How China and India address climate change and reduce greenhouse gas emissions will have a significant impact on the planet's future, given their growing economic and demographic weight.
China and India are among the top emitters; recent estimates put their shares at roughly 33.9% and 7.5% respectively. Climate cooperation between the two neighbouring Asian giants will not only be mutually beneficial but also have the significant effect in blunting impacts of climate change in the region.&nbsp;
However, for such a cooperative agenda to materialise and sustain, there must be a discursive reconstruction of the issue of climate change, which transcends realist preoccupations with strategic advantage, relative power, and enduring rivalry. Drawing from the constructivist school in International Relations, this article presents the merits of such an approach and how it may be realised.
Driven by shared vulnerabilities to climate change, China and India initiated a cautious but promising climate diplomacy in 2009 by signing the Agreement on Cooperation in Addressing Climate Change. The agreement established the China–India Working Group on Climate Change to deliberate on domestic policy measures and international climate negotiations through secretary-level meetings.&nbsp;
The agreement facilitated collaborative scientific engagement including meteorological data sharing and joint research on climate change. A 2015 joint statement by Xi and Modi acknowledged the climate agreement as "mutually beneficial and contributes to the global efforts to address Climate Change".&nbsp;
However, the nascent China–India climate diplomacy was short-lived as it was incumbent upon favourable geopolitical conditions. As border tensions escalated from 2017, bilateral climate engagement stalled and has yet to resume.
CIVILISATIONAL THREAT
For climate diplomacy to be sustainable and effective, it needs to be insulated from the vagaries of everyday geopolitics. Climate change must be constructed as a collective threat, the redress of which requires placing it above the constraints of narrow geopolitical common sense.
China and India can facilitate such a reconstruction of the climate question by drawing upon their shared conception of themselves as civilisational states. Their political thought, moral order, and legitimacy are grounded in longstanding philosophical traditions such as Confucianism and Dharmic pluralism—broadly encompassing Hindu, Buddhist, Jain, and related traditions, respectively, under which the state is viewed as a custodian of civilisation, not just a modern bureaucratic apparatus.&nbsp;
In contrast, the post-Westphalian modern nation-state, which holds sovereignty and territorial integrity as the foundation of the modern international order, has promoted the idea of homogeneous nationhood characterised by bounded identities, actively ‘othering’ those outside its territorial boundaries. This has made universal cooperation on even the most pressing transnational issues such as climate change, difficult, if not improbable.
China and India, too, disregarding their civilisational characteristics, behave like post-Westphalian nation-states in their relations with each other, placing strategic competitiveness, territorial integrity, and relative advantage above all else. Climate cooperation has been a casualty of this disregard for civilisational values.
China and India could found a strong, enduring, and effective climate cooperation if they were to position themselves first as civilisational states, with unique ways of governance, complex histories, and value systems informed by principles such as Tianxia—'all under heaven’ and Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam—'the world is one family’. These values encompass holism and interconnectedness of all beings on the planet, transcending the narrow Eurocentric categories of bounded nationhood, territorial sovereignty, borders, and relative power.&nbsp;
Such a worldview would enable them to perceive issues like climate change for what they are—a shared threat to both (and humanity), which needs to be addressed in concert, setting aside constraints imposed by strategic dictates.
Of course, framing China or India as civilisational states can translate into competing moral or cultural claims to leadership aimed at justifying hierarchical regional orders. The leaders of both states have invoked civilisational identity to legitimise power claims and expansionist ambitions, as seen in Xi Jinping’s ‘national rejuvenation’ based on civilisational pride, and in Modi’s ‘Vishwa Guru’ narrative embedded in cultural nationalism.
However, in the face of an overarching transnational threat such as climate change, with adequate political will and foresight, China and India could choose to consciously construct their civilisational heritage and beliefs as a responsibility toward the planet and humanity. The Chinese concept of ‘Tianxia’ can be interpreted as an ecological cosmopolitanism, while India’s ‘vasudhaiva kutumbakam’ offers a parallel ideal for global ecological stewardship.
Thus, climate change must be constructed as a civilisational threat for China and India. It is not merely an ecological, socio‑economic, political, or security threat; it also imperils their civilisational cores. Both must recognise climate change for the potential it has to eliminate their long-held civilisational heritage, complex history, diverse knowledge and value systems, and unique worldviews.&nbsp;
The need is to perceive this collective problem from a shared civilisational standpoint, which is far older and more complex than that of modern nation-states. This reframing can seed norms that promote resilient and enduring climate cooperation to take root.
REVITALISED CLIMATE COOPERATION
Reframing climate change as a civilisational threat is pivotal for several reasons. Firstly, it redefines precarity—the impending impacts of climate change are not only limited to existing socio-ecological and economic aspects of the society as we know it. It threatens the very traditional, socio-historical, and cultural roots of these civilisations.&nbsp;
Secondly, this reconstruction of climate change augments urgency—there is an urgent need to muster all efforts to address the crisis, including cooperation with neighbouring states, especially those with shared historical and civilisational narratives. Thirdly, it places responsibility on leaders not only to protect the current and future generations, but also safeguard the rich past from obliteration.&nbsp;
Fourthly, such a reconceptualisation of climate change elevates the climate agenda above everyday geopolitics, making room for lasting cooperative mechanisms and policies that could withstand strategic shifts. Further, this understanding of climate change justifies and necessitates closer cooperation and privileges de-politicised cooperation insulated from day‑to‑day geopolitical fluctuations.
A discursive reconstruction of climate change can pave the way for a resilient climate cooperation between China and India that is multi-dimensional and holistic. Politically, the two can negotiate an all-weather climate cooperation framework by revisiting their 2009 agreement, situating it on a normative foundation of shared civilisational risk, and anchoring it in a clause that insulates climate collaboration from geopolitical fluctuations.&nbsp;
This would ensure a steady exchange of resources, knowledge, and technology despite geopolitical uncertainties; spur green growth and resilient development; and help them attain global climate leadership amid inconsistent US leadership. Such a cooperative framework could become a template for regional and even global cooperation on climate change.&nbsp;
Economically, the two can innovate a green trade agreement with built-in structural safeguards against bilateral or regional political tensions.&nbsp;
Such an agreement would prioritise environmental sustainability, decarbonisation, and clean energy, facilitating commerce on electric vehicles (EVs), battery production, smart grids, renewable energy technologies, and energy-saving technologies. They can become global climate leaders by 'doing' through innovation and sharing clean technologies, energy, and critical minerals, without being hindered by strategic competition.&nbsp;
Furthermore, China and India can coordinate their stands at international climate negotiations, continue to champion the interests of developing countries and small island developing states including on climate finance and loss and damage, and leverage their growing economies to demand accountability and responsibility from developed countries.
The two countries can also look to engage in the climate security domain, where they can promote resilience and sustainability in military infrastructure, equipment, deployment, humanitarian assistance and disaster relief (HA/DR) by sharing information, knowledge, technology, best practices, and ecological vulnerability data. They can institute bold trust-building exercises such as joint disaster simulations in the Himalayas, for instance; and invest in collaborative climate security research and development for mutual gains.&nbsp;
The role of civil society and non-state actors in a civilisational climate change-based cooperation will be enormous. Track-two diplomacy, which brings together diverse civil society groups, including local activists, youth and women's groups, scientists, and students, can facilitate a free exchange of ideas, knowledge, and best practices informed by lived experiences.&nbsp;
University consortia, collaborative research programs, and academic events such as conferences, symposia, and workshops on climate-related topics can be fruitful in deepening regional knowledge, methodologies, and strategies.
Thus, basing climate cooperation on deeper civilisational values and identity holds the promise of an enduring, resilient, and effective climate engagement between China and India. Drawing on their unique civilisational positions, rather than the dominant modern nation-state considerations, would enable China and India to actualise a robust, stable, ongoing, mutually beneficial fight against climate change.&nbsp;
The prospects of such a cooperative endeavour, which will foster the revival of the idea of ‘Chindia’—the imagined joint rise of China and India, are within reach.
Robert Mizo is Assistant Professor of Political Science and International Relations at the University of Delhi and holds a PhD in Climate Policy studies. He is currently a Research Fellow at the Toda Peace Institute, Tokyo
This article was issued by the Toda Peace Institute and has been republished from the original with permission.

