Trafficking of soldiers highlights Himalayan nation’s high youth unemployment
KATHMANDU — The reported deaths of six Nepalis serving in the Russian military have rattled the Himalayan nation and cast a harsh spotlight on the reasons young citizens are joining the Ukraine war.
Nepal’s government is attempting to clamp down on the flow, appealing to Moscow to cease recruitment. After the six were reported killed last week, Nepali Prime Minister Pushpa Kamal Dahal revealed on Monday that as many as 200 nationals may be serving in the Russian Army. A small contingent of Nepalis is also understood to be serving in the Ukrainian army, finding themselves on the opposite side of their compatriots in a faraway war.
The controversy has led to arrests in Nepal, including a former soldier accused of smuggling men to Russia for up to $9,000.
Milan Tuladhar, Nepal’s ambassador to Russia, would not give a precise number of Nepali mercenaries involved in the war. He also declined to give details on government efforts to rescue them and halt such recruitment, but told Nikkei Asia that talks with Russia on these matters are ongoing.
At home, the country is mourning the dead and wrestling with questions over how and why some young Nepalis are risking everything for Russia.
Nepal has long been a source of mercenaries, particularly the legendary Gurkhas, known for serving in the British and Indian armies under the slogan, “Better to die than be a coward.” And while Nepal voted against the Russian invasion of Ukraine at the United Nations, the historical connection between the two countries spans decades. After they established diplomatic relations in 1956, the Soviet Union extended scholarships to Nepali students to study engineering and medicine.
Sanjay Sharma, a Kathmandu-based researcher specializing in Gurkha migration, sees parallels with Nepalis who have ventured into other conflict zones like Afghanistan and Iraq as contract workers and security guards. The people who joined Russia’s fight “may have been enticed by promises of Russian citizenship after a stipulated military service,” he said. “They might have viewed it as a gateway to richer European countries. Many may have initially perceived the conflict as one Russia would easily prevail in, not realizing it will be a protracted war.”
The deployment of Nepali mercenaries in the Russian army came to light via social media videos in May, coinciding with Russian President Vladimir Putin’s decree offering Russian citizenship to foreign nationals serving in the military. Sharma suggested that picture-perfect posts may have further enticed young people to join the bandwagon.
“Social media narratives seem to have played a role in heightening their aspirations, which has created an illusion that overseas travel guarantees quick financial success,” he said. The challenges of earning a decent living and securing employment in Nepal are likely a motivator, he said, “particularly among young adults eager to explore the world and liberate themselves from family constraints.”
Youth unemployment is acute in Nepal, where more than half the population of 26.5 million is under the age of 30. The jobless ratio is 19.2% for the 15-29 age bracket compared with 2.7% for the entire population, according to the International Labour Organization.
Around 2 million Nepalis work as migrant laborers in the Gulf and Southeast Asia, sustaining the country’s economy with their remittances.
Some have apparently stumbled into the conflict after going to Russia for other reasons.
Siddhartha Dhakal, a 22-year-old only child of farmers in a village near Kathmandu, decided to go to Russia to study after an acquaintance connected him with a Nepali trafficker based in Russia. His family paid 900,000 Nepali rupees ($6,700) to arrange the trip.
His cousin, Nawaraj Dhakal, called him “our small brother who wanted to make it big by going abroad.”
His parents only learned of his journey into war through a viral video online. In the footage, which could not be independently verified, Siddhartha recounts how he joined the Russian military after failing to pay the fees of the Russian university where he was enrolled. Speaking in broken English, Dhakal says: “University called me for pay money, but I have no money.”
He says that his college even offered to send him back to Nepal, but he declined. In mid-October, he joined the Russian army as a last resort. He claims to have been promised a substantial monthly sum but received only 4,000 rubles ($44) even 50 days after signing up.
Bishnu Bahadur Poudel, a 42-year-old former Nepal Army soldier, paid an agent 800,000 Nepali rupees to go to Russia. The father of two young children arrived in Moscow on Oct. 16 and told his wife, primary school teacher Sumitra Rayamajhi, that he had received a military card and was set to begin training the following day. He shared the contract, which mentions a monthly salary of 13,318 rubles.
“He always dreamed of going abroad,” Rayamajhi said. “He even took early retirement from the Nepal Army to realize that dream.” Her husband mentioned his deployment and the subsequent wait for orders. She said he suffered from a chest infection in the frigid weather, requiring hospitalization.
As Nepali families worry about the fate of loved ones who have joined the war and mourn their losses, Russia appears to be counting on foreign mercenaries like Poudel to bolster its forces. This raises further questions of how successful Nepal will be in persuading Moscow to stop recruiting its people.
“Russia’s decision to leverage foreign mercenaries, including from Nepal, rather than relying solely on its citizens, could be driven by practical considerations,” said Sharma, the researcher. “As long as Moscow can financially support these mercenaries, it becomes a viable option for them to maintain it.”