quarterbacking what went wrong in the instant disaster—besides that climate change generally is melting glaciers and destabilizing permafrost at high altitudes. We know that affected Nepali villages received no early warning of the avalanche. Commenters have said that existing early warning systems are sparse, too widely dispersed, and depend on primitive and inadequate measurements, such as water levels. Moreover, sensitive technologies with communication capacity and weather resilience are difficult to install at high altitudes, and national borders complicate installation and communication.

An informative assessment of the early warning angle was posted Saturday by "The Honest Broker," political scientist and American Enterprise Institute senior fellow Roger A. Pielke Jr. He quoted a regional news source explaining that existing sensors, such as they were, ordinarily reporting every ten minutes, were simply swept away and silenced by the flash flood.

At 0.9 kmh, the record 200 million liters of water (52.8 billion U.S. gallons, filling 80,000 Olympic-sized swimming pools) reportedly traveled at twice the speed of past floods.

Residential woodpile, Nagarkot, 2026
RJ Peltz-Steele CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

Before the avalanche, when the Shah administration marked 100 days in office, on July 4, there was ample optimism and satisfaction in Nepal; Shah supporters generally were pleased. The party claimed meaningful progress on 70 to 90 manifesto points, according to various reports. A Kathmandu Post analysis pegged achievement at more like 38. But really, that's not bad for a start.

A range of initiatives already are transforming healthcare. Digital tools have been deployed to facilitate access to hospitals, an air ambulance system has extended its capacity to remote locales, and burn units and pharmacy services are expanding.

The administration reimbursed small-account holders who lost money in a public savings corruption scandal and compensated families of persons killed in the Gen Z protests (more on the protests in my earlier posts). Government offices have been streamlined, reducing backlogs and wait times on services such as passports, driver licenses, and business licenses. Legislative groundwork has been laid for constitutional and economic reforms.

There has been pushback and controversy. The administration has implemented a range of anti-corruption initiatives, including investigation and arrest of the prior prime minister. I'm not a fan of criminalizing politics, but in this case, the move is not unwarranted.

Nevertheless, and perhaps predictably, legislators are fretting over Shah's imperiousness. And outcry is coming not only from opposition parties, as Shah upends the status quo. Though I figure that's to be expected when a serious reformer takes on corruption. Imagine if Bernie Sanders had won the U.S. election in 2020. Opponents in his own party fretted that he would get nothing done with a recalcitrant Congress, but I thirsted for the effort and the naming of names it would entail.

The Shah administration also has drawn displeasure by seizing land, even if the takings are legitimate. Some seizures represent claw-backs of public lands that were sold off or given away as a function of government corruption (Yosemite, anyone?). Some seizures are lawful takings for infrastructure development. The problem arises in that with a downtrodden working class, much land is occupied by squatters, and the government has not always been gentle with their removal. Human rights advocates have criticized the Shah administration for forgetting the people whilst helping The People.

Notwithstanding political discontent, reasoned criticism, and media impatience, to my mind, Shah has been on a tear. Now the disaster poses a test. 

Of course, no one will blame Shah for the avalanche, nor for melting glaciers. Rather, if he plays his cards right, he can blame the West for global warming, China for lack of early warning, and his predecessors for the weak infrastructure that is aggravating rescue and will dog recovery. 

Rather, his problem is a plain old economic one. Collecting billions in foreign aid will be a chore in the present batten-down-the-hatches transnational zeitgeist. And focusing efforts on the relatively small and remote northern border region where the disaster occurred will mean a major drain on national resources, diverting focus and finance from the prime minister's agenda. 

Natural disasters have undone chief executives before. Ready or not, Nepal is going to find out whether Balen Shah has the right stuff to overcome.

CCTV Capture 1 at Gyirong Port

CCTV Capture 2 at Gyirong Port