People tend to attribute the current backlash against democracy to exaggerated claims about poor leadership. While leadership plays a vital role in a country’s well-being and society at large, critics raise a deeper concern: expecting extraordinary leaders to embody perfection while creating a shared vision for the future is unrealistic.
Such idealized expectations leave society perpetually striving for an unattainable ideal, inevitably deepening frustration. This way of thinking can distort public understanding and intensify political polarization. It may also spread misinformation in academic literature and, perhaps more importantly, in public discourse.
Nevertheless, over the past thirty-six years, Nepal has made significant progress in embracing liberal ideas and values, particularly the rule of law. Yet, paradoxically, these democratic gains have coincided with growing public disillusionment, increasingly challenging the established logic of realpolitik. This gap between democratic progress and popular dissatisfaction raises fundamental questions about the nature, quality, and sustainability of Nepal’s democratic transformation.
The challenge with perfectionism is that liberty, democracy, cooperation, and human rights—principles that govern Nepal and, as Zakaria (2024) says, emphasize the rules, norms, and values that create forums for discussion, debate, and action—may not be achievable. Yet substantial evidence indicates that the political system the country has adopted has damaged its public image and rapidly eroded public confidence.
Democracy becomes more vital when citizens see themselves not merely as subjects of the state but as active authors of their shared political life. Nepal needs a fundamental realignment of its party system and a more comprehensive approach to national planning.
Several commentators have proposed a two-step response: first, examine why people favor appealing ideas over evidence; then consider how the political system itself shapes those choices. The aim is to build a healthier public image of democracy.
Since the fall of absolute monarchy in 1990, Nepal has increasingly aligned itself with global rules and norms, particularly those concerning good governance. Yet the actual practice of good governance has become increasingly elusive, and this gap between formal commitments and practical realities is especially troubling.
As everyday life in Nepal grows more complex, effective governance requires greater technical expertise, institutional capacity, and accountability. Yet many Nepalis remain unconvinced that their government can manage strategically important businesses in the public interest. They fear that power and economic resources are concentrated in the hands of a small, influential elite, while unchecked capitalism continues to undermine the livelihoods and well-being of millions across the country.
Expectations for the RSP government are exceptionally high. But its story should not unfold like a Bollywood film, with a hero spending most of the story trapped by pressure, conspiracies, and a villain’s siege, only to emerge victorious in the final scene. Politics is not a movie; it shapes people’s lives.
People are not waiting for a last-minute triumph. They want to experience better governance in their daily lives. If five years bring nothing but stories of struggle, pressure, and political siege, a final victory will not erase public disappointment. In a democracy, what matters most is not the hero’s eventual triumph but the meaningful changes people experience in everyday life.
This serves as a reminder that democracy is a shared and ongoing process shaped by political values, moral commitments, and citizens’ everyday experiences of participation and responsibility. Public participation is therefore more than a procedural requirement; it is fundamental to democratic life.
What Nepal needs is a more active but not intrusive government—one that protects citizens’ rights and promotes equality of opportunity. These essential democratic principles appear to have received insufficient attention under the political regime formed following the general elections of 5 March 2026.
I do not suggest that the Balen government has become more conservative or authoritarian. Rather, I question whether Nepali society can continue to advance by embedding peaceful democratic values in the fabric of everyday life.
Without such a commitment, democratic reform risks becoming little more than cosmetic change—“putting lipstick on a pig,” to borrow a familiar metaphor associated with Barack Obama. I find it difficult to assume that Nepal’s democracy is free from risk or that its institutions are immune to democratic erosion. Unless citizens can exercise meaningful influence over public affairs, democracy may remain an institutional façade rather than a living political culture.
Nepal’s democratic journey shows that institutional weakness and political instability cannot be explained by formal structures and electoral processes alone. They also stem from political culture, governing practices, and a lack of accountability among leaders who have held power for decades. Reducing democracy to elections, constitutional arrangements, and state institutions overlooks its deeper philosophical foundations.
The long tenure of politicians widely described by citizens as “worthless”—or, more bluntly, “bloody-jerk traitors”—including Sher Bahadur Deuba, Pushpa Kamal Dahal, Khadga Prasad Oli, Baburam Bhattarai, and Madhav Kumar Nepal, has shaped Nepal’s democratic experience through incompetence and corruption, paving the way for prolonged kakistocracy.
The early excitement surrounding the new federal republic gradually gave way to political division, public frustration, and a growing sense that democratic promises had gone unfulfilled. This period has also coincided with the persistence of an elite-dominated, market-driven economy.
Critics frequently argue that successive governments, by validating their own experiences, have fostered private commercial interests, offering powerful groups advantages over the public good and contributing to the loss of public assets. At the same time, political progress has repeatedly suffered setbacks as governance lost sight of change, except for some populist policies that effectively undermined the development of a sufficiently citizen-centered, institutionally robust, and ethically grounded polity.
At a deeper level, the crisis concerns democracy’s moral purpose. When political power is detached from public responsibility, democracy loses its meaning as a shared project of dignity, justice, and collective self-government.
The problem, however, extends beyond individual leaders. It also reflects a political culture that treats power as an end in itself and public office as a means of personal or political gain rather than public service. The establishment of the Federal Democratic Republic in 2008 marked a seismic turning point in Nepal’s history.
It ended the monarchy, reorganized the political order, and created space for reconstruction, reconciliation, and democratic transformation. Yet establishing a republic and cultivating democratic consciousness are not the same achievement.
The Nepali state still seems overly reliant on top-down, technocratic, and bureaucratic responses to political problems. This raises a deeper question: Where does sovereignty truly reside—in constitutional language, state institutions, political leaders, or citizens who participate consciously in public life? This question lies at the heart of Nepal’s shrinking civic space, fragmented political discourse, and elite-centered governance.
Democracy may retain its external structures even as its inner spirit weakens. When citizens lose meaningful influence over public decisions, democratic institutions can become formal shells.
The problem deepens when institutions cannot hold political leaders and bureaucratic authorities accountable. Lasting democratic change therefore requires a shift in personal and civic consciousness. In Abraham Maslow’s terms, human development involves more than meeting material needs; it also entails self-awareness, dignity, responsibility, and the capacity to pursue fuller forms of collective creation.
Progress may require pausing before reacting, setting distractions aside to focus on performance, and remembering that gaining power is not the same as transforming society.
Democracy becomes more vital when citizens see themselves not merely as subjects of the state but as active authors of their shared political life. Nepal needs a fundamental realignment of its party system and a more comprehensive approach to national planning.
Political leaders must better understand and respond to the needs of sovereign citizens, whose concerns have received limited attention. At the same time, an important change is taking shape. Discussion of democracy is no longer confined to Parliament, universities, or party platforms; it has moved into workplaces, public transport, taxis, and neighborhood tea stalls.
This expanding public conversation about the state, power, leadership, rights, and citizenship signals growing political awareness across Nepali society. Yet political power remains concentrated in the hands of a few, and citizens’ voices often have little practical influence. The challenge is to turn this growing public consciousness into meaningful participation and accountability.
No party stays in power forever, and the RSP-led Balen government will eventually end. What matters most is the legacy it leaves behind. By delivering meaningful results—especially on the issues that matter most to people—it can make a lasting difference. If it falls short, its impact may fade from memory. Nepal’s 75 years of political history show that people are resilient and find ways to recover and respond, whether rationally or otherwise.
Progress may require pausing before reacting, setting distractions aside to focus on performance, and remembering that gaining power is not the same as transforming society. Ambition and authority alone cannot guarantee success; lasting public satisfaction matters. Abandoning principles or changing course without a clear purpose can make these goals harder to achieve.