Days after arsonists unleashed chaos, burning down the very foundations of Nepal’s government, the air in Kathmandu still hung heavy with the acrid scent of scorched buildings and incinerated documents.
Kathmandu’s majestic Singha Durbar compound, once a sprawling complex housing an opulent palace and roughly 20 government ministries amidst lush grounds, now stands as a desolate crime scene. In a few short hours of Sept. 9, a fiery rampage left it almost completely obliterated. On Monday, responders were seen salvaging what little remained from the prime minister’s office, hoisting charred documents onto their shoulders. Other papers danced aimlessly in the wind, while a dog casually relieved itself on a mound of demographic reports.
“It’s utter chaos; we’re completely in the dark,” lamented Pashupati Mahat, an under secretary at the Ministry of Energy, Water Resources and Irrigation, whose entire legal department was swallowed by the inferno.
Inside, a charred hallway led past a staircase abruptly terminating between the second and third floors. The education minister’s office lay shrouded in soot, a gaping hole where a wall once stood. On the desk, mundane items like pens and paper clips remained, alongside two lifeless telephones.
Outside each ministry, parking lots had become graveyards of burnt-out cars and motorcycles. The government now finds itself virtually devoid of official vehicles. Amidst the devastation, a computer motherboard lay incongruously wedged within rhododendron bushes.
In a bizarre tableau, a singed office chair had seemingly rolled itself into the middle of the road, adopting an unsettlingly permanent fixture.
Nepal, a nation cradled by the Himalayas, has a history marked by devastating earthquakes and a decade-long civil war. Yet, this recent wave of arson has, in a single afternoon, torn the very heart out of its government. The scale of destruction is akin to the White House, Capitol, Supreme Court, and virtually every stately government building in Washington D.C., along with nearly every state capital, being simultaneously ransacked and destroyed.
What began as peaceful student protests, fueled by anger over rampant official corruption and a growing wealth disparity, soon escalated into violent mob attacks. The extensive damage leaves Nepal’s newly appointed caretaker government, which took power following the unrest and a brutal security crackdown, in an even more precarious position.
Interim Prime Minister Sushila Karki is currently operating from one of the few government buildings left untouched by the fires. The ministers she has appointed find themselves without functional departments. Following their swearing-in on Monday, they were seen posing in chairs outdoors, set against a backdrop of charred rubble.
“Every institution vital for governing the nation, along with all its documents, has been destroyed,” Ms. Karki declared on Sunday, shortly after taking her oath. “We are starting from scratch.”
Following the burning of Parliament, frenzied mobs invaded the revered Singha Durbar, also known as the Lion’s Palace. Its magnificent Italian glass chandeliers, exquisite woodwork, and grand marble staircases were drenched in gallons of fuel, then set ablaze.
Numerous major ministries, including education, home affairs, health, transport, and energy, were engulfed in flames. The Supreme Court itself was torched, reportedly destroying an estimated 60,000 case files. Even the Special Court, tasked with prosecuting corruption, suffered severe damage, casting a shadow over future anti-graft initiatives.
The week of violence claimed over 70 lives, targeting the symbols of the political elite: party headquarters, residences of ministers and politicians, and businesses tied to powerful entrepreneurs. In the Kathmandu Valley alone, 112 police stations were completely razed, according to Senior Superintendent of Police Shekhar Khanal. Officers are now operating out of tents, some even directing traffic in civilian attire, having lost their uniforms and boots to the fires.
The wave of arson, often as simple as a matchstick igniting fuel, swept across much of the nation. Approximately 300 of Nepal’s 753 local government buildings suffered severe damage. In Pokhara, a city known as the gateway to the Himalayas, nearly every significant government structure was charred.
In a country where digital record-keeping is not universal, a vast trove of national documentation was lost: audits, intelligence reports, even original international agreements vanished in the smoke, alongside the records of a national investment trust. Reports from a state-owned bank indicated that all cash deposits at one branch were gone. Vital personal and business records, such as birth certificates and company registrations, were also consumed by the flames.
“While we possess the capacity to rebuild physically,” Ms. Karki stated, “the historical records, aged files, and intricate details are irrevocably lost.”
Remarkably, the passport authority emerged unscathed. In the aftermath of the military’s lifted curfew, Nepalis surged to its offices, seeking a way out of the country. With Nepal already unable to provide sufficient employment for its graduates and laborers, leading to over 2,000 daily departures, this latest crisis has only intensified the desire to leave.
The lives lost in the protests have been honored with the title of martyrs, and Wednesday was declared a national holiday in their memory. However, the government’s current offer of compensation to their grieving families stands at a mere $7,000.
The question of compensation for property owners remains unanswered. On Monday, outside the finance ministry within Singha Durbar, individuals meandered through a desolate landscape of twisted metal wreckage, desperately searching for their vehicles.
Through the faint traces of a chassis number, Rajendra Shrestha managed to identify the remnants of his motorcycle – a stark and meager reminder of what it once was.
“It’s mine,” he confirmed, “but it’s utterly destroyed.”
With a heavy heart, he turned and walked away.
Bhadra Sharma also contributed to this report.