KATHMANDU: After four years of delay, Nepal’s Supreme Court is poised to deliver a verdict on one of the country’s most contentious constitutional disputes: the appointment of 52 officials to key commissions. These appointments, made during the final stretch of KP Sharma Oli’s second term as prime minister, have been mired in controversy, accused of bypassing parliamentary hearing and undermining constitutional norms.
The case stems from writ petitions challenging the legality of Oli’s decision to fill vacancies in bodies such as the Commission for the Investigation of Abuse of Authority (CIAA), National Human Rights Commission and the Election Commission through an ordinance. Critics argue that the appointments were pushed through without the necessary parliamentary hearings or a fully functional Constitutional Council, raising questions about executive overreach.
The five-member constitutional bench, led by Chief Justice Prakash Man Singh Raut, is hearing 15 interconnected petitions filed by senior legal figures, including Dinesh Tripathi and Om Prakash Aryal. The justices face a pivotal task: determining whether the appointments complied with Nepal’s constitutional framework or violated its principles.
“This is not just about appointments,” says a source within the court. “It’s about defining the boundaries of judiciary, Constitutional Council, executive authority and ensuring the integrity of the constitutional process.”
The stakes are high. The officials in question were appointed in December 2020 and serve six-year terms or until the age of 65. Few have already retired or are nearing the end of their tenure, but the court’s ruling will have implications far beyond these specific cases. A decision to annul the appointments could reset the balance of power, reinforcing parliamentary oversight over executive actions.
Observers believe the ruling will set a lasting precedent. “This judgment could redefine the separation of powers in Nepal,” notes a former Supreme Court justice. “It will determine whether constitutional appointments can be expedited through executive fiat or must remain accountable to parliamentary checks.”
As the verdict looms, expectations are high across Nepal’s political and legal circles. For the judiciary, this is a chance to reassert its role as a guardian of constitutional order. For the public, it is a litmus test for Nepal’s democracy—whether it remains tethered to the rule of law or succumbs to political expediency.
Whatever the outcome, the ruling will shape the contours of Nepal’s constitutional future, closing a turbulent chapter of the Oli era and setting the stage for the nation’s next political battles.
How the controversial Constitutional appointments bent the rules to stack Nepal’s institutions
In the flurry of outrage over Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli’s dramatic dissolution of the House of Representatives on December 20, 2020, a quieter but perhaps more consequential power grab unfolded—one that has left Nepal’s democratic institutions reeling years later.
The case traces back to two separate recommendations made by the Constitutional Council on December 15, 2020, and May 9, 2021, during KP Oli’s time as prime minister. In total, 52 individuals were proposed for roles across various constitutional bodies. But the process itself sparked immediate outcry.
In a break from democratic norms, President Bidya Devi Bhandari swiftly endorsed the Council’s recommendations, appointing four chairpersons and dozens of members to critical constitutional commissions—without parliamentary hearings. The House, having been dissolved, was unable to scrutinize the appointments. A controversial clause in the House regulations was invoked instead: if the hearing committee fails to make a decision within 45 days, the appointees are considered approved. This procedural maneuver was challenged not only by legal advocates but also by then-Speaker Agni Sapkota, who filed a writ petition at the Supreme Court alongside over a dozen others.
Oli had dissolved the House of Representatives in late 2020—a move that was later overturned by the Supreme Court. In the intervening period, his government pushed through an ordinance amending the Constitutional Council (Functions, Duties, and Procedures) Act, allowing a reduced quorum of just three members—Prime Minister Oli, National Assembly Chairperson Ganesh Timilsina, and then Chief Justice Cholendra Shumsher JB Rana—to recommend appointees.
That move came in the form of an ordinance. With little warning, Oli amended the Constitutional Council (Functions, Duties, and Procedures) Act, weakening a key check in Nepal’s balance of powers. Days before dissolving Parliament, he pushed through changes that allowed the Constitutional Council to convene and make decisions without the presence of the leader of the opposition. That ordinance paved the way for Oli to appoint dozens of loyalists to constitutional bodies—appointments that would have lasting implications on anti-corruption investigations, electoral integrity, human rights monitoring, and judicial independence.
