Then Home Minister Krishna Sitaula read out the findings of the Rayamajhi Commission on Monday, Justice Janardan Lal Mallik was in a coma in the hospital.

He survived for a few days and then passed away. Had he seen the cynicism that greeted the restrained recommendations of Justice Rayamajhi, perhaps he too would have repeated Hegel's exasperated observation: 'the only thing we learn from history is that no one ever learns anything from history'.

Or that it repeats itself as a farce. Sitaula virtually trashed the Rayamajhi Commission report by stating that the government had already taken appropriate action against everyone found guilty of atrocities to suppress the people's uprising of April 2006.

Of 202 persons identified by the commission, however, most were let off the hook or left untouched. Apparently, the culture of impunity in the country has deeper roots than respect for retributive justice.

The commission of inquiry headed by former Supreme Court judge Krishna Jung Rayamajhi was constituted on 5 May 2006. Rayamajhi had championed the values of human rights, democracy, and rule of law at the height of Gyanendra's absolute rule. When he promised to bring perpetrators to book, it was clear his commission enjoyed the mandate of the people rather than just the government of the day.

At one point, commission members Ram Kumar Shrestha and Kiran Shrestha even hinted that the commission was losing its commitment. But Rayamajhi's credibility was so high he salvaged support. Nearly a year later, sceptics have been proved right. There is a certain d?j? vu here that harks back to the way the Mallik Commission report let everyone off the hook after 1990.

In fact, the Mallik Commission became a metaphor of the business-as-usual insincerity of electied governments after 1990 that ultimately tarnished Nepali democracy. Once denied justice, people lost faith in the leaders they had helped propel to power. This erosion of public faith in politicians ultimately led to the collapse of Nepal's second experiment in constitutional monarchy.

The Mallik Commission was constituted by the interim government of Premier Krishna Prasad Bhattarai on 23 May 1990 to investigate the excesses of the Panchayat regime that had suppressed democracy. At that time, it was unimaginable that a commission's findings could be ignored by a democratic government. Mallik was regarded highly for his uprightness and sense of fair play.

Justices Uday Raj Upadhyay and Indra Raj Pandey were colleagues in the commission, both equally renowned for contributions to justice during the Panchayat dictatorship.

But the reputation of three of the country's most respected judges proved to be powerless in the face of king Birendra's pressure. Birendra reportedly told Bhattarai that he was solely responsible for everything done by his minions. Since no action could be contemplated against the king at that time, the report of Mallik Commission was consigned to the darkest recesses of Singha Darbar.

When king Gyanendra staged his royal-military coup in 2005, he brought back almost everybody identified by the Mallik Commission for gross violations of human rights and habitual abuse of authority: Parashu Narayan Chaudhary, Niranjan Thapa, Kamal Thapa, Satchit Shamsher, Bhakta Bahadur Koirala, Badri Mandal, Sahabir Thapa, and Achyut Rajbhandari.

Not only were they rehabilitated, but they were given positions of authority to repeat their Panchayat era repression. Once again they escaped the net of justice, and there is no guarantee (given the way the Rayamajhi Commission has been handled) that they will not stage a come back to hound out Sitaula and his friends. Rayamajhi is justifiably furious over the way his report is being ridiculed by the eight party government, and royalist opposition alike.

As for Mallik, he has made peace with the harsh social realities of Nepal. When he headed the CIAA he scrupulously avoided getting into any controversy. Perhaps it was the stress caused by this contradiction between his belief and behaviour that hastened his death. He had been a witness to history and wanted to testify for truth in the court of public opinion, but political realities of the day prevented him from acting according to his conscience.

Soon Rayamajhi and his colleagues too will face a similar predicament. The path they choose will determine whether we have to keep tolerating endless repetitions of blighted history or make a bright future for ourselves.