decades

SELMA, Ala. — Sixty-one years after state troopers attacked civil rights marchers on the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, thousands gathered in the Alabama city this weekend amid new concerns about the future of the Voting Rights Act.

The March 7, 1965, violence that became known as “Bloody Sunday” shocked the nation and helped spur passage of the landmark legislation that dismantled barriers to voting for Black Americans in the Jim Crow South.

But this year’s anniversary celebrations — events ran all weekend, including a commemorative march across the bridge Sunday — come as the U.S. Supreme Court considers a case that could limit a provision of the Voting Rights Act that has helped ensure some congressional and local districts are drawn so minority voters have a chance to elect their candidate of choice.

“I’m concerned that all of the advances that we made for the last 61 years are going to be eradicated,” said Charles Mauldin, 78, one of the marchers who was beaten that day alongside civil rights icon John Lewis and others.

Justices are expected to rule soon on a Louisiana case regarding the role of race in drawing congressional districts. A ruling prohibiting or limiting that role could have sweeping consequences, potentially opening the door for Republican-controlled states to redistrict and roll back majority Black and Latino districts that tend to favor Democrats.

Democratic officeholders, civil rights leaders and others have descended on the Southern city to pay homage to the pivotal moment of the civil rights movement and to issue calls to action. Like the marchers 61 years ago, they must keep pressing forward, organizers said.

Former Alabama state Sen. Hank Sanders, who helped start the annual commemoration, said the 1965 events in Selma marked a turning point in the nation and helped push the United States closer to becoming a true democracy.

“The feeling is a profound fear that we will be taken back — a greater fear than at any time since 1965,” Sanders said.

U.S. Rep. Shomari Figures won election in 2024 to an Alabama district that was redrawn by the federal court. He said what happened in Selma and the subsequent passage of the Voting Rights Act were “monumental in shaping what America looks like and how America is represented in Congress.”

“I think coming to Selma is a refreshing reminder every single year that the progress that we got from the civil rights movement is not perpetual. It’s been under consistent attacks almost since we’ve gotten those rights,” said Figures, a Democrat.

In 1965, the Bloody Sunday marchers led by Lewis and Hosea Williams walked in pairs across the Selma bridge headed toward Montgomery. Mauldin, then 17, was part of the third pair behind Williams and Lewis.

At the apex of the bridge, they could see a sea of law enforcement officers, some on horseback, waiting for them. But they kept going. “Being fearful was not an option. And it wasn’t that we didn’t have fear, it’s that we chose courage over fear,” Mauldin recalled in a telephone interview.

“We were all hit. We were trampled. We were tear-gassed. And we were brutalized by the state of Alabama,” Mauldin said.

Kathmandu, Nepal – On the eve of Valentine’s Day last month, a former king in Nepal was on a helicopter, making his way to the capital, Kathmandu, from Jhapa, a district to the southeast where he has business interests.

Gyanendra Bir Bikram Shah landed in Kathmandu to a red carpet welcome by thousands of supporters, with chants of “Raja aau, desh bachau!” (“Come back, king, save the country!”), a slogan popular among Nepal’s royalists, ringing out.

Four days later, on the eve of Nepal’s Democracy Day, the 78-year-old former monarch released a video message with English subtitles, speaking of his “unwavering sense of duty and responsibility” towards a nation he suggested was trapped in an “unusual whirlwind of distress”.

“The country is in one of the most painful situations in its history,” he said.

“In a democracy, it is appropriate for state systems and processes to operate in accordance with constitutional principles. While periodic elections are natural processes in a democratic system, prevailing sentiments suggest that elections should proceed only after national consensus to avoid post-election conflict or unrest.”

Shah’s explicit opposition to the parliamentary election – scheduled for Thursday – was aimed at Nepalis who have a lingering nostalgia for the monarchy, which was abolished in 2008 after seven years of Shah on the throne.

Why Shah is hopeful

Since the 239-year-old monarchy was abolished in 2008, Nepal, an impoverished nation of 30 million people, has been plagued with political instability.

It has seen 14 governments and nine prime ministers since, with power rotating between the ⁠former Maoist rebels’ party, the Communist Party of Nepal (Unified ⁠Marxist-Leninist), and the Nepali Congress.

However, a Gen Z-led uprising in September last year challenged the dominance of Nepal’s established political parties and forced the formation of an interim government, which is overseeing the March 5 election.

The youth-led challenge to an ageing political class has reignited debates in Nepal about a possible return of monarchy, and whether the prospect has significant public support.

There is marginal political support, too.

The Rastriya Prajatantra Party (RPP), which won 14 of the 275 seats in the 2022 parliamentary election, openly advocates for the restoration of a constitutional monarchy. Its leader, Rabindra Mishra, told Al Jazeera that Shah’s call for consensus on the issue echoed his own thoughts.