original

674x448

610x380

500x500

400x266

400x240

400x203

301x200

1250x600

1084x550

thumbnail

viewImage

Opinion

Reconstructing the China–India climate diplomacy

You do not have to be a climate expert or atmospheric pandit to claim that Nepal is not pulling its weight on the grand narratives of the Anthropocene. As a heavily populated ‘country-on-an-incline’ from the Tarai to the Himalaya, Nepal is a thermometer of global warming.&nbsp; Its people are human witnesses to environmental and climate breakdown, but remain mute observers to the unfolding crises. Nepal should be leading the pack at the COP30 climate conference in Belém, backed by science and lived experience. But it is doubtful that two of the most crucial climate-related subjects central to the culture, economies and human wellbeing in the Himalaya and South Asia will be discussed at the summit that started this week in Brazil.&nbsp; The first topic that should be raised at COP is Black Carbon or the South Asian Brown Cloud, made up of tiny suspended particles in the air. This is not just a transboundary health hazard, there is now enough science to make the case that Himalayan snowmelt is accelerated significantly by the albedo effect that makes ice melt faster because of reduced reflectivity. But Kathmandu has not been able to make governments near and far listen. In 2014, I wrote a short piece published in Outlook magazine explaining why India’s Prime Minister Modi looking northward from a SAARC Summit retreat in Dhulikhel was unable to see the Jugal Himal range barely 30km away. His view was obscured by the pollution layer arriving from as far away as Lahore with substantial contribution from the Delhi region. That summit itself was an opportunity for Nepal to inform the Indian and Pakistani prime ministers that much of the haze, smog, dust and soot that settles on our slopes was generated in Sindh, Punjab, Punjab, Haryana, Western UP and Delhi NCR, carried by prevailing westerly winds up to the Himalaya. The forest fires within Nepal as well as Kathmandu Valley’s pollution contribute to the haze, but the shroud that suffocates the region through autumn, winter and spring is mostly transnational. Last year, these anthropogenic fine aerosols actually curled over the Bay of Bengal and invaded the airspace of Sri Lanka and Maldives.&nbsp; Even as the soot particles accelerate glacial melt and impact everything from infrastructure to public health, the most visible effect is on tourism. Nepal’s economic future is based on tourism, and much of this relies on being able to see the snow mountains. Why should travellers go to Pokhara if they cannot see the Annapurnas?&nbsp; Hoteliers in Nagarkot have started a campaign: ‘Visit Nagarkot 2025: More than Sunrise and Sunset’. While clever, the slogan is a response to the acclaimed Himalayan vista from Everest to the Annapurnas from the hill station, now obscured by the brown curtain of haze for most of the year. As the bellwether country of South Asia when it comes to the climate crisis, Nepal must build diplomatic confidence to reach out to the governments of Pakistan and India even in their present state of antagonism. Kathmandu must launch ‘haze diplomacy’ for its own sake and for the region.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113001132_16c9941da7b31c1d4683c06dc0f8a572803240701270606848851f915140329c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251113001132_16c9941da7b31c1d4683c06dc0f8a572803240701270606848851f915140329c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1005" height="695" loading="lazy" alt="permafrost"> </figure>  IMPERMANENT FROST&nbsp; Permafrost is understood mostly as a phenomenon of the Arctic, Antarctica, Siberia and Alaska. Mountains elsewhere did not figure, though it was natural for the ground to freeze all year round at high altitudes.&nbsp; In the Himalaya, besides the snowfields and glaciers, frozen moisture binds rocks and stabilises slopes. But global warming is melting the permafrost that used to cement mountain flanks, including boulders, sand and scree slopes. Some of the debris (गेग्रान) did tumble down, but much of it remained entombed on high, thanks to permafrost. Pokhara Valley and the Seti River reaching all the way up to the base of the Annapurnas, is the best place to observe this dance of geology between gravity and the mountain range. Rubble from the collapse about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/remembering-the-seti-disaster">700 years ago of paleo-Annapurna IV </a>created the sediment field on which Pokhara is situated today. However, much of the debris from the crumbled mountain is still lodged up on and around Annapurna IV, but the binding is loosening with the warming earth. A <a href="https://www.icimod.org/event/analysing-permafrost-in-the-hindu-kush-himalaya-using-open-access-tools/">2024 report by the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD)</a> indicates that global warming is thawing the permafrost across High Asia. Among the unintended consequences of climate breakdown is that mountains and moraines are collapsing, with <a href="https://www.icimod.org/press-release/everest-region-a-hotspot-of-cryosphere-linked-hazards-icimods-new-study-on-nepals-2024-thame-flood-confirms/">cascading impact</a> that includes glacial lake outburst floods, reduced groundwater recharge as well as winter flow in the Ganga, Indus and Brahmaputra. No one has calculated the total volume of rubble locked in by permafrost across the Himalaya. Despite the increased risk, there is accelerated construction of highways, hydropower projects, housing and tourism infrastructure across the Himalaya. While the COP conferences discuss rising oceans and receding glaciers (without doing much about it), Himalayan permafrost has been melting unremarked. In their path-breaking September 2024 <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-not-so-permanent-frost">article in Nepali Times</a>, Wilfried Haeberli and Alton C Byers argued that the extreme events of the past few years that led to mountain and moraine collapses, unleashing destructive debris flows downstream, were the result of melting permafrost. Haeberli and Byers suggest that the avalanches and floods including those of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Anatom-of-a-Himalayan-tsunami,1330">Seti (2012)</a>, <a href="https://www.icimod.org/article/understanding-the-chamoli-flood-cause-process-impacts-and-context-of-rapid-infrastructure-development/">Chamoli (2021)</a>, Birendra Tal (2023), <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2772883825000251">Sikkim (2023)</a>, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/climate-breakdown-linked-to-thame-flood">Thame (2024)</a>, <a href="https://himat.org/publication/byers-rockfall-induced-2019/">Barun (2017)</a> and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/drones-to-the-rescue-in-melamchi">Melamchi (2021)</a> were the result of the thawing of frozen ground. They say that the collapse of the lateral moraine on the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/sikkim-flood-is-warning-to-nepal">South Lhonak glacial lake</a> in Sikkim on 4 October 2023 that swept away more than 100 people, destroyed the $1 billion Chungthang Dam as well as houses, roads and farms far downstream, was also caused by cloudburst on a lateral moraine that had lost its permafrost adhesive. There will be permafrost sceptics, as there have been climate change deniers. But it is time to wake up to the reality that the Himalayan peaks are no longer the immutable sentinels as regarded by humanity since prehistoric times.&nbsp; Modern society has pumped so much greenhouse gas into the atmosphere that now even the mountains are giving up. And we have not even begun to think about the bacteria and viruses locked away in the permafrost up the slope.&nbsp; Loss of permafrost adds to the cumulative impact of climate breakdown, including extreme weather events, drought and cloudbursts, heat waves in the plains affecting lives and livelihoods, creating mass migration, social unrest, and upending politics and geopolitics. The government and polity of Nepal have a duty to themselves and the larger humanity to wake up to the climate breakdown. The Sagarmatha Sambaad conclave organised by the Government in May failed to emerge as a pulpit for global warming and associated ills. Our political class, bureaucracy and academia should make up for lost opportunities to rise to the occasion and take the lead.&nbsp; Kanak Mani Dixit is writer, commentator and founding editor of Himal Southasian.