In a single stroke, Oli recalibrated the structure of power—and blurred the line between constitutionality and convenience. The Constitutional Council is not just another government committee. It is the engine that powers appointments to Nepal’s most critical democratic watchdogs: the Commission for the Investigation of Abuse of Authority (CIAA), the Election Commission, the National Human Rights Commission, Public Service Commission, and several others. These are the institutions meant to hold executive power in check. Their leaders are appointed through bipartisan consensus—at least, that was the idea. By law, the Council comprises the prime minister, chief justice, House speaker, deputy speaker, National Assembly chair, and leader of the opposition. Decisions required a quorum and the presence of opposition leadership—until Oli rewrote the rules.
On December 15, 2020, with his ordinance approved by President Bidya Devi Bhandari, Oli convened the Council without the opposition. The Council, now reduced to three members—himself, Chief Justice Cholendra Shumsher Rana, and National Assembly Chair Ganesh Timilsina—swiftly recommended 38 names for 11 constitutional bodies. Parliamentary hearings, mandated by the constitution, never happened. Five days later, Parliament was dissolved. On December 23, Chief Justice Rana—who had sat on the recommending panel—administered the oath of office to 32 officials. The circular flow of power was complete.
Constitutional Sleight of Hand To justify the appointments without hearings, Oli’s government invoked a controversial clause in parliamentary regulations: if the Parliamentary Hearing Committee fails to act within 45 days of receiving nominations, the appointments can go ahead “without obstruction.” But legal experts say this applies only when Parliament is in session—not when it has been dissolved altogether. Oli’s Calculated Game Why did Oli go to such lengths? At the time, he was locked in a power struggle with rival Pushpa Kamal Dahal (Prachanda). One of the appointees, CIAA Chief Prem Kumar Rai, alleged his intention to revive sensitive opposition leaders’ files. With loyalists in the CIAA, Oli was arming his team with legal ammunition.
Others saw the appointments as laying the groundwork for the 2021 elections, giving Oli control over the Election Commission and influence over the Human Rights Commission amid rising international scrutiny on transitional justice. Even appointments like that of Tap Bahadur Magar to head the NHRC were fraught, coming at a time when Nepal faced growing criticism for failing to hold security forces accountable for excessive force against civilians.
The full impact of Oli’s appointments remains unresolved from the court. The ordinance that enabled them was never tabled in Parliament. Under Article 114 of the Constitution, an ordinance must be ratified within six months of issuance. But after parliament dissolution it failed to do so. What happens to the appointee’s legitimacy then? The constitution is silent. these appointments have now taken us down a path of constitutional crisis and supreme court is require to explain along this case.
The longer the uncertainty lingers, the more damage it does to the rule of law. In the meantime, the Supreme Court continues to hear petitions, inching toward a decision on the legality of the appointments. But with several officials nearing the end of their six-year terms, many fears the verdict will arrive too late to matter.
The four-year drama: why and how a landmark case in limbo
At the center of Nepal’s constitutional crisis stood a man once tasked with defending its constitution and laws—Cholendra Shumsher JB Rana, the suspended former Chief Justice who became a symbol of judicial overreach and political complicity. When the Constitutional Council Ordinance was pushed through by Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli, it allowed appointments to powerful constitutional bodies without consensus or parliamentary scrutiny. Rana, as Chief Justice and a member of the Council, was both a participant in the decision-making and its chief beneficiary.
Rana was no stranger to controversy. Over a long and polarizing tenure, he developed a reputation for prioritizing personal and political gain over judicial integrity. But it was during the fraught appointment process of constitutional officials in 2020 and beyond that his actions sparked an unprecedented erosion of public trust in Nepal’s judiciary. In a democracy where the courts are meant to rise above the political fray, Nepal’s Supreme Court found itself entangled in a knot of silence, self-protection, and judicial deadlock.
