Why Education Has Always Made Power Nervous

Why was education tightly controlled during the monarchy? Nepal’s history itself gives us the answer. Chandra Shumsher Jang Bahadur Rana (r. 1901–1929) remains one of the most polarizing figures in Nepali history. Often called the "Phistey Maharaj" due to his thin frame, he was a master of political survival. His approach to education was a calculated balancing act: he knew he had to modernize to keep up with the world, but he feared that an enlightened public would eventually overthrow the Rana autocracy.

 

Before Tri-Chandra College (1918) Nepali student seeking higher education had to travel to India. Chandra Shumsher viewed this as a security risk—India was brewing with anti-colonial revolutionary ideas. To keep the elite under his watch, he established the Tribhuvan-Chandra Intermediate Campus, now known as Tri-Chandra College. Upon its inauguration, Chandra reportedly whispered that he was "digging the grave of the Rana regime." He understood that by providing the tools of higher learning, he was inadvertently arming the next generation with the intellect to challenge his family’s absolute power. When Rana Prime Minister Chandra Shumsher opened Tri-Chandra College, Nepal’s first higher-education institution, he is said to have remarked, “I have struck an axe on my own foot.”

 

What did he mean? Simply this: education empowers people. When citizens learn to think critically, ask questions, and understand how power works, blind obedience begins to fade. Knowledge replaces fear, and authority can no longer go unquestioned. That is why rulers who rely on absolute control have always been wary of education. Although Tri-Chandra College was created under strict supervision, it slowly became a space where new ideas took root. Students exposed to modern subjects and scientific thinking began to see the injustices of the Rana system. Over time, educated young people played a key role in challenging autocratic rule. Education, once introduced, could not be contained.

 

The late Kul  Ratna Tuladhar had called me at his residence in Kamaladi in 1979. I explained to him why the idea of Institutes of National Importance (INI) matters. INIs are not just more universities. They are meant to be independent, merit-based, and research-focused institutions that serve national priorities—producing skilled professionals, innovators, and leaders who can tackle Nepal’s real challenges, from health and technology to climate change and governance. He told me about the history of how technical education started in Nepal. He told me that couple of funding proposals were forwarded to palace from top academic institutions of Europe and USA during King Mahendra's time for establishing world class technical education institution in Nepal like IITs in India, however, the proposal was rejected in the palace then. He was told at the palace - "if Nepalese people start getting educated in Nepal under world class standard the life of the royal system will decrease".  He was born on 6 July 1918 and died on 2 March 1984. He was the first Chief Engineer of Nepal's Public Works Department. Tuladhar also played a major role in the development of engineering education in Nepal's modern history. In 1951, he became chief engineer of the Public Works Department where he was in charge of design, construction, maintenance and repair of government buildings, roads and bridges in Nepal. Construction of Tribhuvan Highway began in 1953 which marked the start of Nepal's drive towards modernization. In 1954, Tuladhar became a member of the executive committee of the Nepal Council of World Affairs. In 1955, Tuladhar went to London and studied at the Architectural Association School of Architecture from where he earned a certificate of post-graduate course in tropical architecture. He was appointed principal of Nepal Engineering Institute in Lalitpur in 1962, subsequently becoming the first dean of the Institute of Engineering, Tribhuvan University, Kathmandu in 1973. In 1977, he was appointed a member of the Public Service Commission by the king of Nepal in which capacity he served till 1983.and was awarded the Order of Gorkha Dakshina Bahu I Class in 1969 and the Order of Tri Shakti Patta II Class in 1983 by the king of Nepal. He was the first dDEan of Instutte of Engineeing Pulchowk, under Tribhuvan University. 

 

Today, Nepal no longer lives under monarchy or Rana rule. Yet the old instinct to control education has not disappeared. It now shows up as underfunded universities, heavy bureaucracy, political interference, and a lack of institutions that can truly compete at the global level.

 

This is why the idea of Institutes of National Importance (INI) matters. INIs are not just more universities. They are meant to be independent, merit-based, and research-focused institutions that serve national priorities—producing skilled professionals, innovators, and leaders who can tackle Nepal’s real challenges, from health and technology to climate change and governance.

 

Just as Tri-Chandra College helped awaken political awareness in the past, INIs can help raise standards today. They challenge mediocrity, reward talent, and rebuild public trust in higher education. It is natural that such institutions make some people uncomfortable—education has always done that.

 

 

But history shows us something important: this discomfort is not dangerous. It is necessary. Societies move forward not by controlling knowledge, but by investing in it.

