A quiet but consequential transformation has unfolded in Nepal over the last two decades. What was once the world’s only Hindu kingdom—rich in culture, fiercely independent, and strategically positioned—has now become a republic adrift in uncertainty. Institutions are weakened, corruption is endemic, and foreign influence looms large. Democracy may have arrived in name, but its promise has withered.

To understand how we arrived here, one must revisit the geopolitical dynamics of the early 2000s. Contrary to the narrative of a purely homegrown democratic movement, Nepal’s republican transition was heavily influenced—if not orchestrated—by external actors, particularly India. Under the Congress (I)-led government of Prime Minister Manmohan Singh, with strategic input from Sonia Gandhi and India’s security establishment, Nepal’s monarchy came to be viewed as a liability. King Gyanendra’s assertive nationalism and outreach to China unsettled New Delhi. The monarchy, long a symbol of Nepal’s sovereignty, became expendable.

The solution? A calculated shift in support toward Nepal’s Maoist insurgents. In 2005, India brokered the 12-Point Agreement between the Maoists and Nepal’s political parties. This paved the way for the 2006 Comprehensive Peace Accord and the 2008 abolition of the monarchy [2]. While the peace process was publicly hailed as a democratic breakthrough, behind the scenes it was enabled by India’s intelligence apparatus, logistical support, and diplomatic pressure.

The outcome: the Maoists gained political legitimacy, India neutralized a difficult monarchy, and Nepal’s political order was fundamentally altered. But this reordering came at a steep cost. The republic that replaced the monarchy has failed to deliver on its most basic promises—governance, stability, and national unity. Instead, a vacuum has emerged, filled increasingly by geopolitical competition. Nepal today is more vulnerable, not less.

In the years since Nepal has seen a proliferation of political parties but a decline in political accountability. Institutions that were meant to embody the will of the people are now widely viewed as instruments of partisan control and self-enrichment. Frequent government changes, rampant corruption, and political impunity have undermined public trust. The republic, for all its fanfare, has failed to consolidate the democratic ethos it promised.

What makes the situation more precarious is Nepal’s enduring geopolitical vulnerability. China’s economic engagement, India’s regional dominance, and Western donor influence have locked Nepal into a strategic triangle where autonomy is frequently compromised [3]. Decisions of national significance—ranging from constitutional amendments to security cooperation—are increasingly shaped not in Kathmandu, but in New Delhi, Beijing, or donor meetings in Geneva.

Ironically, while India’s Congress Party helped usher in Nepal’s secular republic, the current BJP-led government appears to favor a return to Nepal’s Hindu identity. Public statements by leaders like Uttar Pradesh Chief Minister Yogi Adityanath have openly supported reinstating Nepal as a Hindu state—with the monarchy intact [4]. This is no longer a fringe opinion. It reflects a growing current within Indian politics that views Nepal as part of a broader civilizational continuum, rather than as a sovereign peer.

Meanwhile, King Gyanendra has made a quiet but firm return to the national discourse. His recent public addresses—delivered not as a ruler but as a concerned citizen—have called for a national awakening. He has urged unity, warned of cultural erosion, and signalled a readiness to serve if the people so wish. “If my people call me, I will not turn away,” he said. These words resonate deeply with a populace disillusioned by a dysfunctional republic.

This is not an argument for monarchy or against republic. It is a call for reflection. It is neither regressive nor anti-democratic to question the direction of a political system that has repeatedly failed to serve its citizens. If Nepal’s experiment with republicanism is to survive, it must undergo radical reform. If not, the public must be free to explore other constitutional options—be they ceremonial monarchy, hybrid models, or direct democracy. The central issue is not monarchy versus republic. It is sovereignty versus subordination.

Nepal has long been treated less as a sovereign nation and more as a malleable buffer between competing interests. It is the right of the Nepali people—not foreign capitals, aid agencies, or intelligence officers—to decide the nation’s destiny. Democracy, in its truest form, begins with the freedom to ask difficult questions—and the courage to answer them honestly.

Nepal has been a testing ground for too long. The republic, as it stands, has neither consolidated national unity nor protected the dignity of the state. The moment has arrived for Nepalis to reclaim their agency and redefine their future—rooted in dignity, driven by choice, and shielded from external manipulation.

Dr. Janardan Subedi is a professor of sociology at Miami University, Ohio, USA. He writes on South Asian geopolitics, democracy, and development.

References:

1. Dixit, Kunda. Dateline Earth: Journalism As If the Planet Mattered.

2. International Crisis Group (2005). Nepal: From People Power to Peace?

3. Thapa, Deepak. 'Nepal’s Troubled Transition.' East Asia Forum, 2020.

4. 'Yogi Adityanath Calls for Restoration of Nepal's Hindu Status,' The Indian Express, 2021.