Guest Editorial

Climate of tragedy and apathy

Traditional donors have sharply scaled back their aid commitments to developing countries over the past year. Some, like the United States, have virtually eliminated their aid programs. According to the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD), official development assistance (ODA) from member countries <a href="https://www.oecd.org/en/about/news/press-releases/2025/04/official-development-assistance-2024-figures.html" target="_blank">declined by 7.1%</a> in 2024, its first annual drop in six years. This trend was not limited to a few major donors. Of the 33 members of the OECD’s Development Assistance Committee (DAC), 22 slashed their aid budgets, and only four countries met the United Nations’ target of allocating 0.7% of gross national income to ODA. The outlook for the coming year offers little hope for improvement, as major DAC donors have announced additional cuts. Most notably, US President Donald Trump’s administration has suspended most foreign aid and dismantled the Agency for International Development (USAID), which dispersed most US government aid dollars. Meanwhile, the United Kingdom plans to <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/clyrkkv4gd7o" target="_blank">reduce aid spending</a> from 0.5% of GNI to 0.3% by 2027. Similar retrenchment across Europe and North America is reshaping international assistance, disrupting humanitarian and climate-related programs, and creating financing gaps in critical sectors such as health, education, and clean energy. In our 2017 book <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/books/going-beyond-aid/B48F59C6D8D2790D403A1A0C44B37612" target="_blank">Going Beyond Aid</a>, we urged developing-country governments to reduce their dependence on foreign aid, not only because it was becoming an unreliable source of funding, but also because other, better ways of financing development were becoming more available. That message is more urgent than ever. As reliance on aid becomes untenable, the international community must mobilise a broader array of financing sources to advance green and sustainable growth. This includes national development banks, industrial investment funds, sovereign wealth funds, and institutional investment in public markets, as well as innovative mechanisms such as debt swaps and public-private partnerships (PPPs). These tools can unlock domestic resources, attract long-term investors, and create synergies between public goals and private capital. Equity investment offers a promising avenue for engaging non-traditional development partners while reducing developing countries’ dependence on debt. Government investment funds, public and private financial institutions, and other private actors can participate by taking equity stakes in public enterprises, financing infrastructure projects, or joining PPPs. Such participation not only alleviates debt burdens but also improves the performance and management of public assets. As government-funded, mission-driven institutions, public development banks (PDBs) have the potential to provide patient capital for green and sustainable investment in emerging and developing economies (EMDEs). Building on the <a href="http://www.dfidatabase.pku.edu.cn/index.htm" target="_blank">pioneering database</a> of public development and financial institutions created by the Institute of New Structural Economics at Peking University, future research can identify effective ways to harness these institutions to fuel low-carbon growth. Responding to growing demand from the economies of the Global South, development partners have increasingly adopted an “entire value chain” approach to the green transition in recent years. This strategy facilitates transfers of low-carbon technologies, diffusion of digital innovations (including trade in services), and industrial modernisation, enabling countries included in China’s Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) to accelerate their shift toward sustainable development. Empirical research supports this approach. An analysis covering 139 countries <a href="https://ember-energy.org/latest-insights/the-first-evidence-of-a-take-off-in-solar-in-africa/" target="_blank">finds</a> that, following policy directives to incorporate green and low-carbon principles into the BRI, carbon intensity (CO₂ emissions per unit of GDP) among participating countries declined significantly between 2013 and 2022. These findings are consistent with another <a href="https://ember-energy.org/latest-insights/the-first-evidence-of-a-take-off-in-solar-in-africa/" target="_blank">recent study</a> showing how China’s solar-energy expansion has helped transform Africa’s power sector. Investment in infrastructure and industrial development can also generate positive spillover effects. Evidence from Sub-Saharan Africa <a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/jors.70023" target="_blank">shows</a> that the presence of at least one Chinese-financed infrastructure project in a second-order administrative region (comparable to a municipality) is associated with a 5% increase in nighttime luminosity – a widely used proxy for economic activity. Neighbouring regions experienced a 10-15% rise in luminosity, indicating that the benefits of such projects extend well beyond the immediate investment site.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251104131124_1a11d248a89b0785bc7d7f1d9f721e7e7a2563cbd579c3c672a0900220c19171.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20251104131124_1a11d248a89b0785bc7d7f1d9f721e7e7a2563cbd579c3c672a0900220c19171" data-rendition-name="original" width="720" height="405" loading="lazy" alt="development aid and China"></figure>  These outcomes underscore the critical role of infrastructure investment, particularly in energy and transportation projects. By improving electricity access, affordability, and connectivity, they reduce energy poverty, bolster public services, and stimulate economic activity in underserved areas. To meet the evolving challenges of development finance, both traditional and non-traditional donors and creditors should move beyond aid and adopt multidimensional strategies that combine trade, investment, infrastructure, green technology, and digital connectivity, including fintech solutions, to support EMDEs. Importantly, such collaborations should be viewed as a mutual learning process in which partners assume complementary roles and shared responsibilities. To be sure, there have been missteps along the way. China’s financing of coal-fired power plants before 2021, for example, had slowed reduction in CO₂ emissions. But these outcomes, once recognised as policy errors, can help strengthen accountability and foster self-correcting mechanisms within the international development ecosystem. Through ongoing learning and adaptation, global partners can build a more resilient, inclusive, and sustainable framework for development finance. © <a href="https://www.project-syndicate.org/">Project Syndicate</a> Justin Yifu Lin, a former World Bank chief economist and Senior VP, is the honorary dean of the National School of Development and director of the Institute of New Structural Economics at Peking University. Yan Wang is Senior Academic Researcher at Boston University’s Global Development Policy Center.

