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In a technology dominated global system, when the interests of one country overlap with those of others, conflict rises and crises emerge. The crises are entangled with various sectors of state affairs such as politics, technology, economy and social development. Crises emerge not only at the global level but also at the national level. In many cases, a small event can trigger painful consequences. In a democratic system, state affairs are delicate in nature as they are meticulously linked with people’s aspirations. If these aspirations are not fulfilled, disruptions escalate rapidly. Prior to the 1990s, the world was mainly divided along ideological lines—capitalism and communism, steered respectively by the USA and the then Soviet Union.

In the present day of the 21st century, situations have dramatically changed, as developed countries are locked in unhealthy geopolitical competition to increase and expand their traditional means of state power. The seen and unseen rivalry has no longer focused on strengthening their military power alone, rather they have concentrated their entire activities on economic dominance influencing and coercing others by fair means or foul. Thus, being a consequence of global interconnectivity, the polycrisis neologism has captured the present-day state affairs.

Vulnerabilities

Nepali GenZ (Nava Pusta) protests of Sept 2025 were largely based on non-political ideologies in nature. The protests were primarily rooted in structural economic grievances, antediluvian working style of established political parties and poor service delivery of the government.

A weak national economy, heavy dependence on remittances and foreign loans, ineffective governance, poor implementation of public policy and frequent changes in federal and provincial governments resulted in challenges of unemployment, inflation, corruption and a trust deficit in political parties, fueled widespread dissatisfaction among the Nava Pusta.

The collapse of the entire federal government within just two days of Nava Pusta’s protests was an unprecedented incident in the political history of Nepal. However, the destruction of government physical infrastructures, and public and private property through arson by anti-national elements (who were not genuine members of GenZ) cannot be condoned and pardoned.

The changes that took place after the Nava Pusta movement shuddered the foundations of established political parties were significant. The  international media labeled the protests as a ‘color revolution’. Whether this was truly a ‘color revolution’ or simply GenZ-led protests remains a matter of academic discourse. The former Home Minister’s statement given before the High Level Investigation Commission clearly points to direct influence of foreign elements in the peaceful GenZ protests. But the wave created by these protests has had a long-lasting tremor. The political instability in a geopolitically sensitive country has created a space for different actors who have hidden agendas to exploit Nepali soil and politics for their benefits, and is a serious threat to national security.

At this point of critical juncture, a single issue can spiral into a polycrisis. It can trigger the erosion of public trust in democratic institutions, leading to ineffective crisis response and governance paralysis. Security, in such a polycrisis situation often becomes reactive rather than strategically active. Nepal’s security needs to be active and agile to ensure that the Nepali people are competent enough to handle their internal challenges independently. The Nepali people and leadership alike must act accordingly so that no external power gains a foothold in the country’s strategic decision-making processes—directly or indirectly.

To demonstrate one’s capability to manage internal issues independently, requires the application of strong security measures backed by accurate information, use of advanced technology, coordinated strategic planning and action, and high-morale security personnel. The security organizations must have the ability to anticipate the future, not just respond to it. Experienced and highly skilled security officers are crisis managers, risk analysts, strategic communicators, and protectors of national interests and sovereignty. They are not merely the persons in uniforms rather they are the backbone of state security and stability.

Driving seat

Citizens are the first to bear the effects of polycrisis. The interwoven challenges in the  economy, society and governance can escalate into a full-blown crisis at any time that requires more vigilance in national affairs.

Sometimes, voices appear in the media alleging that the country—X has played a foul game by intervening in Nepal, provoking public agitation against the government and fueling conflict among the castes and social class. Diplomatically, it is not wise to allege Country X or Y, while ignoring the need to analyze and address domestic causes and their impact in society. Instead of pointing fingers at others, the government, political parties and concerned authorities should mend flawed policies and change outmoded mind-sets, and ensure good governance for the well-being of citizens and the nation at large.

It is natural for Country X or Y to take all necessary steps to safeguard their national interests. If they believe that by destabilizing a weaker country serves their purpose, they leave no stone unturned to fish in troubled waters. This is a routine work of  global diplomacy.

