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The appeal for a directly elected president is easily comprehensible. It is an intuitively appealing and credible notion that people deserve to directly elect their leader in a democratic process. And in principle, that is something I agree with. 

As I’m contemplating my next paragraphs of this article, I’m acutely aware that the burden to prove that people should not get to directly vote their leader rests with people advocating against the directly elected executive, rather than the other side having the obligation to prove its merits. Likewise, as a member of GenZ myself, I share the discontent with the never-ending cast of unstable governments that my generation and the generation before me have. I am mindful of our current and past political predicaments rife with instability and governments riven by inter- and intra-party disputes. Potential stability this could bring does have people dreaming of a uniform government and policies that would bring much-needed investment, jobs, and prosperity.

Well, as always, the devil is in the details and an annoying thing called practical reality.

First, on a principal level. Imagine a powerful executive, say that of the US. The president has the power to veto bills and sign them, sign executive orders, call the shots during a war, grant pardons, and so on. It follows logically that the burden of proof also lies to a great extent on concentrating so much power on one individual. People with competence and integrity do not always get to the top, and even if such people are on top, it doesn’t mean they are demi-gods who can make perfect decisions all the time. So why should the whims of individuals decide matters of great importance? Remember Trump’s handling of Covid-19 in the first term or his stepping on every conceivable democratic norm in the current term? If Trump seems like an extreme and anomalous example, note that President Biden, before him, freshly into the office, branded with the “nice guy who is set to defend democracy” image, unilaterally decided to send bombing planes to Syria. 

Of course, this is not to claim that the parliamentary system is a paragon of rationality and accountability, but the fact that discourse has to happen publicly in Parliaments, under the public’s watchful eyes, creates incentives to take more integrity-laced decisions. It is likely that if there had been a publicly visible discussion about, say, the Biden administration’s bombing targets in Syria. i.e., a decision to drop expensive bombs, with ultra-expensive planes, to destroy priceless innocent lives, decisions would be different. The public has the right to scrutinize as many decisions and policy discussions as possible, to the extent that they want. Also, the process of discourse itself is likely to result in better chances of yielding more rational decisions. 

In many cases, these executives are voted in by narrow margins. So, in a country where a President gains 51 percent of votes to get elected, the 49% gets no representation in the share of executive power. While in the parliamentary system, minority parties can form coalition governments and gain some ministries, they are shut down completely from the executive system, especially under something like the spoils system in the US. This is likely to disproportionately harm minority groups, who have a lesser chance of having a member of their group being elected as the national figurehead. 

Similarly, this concentration of executive power poses a direct threat to democracy if the executive has immense influence and is seeking to break free from the reins of democracy. This has been vividly visible in countries like Russia, Turkey, Hungary, the USA, etc, which have suffered democratic backsliding. Likewise, in Nepal, where it will take a while for democratic gains to get cemented, there was a de facto concentration of executive power when the interests of former President Bidhya Bhandari and former Prime Minister KP Oli were aligned. Two Supreme Court decisions saved our infantile democratic practice, but the flashing danger lights were for everyone to see. Well, after coming to power again, the naked authoritarian tendencies of Oli were visible again in gunning down protesters and littering the streets with blood. The factors that led to Oli deciding to resign were likely multifaceted. But being in a coalition government, where Congress and other coalition partners were facing tremendous pressure to resign, must have played a part in Oli’s calculus that further repression would not be possible without these coalition partners buckling under pressure. So, the fact that he needed the support of members of parliamentary members of his own party, who, despite mostly being supine to Oli, must have been worrying about their own political futures after the brutal repression of the protests caused the public support for their party to nosedive. 

Of course, I hear the chorus saying that Oli wouldn’t have been elected if we had a directly elected executive. Probably, but the problem goes beyond Oli as an individual, as there have been countless examples of initially popular leaders going on to reveal and develop authoritarian tendencies. The very definition of dictatorship is the concentration of power without checks and balances. So, of course, reducing the supervision of checks and balances, which is primarily a legislative function (it not only elects or controls the executive branch but confirms judiciary appointments in most democracies), can be the bedrock of budding authoritarianism. A strong parliament, in control of the executive branch, acts as a bulwark to such despotism as power in this most powerful body is divided among hundreds of MPs. Again, this isn’t to imply that democratic backsliding isn’t possible in a parliamentary process, but rather, more difficult to do so due to this dissemination of power. 