Development finance must shift away from aid

Imagine a high-end fair trade tea brand from Nepal that has done everything right, with ethical sourcing practices and international certifications. It has built a loyal base of socially conscious, premium customers in an export market and focuses on quality over quantity. Then one day, a government in the export market introduces a new ‘listing criteria’ that requires exporting a certain amount of tea to at least three countries in the past five years. But this was never a numbers game, it was about a niche market of socially responsible tea lovers.&nbsp; Suddenly, fair trade tea companies are restricted from exporting tea to that country.&nbsp; Pretty unfair for the company, for consumers, for the tea sector. More importantly, for tea farmers and families benefiting from fair standards. The overseas labour industry is facing a similar risk as recruiters, including those that have adopted ethical standards, may soon be barred from finding workers for Malaysia.&nbsp; On 27 October, the Malaysian Ministry of Foreign Affairs sent letters to five countries including Nepal, Bangladesh, Burma, Pakistan and India to ‘rationalise the number of licensed private recruitment agencies permitted to facilitate recruitment and placement of workers to Malaysia’.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251030141040_050274dddc6cf10224b0ad9283eec7b3bc3c0acd650543a808a8ea473ecf40db.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251030141040_050274dddc6cf10224b0ad9283eec7b3bc3c0acd650543a808a8ea473ecf40db" data-rendition-name="original" width="961" height="1135" loading="lazy" alt="Malaysia recruitment"> </figure>  The letter includes 10 criteria for private recruiting agencies including at least five years of operating experience, deployment of 3,000 workers in the past three years of operation, &nbsp;experience sending workers to at least three countries, a 10,000 sq m office maintained for three years, valid licenses and good conduct certificates, five employer testimonials, and operating their own training and accommodation centres. Two conditions stand out as potentially harmful to Nepal’s ethical recruitment movement. First, although the letter cites a minimum of 3,000 workers, it says three years in the heading and five in the body text. A big enough difference to affect a significant number of recruiters from making the cut, but problematic regardless.&nbsp; Second, the requirement to send workers to at least three countries disproportionately impacts responsible recruiters in Nepal and elsewhere. Turning the selection of workers into a numbers game is dehumanising. Responsible &nbsp;recruiters deprioritise volume, focus on quality of jobs even when business sustainability comes under threat as ethical opportunities that do not require workers to pay any feed and ensure greater transparency are difficult to come by. Sending workers is further impacted by a series of external shocks. For example, in the Malaysian context Nepal banned emigration to Malaysia for two years followed by the Covid pandemic, and then Malaysia’s decision to stop the intake of foreign workers for the last two years.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251030141040_b1b88b3ae2e94c6bc077529ac6f2a4e380a385ee9a22219edfed25067c9d25a1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251030141040_b1b88b3ae2e94c6bc077529ac6f2a4e380a385ee9a22219edfed25067c9d25a1" data-rendition-name="original" width="595" height="841" loading="lazy" alt="Malaysia recruitment"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251030141040_2cf252908d18aaf09c875002eef2d92ab45897a56b560addd2dc02311725c8a7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251030141040_2cf252908d18aaf09c875002eef2d92ab45897a56b560addd2dc02311725c8a7" data-rendition-name="original" width="590" height="238" loading="lazy" alt="Malaysia recruitment"> </figure>  Many ethical recruiters have focused on Malaysia because it is a more common labour market for responsible recruitment than other destinations like the Gulf. There is no credible justification to why responsible recruiters well regarded by scores of Malaysia-based multinational companies and with decades of experience should be ‘disqualified’ for not diversifying. Finding jobs for Nepalis in new markets is difficult given fierce competition, challenges &nbsp;identifying companies which follow the employer-pays principle, lack of networks and shortcomings in marketing strategies. These factors hit responsible recruiters harder because profit-motivated employers are often unwilling to cover the costs and fees associated with workers’ recruitment.&nbsp; “The volume of deployment does not determine a recruiter’s capability or the quality of services provided,” says Sujit Shrestha of the Nepal Association of Foreign Employment Agencies (NAFEA). Nepal recently scrapped the licensing renewal requirement that mandated sending at least 100 workers a year as it was impractical. The new Malaysian criteria is similar in nature, he added. The ball is now in Nepal’s court at a time when the interim government does not even have designated heads in the Foreign Ministry and the Ministry of Labour, Employment Employment and Social Security. When rumours about the Malaysian action started circulating, NAFEA had raised the issue, but was assured that this was not an attempt to set up a syndicate.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251030141044_83c8a174ef116603f747d1cd254c4d353e8b855a41fb99feec54e701f5fc4c3f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251030141044_83c8a174ef116603f747d1cd254c4d353e8b855a41fb99feec54e701f5fc4c3f" data-rendition-name="original" width="3456" height="5184" loading="lazy" alt="Malaysia recruitment"> </figure>  How will governments and recruiters in other origin countries now respond? There is precedence from Bangladesh. Dhaka-based journalist at the Daily Star, Porimol Palma who says, “Earlier, the Malaysian authorities had selected 101 Bangladeshi recruiters unilaterally, despite Bangladesh’s call for a syndicate-free recruitment mechanism.” Between 2022-2024, 450,000 Bangladeshis were recruited under this system with workers paying between $4,500 and $6,000, even though the legal limit was $750. Palma attributes part of the high fees workers had to pay were for commissions or bribes to recruitment syndicates. Adrian Pereira heads the North South Initiative in Malaysia says: “The criteria seems a bit fishy, as they do not appear to address the actual problems in the the recruitment of foreign workers. Some of the criteria seem to encourage a system of monopoly or syndicate rather than a rights-based approach. Every government has the right to set criteria for recruiters, but conventions and ILO (International Labour Organization) standards on recruitment exist. It looks like we’re back to square one.”&nbsp; Whether migrant origin countries including Bangladesh and Nepal accept the terms sent without reservations or push back in good faith remains to be seen. In an ideal world, a collective stance should put workers’ needs and welfare at the centre. How rational is the proposed ‘rationalising strategy’? What aspects of it are promising to curb recruitment abuse and what merits serious reconsideration?&nbsp; Even if the move from the Malaysian side is well-intentioned to address rampant malpractices migrant workers face, Nepal should deliberate on the conditions set, the collateral damage especially on the responsible actors and small but capable recruiters. Alternate options that might serve everyone better before rushing to respond with a chosen list by 15 November. If the proposal is accepted, how would it be done in a transparent and accountable way? It is noteworthy that Indonesia was not listed even though it has the most workers in Malaysia among the 16 countries that send migrants to Malaysia.&nbsp; The Responsible Business Alliance (RBA), the ILO, the International Organization for Migration (IOM), and certification programs like On the Level (OTL) also need to use their leverage to ensure that recruiters, including those they have trained or certified on ethical recruitment principles, are not penalised.&nbsp; This is more than just about protecting the ethical recruitment movement, but raising even more basic questions: Who can legally be a recruiter in Nepal? There are already obligations like hefty security deposit and minimum office requirements. But requirements to have building facilities with ‘accommodations’ or ‘testing centres’ are not among them. There are 1,150 plus players in Nepal’s recruitment sector, with a few hundred engaged in the Malaysian market. A unilateral selection criteria could risk foul play, or lead to unintended, unfavourable consequences. To be sure, overseas recruitment in Nepal is known for ‘settings’, corruption, dog-eat-dog competition, and collusion. The profiteering is out of control, often at the expense of workers. But the solution does not lie in stifling the industry with criteria like deployment volume, building worker accommodations or expanding office floors.&nbsp; The focus should instead be on enforcing rules and laws in both countries that govern the industry, and the Malaysian labour agreement that has not been renewed since October 2023.&nbsp; Meddling in the industry in ways that harms fair competition and ethical actors means workers suffer. The only issue that should be taking precedence is: how will Malaysia’s 10-point criteria and planned arrangement affect migrant workers? We have seen how for identical Malaysia-based jobs, one worker might pay zero while another pays up to Rs400,000, depending on the employer and recruiter. It is unclear if the 10-point selection criteria rewards the responsible employers and recruiters.&nbsp; As a longstanding host country for Nepali migrants, Malaysia deserves credit for nurturing the small but growing ethical recruitment industry here. Export-oriented companies in Malaysia need responsible recruitment partners and have mentored recruiters to strengthen their practices and move away from worker-paid models.&nbsp; The business case for ethical recruitment standards has led many recruiters in Nepal to pivot with many now in various stages of transition from traditional to hybrid or purely ethical practices. This progress needs to be acknowledged and built upon.&nbsp; Large, well-networked recruiters with large physical assets and high volume of workers seem to be the winners of Malaysia’s 10-point criteria after two years of waiting for the Malaysian market to reopen. Responsible recruiters endure long periods of minimal or no deployments that threatens their survival. The letter now sitting on the desk of the interim government in Nepal deepens the concern: rather than just failing to recognise or reward responsible recruiters, does the international recruitment market actually punish them? Upasana Khadka heads Migration Lab, a social enterprise aimed at making migration outcomes better for workers and their families. Labour Mobility is a regular column in Nepali Times.

Upasana Khadka

Labour Mobility

Who gets to recruit for Malaysia?