Ultimately, it is the major responsibility of Nepali political parties who hold the reins of state governance to keep their own house in order. They must foster harmonious relations within Nepali society and among common citizens, keeping in mind the age-old saying—Anekata Ma Ekata, Nepali Samaja Ko Biseshata (Unity in Diversity is the defining characteristic of Nepali Society).

Sustained economic development, a secure civil society, transparent practices, good governance, effective security organizations, and justice for all will help to keep foreign elements at bay. When the entire society upholds a value-based system rooted in patriotism and ethics no external force dares to rock the boat or destabilize the nation.

Many Nepalis have welcomed the alliance between Balen Shah and Rabi Lamichhane as a sign of hope ahead of the upcoming election. For supporters, this partnership represents a break from failed politics and a promise of economic prosperity. In a country where economic development has long dominated political speeches, such optimism is understandable. Yet history urges caution. For decades, Nepali political leaders have placed economic growth at the center of their agendas while repeatedly failing to deliver lasting results. After the political transformation of the 1990s, the Nepali Congress introduced major economic reforms that initially showed promise. 

However, these gains were undermined by corruption, internal power struggles and a deep leadership crisis. Democracy cannot function without transparency, accountability and shared ownership of leadership—principles the party ultimately failed to uphold.

The Nepal Communist Party performed no better. Instead of acting as a constructive and intellectually vibrant opposition, it focused on destabilizing the government through obstruction and political chaos. This failure of leadership and vision helped create the conditions for the Maoist insurgency, which pushed Nepal back by an entire generation in both education and economic development. The insurgency led to another historic transformation: the end of the Shah dynasty and the establishment of a federal republic. While this shift reshaped the state, it did not bring political stability or economic security. Years later, Nepal remains politically fragile, with no clear path toward sustained prosperity.

It is within this environment of frustration that Shah and Lamichhane have gained popularity. Shah presents himself as a voice of a new generation, while Lamichhane entered politics as a media-driven populist figure. Their alliance challenges traditional parties that many citizens view as corrupt and ineffective. However, rejecting the old guard is not the same as offering a viable alternative. To date, the alliance has failed to present a serious, long-term economic plan. Instead, it relies on emotional appeals, vague promises and blaming existing political institutions for Nepal’s failures. Populist energy may mobilize voters, but without concrete policies and realistic strategies, it risks repeating the same cycle of disappointment.

Nepal does not suffer from a shortage of political slogans or self-proclaimed saviors. What it lacks is leadership grounded in responsibility, institutional respect and a credible economic vision. If new political forces hope to earn lasting public trust, they must move beyond protest politics and offer solutions that are practical, inclusive and sustainable. Without this shift, today’s hope may become tomorrow’s regret.

I offer my best wishes to the new alliance and would genuinely welcome being proven wrong. Still, I remain doubtful that it can fulfill the high expectations of the Nepali people. One major concern is the lack of clarity and consistency in its economic vision. The alliance appears to hold conflicting economic ideas, leaving voters uncertain about the policies it intends to pursue. This confusion is reflected in the silence and shifting positions of key figures. For example, Swarnim Wagle, a respected political leader and economist who has long advocated a market-based economy, has recently aligned himself with populist socialist rhetoric. In today’s global system, which largely operates on capital-driven economic principles, Nepal, already a poor and fragile economy, cannot afford ideological ambiguity. Attempting to balance socialism and market economics simultaneously is like standing with one foot in each boat; it leads nowhere. Without a clear economic direction, meaningful development is unlikely.

Even more troubling is the absence of a clear political or economic agenda from Shah himself. So far, the public has heard little about his long-term policy vision. This silence is risky. Leadership without clarity creates uncertainty, inconsistency and ultimately public disappointment.

The Rabi–Balen alliance also appears to be driven largely by political elites. It has failed to meaningfully include women, Dalits, and working- or middle-class citizens in its leadership and campaign strategy. A closer look at its top figures shows that most come from privileged economic, academic and social backgrounds. Decision-making remains highly centralized, with little attention given to grassroots leadership. In a country as diverse as Nepal, shaped by geography, caste, ethnicity and religion, inclusion is not optional; it is essential. By sidelining this principle and focusing primarily on power acquisition, the alliance risks deepening existing social divisions. Even if it were to secure a majority, elite-driven populism is unlikely to deliver lasting peace or prosperity.