What began in 2020 as a controversial ordinance-led appointment spree by Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli would evolve into one of the most prolonged and politically loaded cases in Nepal’s constitutional history—one that sat unattended in the docket for nearly four years. Why? Because the man tasked with delivering justice was also accused of shaping the very injustice in question. Then-Chief Justice Rana didn’t just preside over the swearing-in; he was part of the recommending body and involved in power sharing for his associates. When cases challenging the appointments reached the Supreme Court, he refused to recuse himself, delaying hearings for months. Judicial independence became entangled with political loyalty. Among those appointed through this controversial process were Rana’s own nephew, the mother of Rana personal assistant, and others close allies. He exercised his influence not only in securing these appointments but in shielding them from legal scrutiny.
The tenure of Cholendra Shumsher Rana as Chief Justice of Nepal’s Supreme Court will forever be remembered as one of controversy and corruption. From his controversial ascent to the top of the judiciary to his blatant disregard for judicial ethics, Rana’s actions have left a lasting scar on Nepal’s legal system.
Rana entered the judiciary with a reputation for manipulation, securing his position through questionable means. His tenure was marked by an unprecedented alignment with the executive branch, violating the principle that the judiciary must remain independent. Rather than acting as a check on power, Rana allowed the judiciary to be used as a tool for political bargaining.
In his dealings with then-Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli, Rana turned the Supreme Court Chief Justice into a bargaining chip. He secured key appointments for his allies and family members, undermining meritocracy and judicial integrity. His personal assistant, Mamta Khanal, was elevated to a High Court judge, while Sabitri Kumari Sharma, the mother of another assistant, was plucked from a teaching position and placed on the Women’s Commission. These appointments exemplified how he prioritized personal loyalty over qualifications, making a mockery of the judiciary’s supposed impartiality.
The extent of Rana’s political collusion became glaringly obvious when he reportedly negotiated ministerial positions for his allies. His brother-in-law, Gajendra Hamal, briefly served as Minister of Industry in Sher Bahadur Deuba’s cabinet, only to resign after public outrage. Rana’s actions revealed a judiciary not just complicit but actively participating in the political horse-trading that it was meant to oversee and restrain.
Perhaps the most damning revelation came from former Attorney General Raman Kumar Shrestha, who accused Rana of accepting bribes in the form of cash bundles so large they were measured by weight—17.5 kilograms of 1,000-rupee notes equaling 10 million rupees. Such allegations, coupled with his unchecked ambition, earned Rana a reputation as a symbol of corruption and self-interest, with critics dubbing him the “Corrupt King of the Court.”
Rana’s legacy is not merely one of personal greed but of systemic damage. By entrenching political and familial loyalties in the judiciary, he left an institution deeply compromised and struggling to regain public trust. His actions serve as a stark warning about the dangers of unchecked power and the fragility of democratic institutions when personal ambition takes precedence over integrity.
In the end, Cholendra Shumsher Rana’s tenure is a grim reminder of what happens when the guardians of justice turn into its greatest violators. His story is not just one of individual failure but a collective challenge to restore the judiciary’s independence and honor in Nepal.
On August 27, 2021, Cholendra Shumsher Rana made a striking announcement: he would recuse himself from the Constitutional Bench set to hear challenges regarding appointments to key constitutional bodies. His decision, ostensibly aimed at expediting long-delayed cases, instead sparked a protracted legal drama that has stymied progress for nearly four years.
The Constitutional Bench was poised to hear petitions questioning the legitimacy of appointments made under ordinances introduced by then-Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli. These ordinances had controversially amended quorum provisions of the Constitutional Council Act, enabling decisions to be made with just three members. Critics argued that the appointments—52 individuals across two ordinances—bypassed parliamentary scrutiny and compromised constitutional integrity.