<a href="https://myrepublica.nagariknetwork.com/news/dhm-forecasts-above-average-rainfall-and-temperatures-for-2025-monsoon-28-10.html">This year, </a>Madhes Province received less rainfall than was forecast by the &nbsp;Department of Hydrology and Meteorology (DHM), reducing groundwater recharge of shallow aquifers which are the lifeline for domestic use and irrigation.&nbsp; The crisis was serious enough for the government to officially declare a drought emergency during the monsoon, with the province declared a '<a href="https://kathmandupost.com/national/2025/07/23/cabinet-declares-madhesh-province-a-disaster-crisis-zone?">disaster-hit zone</a>' in July.&nbsp; The monsoon scarcity hit farmers hardest, a majority of whom depend on rainfall for agriculture. Data from Dhanusa’s <a href="https://add.madhesh.gov.np/noticefiles/%E0%A4%A7%E0%A4%BE%E0%A4%A8-%E0%A4%B0%E0%A5%8B%E0%A4%AA%E0%A4%BE%E0%A4%87%E0%A4%95%E0%A5%8B-%E0%A4%B5%E0%A4%BF%E0%A4%B5%E0%A4%B0%E0%A4%A3-%E0%A5%A4-1752227917.pdf">Agriculture Development Directorate</a> shows that only 33% paddy plantation was completed by mid July, in comparison to <a href="https://kathmandupost.com/money/2024/07/31/fastest-transplantation-rate-sows-hope-for-bumper-paddy-harvest?">92% planting the same time last year</a>. Only 49% of agricultural land in Nepal is irrigated — farmers in the rest of the arable land rely on rainfall, private wells and groundwater extraction. During the dry seasons and droughts, water insufficient groundwater recharge worsens the water crisis.&nbsp; Nearly 88% of households depend on groundwater in Madhes Province which has about 100,780 shallow tube wells and 60,660 deep tube wells. But in recent times, the tube wells and hand pumps have dried up every year.&nbsp; This shortage disproportionately impacts low income families and small-scale farmers, who have no other alternative to irrigate their land. And because paddy accounts for up to 7% of Nepal’s economy, Madhes’ water crisis is not confined to within the province, but has serious implications on the national economy.&nbsp; Underground water Groundwater extraction for irrigation began in the <a href="https://jvs-nwp.org.np/wp-content/uploads/2018/09/Water-Nepal-A-historical-Perspective.pdf">1970s, </a>shallow and deep tube wells for irrigation were introduced with support from development partners. By the 2021 agriculture census, <a href="https://agricensusnepal.gov.np/upload_file/files/post/1731650149_1221316497_Agriculture%20Census%202021_District%20Summary%20Report_by%20Province.pdf">groundwater irrigated land had increased </a>to 41.7%, up from &nbsp;<a href="https://agricensusnepal.gov.np/upload_file/files/post/1694250757_1312300734_National%20Sample%20Census%20of%20Agriculture%202021_22%20(National%20Report).indd.pdf">29.8% in 2011.</a>&nbsp; A lack of strong policies and regulation to monitor unchecked extraction has meant that with the exception of some parts of Kathmandu Valley, domestic users, subsistence and commercial farmers, restaurants, hotels and industries across Nepal can draw any quantity of groundwater from desired depths and location. While the dependence on drilling for water has risen due to limited expansion of surface water infrastructure, there has been little attention to groundwater recharge. This competing use of groundwater threatens the fundamental right to drinking water.&nbsp; The ecologically sensitive Chure and Bhawar watershed play a crucial role in groundwater recharge. However, deforestation and indiscriminate riverbed mining has severely reduced its recharge potential over the years. In addition, widespread monoculture plantation of fast-growing non-native eucalyptus trees, replacing native sissoo and sal trees has compounded the crisis. Eucalyptus, a water intensive species indigenous to Australia, was introduced in the Bhawar region in 1978 for supplying wood. The Tarai’s recurring water crisis is not only climatic. Years of fragmented planning, inadequate budget allocation for groundwater management, as well as limited intra- and inter-government policies and coordination have contributed to the disaster just as much as droughts and floods caused by changing weather patterns. The United Nations said decades ago disasters are not natural, and they occur when we fail to prepare.&nbsp; Groundwater management is <a href="https://www.opmcm.gov.np/download/%e0%a4%86%e0%a4%af%e0%a5%8b%e0%a4%9c%e0%a4%a8%e0%a4%be-%e0%a4%b5%e0%a4%b0%e0%a5%8d%e0%a4%97%e0%a5%80%e0%a4%95%e0%a4%b0%e0%a4%a3%e0%a4%95%e0%a5%8b-%e0%a4%86%e0%a4%a7%e0%a4%be%e0%a4%b0-%e0%a4%a4/?wpdmdl=8990&amp;refresh=683b8df54ffef1748733429">the shared responsibility of federal, provincial and local</a> governments, but there is a lack of <a href="https://www.iwmi.org/blogs/stakeholders-in-nepal-work-together-to-enhance-collective-action-for-municipal-groundwater-management/">integrated planning, &nbsp;budgeting, data sharing</a>, and collective action for groundwater extraction and recharge.&nbsp; Sustainable groundwater use in the plains requires inclusive and equitable practices that combine water science-informed interventions with a long-term cross-disciplinary approach.&nbsp; Groundwater is mainly available either in shallow unconfined aquifers that are close to the surface and directly linked to rainfall and rivers, and deep confined aquifers between semi permeable or impermeable ground layers. Locating and mapping such aquifers would help us find what depth they lie at, how much water they hold, what we can do to recharge them and how much time recharging would take—enabling sustainable use of groundwater. Construction of surface water projects such as the Sun Kosi Marine Diversion Multipurpose Project, which serves a dual purpose of expanding irrigation and recharging groundwater, must be expedited.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251027071020_a9442084bc412998d3e7417cf0d057cae8a2b98f5e47ac1a8cc0630612ff2a55.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20251027071020_a9442084bc412998d3e7417cf0d057cae8a2b98f5e47ac1a8cc0630612ff2a55" data-rendition-name="original" width="1778" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Mitigating the Madhes water crisis NT"> <figcaption>Photo: ONION FILMS / IWMI</figcaption> </figure>  Such infrastructure have a conjunctive use recognised by the National Irrigation Master Plan 2019 and the National Irrigation Policy 2023, wherein farmers can rely on canals for irrigation during monsoon and groundwater during dry seasons.&nbsp; Nature-based solutions such as rainwater harvesting, managed aquifer recharge techniques, restoration of wetlands and retention ponds, and floodwater reservoirs, particularly in ecologically sensitive regions like the Chure Bhaban, should be explored. &nbsp; The management of green water — the water stored in soil and vegetation — is equally as critical as that of blue water (rivers, canals, and groundwater). Green water is lost through evapotranspiration, which contributes to nearly half of the rainfall on land. Deforestation, soil degradation, poor land use practices, and loss of wetlands contribute to the disruption of the evapotranspiration cycle, affecting rainfall patterns and groundwater recharge. Solutions Rising temperatures compound this situation by increasing evapotranspiration. Soil water conservation, vegetation cover, wetland restoration, and nature friendly land use practices must therefore be prioritised. Water-efficient technologies and practices including drip irrigation use of sprinklers, mulching, and soil fertility improvement should be scaled up.&nbsp; At the same time, we must promote irrigation techniques and technologies along with crop choices and cropping patterns that give more yield per drop of water so that food production and water conservation go hand in hand. &nbsp; The government provides subsidised electricity for irrigation starting at Rs2.3/unit, some local governments are even supplying power for free. While such subsidies support farmers and increase productivity, &nbsp;it also poses serious risk of over extraction of groundwater.&nbsp; Flat subsidies in electricity or solar irrigation must be replaced by targeted subsidies in order to balance domestic and agricultural needs with ecological conservation. The 2015 <a href="https://kvwsmb.gov.np/public/uploads/board_act_&amp;_rules/rule-1.pdf">directive for groundwater licensing</a> developed per the Drinking Water Management Board Act 2006 for Kathmandu valley prohibits groundwater extraction from shallow aquifers for commercial and industrial uses. The directive also has provisions for licensing, and renewals, and mandates for license holders to contribute to groundwater recharge. The Madhes needs similar context-specific policies to address its groundwater crisis and safeguard water rights. Shallow aquifers in the region should be prioritised for domestic use while <a href="https://link.springer.com/chapter/10.1007/978-981-10-3889-1_11">deep aquifers, which are still underutilised, should be tapped</a> in a sustainable manner for commercial, industrial and large scale irrigation and drinking water projects.&nbsp; While <a href="https://www.frontiersin.org/journals/human-dynamics/articles/10.3389/fhumd.2023.1181734/full">technical solutions</a> are important, they are not enough to solve Madhes’ water crisis. Nepal’s Constitution and the Local Governance Operation Act 2017 empower local governments for water management in their constituencies. But beyond the letter of the law, local units require community tailored groundwater policies, regular groundwater monitoring and up-to-date data, and investment in local recharge initiatives such as retention ponds, restoration of wetlands, and rainwater harvesting. Coordination between all three tiers of government is crucial, particularly among agencies that pertain to drinking water, water resources, irrigation, agriculture, land use, environment, climate change, and urban development. &nbsp; Heeding indigenous knowledge will be crucial to understanding the water crisis in Madhes and initiating solutions that will fit the context and needs of the region. Local engagement in groundwater monitoring can help to create self -aware, accountable, cost effective and participatory groundwater management practices.&nbsp; To ensure water security in Madhes, we thus need inclusive governance, coherent policies, active engagement of citizens, integration of local and indigenous knowledge and a principle of equity that puts people at the centre. &nbsp; Sumitra KC, a policy and governance researcher in natural resources management, is the National Researcher at the International Water Management Institute (IWMI), Nepal. Manohara Khadka, PhD, an expert in natural resources management, gender equality, and social inclusion, is the Country Representative of IWMI, Nepal.