The other important consideration would be the impact on the election process itself. The character, quirks, personal beliefs, and relationships of the Presidential candidates fill large chunks of political columns that ideally should be filled with policy discussions. This prevails in the parliamentary system too, but becomes more prominent during candidate-centric elections rather than party-centric elections. During candidate-focused elections, qualities that gain preponderance are charisma and oratory skills; qualities that people wrongly value in political leaders. 

Likewise, this is likely to foster racism and battering of minorities more. In all political systems, an effective way to gain a devoted following is by appealing to and fostering prejudices. Sadly, thanks to a physiological phenomenon called negativity bias (things of a more negative nature have a greater effect on one’s psychological state and processes than positive things), people are attuned to respond with greater emotional intensity to things like fears, prejudice, anger, etc. This means that by arousing or responding to people’s prevailing feelings of particular groups, usually minorities, power-hungry rulers can garner a devoted following. This is a tremendously common phenomenon: Trump’s appeal to fears of a shrinking white majority, Modi’s incitement of fear against Muslims, and the Burmese military’s demonizing and cleansing Rohingya by portraying them as perpetrators of all evil are among the countless examples of this. The sheer effectiveness of this means it has been used by rulers and wannabe rulers of all shades and systems. However, there is an added incentive to use this heinous tactic for directly electable presidential candidates. While political parties have an incentive to garner the broadest possible constituency to garner a larger number of seats, presidential candidates can effectively get away with winning at best 51 percent of the votes. This is the reason why Trump eagerly chose to ride the tide of white nativist fears, despite alienating a broader sector of minorities. Colored people weren’t his targeted constituents. 

Spare a thought about how this could potentially play out in an ethnically diverse country like Nepal with low education and literacy rates. In a country where our brothers in Tarai have been portrayed by the ruling elites for centuries as “Indians” and “dhotis” and have these notions firmly hammered in the sentiments of the general public. Where prejudice and stereotypes exist regarding various ethnicities and castes. Where reactionary voices used the incident of a Dalit woman not getting rent as a platform to question affirmative action. Where wide-ranging frustration, unemployment, poverty, patriarchy, and deeply rooted social injustices prevail, leaving a fertile ground for a wannabe charismatic dictator. 

So what would be a solution then? Surely, after the GenZ movement, the general populace is in no mood to digest another musical chair of endless government change, revolving around a few party heads?

There could be solutions that have been tried before, with a few innovations added from our side. We could have something similar to the Swiss model, where a group of seven leaders is elected as co-presidents or members of the federal council. Their majority decision, four or more out of seven, could be considered as a decision from the executive.  If a nominal head of state is needed, these seven co-presidents would take turns being so, with each member being a head for the duration of their total mandate divided by seven. We could add further tweaks to this by mandating proportional representation from marginalized groups and gender in this council of co-presidents. 

If we absolutely want one directly elected head of state, assuming that constitutional change could be made,  their powers could still be tempered by having a directly elected executive prime minister, with the president, elected by the parliament, still remaining the nominal head of state. In those cases, power for strong measures like declaring an emergency and dissolving the parliament(insofar as permitted by the conditions described by the constitution) would require the approval of both,  and in such situations, the authority of the president could be extended to make an active judgment, beyond rubber-stamping decisions. 

But even in the situation where we end up with a single directly elected executive, we should be cognizant of its potential consequences and must have our systems of checks and balances fortified. Provisions like the directly elected executive not having the power to dissolve the parliament, needing to defer to the parliament for major actions like declaring emergencies or mobilizing the military, are a must. There are strict provisions of control of the purse by the parliament, as well as requirements for approval of both chambers of parliament for appointments across the judiciary and other governmental agencies like CIAA, NRB, etc. This is not an exhaustive list by any means, but an attempt to nudge the conversation towards this direction, instead of potentially sleepwalking towards it. 

