KATHMANDU: In a country grappling with political fatigue and institutional inertia, a single sentence from a ruling Nepali Congress leader has triggered a wave of reflection on the state of governance in Nepal. “It’s been a month since the AIG post has remained vacant, and there’s no concern about promotion,” wrote National Planning Commission’s former Vice Chairman and Nepali Congress leader Govinda Raj Pokharel on social platform X (formerly Twitter) yesterday (Tuesday). “The governor’s office is being run by an acting official. The CIAA bill is shelved. No constitutional amendment taskforce has been formed. Despite a government backed by nearly two-thirds, and a ‘political mechanism’ team to guide it—why are decisions not being made? Perhaps the government thinks everything is just fine. Wake up!”
The critique—piercing in its simplicity—has come to symbolize a broader disillusionment with the leadership of Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli, whose fourth stint in office has been marked not by reform or decisiveness, but by stagnation and uncertainty. From within his own coalition to the opposition benches, frustration is mounting. The Oli government, despite its commanding majority in Parliament, appears paralyzed—unable or unwilling to act even as crises pile up.
The paralysis of power
At the heart of the criticism is the perception that the government has abandoned even the most basic responsibilities of governance. Several key constitutional and bureaucratic positions remain unfilled, while crucial appointments—such as the Governor of Nepal Rastra Bank—are either stuck in limbo or entangled in allegations of corruption and political wrangling.
Even the selection of a new Additional Inspector General (AIG) of Police has been delayed for weeks, stalling decision-making in one of the country’s most crucial security institutions. Acting officials continue to hold offices meant for full-time, appointed executives. The symbolism of these delays is clear: a government that either lacks the will or the cohesion to govern effectively.
‘Middlemen in the bedroom’
The dysfunction has reached such levels that even leaders within the governing alliance are beginning to sound the alarm. Nepali Congress General Secretary Gagan Thapa, who plays a prominent role in the coalition’s high-level political mechanism, launched a blistering attack on the Prime Minister, accusing him of outsourcing power to shadowy brokers and political fixers. “They have access to the Prime Minister’s bedroom,” Thapa said in a recent meeting—his metaphor capturing the extent to which unofficial middlemen are believed to influence government decisions at the highest levels.
Thapa further alleged that appointments such as the Governor of Nepal Rastra Bank are being delayed not due to ideological or policy differences between the coalition partners—CPN-UML and the Nepali Congress—but due to squabbles over financial kickbacks. “The issue is not about policy—it’s about money,” he said. The implication was damning: that the state machinery has been hijacked by interests more concerned with profiteering than public service.
Foreign policy on autopilot
As domestic governance stalls, Nepal’s foreign policy posture has become equally lackluster. Prime Minister Oli has yet to receive a formal invitation from Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi since assuming office again—a diplomatic gesture typically extended as a matter of courtesy to every new or returning Nepali head of government. The absence is more than symbolic; it is being read in Kathmandu as a clear sign of India’s skepticism toward Oli’s leadership.
Although Prime Minister Oli has had brief informal encounters with his Indian counterpart Narendra Modi at the sidelines of international forums such as the BIMSTEC summit in Bangkok and the UN General Assembly, there has been no formal bilateral visit or state-level engagement between the two leaders during Oli’s current tenure. Modi, notably, has not set foot in Nepal since Oli returned to power. The diplomatic silence points to a freeze in relations that analysts say is deliberate—New Delhi’s way of signaling its discomfort with Oli’s confrontational past and uncertain present.
Foreign policy under Oli has long been a point of contention. His previous tenure was marked by bold, sometimes abrasive moves—including the release of a new political map incorporating contested territories, and repeated assertions of Nepali sovereignty vis-à-vis India. Though these moves won him brief nationalist acclaim, they also burned bridges with New Delhi. The failure to repair them now reflects a deeper crisis of credibility.
Protest on the streets, silence in parliament
While political elites haggle behind closed doors, the streets have begun to stir. In recent weeks, schoolteachers across the country launched a series of protests demanding immediate passage of the School Education Act. Their demands, centered around job security, educational reforms, and salary structures, have found resonance among a wider population weary of delays and dysfunction.
Although the government has since called a special parliamentary session to address the teachers’ grievances, the delay has already disrupted the start of the academic year. Admissions drives have been stalled, exam papers from high school students lie unchecked, and a sense of chaos looms large over the education sector. It is yet another example of how inaction at the top cascades into crisis on the ground.