“I believe we need national consensus and a systemic overhaul of the system,” Mishra said, while campaigning in his constituency in Kathmandu. “I have been saying the election should be slightly postponed to forge consensus before announcing new dates. But we are not a formidable political force. The major parties are moving ahead with the election regardless.”

A year ago, Shah had put up a similar show of support in Kathmandu, fuelling speculation about whether he was trying to test the waters to push for the restoration of the constitutional Hindu monarchy. The demonstration turned violent after Durga Prasai, the royalist businessman who had mobilised crowds for the rally, broke the police barricade with his car and entered the restricted zone, which was not designated for demonstrations. Two people were killed, more than 100 were injured, and more than 100 were arrested for clashing with police.

‘Trying to remain relevant’

Critics see calculated political signalling behind Shah’s public appearances.

Baburam Bhattarai, an ex-prime minister and former Maoist leader, said Shah’s statements were concerning.

“These kinds of public statements during crucial times are not good,” Bhattarai told Al Jazeera. “The Constituent Assembly lawfully abolished the monarchy and established a democratic republic. He should think about how to contribute responsibly as a citizen. Suggesting elections should not happen just before they take place sends the wrong message.”

Political analyst CK Lal offered a more tempered view.

“He [Shah] has seen power, and that nostalgia does not fade easily,” Lal told Al Jazeera. “Perhaps he hopes that if circumstances change, keeping the idea alive may prove useful. But at present, he appears to be trying to remain relevant. It is difficult for anyone who once held absolute authority to accept irrelevance.”

‘Unifying symbol’

The RPP’s election manifesto describes the monarchy as a “guardian institution”, necessary for a country in crisis.

“To move forward, both wheels must be strong,” said party leader Mishra, using the metaphor of a royal chariot. “We are not proposing the monarchy will run the government. Political parties will govern. The monarchy would serve as a unifying symbol above partisan politics.”

Mishra said Nepal faces internal security challenges and regional geopolitical pressures, and a ceremonial monarchy could provide stability.

But Bhattarai rejects this, saying the idea of a Hindu monarchy conflicts with Nepal’s religious, ethnic and cultural fabric, and its secular constitution.

“Monarchy is obsolete,” he said. “It will not solve our crises. These are inherent challenges that can only be addressed through democratic processes. Nepal is an inclusive, secular state. We cannot reverse that.”

Lal, however, argued that the monarchy retains a limited but symbolic resonance among some people.

“It would be presumptuous to say it is not a force,” he said. “But it is not a considerable force. It appeals mainly to religiously minded elders and cultural conservatives. The younger generation has no lived experience of monarchy. To them, it appears antiquated.”

Calls to restore Hindu state

Nepal’s monarchy under the Shah dynasty ended in 2006, when Maoist-led mass protests forced Shah, who had seized power and imposed emergency rule, to reinstate parliament. In 2008, a constituent assembly formally abolished the monarchy and declared Nepal a secular federal democratic republic.

Now, the RPP advocates for reinstating Nepal as a Hindu state. Nepal was the world’s only officially Hindu kingdom until 2008.

Mishra frames the proposal as cultural preservation rather than religious majoritarianism. “Nepal is a centre of both Hinduism and Buddhism,” he said. “We do not oppose any religion.”

However, he insisted: “To protect Nepal’s identity and maintain social cohesion, we need a Hindu king as the head of state.”

More than 80 percent of Nepal’s population is Hindu.

Bhattarai dismissed the idea as “romanticism”.

“Religion is a personal faith,” he said. “A nation state does not have a religion – people do. Enforcing one religious identity on a diverse society is anti-democratic.”

Lal pointed out that calls to restore the monarchy and a Hindu state are closely intertwined. “From a monarchist perspective, a Hindu state is a first step,” he said. “For Hindu nationalist forces, it may be an end goal. There appears to be a convergence of interests.”

Since 2008, Shah has not formally entered politics, though he maintains a visible public presence. He appears at restaurants, night clubs, and other public places on his birthday and during festivals, casually posing for photographs with people. His occasional private visits abroad, including to India, have drawn political scrutiny, though he holds no official diplomatic role.

India’s governing Bharatiya Janata Party of Prime Minister Narendra Modi also holds the ideology that India ought to be a Hindu state.

At a pro-monarchy rally in 2025, a prominent poster showed Yogi Adityanath, a Hindu nationalist politician who is the chief minister of the Indian state of Uttar Pradesh, which borders Nepal. Adityanath is also the chief priest at Gorakhnath Temple, which the Shah dynasty considers sacred, and has been publicly sympathetic to the idea of Nepal as a Hindu state.

But Lal downplayed speculation about Shah being backed by India, home to the world’s largest Hindu population.