So, given that concentration of power is a tremendous risk, more so in a fragile democracy, how and to what extent we should be disseminating democratic power to prevent this has been and is likely to be a pressing issue for quite a long time. While we are on this matter, it should be remembered that expanding democracy should go way beyond electing a head of state, and even elections themselves. Yes, we should absolutely advocate for more direct democracy, more referendums on federal levels, and more participatory democracy, as well as referendums on local levels. Even more than that, we should be having conversations about truly disseminating economic and political clout by giving workers more power over their workplaces and the generated revenue, and by giving communities control over their local resources. The most important check on concentrated power would likely be a citizenry equipped with its own economic power, platforms, resources, and economic as well as political incentives to engage politically. How, if, and when it would be possible would be a different debate, beyond the scope of this article. But what I do seek to implore through this article is to orient our conversations in that direction, instead of, or at least a lot more than, conversing about characters and peculiarities of political parties and their leaders.

The author graduated from Fudan University with a master’s degree in World Economy

Two back-to-back post-monsoon cyclonic rain spells temporarily cleaned Nepal’s air, keeping pollution levels within the healthy range with AQI remaining around 50 for nearly a month—a rare occurrence in a non-monsoon season in the past decade. But with no rainfall expected soon, air quality is once again deteriorating. The persistent La Niña pattern is projected to bring another dry winter in the entire sub-continent, similar to past where 75 percent rainfall decline was observed. These prolonged dry conditions not only allow pollution to accumulate but also heighten the risk of forest fires in late winter and spring that again lead to cascading impacts of pollution. Combined with the influx of transboundary polluted air carried by the westerlies, this pushes air quality to dangerously hazardous levels.

Now, as the clear blue skies and stunning Himalayan views fade—moments cherished by many nature lovers—the seasonal pall of haze will once again settle over the Kathmandu Valley and many other parts of Nepal. More than just a public health crisis, this creeping suffocation is a stark, daily reminder of deep systemic policy failures. Additionally, the Ethiopian volcanic eruption on Nov 23 is feared to deteriorate the air quality of Western Nepal, which may ultimately float to Kathmandu and elsewhere as volcanic ashes have been found in the atmosphere in New Delhi and Uttar Pradesh. 

Nepal consistently ranks among Asia's most polluted nations, with national air pollution levels cutting average life expectancy by approximately 4.6 years according to the Air Quality Life Index. This crisis is particularly concentrated in the capital, where Kathmandu's annual average PM2.5 concentration reached 51.9 μg/m³ in 2023—over ten times the WHO's safe guideline and earning it the position of the 10th most polluted capital city globally. While the recent World Bank ‘Breathing Heavy’ report confirming air pollution as Nepal's leading killer has rightfully caused alarm, the institutional response remains fragmented and lethargic. The science is unequivocal, the economic cost—a staggering 3.5 percent of GDP annually, or over $400m lost each year—is crippling, and the human toll is immense, with over 42,000 premature deaths annually nationwide, worsening the health and shortening the Nepali’s life. Yet, decisive action is hamstrung by jurisdictional ambiguities, chronically weak enforcement, and a critical blind spot in addressing the polluted air that blows across our open borders. The question is no longer about diagnosing the illness, but about treating the paralysis in our governance.

A siloed battle against a unified threat

The primary failure lies in the lack of a unified, empowered command structure. Currently, the responsibility for clean air is scattered across a mosaic of entities with overlapping mandates and insufficient accountability. The Ministry of Forests and Environment (MoFE) sets broad goals, the Department of Environment (DoE) is tasked with monitoring and regulation but lacks adequate human resources for widespread enforcement, the Ministry of Physical Infrastructure and Transport (MoPIT) manages a vehicle fleet it did not design, and local municipalities, chronically under-resourced, handle the Herculean tasks of waste management and construction dust control.