Mitigating the Madhes water crisis

Public anxiety about immigration has become a powerful political currency across many liberal democracies. In Australia, as elsewhere, legitimate concerns about housing and economic fairness can be, and increasingly are exploited by anti-democratic actors who frame migration not as a policy issue but as a cultural threat.&nbsp;
When these narratives move from online spaces to public rallies, they do more than divide opinion; they erode the social trust and pluralism on which democracy depends. Understanding how populist and far-right movements weaponise migration debates is crucial to recognising the early challenging signs of liberal democracy.
Immigration has become one of the most politically charged issues in Australia, not only because of the numbers but because of its entanglement with cost-of-living pressures, housing shortages, and rent spikes.&nbsp;
The latest Household, Income and Labour Dynamics in Australia (HILDA) <a href="https://www.unimelb.edu.au/newsroom/news/2025/september/how-we-live-latest-hilda-data-gives-insight-into-a-changing-australia">data</a> shows rising household financial stress as Australian households spending more on rent and income tax. These changes likely reflect a mix of economic and policy factors but create a lot of room for people to hold inaccurate and occasionally contradictory attitudes on these issues.&nbsp;
While net overseas migration has started to decline from its post-pandemic peak, public concern remains high, amplified by populist rhetoric. Some surveys have <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2025/feb/04/australians-want-less-migration-but-oppose-cutting-international-student-numbers-study-finds">revealed</a> a nuanced picture: most Australians want lower migration overall but oppose cutting international student numbers, and support targeted skilled migration to address workforce gaps.&nbsp;
As former Home Affairs Minister Clare O’Neil <a href="https://minister.homeaffairs.gov.au/ClareONeil/Pages/how-australia-broke-its-migration-system.aspx">argued</a> in 2023, Australia’s migration system is “broken and un-strategic”, not delivering for business, for migrants, or for the larger population. This is a situation that frustrates both sides of the debate and makes immigration an easy political flashpoint.
The recent <a href="https://marchforaustralia.org/">March for Australia</a> rallies turned these anxieties into street-level mobilisation. Tens of thousands <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/czjmre371l1o">protested</a> at what they called ‘mass immigration’, while far-right groups seized the opportunity to inject xenophobic slogans and calls for ‘remigration’ into the public space. These demonstrations were not only about visa caps or housing and jobs; they became performances of who is entitled to belong.&nbsp;
When immigration is framed not as a policy question but as a cultural test of Australianness, it risks shrinking the demos, the very community that democracy is meant to represent.
What made the March for Australia so striking was not only its size but its composition. Recent investigative reporting <a href="https://www.theage.com.au/politics/victoria/don-t-mention-hitler-and-you-re-sweet-the-great-march-for-australia-deception-20250909-p5mtlc.html">revealed</a> that neo-Nazi groups were not merely present at the March for Australia rallies but played a role in covertly organising them. They amplified messaging online, coordinated attendance, and sought to mask their involvement to broaden appeal.&nbsp;
This highlights that democratic erosion is rarely spontaneous; it requires actors who deliberately exploit social grievances, mistrust, and polarisation to mobilise anger for their anti-democratic ends. The banners reading ‘<a href="https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2025/sep/01/how-do-i-feel-safe-after-march-for-australia-anti-immigration-protest-ntwnfb">Stop Immigration</a>’ revealed that public hostility towards migrants, <a href="https://www.afr.com/politics/federal/pressure-mounts-for-price-to-apologise-to-indian-australians-20250908-p5mt7x">particularly</a> from the Indo-Pacific, is growing.
For many migrants, these displays are more than conceptual debates about white national identity. They are experienced emotionally. Writing shortly after the rallies, Melbourne-based writer Jafrin Kabir <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2025/sep/01/how-do-i-feel-safe-after-march-for-australia-anti-immigration-protest-ntwnfb">reflected</a> that she had never felt so foreign on Australian soil. She pays taxes and inflated rents, contributes skills in the national interest, cheers for the Tillies and calls Melbourne “home”, yet suddenly felt unsafe because of the origin and colour of her skin.&nbsp;
Similarly, Chinese national interviewed by media outlet <a href="https://www.scmp.com/news/china/diplomacy/article/3325127/i-feel-insecure-chinese-nationals-australia-blindsided-anti-immigration-marches">reported</a> cancelling weekend plans and feeling “blindsided” by the scale of the marches.
Scapegoating migrants especially in times of economic stress is an age-old phenomenon and is not just limited to Australia. Across the democratic world, from the United States to the UK and parts of Europe, hostility toward migrants and minorities has become a route for anti-democratic forces. Populist actors often <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2025/mar/27/peter-dutton-keeps-blaming-migration-for-the-housing-crisis-but-can-it-really-be-that-simple">use</a> cultural anxiety and demographic change to justify illiberal and undemocratic measures, claiming to restore order while actually dismantling checks and balances.
By analysing democratic decay, scholars like Lydia Khalil at the Lowy Institute, <a href="https://interactives.lowyinstitute.org/features/democratic-erosion/">argue</a> that democracies rarely break down at once. Instead, they incrementally weaken through vicious cycles: declining trust in institutions, entrenched division based on hate, the normalisation of political violence, and the bit by bit removal of norms and guardrails.&nbsp;
Though some of the conditions are present in Australia to be exploited by anti-democratic actors, for example, almost two-thirds of Australians believe their leaders intentionally mislead them, according to the <a href="https://www.edelman.com/au/trust/2025/trust-barometer">2025 Edelman Trust Barometer</a>, &nbsp;but their presence is not determinative.
Australia’s democratic guardrails remain strong: independent courts, transparent elections run by the AEC, and a free press continue to hold power to account. Federalism and active civil society further diffuse power and create space for contestation.&nbsp;
But if public trust continues to erode and social divisions deepen, these safeguards will come under strain. Early recognition and action are crucial to ensure that today’s street-level hostilities do not translate into institutional regression.
Preventing such outcome requires a socially embedded understanding of migration, an understanding that goes beyond simplistic optimistic and pessimistic views. Policy makers should go beyond Push-Pull models, functionalist and neoclassical and historical-structural theories.&nbsp;
Consulting the work done by <a href="https://www.guilford.com/books/The-Age-of-Migration/Haas-Castles-Miller/9781462542895#:~:text=International%20Population%20Movements%20in%20the%20Modern%20World,-Hein%20de%20Haas">Hein de Haas</a> et-el, migration should be conceptualised as an intrinsic part of broader processes of development, social transformation and globalisation rather than a 'problem to be solved'. We need more nuanced views that have an eye for the complexity of migration processes and the diversity of its causes and impacts.
Sohail Akhtar is a Melbourne- based researcher focusing on governance, public policy, and migration. He contributes to Lowy Institute Sydney.
This article was issued by the Toda Peace Institute and is being republished from <a href="https://toda.org/global-outlook/2025/is-street-level-hostility-a-challenge-to-liberal-democracy-reflections-from-australia.html">the original</a> with their permission.

Is street-level hostility a challenge to liberal democracy?