Another serious concern is the alliance’s apparent lack of respect for democratic institutions. While it is true that many Nepali institutions are inefficient and in need of reform, dismissing or attacking them outright is dangerous. Institutions are not merely part of the problem; they are also part of the solution. Shah has repeatedly challenged federal government agencies through confrontational rhetoric and political theatrics. As for Lamichhane, he entered politics by attacking institutions and political actors, often using polarizing narratives. When political leaders openly undermine institutions, democratic foundations weaken further. Many scholars agree that Nepal’s democracy has become fragile largely because of institutional decay, not despite it.

Despite these concerns, there remains a narrow space for cautious optimism. Critics argue that this alliance poses a serious challenge to established political parties, forcing them to reflect, reform and perform better. It has also succeeded in mobilizing young people and drawing them into political campaigns. Youth engagement, if channeled responsibly, can generate peaceful momentum for change and strengthen democratic competition.

If the alliance achieves a significant electoral victory, it may offer Nepal a valuable test case, an opportunity to evaluate new political actors while pushing traditional parties to prepare more seriously for the future. However, meaningful progress will not come from quick fixes or political shortcuts. Scholars consistently remind us that sustainable change is slow, deliberate, and institutionally grounded.

Nepal’s future depends on whether its political actors, old and new, can move beyond personal ambition and ideological confusion to build a shared vision. What the country truly needs is an ideological consensus and a long-term economic plan capable of delivering real reform. Without this, any alliance, no matter how popular, risks becoming just another chapter in Nepal’s long history of unmet promises.

The author is a PhD student in Public and International Affairs at Virginia Tech. Views are personal

Among the 10-point agreement signed by the representatives of the GenZ and the Federal Government, one of the most exciting is the creation of the GenZ Council.

Setting up such a body offers the biggest opportunity to establish a more direct, participatory and deliberative form of democracy in the country, enabling the new generations of citizens to have a direct say in how Nepal is run. But it is going to be vital to design this new body in the right way, ensuring that this will be an institution that is effective and meaningful rather than being tokenistic.

First off, let’s start with what the GenZ Council should not aspire to become. The country already has the National Youth Council that is neither particularly effective nor truly representative. To be fair, this body was never intended to become a platform to give youths a voice and amplify their demands.

Rather, it was created to promote youth empowerment through programs and initiatives. This is why the GenZ Council should demark and distinguish itself and should resemble a chamber or assembly, a permanent forum for discussions and deliberations by the youths and for the youths of the nation.

Therefore, it would be much more appropriate to design it as a “GenZ Assembly”, an institution that cannot only complement but also strengthen the current parliamentary system in place. Ideally, this new body should embrace key principles of deliberative democracy where citizens rather than just those elected have a real say.

For this reason, the GenZ Council should free itself from the cumbersome burden of elective politics. As we do know, liberal democracy based on elections has a lot of problematic issues and must be supported by more direct forms of deliberative mechanisms. Consequently, it is also important that the new GenZ Council shuns party politics. Its members would be individual youths acting and importantly, deliberating on their own, without any political affiliation.

But what does the word “deliberation” mean in the context of GenZ Council? To start with, we are not talking about binding deliberations. Deliberations can be seen as detailed propositions that, following a rigorous process of debate based on expertise and knowledge, would be voted by the members of the council. Ensuring that voting will only happen after a clear process of logical discussions is paramount.

How could this work in practice? Let’s take as an example, a possible deliberative process around the pros and cons of lowering the minimum marriageable age. Each member of the GenZ Council would have the right to table a motion, in practice, a policy idea, that, in a follow up step, would be analyzed and discussed mandatorily. In our example, a member would propose a change in the current law related to the minimum marriageable age. 

Similar and connected motions could be clubbed together in a holistic fashion and discussed. After these first two initial phases, submission of a motion and its initial discussion, a first round of voting would occur where the members would decide to bring this motion forward.

What does it mean?