This siloed approach is a recipe for inaction and blame-shifting. For instance, the DoE may set emission standards for brick kilns, but without robust enforcement capacity and direct coordination with local governments, outdated, polluting Fixed Chimney Bull’s Trench Kilns continue to operate with impunity. The National Ambient Air Quality Standards (2012) exist, but they are severely outdated, with PM2.5 limits nearly four times more lenient than the current WHO guidelines, and are not legally enforceable in a way that holds specific agencies accountable for achieving them.

The solution is not another committee, but a powerful, dedicated entity required to ensure the healthy air for all. The urgent need is for a Valley-specific, Integrated Clean Air Authority (ICAA), established through an Act of Parliament. This body must be chaired at the highest level of government and include representation from all key ministries, mayors of the three metropolitan cities and technical experts. Its mandate should be clear: to create and, crucially, to implement a legally binding Clean Air Action Plan with specific, time-bound emission reduction targets, which ensures the country’s constitutional arrangements into action in every sector. The ICAA must have the power to direct line ministries, allocate specific budgets for clean air initiatives and hold underperforming agencies publicly accountable. It would be the single point of failure—or success—for the valley’s air quality.

The transboundary blind spot

A critical and often politicized gap in our national strategy is the formal acknowledgment and quantification of transboundary pollution. Research from the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD) and others consistently shows that during the winter and pre-monsoon seasons, external sources can contribute between 30 percent to 50 percent of Kathmandu’s particulate pollution. This pollution originates from beyond our borders, primarily from the dense cluster of coal-fired power plants, heavy industries, and widespread post-harvest agricultural burning in the Indo-Gangetic Plain.

However, our official discourse often uses this as an excuse for inaction on local sources, rather than as a catalyst for a sophisticated, two-pronged strategy. The Department of Environment's growing network of real-time air quality monitors is robust enough to detect these pollution inflows, but we lack the formalized data-sharing agreements and joint source-apportionment studies with India that are necessary to move from anecdotal evidence to irrefutable diplomatic fact. The current state of affairs, where we monitor the problem but lack the mechanisms to address its external causes, is an exercise in futility.

The Ministry of Foreign Affairs (MoFA) must be formally integrated into the national clean air agenda. Air pollution must be elevated from an environmental concern to a critical, non-negotiable item in bilateral and regional talks, particularly within the frameworks of the South Asian Association for Regional Cooperation (SAARC) and direct Nepal-India dialogues. The goal should be to establish a formal Joint Commission on Transboundary Air Pollution. This commission’s work would include:

Real-time data exchange: Creating a shared platform for air quality and meteorological data.

Coordinated source apportionment: Conducting joint scientific studies to definitively quantify source contributions from both sides of the border.

Early warning systems: Developing alerts for cross-border pollution events, such as large-scale agricultural burning or industrial emissions.

Coordinated policy: Aligning policies on seasonal burning and promoting shared standards for industrial emissions and vehicle fuels across the region.

Loss and damage: Securing justice

The significant contribution of transboundary pollution to our national burden introduces a pivotal and underutilized concept in climate and environmental justice: Loss and Damage. This principle, now operationalized through a dedicated fund at the UN level, acknowledges that polluters should bear the costs of the harm they cause to others. When a substantial portion of our health burden, economic losses and environmental degradation is driven by cross-border emissions, the question of compensation and support becomes not just rhetorical, but a matter of national interest and justice.

Nepal’s diplomatic and environmental corps must pivot from a passive to an active stance. We must task our research institutions, the National Planning Commission (NPC) and the Ministry of Health, with meticulously documenting the health and economic impacts directly attributable to transboundary pollution spikes. This involves sophisticated epidemiological studies that link hospital admission rates for asthma and cardiovascular diseases to specific cross-border haze events, and economic modeling that quantifies the lost tourism revenue and agricultural yields.

This robust, evidence-based national dossier must then be used to actively engage in global forums, such as the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC), to advocate for the operationalization of Loss and Damage funding arrangements to address harms caused by transboundary anthropogenic pollution. This is not about fostering conflict, but about applying established principles of justice to secure the financial resources needed to build national resilience. These funds could be directly allocated to:

- Strengthen our public health system to treat pollution-related illnesses.

