Opinion

The cow and the rhino: Nepal's national symbol debate

This debate is not simply about two animals. It is about two different ways of building our nation

By Rudramani Pokhrel

A crow sits on top of a greater one-horned rhino along the dense forests and plains at Chitwan National Park in Chitwan, Nepal on Sunday, January 21, 2024. Photo: Skanda Gautam/ THT

Can a single animal carry the soul of an entire nation? The question has come alive again in Nepal. This month, Nepal's Indigenous Nationalities Commission submitted a 25-point proposal to change parts of the constitution. Among suggestions on language rights and representation, one idea has caught everyone's attention: replace the cow with the one-horned rhinoceros as Nepal's national animal. The cow is holy for Hindus, the commission argues, but it cannot be a common symbol for all Nepalis. It does not hold the same meaning for Muslims, Kirat and Rai peoples, and many indigenous groups who never treated the cow as sacred. The proposal comes at a sensitive time. It answers the Prime Minister's Office's call for fresh ideas in the spirit of the 2082 Gen Z movement, and the Rastriya Janamorcha party has also demanded the same change on secular grounds. Some may think this is a small matter about an animal, but it is much deeper. The debate between cow and rhino is actually about the biggest question in any diverse country: Should the state build its official identity around the majority community, or should it stay neutral and stand equally for all groups? This is not the first time Nepal has debated this. When the constitution was written in 2015, leaders from indigenous communities strongly pushed for the rhino. They said a secular republic needs a secular symbol. They did not succeed. It was a compromise to traditional groups who had just lost the bigger fight to keep Nepal a Hindu state. The constitution kept the cow and continued the ban on cow slaughter. The compromise left both sides unhappy. Indigenous groups felt the state talked about secularism but still kept a religious symbol. Traditionalists worried that their ancient heritage was slowly disappearing. The case for the cow is full of emotion. For Nepal's Hindu majority, the cow represents goddess Lakshmi. It is part of farming life, Tihar festivals, and daily religious rituals. Defenders say secularism does not mean the majority must erase its culture from public life. The case for the rhino is based on today's reality. Nepal is home to more than 120 ethnic groups. In some indigenous traditions, beef has been part of their customs. Because of the slaughter ban, some people have even faced jail for following their own culture. Critics say a symbol that creates legal problems for some citizens cannot represent the whole nation. The rhino, on the other hand, survives in the wild only in Nepal and India. Tharu people of Chitwan have respected it for centuries. Its protection is a pride shared by all communities. We can learn from history. South Asia gives us clear warnings. Sri Lanka made Sinhala the only official language and gave Buddhism special place. The Tamil minority felt pushed aside, and the country fell into a long and painful civil war. Sri Lanka's majority was about three-quarters of the population - similar to Nepal's Hindus. Numbers alone could not remove the grievance. Pakistan was created as a Muslim homeland, but shared religion could not bridge language differences: East Pakistan broke away in 1971 and became Bangladesh. Nepal itself was the world's only Hindu kingdom until 2006. That period ended with a 10-year civil war in which many excluded ethnic groups joined the Maoist insurgency. There is a better path. The good news: we do not have to erase the majority culture. India was mostly Hindu at independence, yet chose a secular constitution - its leaders understood that because the majority was so big, the state had to stay neutral for minorities to trust it. Hindu culture did not become weak. It stayed strong naturally. Indonesia, the largest Muslim country, did not make an Islamic state. It follows Pancasila for unity in diversity. Mauritius, a Hindu-majority country in Africa, celebrates festivals of all religions and enjoys stability. Some point to Poland, Japan, or the Gulf states as strong majority-identity nations. But those countries are nearly homogeneous. A majority-identity state runs smoothly only when almost no one else lives there. In a diverse society, it turns cultural difference into political grievance. In Nepal, Hindus form about 80 percent of the population. Such a large majority does not need the power of the state to protect its culture. Hinduism has shaped our land for thousands of years, long before any constitution. Asking the state to enforce majority symbols is usually a sign of insecurity, not strength. This debate is not simply about two animals. It is about two different ways of building our nation. One way writes the majority into the state system and asks others to adjust. The other way creates a state that truly belongs to everyone and lets the majority culture shine on its own. The rhino offers a beautiful symbol for this second path. It does not belong to any single religion. It is native to our forests. Its survival is a collective effort of Tharu trackers, army guards, conservationists, and local villagers. It shows what we achieve when we work as one Nepal. Whether we make this change today, tomorrow, or never, the deeper question will remain. Every diverse democracy must answer it again and again: not whose country this was, but whose country this is. The strongest and most peaceful nations in history have all given the same answer. It belongs to everyone. Pokhrel, PhD is a physicist and bioinformatics scientist, University of Arizona, Tucson, USA