British Gurkhas seek Equal Rights from the Army

By Pratibha Tuladhar - 

AS a group of mourners sang the Magar dirge, Jham Bahadur Pun Magar, 55, wiped his eyes with the end of the white linen cloth wrapped around his body. “This song is about how you can no longer call out to someone once the person is dead,” the former soldier in the British army said. The ceremony in the western district of Syangja honoured the 60,000 Nepalese Gurkha soldiers who died fighting for the British crown during the two world wars, and to press for recognition. “Songs like these make me cry,” he said laughing at his own tears, revealing a facet of the culture known to be “as gentle and shy in daily life as they are fearless and tenacious in battle.” Described by 19th-century British officials as a “martial race,” the Nepalese hill tribesman have served in the British army over two centuries. More than 200,000 Gurkhas fought for the British in the world wars, serving in different countries. 

 The Gurkhas first joined forces with the British in 1814, fighting for the East India Company. The regiment was split when the British quit India in 1947 and it has since served in both the Indian and the British armies. “If a man says he is not afraid of dying, he is either lying or he is a Gurkha,” Indian Field Marshal Sam Manekshaw famously said. The name is derived from Gorkha district, where the expansion of the Nepalese kingdom began. Western Gurungs and Magars, and Rais and Limbus from the east, have mostly joined the Gurkha ranks. The tribes live in some of the remotest districts in the shadows of Himalayan peaks. They are nature worshippers, with many practicing Buddhism, while some have taken up Hinduism. “When I was stationed in Borneo in 1962, there were times when I’d lost my way in the forest, battled snakes and quicksands,” recalled Til Bahadur Gurung, 70, who stood out from his country men in a suit and Scottish cap.

 “There were days when we dug out roots for food and waited for the sun to dry our clothes after we got drenched in rain.” Gurung now lives in Reading, England. He moved to Britain three years ago, after former Gurkha soldiers won a court case in 2009 that gave them right to residency. But he is not entitled to a pension, and survives on government welfare. “I once shot a single-engine Indonesian plane with a GPM (General Proper Machine-gun),” he recalled. “The plane dropped paratroopers, but it burst into flames by the time it arrived at the Indonesian airport — like a scene from the movies.” Gurkhas are also identified by their traditional 18-inch curved knife called the khukuri. “Legend has it that the khukuri had to taste blood once removed from the sheath,” said Rajesh Rai, spokesman for the Gurkha Ex-Servicemen’s Association (GAESO). “It was to imply that Gurkhas never give up in war.” 

Since 1858, 13 Gurkhas have been awarded the Victoria Cross, Britian’s highest military honour for valour. “When we were growing up, we could not think beyond joining the British army because that’s what we had seen our fathers do,” explained retired soldier Damar Bahadur Pun, who followed his own father and three uncles into the British army, as did his four brothers, and one of his two sons. “We grew up knowing that was our destiny,” he said. Now the once-unquestioned loyalty to the crown is strained as the Gurkha accuse the British government of discrimination. “Our ranks, salary and pensions have always been lower than that of other British soldiers,” said Padam Bahadur Gurung, chairman of the veterans’ association. 

“We’re demanding equal pay for equal work.” They are petitioning the British government for rights on par with other soldiers, and recognition for Gurkhas killed in war. There are currently around 4,000 Nepalis serving in the British forces, GASEO’s Rai said. About 130 are recruited from Nepal each year. As a three-day mourning ritual got under way this month, Buddhist monks said prayers, women lit colourful incense sticks, and men dressed in ethnic attire beat drums and chanted prayers. Retired soldier Dambar Bahadur Limbu watched as a shaman from his Limbu caste invoked a slow wail, dedicating the ritual to the dead.

(Source - omanobserver)