However, Chief Justice Rana’s decision to step aside, citing potential conflicts of interest, became the first domino in a series of legal entanglements. Petitioners contended that as a member of the Constitutional Council involved in the contested appointments, Rana’s role as head of the bench violated the principles of natural justice. Despite his recusal, the constitutional ambiguity surrounding his move opened a Pandora’s box of legal and procedural dilemmas.
Justice Hari Phuyal soon became a central figure in the unfolding drama. On September 2, 2021, his single bench issued an interim order halting the Constitutional Bench from proceeding. The order argued that the cases could not advance until fundamental questions were resolved: Could the chief justice voluntarily recuse himself? If so, could the senior-most justice legitimately preside over the Constitutional Bench?
This order effectively froze the process. Justice Phuyal emphasized that the answers required careful interpretation of Nepal’s Constitution, particularly Article 137, which mandates that the chief justice lead the Constitutional Bench. Phuyal also directed the Nepal Bar Association and the Supreme Court Bar to nominate two amici curiae to assist in the matter.
The legal stalemate deepened when petitions argued that Rana’s recusal was procedurally and constitutionally flawed. Advocate Ganesh Regmi’s petition contended that only a constitutional amendment could address the issue of Rana’s withdrawal, as the chief justice’s role on the bench was explicitly mandated. Meanwhile, advocates Om Prakash Aryal and Dinesh Tripathi challenged the underlying ordinances, decrying them as a breach of democratic norms.
Article 137 of the Nepal’s constitution required Chief Justice presence on the bench. This contradiction sparked debates about whether Nepal’s constitutional framework required a structural overhaul. Adding to the confusion, a committee led by Justice Hari Krishna Karki recommended a constitutional amendment to reconsider the chief justice’s role in the Constitutional Council. The panel highlighted systemic issues of conflict of interest and judicial malpractice, advocating for structural reforms to restore public trust in the judiciary.
Chief Justice Rana’s conflict of interest should have demanded immediate recusal. But in Nepal’s highest court, Rana held a power few dared to question: he was the gatekeeper of the very bench that had to hear the petitions. The whole judiciary system froze around one man’s silence, rendering the judiciary almost entirely immobilized.
Advocates like Om Prakash Aryal and Nishanta Babu Khadka, joined by Sulabh and Samrit Kharel, fought tirelessly to revive the case. Letters were sent to 19 justices. Supplementary writs flooded the court. But it was not forwarded. Acting Chief Justice Deepak Kumar Karki did not take any significant decisions during his almost year-long tenure. During the tenure of Harikrishna Karki, who succeeded Karki as Acting Chief Justice and later Chief Justice, the case surfaced just once—only to land on the “not to be seen” list. His successor, Chief Justice Bishwambhar Prasad Shrestha, scheduled just four hearings during his 14-month term but never moved to resolve the case. He did not deliver a verdict. Behind the scenes, under Rana’s leadership, the judiciary’s independence had fully collapsed into political collusion, and the court has still not recovered from that damage.
The public’s trust, already fragile due to delays in verdicts on serious constitutional cases, shattered further. Rana’s dual role—as both architect and arbiter—triggered widespread condemnation. A line in the Constitutional Bench’s eventual commentary struck a nerve: “If such conduct is accepted as the act of a non-committed judge, it would cause a serious theoretical and conceptual deviation.” In effect, the Court acknowledged what many had long alleged—Rana had become a partisan player in a game that demanded neutrality.
A petition by Advocate Dr. Ganesh Regmi briefly attempted to reinstate Rana to the bench, arguing that without the Chief Justice, the Constitutional Bench could not legally function. The Court swiftly dismissed it, affirming that no judge could preside over a case in which they held a direct stake. By then, the damage had already been done. Between Acting Chief Justices like Deepak Kumar Karki and transitional leadership under Harikrishna Karki or the 14-month period of Shrestha, the file moved but was never truly heard. It wasn’t until mounting pressure—including a registered impeachment motion—forced the Court to unseal the box that had held Nepal’s constitutional credibility hostage.