- Install air filtration systems in every school and hospital in the valley.

- Subsidize the transition to Zig-Zag technology for brick kilns and clean energy for SMEs.

- Invest in a modern, zero-emission public transit system.

From inaction to action

The way forward requires moving from plans to legally-mandated, adequately-funded actions:

Legislate and empower: The federal government must pass a Comprehensive Clean Air Act within the next parliamentary session. This Act should formally establish the Integrated Clean Air Authority, mandate the adoption of WHO-aligned air quality standards and provide the DoE and other agencies with true enforcement power, including meaningful, deterrent-level financial penalties for non-compliance.

Diplomatize the issue: The Ministry of Foreign Affairs, in close consultation with MoFE, must launch a formal, high-level diplomatic initiative with India within the next year to establish the joint commission on transboundary air pollution. The first step could be a bilateral technical workshop, leading to a memorandum of understanding.

Quantify, claim and invest: The NPC, within two years, must complete and publish a national assessment on the economic loss and damage from transboundary air pollution. Concurrently, the MoFE must develop a pipeline of bankable projects focused on air quality improvement, ready to be funded by both domestic budgets and international climate finance, including the Loss and Damage Fund.

The haze over Kathmandu is a veil obscuring not just our mountains, but our political will and institutional courage. We have the data, we understand the sources and we know the devastating cost. The gaps are no longer in knowledge, but in governance, diplomacy and accountability. 

By empowering a single authority with a clear mandate, making transboundary pollution a non-negotiable core of our foreign policy and championing the principle of loss and damage with evidence and resolve, we can finally clear the air. The health of millions, the vitality of our economy and the integrity of our shared environment depend on this decisive break from the paralysis of the past.

Upadhyay is environment and atmospheric science expert, Uprety is climate and disaster risk reduction expert

Natural ecosystems play a vital role, even if we often take them for granted. We continue to exploit them without realizing that the consequences will eventually come due. As a highly climate-vulnerable country, Nepal should pay particular attention to its natural habitats. Those who dedicate themselves to protecting and safeguarding these ecosystems deserve deep respect, for their work is often dangerous and their lives can be at risk. Political institutions at all levels—from local governments to the federal state—carry clear responsibilities that cannot be avoided or ignored. The state must do everything in its power to protect natural ecosystems and ensure that no infrastructure project or industrial undertaking is allowed to violate or destroy them.

Procedures enshrined in the constitution and laws must be followed to the letter. At the same time, the state and its elected representatives have a duty to ensure the safety of citizens who stand at the frontlines of the fight against environmental degradation.

This is not what happened on the night of 10 January 2020, when an unsung hero, someone who deeply valued the rule of law and the sacrosanct environmental rights codified in Nepal’s legislation, was brutally murdered.

Dilip Mahato was a young, promising engineering graduate who had just completed his final semester in India. Back home with his family in Dhanusa’s Mithila Municipality, he remained active in environmental work. Without hesitation, he left home in the middle of the night to stop illegal sand extraction from the local Aurahi River.

For his courage, Mahato paid the ultimate price. Not only was he killed, but his family’s entire existence changed for the worse, beginning an odyssey that continues to this day. He tried to stop an illegal activity that, tragically, remains widespread across Madhes and the broader Tarai.

The perpetrators and masterminds behind the assassination were arrested and brought to trial. Yet the process has been marked by several unfortunate twists, and the current status of the case is unclear. No news outlet has recently covered the issue, and this silence is deeply troubling.

At the end of last year, I wrote an opinion piece urging that commemorative actions be taken to honor Mahato and celebrate his life. Among other proposals, I suggested establishing an award in his name for national and local environmental human rights defenders.

This year, I attempted to advance this idea, but I failed. I hoped to collaborate with promising local youths active in environmental work. While our discussions were warm and encouraging, nothing concrete materialized. The September uprising further derailed momentum, and my attempt to build a small “coalition of the willing” gradually lost focus. I regret losing the moment when I could have pushed a bit harder and been bolder, even though the initiative was never meant to be about me; my goal was for locals to lead the process.