“Foreign governments support winners, not losers. Their [India’s] interests lie with whoever holds power,” he said. “Despite a close relationship between the monarchy and the [Hindu nationalist] lobby in India, which is the ruling class now, they know that the monarchy has almost no relevance in Nepal.”

Monarchists mainly draw their support for the institution from an 18th-century treatise called Dibya Upadesh (Divine Counsel). Attributed to the “Prithvipath” philosophy of Nepal’s unifier, King Prithvi Narayan Shah. The idea describes Nepal as “a yam between two boulders”, referring to its precarious position between India and China, and urges its leaders to pursue cautious diplomacy, economic self-reliance and internal unity.

The RPP’s Mishra argues that these principles remain relevant.

“What Prithvi Narayan Shah formulated more than 240 years ago is still applicable today, in foreign policy, diplomacy, economic protection and national stability,” he told Al Jazeera. “We already had our organic values in Dibya Upadesh, but we went looking elsewhere for ideological models.”

But analyst Lal dismissed the idea that an 18th-century doctrine could guide a 21st-century republic.

“It is largely nostalgia. Invoking Prithvipath does not address contemporary geopolitical and economic realities. Nepal today operates in a completely different global context,” he said.

“I don’t see much chance for the monarchy to be restored.”

Venezuela’s National Assembly has passed an amnesty law amid the political, economic, and social shifts the country has been experiencing following the removal of Nicolás Maduro by the United States. On February 5, the first debate on the amnesty bill took place, and after two weeks of consultations it was unanimously approved on February 19. Although the law includes significant changes compared to the version approved in the first stage, it still contains gaps that make it impossible to speak of genuine reconciliation.

Throughout the entire process, the ruling party’s narrative has been that chavismo “forgives” those who committed crimes, rather than acknowledging that the judicial system acted in a biased, arbitrary manner and contrary to the law. This is important to underscore because amnesty laws arise as special justice mechanisms through which the State recognizes its partial use of the justice system, especially in political contexts.

This newly approved amnesty law cannot be perceived as a sign of reconciliation. On the contrary, it seems to be a mechanism that allows the Rodríguez siblings to manage the release of prisoners without recognizing the State’s responsibility for more than two decades of political persecution. At the same time, however, we must view the consultation processes—promoted from within the structures of chavista power—as spaces where sectors of civil society and civic organizations raised their voices and, in one way or another, managed to be “heard” and “taken into account” to some extent.

To “forgive” prisoners, the presidency already has the authority to decree pardons under Article 236 of the Venezuelan Constitution. If the Executive Power is already able to order releases, what function does this law actually serve?

The answer to that question reveals the structural insufficiency of the law that was passed. It establishes no mechanisms for reparation and continues to exclude hundreds of individuals who have been persecuted. At its core, the law does not correct injustice. It merely attempts to cloak in legality the discretionary manner in which power has exercised persecution. It follows the same logic that has been used for years with pardons (the last of which came on Christmas 2025, days before the US military intervention) which are presented as gestures meant to project a “goodwill” image of the State while avoiding any acknowledgment of the harm caused.

Changes and silences

From the outset, we expected an imperfect law that would at least have room for improvement. In that regard, the law introduced important changes compared to the draft approved in the first debate, such as providing legal representation for those abroad. It also revised the list of excluded crimes, narrowing it to the crime of corruption (previously referred to as “crimes against public assets”), incorporated the possibility of appeals against court decisions on amnesty, and ordered notification to foreign bodies to lift international alerts or arrest warrants. It can even be said that it broadened the scope of acts eligible for amnesty. However, it also made significant omissions.

The statute could be amended to create a commission entirely independent from State bodies, composed of representatives of civil society, relatives of victims, and experts capable of making binding decisions.

The law must include all persecuted individuals. There can be no distinctions or exclusions, because persecution itself made no such distinctions. For this reason, any meaningful improvement of the current law must begin by eliminating the exclusion set out in Article 9 concerning “persons who are or may be prosecuted or convicted for promoting, instigating, requesting, invoking, favoring, facilitating, financing, or participating in armed or forceful actions against the people, the sovereignty, and the territorial integrity of the Bolivarian Republic of Venezuela, on behalf of States, corporations, or foreign individuals.” If the crime of rebellion is generally defined as an uprising against authority, then it is a political act like any of the other amnestiable offenses.

Recognition, inclusion, and non-discrimination must be the minimum standards for any amnesty that seeks to be considered a step forward in the pursuit of justice.

