Why did the Nepal Army (NA) not take the initiative to protect vital state installations such as the Parliament building, Singha Durbar, the Supreme Court, and the President’s Office? 

Since the violent GenZ protests of Sept 8–9, this question has reverberated from tea stalls to television studios, from ordinary citizens to political leaders and security analysts. And it is a question the Army will likely continue to face for generations.

 At a press conference on Oct 17, more than a month after the unrest, the NA said that Singha Durbar could have been saved only at the cost of significant human casualties, meaning it would have had to open fire on protesters. The Army, which has historically refrained from suppressing popular uprisings, maintained that the Sept 9 chaos was not a peaceful protest but a riot.

 According to Army officers, troops attempted to hold back demonstrators at Singha Durbar’s gates through physical restraint and warning fire. But as mobs surged in from all four directions, the Army acted under what it called the “principle of necessity,” prioritizing human lives over physical infrastructure. In essence, the NA decided not to kill civilians to protect government buildings.

Still, the Army claims it succeeded in safeguarding strategically vital assets. Despite the blaze at Singha Durbar, it says its personnel managed to protect sensitive documents and data servers belonging to the National Security Council, the Ministry of Defense, and the Ministry of Finance. Had those systems been destroyed, the state’s financial operations, such as salary payments, transactions, and accounting, could have ground to a halt within days, NA said.  The NA also claims credit for securing Tribhuvan International Airport during the unrest.

Initial media reports suggest that the NA has launched an internal investigation to identify deployment lapses that occurred on September 9 at sensitive and vital installations.

Inside the NA, there appears to be serious reflection underway regarding its failure to protect vital installations. However, publicly, the NA leadership is defending its actions on various grounds.

The questions confronting the Army today are not entirely new. Article 267 of Nepal’s Constitution designates the President as the Supreme Commander of the Army.

This has raised another sensitive issue: why did the Army not take measures to protect its own Commander-in-Chief, as President Ram Chandra Poudel reportedly had to seek temporary shelter elsewhere during the unrest? Public reaction on social media following the Army’s statement suggests deep skepticism. The common perception remains that soldiers stationed at key gates could have either convinced the protesters not to torch the buildings, or, if necessary, used limited force to defend them.

 Another question concerns the Army’s role in controlling the fires. Officials claimed that fire engines were dispatched to critical sites but were obstructed by protesters. According to the NA, by the following day, flames at most government buildings were under control, except at the Hilton Hotel. Chief Justice Prakash Man Singh Rawat, however, stated in an interview that he had to rely on the Lalitpur Municipality’s help to extinguish the blaze at the Supreme Court on the third day of arson.

 The list of questions goes on: Why didn’t the Army provide backup to the Nepal Police in controlling the mobs? Why was there a delay in mobilizing the Army after Prime Minister Oli’s resignation?

 Despite criticism, the Army’s subsequent actions helped stabilize the country. After taking full command of security on Sept 9, the law-and-order situation improved dramatically. At a time when political parties faced public anger, the Army facilitated dialogue between President Poudel and the GenZ protesters. Political leaders across party lines have since praised the NA for helping steer the crisis toward a constitutional resolution.

 Yet controversy lingers over the Army’s decision to confiscate the mobile phones of top political leaders under its protection. Officials justified the move, saying unrestricted communication among party leaders could have derailed the delicate process of forming a new government and deepened the crisis. The phones were returned only after Sushila Karki was sworn in as Prime Minister. Although President Poudel reportedly sought verbal consent from major parties, their actual role in the government formation process was minimal.

Public suspicion toward the Army is not without historical precedent. After the 2001 royal massacre that claimed the lives of King Birendra and his family, the NA repeatedly asserted that security of the royal palace was beyond its jurisdiction. Yet many citizens never accepted that explanation. Even after 25 years, people still ask: why did the Army fail to protect its own supreme commander?

Similarly, when the monarchy was abolished by the first meeting of the Constituent Assembly in 2008, the Army chose to remain silent. Monarchists continue to question why it did not resist the removal of the King.

 This time, however, the stakes are far greater. The questions facing the Army today cut deeper, carrying long-term implications for civilian–military relations and the integrity of the state.

 Despite the wave of criticism, the NA deserves recognition for restoring order and refraining from political intervention at a volatile moment. Rumors of a military takeover or a royal return were rife, but the Army maintained its apolitical character and ultimately acted to safeguard the constitutional framework.

 Still, the questions directed at the NA cannot be answered by the Army alone. They also implicate Nepal’s political leadership and its constitutional arrangements. The coalition government of the Nepali Congress and CPN-UML had the authority to declare a state of emergency or mobilize the Army through the National Security Council, but did not.

 The new government that comes from the March 5 elections must treat these issues with seriousness and urgency. Lessons from the September crisis should inform legal and constitutional reforms to ensure such lapses never recur. What unfolded in Nepal was unprecedented, both in terms of scale and the symbolism it carries.

 Rather than dragging the Army into controversy, political leaders must confront their own failures. The events of Sept 8–9 were not just a breakdown of security; they were a test of Nepal’s entire state apparatus.