The case’s prolonged stalemate underscores deeper issues in Nepal’s political and judicial systems. It raises critical questions about the separation of powers, the role of the judiciary in safeguarding constitutional principles, and the impact of political interference on democratic processes. For the petitioners and their advocates, the delay has been particularly frustrating. They argue that the judiciary’s failure to address the case undermines its role as a guardian of constitutional integrity.
The four-year delay is not just a procedural setback—it is a test of the nation’s commitment to justice and democratic ideals. Whether the judiciary can rise to the occasion remains an open question. For now, the case lingers, a stark reminder of the complexities and challenges facing Nepal’s constitutional democracy.
A turning point for Nepal’s judiciary: what happens next?
The Supreme Court of Nepal has embarked on a high-stakes journey under Chief Justice Prakash Man Singh Raut to resolve a long-pending and contentious case concerning constitutional appointments made through an ordinance. With four years remaining in his tenure, Chief Justice Raut appears determined to restore public trust in the judiciary and cement his legacy as a fearless reformer.
This case, involving the appointment of 52 officials to constitutional bodies without parliamentary approval, has lingered unresolved through the tenures of four previous Chief Justices. Now, Raut has broken the stalemate, signaling his intent to set a precedent for judicial independence and accountability. “The judiciary needs bold decisions to regain respect,” a source close to the apex court noted. “Chief Justice Raut wants his name in the good chapter of judicial history.”
For years, the court sidestepped this politically sensitive issue. But under Raut’s leadership, the matter has been expedited, with daily Constitutional Bench hearings—a departure from the usual weekly schedule. His urgency reflects an understanding of the stakes: this case not only challenges the legitimacy of the appointments but also has far-reaching implications for the balance of power in Nepal’s constitutional framework.
Court insiders say the current Constitutional Bench, led by Chief Justice Prakash Man Singh Raut, is considering setting a new standard—not just on appointments but on what constitutes judicial disqualification. The ruling could clarify whether a Chief Justice can play a political role and still claim impartiality. There is also talk of setting a deadline for constitutional cases to prevent this kind of paralysis from repeating. A Judiciary at a Crossroads As the nation waits for a verdict on the appointments made under the Oli-Rana axis, larger questions remain unanswered.
How can the judiciary remain a neutral check on power if its top jurists share the spoils of that power? How many more cases lie dormant because justice has been entangled in silence? The legacy of JB Rana will likely be one of obstruction. But the judgment that follows may determine whether Nepal’s judiciary can re-emerge from that long silence with its credibility intact—or whether this was the moment it lost it for good.
Rana was accused not just of manipulating appointments but of undermining the very institution he led. Despite precedent demanding urgent hearings on constitutional questions, Rana refused to allow the court to move forward—a move legal analysts have described as a “judicial sabotage.” Ironically, the very appointments and ordinances Rana worked so hard to protect are now under active review by the same court he tried to paralyze. But years later, the damage is done: the judiciary’s image is in tatters, constitutional institutions are stacked with compromised leadership, and trust in due process is dangerously low. Rana rewrote the rules—not through verdicts, but through weaponizing court and procedure, inaction, manipulation, power-sharing, corruption, and self-preservation.
Nepal’s Constitution guarantees separation of powers, independent oversight, and rule of law. In practice, the 2020 ordinance exposed how fragile these principles can be when politics trumps process. The ordinance didn’t just appoint loyalists; it carved a shortcut around accountability. It showed how power can be reshaped not in grand gestures, but in legal footnotes, procedural tweaks, and late-night ordinances. The question now is not only whether these appointments were legal—but whether the Constitution itself has the strength to recover from such calculated subversion.
