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
