
Politics, ideally the highest and most honorable form of policymaking, has been reduced to a dirty game in Nepal, driving most people away from engaging with it. We have seen leaders who do not have any industry or business transform their status overnight. Shouldn’t this be investigated? How can they be exemplary when true leadership demands setting a personal standard of integrity?
The current political landscape is steeped in opportunism rather than honest development. Ordinary citizens feel despair at the mere sight of their leaders. Corruption and personal gain dominate: politicians invoke the nation and its people only to mask self-serving agendas. Many cling to power until death, entrenching their spouses and children in the same system. Barring exceptions, their focus is securing foreign residency for their families while grooming them for leadership roles in Nepal. This rot deters the educated and principled from entering politics. Instead, the field is filled with student leaders turned party operatives, whose credentials—often dubious, bought from India or finagled in Nepal—mark the starting point of corruption. Honest, fearless, idealistic, and intellectually grounded leaders, as political science dictates, are rare. Nepal’s oversized parliament has only a handful of such figures amidst a sea of mediocrity or worse. Leaders like the Late BP Koirala stand out historically as a global intellectual giant; today’s leaders pale in comparison, defined by opportunism, extremism, irresponsibility and graft.
Nepal’s political decay extends beyond ideology. Ethnic and sectarian groups—like those pushing Madhesh, Limbuwan or Tharuhat agendas—exploit emotion over reason. Leaders seem willing to sacrifice the nation for personal gain. Such acts only deepen public disillusionment. However, this despair shouldn’t push citizens into submission or nostalgia for monarchy. We all need to understand that they the alternative to this system is not serfdom but reform.
A major culprit is the recycling of old bureaucrats into key posts. After spending decades in state machinery without meaningful results, these figures have been leveraging past favors or pilfered wealth for ambassadorships and constitutional roles. Fresh, capable talent—especially youth—is sidelined, forced to watch these entrenched elites dominate. Retired officials, judges, and justices, rather than serving as wise counsel, act as middlemen, chasing positions like the presidency or lesser perks, groveling to political bosses.
Businesses are no different. Businessmen are seen investing in political parties, hoping to avoid paying as much tax as possible. Some invest in young leaders and run companies by always showing losses. Some have even been reported to launder the ill-gotten wealth of political leaders. Such activities have only distorted Nepal’s image in the international stage. There is a tendency to hand over government-owned properties to close business associates at throwaway prices and then siphon off the profits. This situation is visible in administration, diplomacy, the army, police and the courts, which is why the younger generation appears pessimistic.
This explains why the younger generation lacks hope and increasingly flees Nepal. The administrative nightmare compounds the exodus. Returnees face bureaucratic hassles so severe that they leave again. Public services limp along with a “this is Nepal, not Europe” excuse, while ministers like Health Minister Pradeep Paudel boast of efficient hospitals that, in reality, torment patients with disjointed systems. If private hospitals can be well-managed, why can’t the government hospitals be? Essential drugs are always in short supply because they are hoarded by middlemen. This forces people to rely on convoluted imports. Why can’t all these be improved?
Neither an ordinary farmer nor a middle-class employee can afford to regularly feed eggs to their children. Why? Because some groups claimed that Nepal’s own production is sufficient and enforced import ban. Now, eggs are imported cheaply from India through small customs points and sold in Nepal at higher rates – around Rs 20 per egg. In a competitive market, the government should support farmers to boost production, but it has failed to foster a truly competitive market. And food quality? Who knows what restaurants are serving—no one seems to check. But no one bothers to monitor the quality of food or products. During festivals like Dashain and Tihar, market inspection teams are deployed in major cities. Everybody knows this is a mere formality.
Even the military, once a bastion of discipline, is mired in scandal. Irregularities and corruption plague even a sensitive and responsible institution like the military. The military was supposed to produce its boots for its personnel domestically—it even started doing so. But now, that initiative has been halted under the pretext of bringing in new machinery to favor contractors. Jackets were also being made locally. Yet, that effort was scrapped, and through middlemen’s collusion, jackets costing as low as Rs 3,000 are now bought for over Rs 7,000. Reports of helicopters being “bought” without actual purchases have surfaced from the same institution. Ther are rumors that army chiefs retire. So how can the army claim, with any credibility, to serve the nation and its people? Insiders at the military headquarters admit that officers position their wives overseas as an escape plan—quiet resignations followed by flight abroad if trouble arises. How are we to believe such a corrupt-laden army will save the country?
Nepal needs visionary statesmen, not cunning tacticians. The glut of “clever” leaders wins elections but ruins the country. Intellectual honesty is scarce; many self-proclaimed thinkers criticize the government only to sow chaos for ulterior motives. Longtime political fixtures, willing to stoop to any level for power, must exit before progress is possible. Leadership should distinguish right from wrong, not just cling to legality. The current system, while democratic in the name—allowing a citizen’s child to rise to leadership—feels hollow when despair drives calls for monarchy.
Restoring faith in the system requires streamlining governance and fixing constitutional flaws. Although the return of monarchy is not acceptable to youths, voices are growing louder, suggesting that it is better to have one king than many—a sentiment leaders are amplifying by pushing unnecessary bills, making the situation even bleaker. Why hasn’t political leadership managed to leave a lasting mark on people’s hearts? This demands introspection.
Today’s leadership has strayed from politics’ intended path, drifting further from the people. Consider Sikkim’s fate under dishonest leaders, Pakistan’s plight, Bangladesh’s recent turmoil, or Sri Lanka’s struggles—our leaders must heed these lessons. Dishonest leadership drags us back to the early 20th century when centuries-old dynasties fell: Austria’s Habsburgs, Turkey’s Ottomans, Russia’s Romanovs, Germany’s Kaisers. At home, ex-King Gyanendra’s arrogance ended his ancestral rule.
People do not trust leaders because they break promises. Saying one thing and doing another signals it is time to rethink leadership. Good leaders weigh words carefully, preserving their integrity with firm resolve. But our leaders lack that essence. Fulfilling promises defines exceptional leadership—here, we see the opposite.