Lacking external oversight

In transitional justice contexts, international frameworks are clear in their assessment of amnesties: they cannot be left in the hands of the very institutions that participated in the persecution. The approved law establishes that verification of amnestiable cases falls to the courts and the Public Prosecutor’s Office, whose highest-level official stated in November 2024 that there were no political prisoners in Venezuela (nor minors unjustly imprisoned), only individuals who committed crimes and were prosecuted in accordance with the law. This underscores a problem as obvious as it is serious: this amnesty law cannot, on its own, correct the very bodies responsible for human rights violations.

The final text incorporates an advisory body to monitor the law’s implementation, one of the recommendations made by experts who engaged with the Interior Policy Commission. This body takes the form of a Special Commission of the National Assembly composed of figures directly linked to the State’s control and coercive apparatus, including Nicolás Maduro Guerra and Iris Varela, the former Minister of Prisons.

To ensure impartiality and credibility, oversight of the law’s implementation should fall to an independent body. Given that Venezuela lacks a genuine separation of powers, the statute could be amended to create a commission entirely independent from State institutions, composed of representatives of civil society, victims’ families, and experts in human rights and transitional justice, with powers to review case files, request information, and make binding decisions. In other words, technical specialists must be able to effectively oversee the application of the law.

Memory and non-repetition

If we aspire for the amnesty law to contribute to Venezuela’s reconciliation process, it cannot be limited to releasing individuals. The law must repair the harm caused and guarantee that persecution will not occur again.

Article 14 maintains the elimination of records and criminal histories of beneficiaries. This provision, far from promoting reconciliation, may erase evidence necessary to reconstruct patterns of persecution. Preserving documentation is a cornerstone of transitional justice. An amnesty that erases archives risks becoming a mechanism of impunity. Thus, while cases must indeed be extinguished, the files should be preserved and made available so that the Commission responsible for verifying the amnesty can confirm that victims have been repaired.

The discussion is no longer about whether persecution occurred, but about how it will be repaired and what independent mechanisms are needed to review each case.

Moreover, the law does not prescribe any mechanism for reparation. But all of this depends on the State recognizing its victims, restoring their rights, providing both symbolic and material reparations, and adopting institutional reforms that serve as safeguards to prevent the justice system from once again being used in a partisan manner.

One element removed from the draft approved in the first debate was the extinction of administrative actions. While this may seem minor, in the Venezuelan context it is vital. Amnesty should not apply only to criminal cases. In Venezuela, administrative mechanisms—such as political bans on opposition figures—have been used arbitrarily and constantly

Without these elements, the amnesty risks becoming a clean slate rather than a commitment to truth, justice, and non-repetition.

Political signals

The US has not issued a statement on the approved law. Representatives of the Trump administration, including the president himself, have primarily insisted on the release of political prisoners and the safe return of those in exile. We will see whether there is a statement (which, in my view, will come and will amount to a “green light”) and whether this law fits within the steps announced by Washington to evaluate the conduct of those in charge of the Venezuelan government.

After the law was approved in the chamber, lawmakers immediately presented it to the Executive. Delcy Rodríguez signed it publicly and, in her speech, called for speed in evaluating cases that do not fall under the law. That call can take several paths: issuing final convictions, granting pardons, or decreeing dismissals. The difference among the three is enormous. The first would mean completely forgetting those who are not amnestiable and keeping them imprisoned; the second would amount to a simple pardon, without acknowledging injustice; and the third would be an admission that there is insufficient evidence to proceed.

Jorge Rodríguez’s statements are also important to note: he publicly acknowledged the unjust application of the Anti-Hate Law and the possibility of reforming it. He also recognized that there are more than 11,000 cases linked to political persecution. That acknowledgment, although it did not come with an admission of responsibility, dismantles the narrative that these are “isolated” incidents or that the amnesty concerns only “individual cases.” Whether this is a gesture of “democratization” or simply the result of international oversight now conditioning the government, admitting the magnitude of persecution creates a crack in the official discourse. A crack that civil society and the opposition must seize.

When we speak of reconciliation and pacification in Venezuela, we mean that it’s the State that must cease to be a violent actor. Today, with an insufficient amnesty law in place, we cannot speak of such reconciliation. But considering these signals, the discussion is no longer about whether persecution occurred, but about how it will be repaired and what independent mechanisms are needed to review each case.

Venezuela needs real reconciliation. And such reconciliation is only possible if the State acknowledges that it systematically used the justice system to persecute those who think differently. The approved law is insufficient, but it may yield partial results. That is why it is important for civil society to be present at every public forum to demand truth, reparation, and review of case files. The more contradictions those interventions induce among powerful factions, the greater the pressure to make decisions that would not be made voluntarily. This amnesty law does not resolve persecution, but it does create a space for persistence, oversight, and civil society coordination that can push for real change. As the transition advances and the political landscape shifts, the amnesty law can be adjusted, expanded, and corrected. Its enactment is not an endpoint. It is a starting point that can evolve.