As I write this column, the anniversary of Mahato’s death approaches once again. I had nearly given up on doing something meaningful to commemorate him, but the truth is that it is never too late. We still have enough time, even at a modest level, to act. Mahato’s sacrifice deserves a national award in his name. The federal government should take the lead, ideally in partnership with the Madhes provincial government, and work with civil society and the legal community.

Nepal has several prominent lawyers deeply engaged in protecting environmental human rights. Deepak Adhikari, the journalist behind Nepal Check, recently wrote an insightful piece for Mongabay profiling some of these legal trailblazers, including Prakash Mani Sharma Bhusal, whom he described as a pioneer in advancing environmental law in Nepal. Other distinguished lawyers include Dilraj Khanal, who along with Senior Advocate Bhusal successfully fought back a law permitting infrastructure projects in protected areas in 2024. The article also highlighted senior advocate Padam Bahadur Shrestha, who has represented Mahato’s family.

With advocates of this caliber, it is not impossible to imagine a civil-society–led “Dilip Mahato National Award for Environmental Human Rights Defenders.” With imagination and goodwill, such an initiative could even become an internationally recognized distinction honoring defenders from Nepal and the broader Asia-Pacific region. I acknowledge that these proposals may seem ambitious, even grand. But we can always start small, with a simple commemoration to honor Mahato.

Law campuses across the country could host seminars on environmental human rights and the broader field of business and human rights. What matters is doing something—anything—in Mahato’s name. Even a modest action involving his family would mark a meaningful beginning.

As Nepal strives to build a prosperous, sustainable, and equitable economy, it has a chance to lead in promoting environmental human rights. This field of law is neither financially lucrative nor safe; the risks for those who practice it are real. Recognizing Mahato’s sacrifice, and sharing the stories of other unsung heroes who continue to defend their fragile local ecosystems, could become a defining moment in Nepal’s recent history, and a step toward the just, resilient future the country aspires to build.

The Communist Party of Nepal (Unified Marxist-Leninist) is preparing to hold its general convention on Dec 13–15 to elect a new leadership. The CPN-UML’s  internal dynamics are especially tense this year, as incumbent Chairperson KP Sharma Oli, who has been politically shaken by the recent GenZ movement, is seeking a third consecutive term. Though Oli had signaled before Sept 8–9 protests that he would lead the party for another five years, the large-scale demonstrations and the killing of 19 youths has severely dented his standing both inside and outside the party.

A number of senior UML leaders have urged Oli to retire from the party chairmanship, arguing that he should take moral responsibility for the deaths that occurred under his premiership. Yet, Oli remains defiant. He insists that he was removed from government not because of his governance failures, but because of his uncompromising “nationalist stance.” This claim once again reveals a familiar pattern: Oli’s consistent use of nationalism as a political tool to consolidate his power, deflect criticism and project himself as a defender of Nepal’s sovereignty. Inside the communist party, there is a tendency to create real, perceived or even fabricated enemies in order to convince cadres that they should focus on fighting these threats rather than questioning or changing the leadership. This is exactly what KP Oli is doing right now.

Oli’s nationalism card

‘Nationalism’ has long been a potent currency in Nepali politics, especially within communist parties, which frequently frame internal dissent as externally manipulated. After joining mainstream politics, it was Maoist Chairperson Pushpa Kamal Dahal successfully weaponized ‘nationalism.’ When challenged by senior leader Baburam Bhattarai, Dahal often accused him of being influenced by foreign actors, particularly India. After losing power in 2008, Dahal blamed India for orchestrating his downfall and launched a political campaign centered on “national independence.” This narrative helped him maintain his grip on the Maoist party at a time when his leadership was under pressure.

Oli has followed a similar path since coming to power after 2015. He rose to national prominence during the 2015 Indian blockade, portraying himself as a staunch nationalist resisting external interference. His government’s issuance of a new political map of Nepal in 2020 further cemented his image as a leader willing to challenge powerful neighbors.

