Tag Archives: democracy

Clean Leaders Alone Can’t Make Nepal a Ram Rajya

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Dr. Rajendra K. Panthee

Imagine for a moment that Nepal is suddenly ruled by the most corruption-hating leader in the world. Let us say someone like Lee Kuan Yew, the founding father of Singapore, who is globally known for turning a corrupt and underdeveloped port into a clean and efficient economy. Or perhaps Estonia’s reformers, who built a digital governance model that many countries admire. Imagine his cabinet ministers are equally clean, selfless, and devoted only to the nation. In one magical day, Nepal becomes a Ram Rajya. Honest. Efficient. Benevolent. No more rigged tenders. No more ghost schools. No more money laundering through cooperatives.

Still, Nepal might not change or develop. For a few stubborn reasons.

1. The people
Too many of us do not think about the nation as a shared project. We think about personal benefit, party loyalty, and who will protect our group. Blind support for a party becomes more important than policy, integrity, or long term vision. We say we want clean leaders, but when it comes to our own people, we say, he is not corrupt, he is our guy, he feeds us, he protects us, he is like family.

We want clean leaders at the top, but we also want our own people to be protected, promoted, and let off the hook. We want the system to work for us, not for the nation. We want to be the exception, not the rule.

Even a perfect government gets worn down by our own cynicism, favoritism, and indifference to the public good. We ask for Ram Rajya, but we do not want to live in it. We protest against corruption, but we also protect our corrupt uncle. We vote for clean candidates, but we also vote for the one who gives us a job, a contract, or a favor.

Nepal will not change because we do not want to change. We want the system to be clean, but we do not want to be clean.

2. The political class
There is another ugly truth. Many Nepali political leaders and their supporters also make India into a convenient political weapon. When they feel close to India, everything suddenly feels normal. When they feel ignored, less useful, or less favored than other leaders, they quickly start saying India is playing a game or interfering in Nepal’s affairs.

This is where the hypocrisy becomes obvious. On one hand, some of them are ready to become a puppet of India when it suits their own power. On the other hand, they pull out the nationalist card and shout anti India slogans to emotionally blackmail simple Nepali people. They do not use nationalism as principle. They use it as a tool.

This pattern is dangerous because it turns foreign policy into a domestic performance. Instead of speaking honestly about Nepal’s interests, they use India either as a shield or as a villain depending on what benefits them politically at that moment. That is not patriotism. That is manipulation.

India, as a big and powerful country with its own strategic interests, will never ignore Nepal completely. That much is obvious. But Nepali leaders also help create this cycle by using India whenever it helps them defend themselves, attack rivals, or distract the public from their own failures.

The result is always the same. The public gets confused, the debate gets emotional, and serious national issues become cheap slogans.

The bitter reality
Nepal’s future is not just about cleaning up corruption at the top. It is about how we, as citizens, act. It is about whether we can stop being blind supporters of one party and start being citizens who demand accountability. It is about whether we can stop thinking about personal benefits and start thinking about the nation as a shared project.

It is also about whether our leaders stop using India as a political mask whenever it suits them. A weak political class cannot build a strong state by playing nationalist theater on one side and foreign dependence on the other.

Nepal is stuck between pride and weakness, between sovereignty and dependency, between slogans and reality. Even Ram Rajya in Nepal would struggle, not because leaders alone are bad, but because the people are divided and the political class is often dishonest about bigger forces at play.

What can we do
We can stop being blind supporters. We can stop protecting our corrupt uncle. We can stop voting for the one who gives us a job and start voting for the one who gives us a future. We can start asking questions, demanding transparency, and holding our leaders accountable. We can also stop falling for the same tired game where leaders pretend to defend the nation while using India only when it suits their own power.

We can start being citizens, not just loyalists.

Conclusion
Even if Nepal gets Lee Kuan Yew as its Prime Minister, even if his cabinet is made of angels, even if Nepal becomes Ram Rajya overnight, it will not change or develop unless we change first. Unless we stop being blind supporters. Unless we stop protecting our corrupt uncle. Unless we stop letting leaders use India as a political weapon whenever they want sympathy or advantage.

Nepal’s future is not just about clean leaders. It is about clean citizens. It is about clean institutions. It is about honest politics. And it is about refusing to be emotionally blackmailed by nationalist slogans every time leaders want to hide their weakness.

Members of Parliament Don’t Know Parliamentary Language and We Call It Okay

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Dr. Rajendra K Panthee

I teach David Bartholomae’s “Inventing the University” where he says entering a community means learning its language AND its culture. Understanding mere words, grammar, sentences is not enough. You must learn the values, the norms, the ways of thinking. Now look at our Parliament. Many MPs today have learned the words of democracy but not the culture of democracy. They can say accountability but skip Parliament when questioned. They can say the people but ignore parliamentary procedure. They can say revolution but refuse to learn the institution that gives them power.