A coalition in name only
The fragility of Nepal’s governing coalition is now impossible to ignore. Though the alliance between the CPN-UML and Nepali Congress theoretically commands a near two-thirds majority, in practice, the coalition resembles a house divided. Ideological differences, personality clashes, and turf wars have made collaboration difficult, if not impossible.
Within the Nepali Congress itself, dissent is growing. Senior leader Shekhar Koirala has repeatedly voiced dissatisfaction with the government’s direction, blaming both Oli and his own party leadership for the current drift. Although Congress President Sher Bahadur Deuba remains committed to the coalition, internal opposition threatens to erode the alliance from within.
Meanwhile, former Prime Minister Pushpa Kamal Dahal ‘Prachanda’ has sensed an opportunity. Publicly maintaining a conciliatory posture toward Congress, he is simultaneously working to rejuvenate the Socialist Front—a loose alliance of opposition leftist parties—in a bid to challenge the Oli-led government from outside the formal parliamentary structure.
Internal firestorms
Oli’s troubles don’t stop with the opposition or his coalition partners. He now faces growing discontent within his own party. Former President Bidya Devi Bhandari, once a staunch ally, is rumored to be rallying UML cadres against Oli’s leadership. Sources close to Bhandari suggest she has grown disillusioned with Oli’s overly centralized style of governance and his failure to deliver on key reforms.
Second-tier leaders within the UML are also beginning to assert themselves. Some have openly criticized the government’s inaction on corruption, infrastructure delays, and the declining economy. If this dissent gains momentum, Oli could face a serious leadership challenge within his own party—a scenario that would further weaken his grip on power.
The royalist voice rises again
As democratic forces squabble and institutions falter, a familiar specter has returned: royalist revivalism. Once dismissed as a fringe sentiment, the idea of reinstating the monarchy has begun to gain traction among segments of the population disillusioned with republican governance. Street demonstrations calling for the return of a constitutional monarchy have increased in frequency and size. Social media platforms are abuzz with hashtags like #BringBackTheKing.
While the movement remains politically marginalized, its symbolic power is growing. Many of its supporters are young, urban, and frustrated by a decade and a half of instability and corruption under the federal republican system. Their disillusionment doesn’t stem from nostalgia alone—it’s a reaction to the vacuum of leadership in the current setup.
An economy on life support
Compounding the political crisis is the country’s deteriorating economic outlook. Inflation remains stubborn, industrial growth has stagnated, and investor confidence is at an all-time low. The Nepal Stock Exchange (NEPSE) has shown erratic patterns, with market volatility discouraging long-term investment. Foreign direct investment (FDI) has nearly dried up, while domestic industries continue to grapple with power shortages, regulatory confusion, and limited access to credit.
Though remittance inflows have cushioned the economic blow, they are an unsustainable crutch. Tourism, another pillar of the economy, has yet to recover fully from the pandemic-induced collapse. And with youth unemployment on the rise, the prospect of another wave of labor migration looms.
The republican project in peril
Beyond the policy failures and political infighting, what truly seems at risk is the republican project itself. The constitution of 2015, hailed as a landmark in Nepal’s democratic evolution, now looks increasingly fragile. The government has failed to form a commission to recommend necessary constitutional amendments. Key laws to operationalize federalism remain pending. Provinces complain of budgetary neglect and administrative overreach by the federal government.
The result is a governance vacuum at all levels. As political legitimacy erodes, public trust in democracy and federalism is weakening. The danger is not just that this government may fall, but that the very idea of democratic governance could lose credibility.
Wake-up call
Govinda Raj Pokharel’s rhetorical question— “perhaps the government thinks everything is fine”—has touched a nerve because it reflects what many Nepalis have begun to suspect: that the ruling elite is out of touch with the country’s growing despair. Numerical majority in Parliament has not translated into political vision or administrative competence. The Oli government is now widely seen as rudderless, reactive, and dangerously complacent.
Unless decisive action is taken, and urgently, Nepal risks descending not just into another cycle of political instability—but into a systemic crisis of legitimacy. The political class must not only govern but must also repair the foundations of a democracy that now seems increasingly brittle. The republic, born of sacrifice and struggle, cannot be allowed to fail on account of hubris, neglect, and indifference.