 

Nepal is once again at a crossroads. We can continue to treat education as a political tool, or we can recognize it as a long-term national investment. Establishing Institutes of National Importance is not about opposing the state—it is about strengthening it. And as history reminds us, an educated society remains the strongest foundation any nation can build.

While Chandra Shumsher was busy building palaces in Kathmandu, a different kind of drama was unfolding on the high Himalayan passes. For the Lhasa Newars—the elite merchant class of Kathmandu—the trade route to Tibet was a "Golden Path" that often turned into a nightmare of banditry and political chaos.

The story of traders like Ratna Das Tuladhar and his son Mandas Tuladhar (often referred to as Ma Das) serves as a poignant reminder of the high stakes of the Trans-Himalayan "Silk Road. For centuries, the Lhasa Newars like Tuladhars, Kansakars, and other Newar communities held a virtual monopoly on trade between India, Nepal, and Tibet. They operated massive business houses in Lhasa, Shigatse, and Gyantse. They carried textiles, spices, and factory goods from India. They returned with gold, musk, salt, and yak tails. This was a grueling 30-day journey on foot and horseback through the treacherous Kuti and Kerung passes, often referred to as the southern branches of the Silk Road. Despite the 1856 Treaty of Thapathali, which theoretically guaranteed the protection of Nepali traders in Tibet, the reality on the ground was far more lawless. Traders frequently fell prey to "Khampas" (fierce warriors and bandits from Eastern Tibet) who roamed the plateau.

The 1912 Lhasa Unrest: During Chandra Shumsher’s reign, the Xinhai Revolution in China triggered a violent uprising in Lhasa. As Chinese forces were expelled, the city fell into lawlessness. Nepali merchants, including the Tuladhars, found themselves caught in the crossfire. The Suffering of the Tuladhars: Ratna Das Tuladhar was one of many whose business interests were devastated by Chandra Samshere. His son, Mandas Tuladhar, eventually traveled to Lhasa in 1916 to revive the family trade, but the scars of looting and the shifting political landscape made it nearly impossible to regain their former glory.

Chandra Shumsher’s government had a "Vakil" (envoy) in Lhasa to protect Nepali interests, but his priorities were often elsewhere. Chandra was more focused on assisting the British (such as the 1904 Younghusband Mission) than on the granular safety of individual merchant caravans. When traders like Ratna Das were looted, the Nepali state rarely provided compensation. Many families who had been wealthy  for generations were reduced to bankruptcy overnight. Because of the constant looting and the 1912 unrest, many Newar traders began moving their operations to Kalimpong and Kolkata, marking the beginning of the end for the traditional Lhasa-Kathmandu trade.

 

Economic collapse of these merchant houses, Man Das Tuladhar and his wife Dhan Maya Tuladhar underwent immense domestic suffering that occurred behind the scenes. The Imprisonment of Man Das Tuladhar (1900–1975) was not just a trader but a pioneer of the Nepal Bhasa literary movement. His "crime" in the eyes of the Rana regime was often linked to his efforts to reform traditional customs and promote education/literature. In 1931, he was arrested alongside other activists (including the poet Yogbir Singh Kansakar) for trying to reform religious and social practices. They were publicly flogged and imprisoned by the Ranas, who viewed any organized social movement as a threat.

His wife's suffering during the birth of their son, Sukad Das Tuladhar, reflects a common tragedy for the families of political prisoners and bankrupt merchants of that era. When the trade routes became unstable due to the 1912 Lhasa unrest and subsequent looting, many "Sahu" (merchant) families lost their entire capital. In the early 20th century, wealthy Newar families typically lived in large ancestral homes. To be reduced to living in a rented flat was considered a public admission of failure and poverty, carrying a heavy social "shame" (beijat). Delivering a child while the husband was in jail and the family was in financial ruin meant she likely lacked the traditional support system and resources typically afforded to a merchant's wife Dhana Maya. Despite these hardships, the family remained resilient. Mandas Tuladhar went on to establish the Mandas Sugatdas and Himalaya Pioneer Publication firms. Sukad Das (Sugat Das) Tuladhar continued his father's legacy by establishing the Mandas Buddha Bodhigyana Foundation in 1997 to preserve Buddhist literature and Nepal Bhasa heritage. 

These stories serve as a reminder that the "Golden Path" to Lhasa was paved not just with wealth, but with the immense personal sacrifices of the women who managed broken households while their husbands were away, imprisoned, or fighting for social change.