There was a time when journalism stood as the last wall between power and the people. Facts were sacred, truth was slow but solid, and credibility was the journalist’s only currency.&nbsp;
But today, that wall is collapsing—not because of censorship or corporate control alone, but because of the seductive lure of social media monetisation.
Even seasoned journalists from respected media houses are now opening their own YouTube channels, TikTok accounts, Facebook pages, X (formerly Twitter) feeds, and Instagram reels to earn directly from clicks and views.&nbsp;
Others write paid newsletters on Substack, record sponsored podcasts on Spotify, or stream “news commentary” on Twitch and LinkedIn Live. The platforms may differ, but the logic is the same: attention equals income.
And to earn attention, one must perform.
In this economy of algorithms, the truth alone is not enough—it must be dramatic. A headline must provoke, a thumbnail must shock, and a caption must trigger emotion. Journalism has turned into theatre, where facts compete with feelings for visibility.
When every click means money, the line between journalism and entertainment evaporates. Subtlety dies. Complexity vanishes. Sensation rules. A small dispute becomes a ‘national scandal’, a harmless rumour becomes ‘breaking news’, and the private pain of individuals becomes public spectacle. The more outrage it provokes, the higher the revenue.
Even responsible journalists—those who once double-checked every fact—are now caught in this trap. They post multiple short videos a day, often with half-verified claims, provocative thumbnails, and exaggerated titles. They pick up anything that ‘performs well’—from celebrity gossip to moral outrage—because everything now has content value.
This transformation is not only embarrassing for journalism; it is dangerous for democracy.
Social media platforms like YouTube, TikTok, Facebook, Instagram, X, and Threads do not reward truth—they reward engagement. The algorithms favour emotional content, not ethical content. Outrage spreads faster than reason. As a result, public discourse is shaped not by facts but by friction.
What happens when the nation’s journalists start competing with influencers for attention? When the same person who once reported corruption stories now makes reaction videos for income? The profession loses its dignity, and the audience loses its trust.
It is not that journalists suddenly became unethical—it is that the system has turned them unethical. Platforms pay for popularity, not integrity. Those who play by the rules of truth struggle to survive; those who play by the rules of virality thrive.
This is how the soul of journalism is being auctioned—one click at a time.
Should truth depend on algorithms designed to exploit emotion and outrage?
Can democracy survive when facts are filtered through the logic of monetisation?
If journalism becomes just another hustle for followers and income, the cost will not be limited to credibility—it will be the collapse of civic understanding.
Media houses, journalists, and audiences alike must reclaim journalism from this marketplace of noise. Let news return to its true purpose: to inform, not to inflame. To reveal, not to perform.
Because once we trade truth for entertainment, we won’t just lose journalism—we’ll lose our ability to tell the difference between reality and the show.
Sunil Babu Pant is Executive Director, &nbsp;Mayako Pahichan and founder of Blue Diamond society.

When truth becomes clickbait

The United Nations turned 80 this year. What should have been a moment of pride and celebration at the high-level session of the UN General Assembly in September 2025 turned instead into an occasion of bitter irony.
At the UN Headquarters in New York—fittingly located in the host country that once helped found and champion the organisation—the loudest fireworks came not from commemoration but condemnation.&nbsp;
The President of the United States, boasting that he had “ended seven wars in seven months while the UN did nothing,” derided the very purpose of the institution. He dismissed climate change as a hoax, renounced the Sustainable Development Goals, and mocked multilateralism as an obsolete bureaucracy.
That outburst was shocking, but not surprising. The UN has long been an easy target for populist politicians. Yet even as it endures ridicule and neglect, the truth remains: if the UN did not exist, the world would have to create it again.
An Imperfect but Indispensable Institution
The UN’s failures are glaring and often heartbreaking. As the wars in Ukraine and Gaza rage on—each aided and abetted by two Permanent Members of its Security Council—the organisation looks helpless, capable only of issuing pleas and providing meager humanitarian aid.&nbsp;
Its impotence is evident again in Haiti’s gang warfare, Myanmar’s and Sudan’s military atrocities, Afghanistan’s gender apartheid, and North Korea’s saber-rattling, just to name a few.&nbsp;
It is easy to blame “the UN,” but the real culprits are its Member States—especially the five veto-wielding powers of the Security Council, who too often place narrow national interests above global security. Many others strangle the UN with grand resolutions and lofty mandates but fail to fund them.
Hiding behind sovereignty, many governments oppress their citizens, foster corruption, and neglect their global commitments. Meanwhile, the richest nations, capable of lifting millions from poverty, pour trillions of dollars into their militaries.
Still, despite its flaws and frustrations, humanity cannot afford to abandon the United Nations. The challenges of our time— poverty, climate change, pandemics, terrorism, cybercrime, and mass displacement—are “problems without passports.” No nation, however powerful, can solve them alone. Only collective action through a multilateral system can address the interconnected crises that define the 21st century.
For smaller or poorer nations, the UN is an amplifier of voice and leverage. Acting together, they can negotiate more fairly with the powerful. For big and powerful nations, the UN provides legitimacy and a framework for cooperation that unilateral action can never achieve.
The UN, for all its imperfections, remains a mirror of our world: it reflects both our aspirations and our divisions. Its hypocrisy is our hypocrisy; its failures are our failures. Resolutions without resolve and promises without action are the true reasons for its ineffectiveness.
Yet amid the cynicism, it is worth recalling that the UN and its agencies have earned 14 Nobel Peace Prizes—more than any other institution in history. That is no small testament to its contributions to peacekeeping, humanitarian relief, human rights, and development.&nbsp;
But it cannot rest on past laurels. If the UN is to remain relevant, it must transform itself to meet the demands of a rapidly changing world.
Time for Tough Love and Real Reform
UN Secretary-General António Guterres has launched the UN@80 Initiative to sharpen the system’s impact and reaffirm its purpose. A recent system-wide Mandate Implementation Review uncovered a staggering reality: over 30% of mandates created since 1990 are still active, and 86% have no sunset clause. Many require the Secretariat and specialized agencies to carry them out “within existing resources”—an impossible task.
Hundreds of overlapping resolutions and reports clog the UN’s machinery, sustained by bureaucratic inertia and Member States’ appetite for endless paperwork. Too many meetings produce too little action.
Technology now offers a way out. Artificial intelligence can consolidate and streamline reporting, freeing up resources for real work. Likewise, the frequency of governing board meetings—three times a year for agencies like UNDP, UNICEF, UNFPA, UN Women, and WFP—could be reduced without sacrificing accountability.
Facing financial crisis, political hostility from major donors, and a proliferation of unfunded mandates, the UN has no choice but to rationalize its structure. Some agencies will have to merge or move their operations from costly headquarters in New York and Europe to lower-cost locations in Africa, Asia, and the Middle East.
UNICEF has already taken the lead with its “Future Focus Initiative,” with plans to cut headquarters budgets by 25% and relocate 70% of its staff to more affordable hubs such as Bangkok, Nairobi, or Istanbul. Such moves can reduce expenses, bring the organisation closer to the field, and align it better with the realities of today’s world.
At the same time, the UN must take advantage of the tremendous growth in professional capacity within developing countries. Many of these nations now produce highly qualified experts who can serve effectively—and at lower cost—than expatriates from the Global North.&nbsp;
UNICEF pioneered this decades ago by hiring national professionals in its field offices. Expanding this practice system-wide would not only save money but also strengthen local ownership and credibility.
These are sensible, short-term measures. But they only scratch the surface. The real test of leadership lies in tackling the deep structural reforms that have eluded the UN for decades.
The Hard Reforms: Power, Accountability, and Money
Democratizing the UN: The UN’s mission is to promote peace, democracy, development and human rights—but its own structure remains profoundly undemocratic. The Security Council’s five permanent members hold veto power that can paralyze action even in the face of genocide or aggression.
That provision might have made sense in 1945, but it is indefensible in 2025. Yet changing it requires the consent of those same five powers. Only enlightened leadership in those countries and sustained public pressure globally can bring about reform.
Democratisation must also extend to how the UN’s top leaders are chosen. The Secretary-General and heads of major agencies are still selected through opaque bargains among powerful nations. These posts are often “reserved” for certain nationalities rather than awarded on merit. The UN must move toward a transparent, merit-based system if it hopes to regain credibility.
Reviving the “Responsibility to Protect”: Too many regimes hide behind the shield of sovereignty to oppress their own people. The world leaders agreed at the UN Millennium Summit in 2005 that when a government fails to protect its citizens—or worse, becomes their tormentor—the international community has a Responsibility to Protect (R2P). The 2024 Pact for the Futurereaffirmed that principle.
But R2P has rarely been applied because powerful nations invoke it selectively—protecting their allies and condemning their rivals. True leadership would mean upholding R2P universally, without double standards.
Disarmament and Development: The UN was founded to prevent war. Yet worldwide military spending now exceeds $2.7 trillion a year—nearly $7.5 billion every day. NATO countries are expanding their defense budgets even as social spending shrinks and commitments to the poor are cut.
This is moral madness. Humanity needs fewer weapons and more investment in sustainable development. Redirecting even a fraction of global military spending toward the Sustainable Development Goals would do more to secure peace than all the bombs in the world.
Fixing the UN’s Finances: Money and power often speak louder than moral authority at the UN. The United States contributes about a quarter of the UN’s regular budget—and uses that leverage to exert disproportionate influence. Other large donors do the same.
In 1985, Swedish Prime Minister Olof Palme proposed a simple remedy: no single country should pay—or be allowed to pay—more than 10% of the UN’s budget. That would reduce dependence on any one donor while requiring modest increases from others. Ironically, Washington opposed it, fearing it might lose influence.
Reviving that proposal today could help depoliticise UN financing and make it more sustainable. The UN should also expand partnerships with private philanthropy, foundations, and innovative sources such as taxes on global financial transactions or the use of the global commons. Such mechanisms could liberate the organisation from the recurring hostage drama of budget threats and withheld dues.
A Hopeful Horizon
History rarely moves in straight lines. Progress often comes two steps forward and one step back. Today, the post-World War II international order is fraying, and populist nationalism is resurgent. But in the long arc of human history, the movement toward global cooperation is irreversible.
We are slowly—but surely—evolving from primitive tribalism to modern nationalism and onward toward shared global solidarity. Multilateralism may be under siege, but it will rise again, reimagined and renewed, because our interdependence leaves no alternative.
I take hope from the energy and courage of Generation Z across the world—from Nepal and Bangladesh to Kenya, Indonesia, Morocco, and beyond. Young people are challenging corruption, inequality, and authoritarianism, and they see themselves increasingly as global citizens, connected through technology and united by shared aspirations rather than divided by borders or dogma.
If we can offer these young citizens opportunity and justice instead of inequality and despair, we will see the dawn of a more cooperative, humane, and equitable world. That, in turn, will breathe new life into the United Nations—still imperfect, still indispensable, and still humanity’s best hope for promoting peace and prosperity.
Republished under an arrangement with Inter Press Service (IPS).