If a motion is voted to be brought forward, it will be further discussed, elaborated and deliberated in the form of a proposition, basically a proposal that at the very end will be finally voted by all the members. In this final stage of the deliberative process, members of the GenZ Council will have to vote if, to them, it makes sense or not to lower the minimum marriageable age.

Finally, a proposition that is voted favorably will be submitted to the federal government in the form of a recommendation that would have to either accept or reject it. The federal government would commit to officially respond in written form and also officially to each of the recommendations sent by the GenZ Council in the House of Representative, the lower chamber of the Parliament. The Federal Government should also include mandatorily explaining why some of these might have been rejected.

In future, the propositions voted by the GenZ Council could be made even mandatory but this would require more time for the country to fully understand and welcome deliberative democracy practices, basically accepting the idea of a new form of more participatory decision making.

In the immediate, the GenZ Council could also have the authority of providing feedback to each bill being formulated by the legislative. A key aspect would be how to ensure a fully representative and inclusive representation of the youths in the Council. In the field of deliberation, sortition (lottery) is a key aspect.

At first instance, it might appear as something bizarre and strange but around the world, it is how deliberative democracy happens also by taking advantage of software programs designed for the purpose. A pragmatic approach could be used to establish the Council for the first time, one that will not entirely rely on sortition. The Federal Government would nominate 25 percent of its members based on certain criteria. We can imagine this as a sort of quota that would ensure the participation of the current leaders of the GenZ movement where all major groups are included. Ideally, each Provincial Government or Assembly could also appoint a quota but this is tricky and would make things complicated also because of network/patronage related issues.

Then what about the remaining 75 percent seats? They should be allocated in an open and transparent way. As daunting as it might sound, all youths could apply but how to do so? One option would be to use sortition for all these remaining 75 percent of the seats. A second option would see that 25 percent of these seats be decided on  merits based while the other 50 percent remaining seats would be allocated through lottery.

In short, this system would imply that everyone that applies to be in the Council would stand a chance of being part of it. It will be certainly paramount that a quota system with a proportional representation of disadvantaged groups will also be guaranteed. Another key question is how long should its members remain in the council? A balance between not too short and not too long tenure must be struck. Members of the council should stay in power for one year or 18 months and they would not again be eligible to be part of the council in future.

A two-year cycle could also be envisioned but it is going to be essential to ensure that “space” for participation” opens up recurrently otherwise we would be at risk of institutionalizing a new elite of youths. What about the complex logistics of the meeting?

There could be at least three meetings in person and then have mandatory periodic online sessions where every citizen could assist and watch and possibly, have the opportunity of providing also some suggestions for the members. This aspect is important because it would enable other youths to feel connected and have a role. Participating in the Council should be a voluntary undertaking even if it is a time-consuming one.

At the most, a very basic monthly allowance (a sort of reimbursement) for its members could be entertained plus the transportation and lodging costs for those coming from outside the Kathmandu Valley for its in person sessions. The GenZ Council, if designed and implemented right away, can be a transformative democratic tool that could inspire better, more inclusive forms of decision-making.

A revised constitution could make it a constitutional body even without going to the extent of granting it with binding decision powers that the legislative and executive powers will have to respect. As the time is running short, the first iteration of the GenZ Council will be far from being perfect also because its design could be made through a more open process. Yet what at the end will count is that at least this new body that is being shaped could emanate hope that youths of this country can have a truly meaningful role in the way decisions are taken.

As 2025 comes to an end and 2026 begins, the distance between what is possible and what is practiced feels both close and painfully far. The past year has taught us lessons not through speeches or strategy documents, but through lived realities.

If one force clearly shaped 2025, it was Nepal’s GenZ. Across campuses, streets, and digital platforms, young people questioned corruption, exclusion, climate inaction, and the widening gap between political promises and daily life. Their expressions were not always polished, but they were deeply sincere. Unlike earlier movements, this generation did not organize only through political parties. They mobilized through social media, art, satire, frustration, and shared hope. They were not rejecting the nation they were refusing to inherit broken systems.

What stood out was not just protest, but clarity. Young people were asking for dignity, participation, and fairness. As we step into 2026, the real question is no longer whether young people are ready for leadership, but whether our institutions are ready to listen and adapt.