This is populism at work. Populism teaches the vocabulary of change but not the culture of accountability. It teaches you to say the people but not to submit to institutions that represent them. It teaches you to say democracy but not to respect the rules of democracy. When Prime Minister Balen Sah skips Parliament and avoids answering questions, when MPs do not know parliamentary procedure and followers call it anti establishment, this is not revolution. This is performing ignorance and calling it virtue.

Balen Sah’s behavior is wrong. It is not just about one party. Other leaders like Harka Sampang are no better. But RSP has been especially responsible for ignoring the superiority of Parliament and normalizing this anti institutional attitude. The party has helped create a culture where skipping Parliament is acceptable, where parliamentary procedure is elite, and where accountability is optional.

Bartholomae would say you cannot participate in a community you refuse to learn. Parliamentary culture means the Prime Minister answers questions even when uncomfortable. It means rules apply to everyone not just the opposition. It means accountability through institutions not social media. It means respecting debate even when you disagree. It means you submit to the institution even when it costs you politically.

Many MPs have the words but not the culture. They have democracy vocabulary but not democracy practice. They have the appearance of representation without the substance of accountability. This destroys institutions built over decades. When leaders treat norms as optional, democracy erodes. When followers accept anti intellectualism as virtue, institutions lose authority. When populists say institutions are corrupt, they weaken representative democracy itself.

This is the destructive nature of populist anti-intellectualism. Populism while potentially serving as a corrective force poses significant threats to democratic norms. The pattern is clear. Institutional erosion happens when leaders treat norms as optional. Democratic accountability disappears when followers accept anti intellectualism as virtue. The research shows we need to strengthen checks and balances to counter the appeal of populism. But first we need to recognize what is happening. We need to name it. We need to teach people why institutions matter. We need to teach them that culture matters as much as words.

When we lose parliamentary literacy, we lose the ability to hold power accountable through institutional means. When we lose parliamentary culture, we lose the values that make accountability possible. We lose the ability to debate respectfully. We lose the ability to build consensus. We lose the ability to protect minority rights. We lose the ability to govern effectively.

What we gain is chaos. What we gain is personal rule. What we gain is the illusion of representation without the reality of accountability. What we gain is the words of democracy without the culture of democracy.

We need to teach democratic literacy the way we teach academic literacy. We need to teach students and citizens how institutions work. We need to teach them why rules matter. We need to teach them that accountability is not optional. And we need to teach them the culture of democracy, not just the vocabulary.

David Bartholomae taught us that learning a new language is hard. It requires effort. It requires humility. It requires practice. Entering a new community means learning to speak like its members. But it also means learning to think like its members. It means learning its values. It means learning its culture.

Entering a democratic community means learning the language of democracy. It means learning parliamentary procedure. It means learning to hold power accountable through institutions. It means learning that rules protect us all not just the elite. And it means learning the culture of democracy, which means submission to process even when it is uncomfortable.

When MPs refuse to learn this language and culture they are not revolutionaries. They are illiterates. And when their supporters say it is okay they are complicit in the destruction of democracy.

Democracy requires language. It requires culture. It requires institutions. It requires people who know how to participate in the code even when it is uncomfortable. Populism promises to give power to the people but it delivers power to the leader. It promises to disrupt the system but it disrupts democracy itself. It teaches the words but not the culture. It teaches the vocabulary without the values.

Balen must answer questions in Parliament. MPs must learn parliamentary procedure. RSP must stop normalizing disrespect for institutions. Other populist leaders must stop treating Parliament as optional. Accountability is not optional. That is the point.

Democracy is not a protest. It is a practice. And you cannot practice if you do not know the language or the culture.

RSP’s First Month: Visible Action, But the Real Test is Still Ahead

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Dr. Rajendra K Panthee

The RSP government has opened its tenure with speed, energy, and a clear effort to project competence. Its one-month progress report is packed with concrete measures, from telecom and postal reforms to digital service upgrades, cybersecurity steps, and administrative discipline tied to the 100-point governance roadmap. That is a promising start. But a promising start is not yet proof of lasting reform.

What stands out most in the report is its focus on visible, everyday services. Extending prepaid package validity, introducing choice in PAYG billing, improving data-usage alerts, advancing 5G readiness, expanding one-time KYC, and improving passport delivery are practical changes people can understand. In a political culture where governments are often accused of producing more slogans than results, that kind of specificity matters. It gives the administration something tangible to point to.

The report also suggests a government that understands that reform is not only about high-level announcements. Its emphasis on zero pending files, business process re-engineering, and better coordination across agencies shows some awareness that the machinery of government must be fixed if public service is to improve. That is a welcome sign. Administrative reform is often boring, but it is usually the difference between public frustration and public trust.