Internal challenge

For this year’s General Convention, Oli faces a more organized challenger than in previous conventions. His deputy, Ishwar Pokhrel, backed strongly by former President Bidya Devi Bhandari, has announced his candidacy for party chairman. Pokhrel’s camp is significantly stronger than in the 2021 convention, making him the first genuinely competitive candidate against Oli in years. Predictably, Oli’s supporters have begun portraying Pokhrel’s challenge as influenced by external forces. Such accusations are not new: within Nepal’s communist parties, labeling rivals as “foreign agents” is practically a political tradition.  A Facebook post by Shankar Pokhrel on Nov 29, for example, stated: “The country is in crisis, and attacks on nationalist forces continue. In such a situation, firmness in policy and unity in leadership are essential. Let’s move forward—it is possible.”The subtext of the statement is clear: in the name of national unity, Ishwar Pokhrel should withdraw and support Oli. This framing aligns perfectly with the longstanding internal communist practice of marginalizing opponents by presenting them as threats to national interests.

GenZ protests and ‘foreign ploy’

The GenZ protests shook Nepal’s political establishment as thousands of young took to the streets against corruption, unemployment and political stagnation. Instead of acknowledging the domestic roots of the unrest, Oli and his loyalists characterized the protests as foreign-orchestrated, drawing parallels with color revolutions in Eastern Europe and Central Asia. Oli has repeatedly argued that his government was targeted by foreign powers because of his policies in favor of nationalism, such as signing the BRI with China. This narrative implies that the protests were an attempt on the part of Western powers ‘to punish him and destabilize the UML.’

Oli’s belief that the GenZ uprising was externally orchestrated rests mostly on rumors and unverified reports. Most Nepalis view the movement as a spontaneous expression of frustration with political instability, chronic corruption and the failure of leaders to deliver meaningful reforms. The attempt to reduce a youth-led domestic uprising to foreign interference seems increasingly detached from public sentiment.

Social media ban and nationalism

One of the major triggers of the GenZ movement was the Oli government’s decision to ban several social media platforms for not registering in Nepal. Oli attempted to justify the move by claiming that these platforms violated Nepal’s sovereignty and refused to comply with national laws. This explanation, framed once again through the lens of nationalism, did little to placate widespread anger. 

Oli’s public defense of controversial businessman Durga Prasai, arrested for inflammatory remarks, further underscored his reliance on the nationalism narrative. Prasai had released a video claiming that Western-funded NGOs were behind the GenZ protests, echoing Oli’s larger narrative of foreign interference. By siding with Prasai, Oli signaled once again that he sees political advantage in promoting the idea of a foreign conspiracy.

Will ‘nationalism’ work again?

UML leaders often boast that their party alone does not compromise on matters of national interest. In previous elections, this rhetoric helped Oli galvanize public support. But this time, the situation appears different. Oli has been raising the issue of foreign intervention behind the GenZ movement for more than two months, yet the narrative has gained little traction. Public sentiment has shifted. Nepalis today are more concerned about corruption, unemployment, inflation and the failure of political leaders to govern effectively. The idea that Nepal’s problems stem from foreign meddling, rather than deep-rooted internal dysfunction, no longer convinces many.  Inside the UML, too, Oli’s nationalist rhetoric appears to be losing its persuasive power. The party rank-and-file recognizes that nationalism has become a convenient cover for resisting internal reforms and maintaining control. With rising dissatisfaction in the organization and the emergence of stronger rival factions, Oli’s grip on the party is not as secure as it once was.

Conclusion

KP Sharma Oli’s use of the term ‘nationalism’ has been a key part of his political identity for nearly a decade. It helped him rise to power, survive internal challenges and present himself as the champion of Nepali sovereignty. But political landscapes evolve, and public patience has limits. Today, with a frustrated younger generation, intensifying intra-party competition, and declining faith in political theatrics, Oli’s nationalism card appears increasingly exhausted. Whether it will still work at the upcoming General Convention remains uncertain, but all signs suggest that its effectiveness is rapidly waning.