For decades, development in Nepal has leaned heavily on foreign assistance. In 2025, that reliance began to feel increasingly fragile. Global political shifts particularly renewed foreign aid cuts from the United States under the Trump administration sent shockwaves across development sectors worldwide. In Nepal, projects slowed, priorities shifted, and civil society organizations faced sudden uncertainty. Decisions made thousands of kilometers away affected health programs, governance initiatives, and social services at home.

The lesson from 2025 is not that foreign aid has no role. It remains important. But it can no longer be the backbone of development. Aid volatility exposed the urgent need for domestic resource mobilization, stronger public institutions, and political accountability. As we move into 2026, development must be treated less as external support and more as a national responsibility rooted in public trust.

In 2025, Nepal signaled its ambition to modernize governance through technology. The government established a National Artificial Intelligence (AI) Center to ease the work of both public and private sectors through digital systems. On paper, this represents progress, efficiency, and readiness for the future. Yet alongside this ambition, important questions emerged. Who benefits from these digital systems? Who is left behind?

While digital platforms expanded access for some, many others persons with disabilities, rural populations, older citizens, and those without reliable internet continued to struggle. Technology, the year reminded us, is not neutral. It reflects choices about whose needs are prioritized. As Nepal accelerates digital transformation in 2026, accessibility, ethical use of AI, and inclusive design must be embedded from the start. Otherwise, innovation risks deepening inequalities rather than reducing them.

When resources shrink, inclusion is often the first to be treated as optional. In 2025, as funding tightened and political attention shifted, people with disabilities, women, and marginalized communities once again had to fight to remain visible. Yet across the country, organizations of persons with disabilities, parents’ groups, and community advocates continued their work often quietly, often underfunded. Their message remained firm: inclusion is not charity. Accessibility is not generosity. Both are right.

The lesson is clear. Inclusion cannot depend on favorable conditions. As we move into 2026, accessibility must be built into public transport, education, digital services, and local governance by design not added later as an afterthought.

In 2025, climate change stopped being abstract. Floods, landslides, heatwaves, and water shortages became routine realities. For many communities, adaptation was no longer about planning, it was about survival. Local governments were often the first responders, yet many lacked adequate authority, resources, and technical capacity. Climate change revealed not only environmental vulnerability, but governance gaps.

The lesson for 2026 is demanding but unavoidable: climate action must be locally led, inclusive, and adequately funded. Policies discussed in Kathmandu or global forums must translate into protection where people actually live.

Another defining reality of 2025 was migration. Remittances continued to sustain households, even as migrant workers faced uncertainty abroad and limited protection at home. Behind economic statistics are human stories of parents aging alone, children growing up without caregivers, and returnees struggling to reintegrate.

Development in 2026 must treat migration not only as an economic strategy, but as a social reality that demands dignity, protection, and reintegration pathways.

Walking into 2026 with purpose

As I think back to that December morning on my terrace in Bhaktapur, the dream I had does not feel unrealistic. It feels only unfinished. Nepal does not need louder slogans or thicker policy documents in 2026. It needs quieter courage listening to lived experiences, reforming institutions, and placing dignity at the center of development. The lessons of 2025 are simple but demanding: choose people over convenience, inclusion over shortcuts, and long-term trust over short-term gain.

As Nepal steps into 2026, this reflection coincides with a significant political moment. Early general elections are expected to be held in March 2026 to elect the members of the House of Representatives. Elections are often framed as moments of competition but they are also moments of choice. The real question is not only who will govern next, but how they will govern. Whether the lessons of 2025 on youth participation, inclusion, climate responsibility, ethical digitalization, and dignity will shape political priorities, or once again be postponed in the noise of short-term promises.

For many young people and marginalized communities, 2026 is not just another election year. It is a test of whether our democracy can respond to lived realities with honesty and courage. If development is to mean anything in the years ahead, it must be rooted in accountability, inclusion, and trust values that no election should ignore. If 2026 becomes the year we begin closing the gap between imagination and reality, then that winter-morning dream on a Bhaktapur terrace may no longer feel like a dream at all.