As an intensifying Maoist insurgency kills an average of nearly 10 Nepalis a day, King Gyanendra has spent most of his time in his palace chain-smoking, writing vague speeches and, Nepalese leaders and foreign diplomats say, keeping nearly everyone in his anguished kingdom guessing.
"Frankly, we don't know what he wants," said a senior Indian diplomat in Katmandu. "He has managed to create a two-front war for himself."
Nineteen months ago, the king dismissed the elected prime minister, took control of the government and promised to steady the nation after 13 years of erratic civilian democracy. Today Gyanendra, 56, an amateur poet and wildlife conservationist who receives tips on what books to read from Henry Kissinger, is being called a Himalayan Nero by opposition politicians.
The Maoist insurgency has killed an estimated 2,300 Nepalis since peace talks collapsed eight months ago. A promise from the king last month to hold elections for a new civilian government within a year has failed to placate the country's two main political parties. For three weeks, the usually bickering rivals have united to mount small but violent street demonstrations, which they vow to continue.
Vague speeches
While the Maoists and the country's feuding politicians share blame for the situation, Nepali analysts and Western diplomats say the king is the only political force with the stature to slow the country's downward spiral.
Michael Malinowski, the departing US ambassador, told journalists at a farewell meeting last week of his increasing concerns about the monarch's commitment to democracy.
"He tells us that he's a strong backer of constitutional monarchy, of multiparty democracy," Malinowski said. "I think everybody is concerned that there is a drift."
The king, who declined an interview request, has said he was forced to intervene by the ceaseless political infighting that put Nepal through nine governments in 12 years. He has repeatedly promised to hold elections, but has failed to set a firm date. In an effort to gain public support, he has made four trips to other parts of Nepal over the past 16 months, addressing as many as 15,000 people at public meetings.
"Activating, at the earliest, a representative form of government in accordance with the norms and values of multiparty democracy must now be at the top of our national agenda," the king said. His highest priority, he added, was creating an environment for "initiating elections" before April 2005.
Protesters are demanding immediate elections. Covered in sweat after hurling stones at police officers on April 20, Gagan Tapa, a student leader charged with sedition for shouting "killer king" during earlier protests, urged other students to join him the next day.
"We hope we come out with more power," he said. "Tomorrow is the students' day."
Average Nepalis express growing skepticism about their king and political leaders.
"It doesn't make a difference who comes to power," said Sharashwathi Shrestha, a homemaker who was sitting with her son on a Katmandu street on April 23. "They think about themselves only, not the common people."
The present king was third in line to the throne three years ago. But on the night of June 1, 2001, a drugged and drunken Crown Prince Dipendra put on combat fatigues, walked into a family dinner in the royal palace and opened fire with a submachine gun.
He killed his father, King Birendra, his mother, a brother, a sister, two uncles, two aunts and a cousin before apparently killing himself. Gyanendra, a brother to the slain king, was in central Nepal at the time. He abruptly became Nepal's monarch.
Many people in this nation of 23 million mostly poor people question the official version of events and suspect Gyanendra and his unpopular son, Paras, of a role in the killings. Government officials and local journalists disagree, saying there is no evidence of wrongdoing by Gyanendra or his son.
Little in his life appears to have prepared him for a crisis that one politician called one of the deepest in the kingdom in 200 years. Gyanendra and two brothers were sent to a Jesuit school in nearby Darjeeling, India, for their primary and secondary education, friends of the royal family said.
When Jawaharlal Nehru, the new Indian prime minister, visited his school, Gyanendra was asked to present him with a flower of welcome.
"He told the school director he would not do it," the family friend said. The prince said that according to royal protocol, "I am higher than he."
Gyanendra graduated from Nepal's finest university, Trib-huvan. He became known as a shrewd businessman with interests in luxury hotels, a tea estate and a cigarette-manufacturing company. He also became active in wildlife conservation, leading a trust named after his father to preserve national parks.
Gyanendra's father, King Mahendra, ended a decade of experimental democracy in 1960, replacing it with the partyless Panchayat system dominated by the royal family. Gyanendra's brother, Birendra, restored democracy in 1990 after security forces killed more than 40 people during prodemocracy demonstrations.
The current king, who reads widely and regularly surfs the Internet, is more conservative than his late brother, family friends and former government officials said. Political leaders reported suspicions that he is trying to restore the Panchayat system, saying his recent trips around the country recall those his father made after ending democratic rule in 1960.
A deadly prince
Nepali political leaders and Western diplomats who have repeatedly met with the king in recent months say he listens intently and sometimes takes notes. But they said he says next to nothing, and gauging his sentiments is impossible.
"All the kings are very clever," said communist party leader Madhav Kumar Nepal, who has often met with the king. "They talk in an abstract way so you can have any idea you want," he said.
Adding to the concerns, the royal family has a history of heart disease and early deaths. And Gyanendra's son, Crown Prince Paras, is widely distrusted. A notorious drinker, he was known for carousing in Katman-du nightclubs and for being involved in four fatal hit-and-run accidents, including one that killed a popular singer. In 2000, 500,000 Nepalis signed a petition urging that he be prosecuted. It was never acted upon.
Since the massacre of the king and other family members in 2001, the prince, now married and the father of three, has tried to clean up his image. Asked about the crown prince, average Nepalis offered either lukewarm praise for his effort to change or declined to comment.
The Royal Nepalese Army, which is controlled by the king and has received US$22 million in US aid, is another concern. Human rights groups accuse it of scores if not hundreds of unlawful killings and other gross human rights abuses in the conflict with the Maoists.
Student demonstrators, the backbone of the street protests, are openly calling for the abolition of a monarchy they see as archaic. Binita Adhikary, a student leader from the Nepali Congress Party, accused the king of taking advantage of the traditional Nepali belief that the sovereign is the living embodiment of the Hindu god Vishnu.
"He's trying to feed the Nepali people water from his feet because he's seen by average people as a god," she said "He behaves like a 14th-century king but says he's a 21st-century leader."
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