At the heart of the controversy lies the Constitutional Council, which, under Nepal’s constitution, is responsible for recommending appointments to constitutional bodies. The council must secure majority approval for these recommendations, followed by a parliamentary hearing. However, the appointments in question bypassed parliamentary scrutiny, relying instead on an ordinance issued during a political impasse.
As Nepal’s Supreme Court prepares to deliver its verdict on one of the most politically charged cases in recent history, the implications extend far beyond the 52 appointments at the heart of the dispute. The ruling will address foundational questions about constitutional governance, legal observers say, with consequences for the integrity of Nepal’s democratic institutions.
At issue is the legality of appointments made through an ordinance, endorsed without a fully constituted Constitutional Council, and pushed forward in the absence of parliamentary hearings. The justices must weigh whether these actions align with the spirit of Nepal’s Constitution—or undermine it.
The case also raises deeper questions about the limits of executive power. Can a caretaker prime minister, whose government has dissolved the legislature, make sweeping appointments to national bodies? And can an ordinance bypass parliamentary oversight, effectively rewriting constitutional norms?
Equally significant is the role of former Chief Justice Cholendra Shumsher JB Rana, a key figure in the appointment process. As part of the trio that enabled the appointments under an amended law, Rana’s actions are under scrutiny. Multiple sources within the judiciary told Nepal News that the bench is considering setting a precedent to delineate the role of chief justices in such power-sharing arrangements. This case may clarify whether a chief justice can co-govern by proxy, a senior court official said.
Legal experts are divided on what the ruling might entail. Some anticipate a direct rebuke of Rana’s involvement, declaring it ultra vires—beyond the lawful scope of his duties. Others suggest the Court may adopt a forward-looking approach, focusing on institutional reforms rather than retrospective condemnation.
One potential outcome is the establishment of a time-bound mechanism for resolving complex constitutional cases, particularly those involving balance-of-power issues. Such a precedent could prevent the kind of paralysis that has plagued this case for years.
“This isn’t just about cleaning up a legal mess,” a former justice told Nepal News. “It’s about restoring constitutional order and preventing future abuses of democratic processes through legal loopholes.”
The stakes are high. A decisive ruling could reaffirm the principles of checks and balances enshrined in Nepal’s 2015 Constitution, offering a much-needed course correction. But a faltering or ambiguous verdict could embolden executive overreach and deepen the judiciary’s credibility crisis. Whatever the outcome, the decision will reverberate across Kathmandu’s power corridors, shaping how laws are interpreted, appointments are made, and whether Nepal’s democracy remains tethered to its constitutional ideals—or to political expediency.
If the Supreme Court upholds these appointments, the officials will serve their six-year terms without interruption. However, many anticipate the court will invalidate them, as they were made through unconstitutional means. Such a verdict would create immediate ripples, forcing a new appointment process for 52 positions and potentially destabilizing the political status quo.
Chief Justice Raut’s role is pivotal. Beyond delivering a verdict, he must navigate the potential fallout. An invalidation of the appointments could paralyze constitutional bodies, leaving key posts vacant indefinitely, given the current political deadlock within the Constitutional Council. The council, chaired by Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli, is divided along party lines, making consensus unlikely soon without better power-sharing deal.
This gridlock raises a second possibility: a political realignment. Some speculate that invalidating the appointments might compel the ruling coalition and opposition parties to negotiate a broader agreement. Such a scenario could either stabilize the political environment or further intensify partisan divisions.
Another potential outcome is a compromise within the council itself, allowing for a division of appointments among major parties. This pragmatic approach might avert a prolonged vacuum in constitutional bodies but would further entrench political patronage.
As Chief Justice Raut pushes forward with the hearings, the nation watches closely. The court’s decision will undoubtedly shape the trajectory of Nepal’s judiciary, political landscape, and governance. Whether this marks the dawn of judicial accountability or a deeper entanglement of the judiciary with politics, one thing is clear: the stakes have never been higher for Nepal’s fragile democracy.