Still, one month is too short a period to treat these measures as full achievements. Many of the report’s items appear to be starts, not finishes. A policy can be introduced, a system can be launched, and a directive can be issued without yet producing durable institutional change. That distinction matters. Citizens do not ultimately judge governments by the number of announcements they make, but by whether those announcements improve the way the state actually works.

That is why the 100-point roadmap should be read as a test, not a trophy. Roadmaps are useful only if they can be translated into deadlines, measurable outcomes, and real accountability. The report shows movement, but movement is not the same as transformation. Some projects appear to be operational, while others are still at the stage of preparation or coordination. The real challenge is whether this initial momentum can survive beyond the first month.

There is also an important political dimension here. Every new government wants to create a story of competence early in its tenure. That is normal. But the more strongly a government advertises early success, the more closely it will later be judged on whether that success endures. Public trust is not built by momentum alone. It is built by consistency, follow-through, and visible results that ordinary people can feel.

So the fairest reading of the report is balanced. The RSP government has made a fast and visible start, and that should be acknowledged. But it has not yet proven that this start will become a sustained record of reform. The one-month report shows intention, direction, and energy. What it does not yet show is whether the government can turn those qualities into lasting change.

Two Democracies, One Problem: When Governments Block the People’s Right to Know 

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In Ontario, Canada, the Doug Ford government just passed changes to freedom of information laws. These changes exempt the premier, cabinet ministers, and their staff from disclosing emails, texts, and other records related to public business. Across the world in Nepal, the Right to Information Act of 2007 exists on paper. But it routinely fails when citizens seek records about political corruption, elite wealth, or government spending. These are not isolated incidents. They represent a global pattern. Governments promise reform while quietly making it harder for citizens to verify those promises.

The parallel is striking. Ontario’s changes came after court rulings demanded access to the premier’s phone records in connection with the Greenbelt scandal. Nepal’s RTI system has existed for nearly two decades. Yet political offices consistently delay, redact, or deny requests about ministers’ assets, public procurement, or the implementation of reform roadmaps. In both cases, ordinary government agencies must disclose information. But the political leadership creates exemptions for itself.

This is not about partisan politics. It is about a fundamental principle of democratic accountability. Citizens have a right to know how decisions affecting their lives were made. Freedom of information laws exist precisely because governments cannot be trusted to tell their own stories accurately. When leaders exempt themselves from these laws, they are saying their work is too sensitive for public eyes. The public is left to accept official narratives without the records to test them against reality.

In Nepal, the stakes are particularly high. The new government’s 100‑point reform roadmap promises anti‑corruption measures, faster service delivery, and transparent governance. But without strong RTI enforcement, citizens have no way to verify whether these are real commitments or political theatre. Journalists requested details about ministers’ recently declared gold holdings and property. What did they receive? Delays, partial disclosures, or outright denials. The same pattern repeats with questions about arrests of former leaders, implementation of the roadmap, or the budget allocations for promised reforms.

Ontario offers a cautionary tale. The FOI changes there were framed as modernization for the digital age. Yet critics, including the province’s privacy commissioner, warned they would make government less transparent than even some authoritarian states. The timing also mattered. The changes came after court losses over access to political records. That timing suggested a deeper motive. Leaders wanted to shield decision‑making from scrutiny.

Both situations reveal the same structural flaw. Democratic governments often weaken the very mechanisms designed to hold them accountable. Nepal’s RTI Commission exists but lacks teeth. Ontario’s Information and Privacy Commissioner can complain but cannot compel disclosure from the political elite. The result is predictable. Leaders control the flow of information while citizens struggle to separate fact from spin.

This matters most for Nepal because the new government came to power promising to break decades of corrupt governance. The public wants to believe in that promise. But belief without verification becomes blind faith. When citizens cannot access records showing how ministers accumulated their wealth, whether arrests followed due process, or if the 100‑point roadmap has concrete timelines and budgets, skepticism grows. Transparency is not a luxury. It is the foundation of trust.

The solution is straightforward but politically difficult. Nepal should strengthen its RTI law. It should mandate timelines for political office responses, create real penalties for non‑compliance, and give the National Information Commission power to compel disclosure. Ontario should reverse its exemptions and recommit to the principle that no public official is above public scrutiny.

Around the world, democracies face this same test. When governments limit access to information, they limit the public’s ability to govern itself. Nepal and Ontario show that the problem transcends borders, political systems, and cultures. The right to know is universal because the need to hold power accountable is universal.

Leaders promising reform should welcome scrutiny, not evade it. Citizens demanding accountability should insist on records, not just rhetoric. When governments exempt themselves from transparency laws, they are not modernizing democracy. They are undermining it.