Kul Chandra Gautam

Quo Vadis UN @80?

In 2004, Poet Durga Lal Shrestha asked me to translate 223 little poems from Newa into English. They were each written as sestet-- terse in their form but heavy in imagery and sentiment. The novice translator in me struggled to find the best way to convey his poetry in English-- but the process became a tour as I discovered my mother tongue anew. The highlight, however, was Shrestha’s handwriting. His calligraphy is immaculate. He had given me photocopies from the notebook he had written the poems in and each page looked as though they were freshly out of the press. The letters bore a consistency, unswayed by the emotions of his poetry. Sometimes, I would just stare at the handwriting in admiration.&nbsp; Someone else had been similarly besotted by his writing: “I met him 25 years ago in the UK when he was the chief guest at a Mha Puja event organised by Pasa Pucha,” recollects Ojesh Singh, writer and engineer. “We were roommates. I noticed he couldn’t stop writing.”&nbsp; Shrestha, an octogenarian now, was a teacher at Kanya Mandir School for many years, where his writing was admired by colleagues and students. Known as Janakavi or People’s Poet, a title bestowed on him by the Nepal Bhasha Parishad, Shrestha is also the recipient of the Jagadamba Shree Puraskar for his contribution to literature.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251021071052_b109f2ee6dbac911fb8002e8e8bb33a50a8f755d26662f333535d32c8573e782.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251021071052_b109f2ee6dbac911fb8002e8e8bb33a50a8f755d26662f333535d32c8573e782" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="Digitising the savant calligrapher NT"> <figcaption>From left to right: Suman Shrestha, Ananda Kumar Maharjan, Durga Lal Shrestha, Ojesh Singh, and Arbindra Man Singh. Photo: SUCHITA SHRESTHA</figcaption> </figure>  “He would write on anything he could lay his hands on. On tissue paper, envelopes, cigarette boxes. It struck me how neat and tidy his writing was,” says Singh. “The structure and size were perfectly in sync-- and as an aspiring graphic designer then, I fell in love with his writing. Later, whenever I read his books, I thought it would be nice to read them in his writing.” After sitting with the notion of turning Shrestha’s writing into a digital font for years, in 2024, he reached out to a small group of people who he thought might be allies.&nbsp; “It was during Ojesh Ji’s book launch that we met and talked about the possibility of turning Durga Lal Shrestha’s writing into font,” recalls Ananda Kumar Maharjan, who has designed the Durga Lal Shrestha font and is affiliated with Callijatra, an organisation promoting Newa calligraphy.&nbsp; For Singh, the desire to immortalise the poet's handwriting wasn’t only coming from personal admiration, it was also about preserving the writing of a language and literature leader and activist. He offered to fund the font project, which meant paying for Maharjan’s time and dedication. He also drew into the conversation Shrestha’s son Suman, who has been an integral part of the process.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251021071056_372dc34ac3ce3b70445128131a11ade8f321756c6cc7615825c4451e85f56374.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251021071056_372dc34ac3ce3b70445128131a11ade8f321756c6cc7615825c4451e85f56374" data-rendition-name="original" width="616" height="728" loading="lazy" alt="Digitising the savant calligrapher NT"> </figure>  The others involved in the process were journalist Arbindra Man Singh, who had been scanning Shrestha’s writing for the book Hastakshar, a collection of poems printed in the author’s handwriting. Also an enthusiast of converting Shrestha’s writing to a font, Singh provided help in bringing together the scans, based on which Maharjan picked the best letter for each alphabet to create a complete set.&nbsp; “Doing this was different from other font developments I have done in the past,” explains Maharjan, who has also digitised his own handwriting into a font, called Anand. “To create Durga Lal Shrestha’s writing as font, I had to analyse his writing archive and pick the best.”&nbsp; He adds: “There was a book published in his writing, so there were scans and digital archiving done by Arbindra Ji, which became the foundation for my work.” He had to find a prototype for each alphabet based on the scans. He traced the letters on Illustrator and copied them to a MAC software called Glyphs where he had to enter each letter, using a traditional Devanagari keyboard instead of Unicode.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025102108100_2f6b8c0f3cf91682707ac356e11ad50b342a4198f56490ab68d041e875b15edb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025102108100_2f6b8c0f3cf91682707ac356e11ad50b342a4198f56490ab68d041e875b15edb" data-rendition-name="original" width="818" height="766" loading="lazy" alt="Digitising the savant calligrapher NT"> </figure>  “I had to be very careful to keep it accurate. Conjunctions need attention,” Maharjan says. “There are half letters, saint letters, ligatures and open type features to pay attention to, this is more advanced than the fonts I’ve created in the past.” &nbsp; Maharjan has designed this font in three different variations that users can play with. “Writing changes with age. While young, people write better, but with age, it starts to change. Since Durga Lal Shrestha hasn’t been very well lately, his hand shakes when he writes. So, we had to pick the best of his writing from the records,” he adds. “People also tend to write in different styles depending on their mood so we took the best four of every letter and traced and picked one.”&nbsp; Handwriting is deeply intimate and in this day and age of tech, becoming lost.&nbsp; What bothers me about the day of phones is that I no longer know what the writing of those close to me look like. I no longer know how you press the pen between our fingers or how you tilt it against the paper or how you pause to write periods or how the nib makes a perfect tiny orb before you drag it just so, to turn it into a comma. The familiarity of the nuances of someone’s writing is lost on us.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251021071056_2c83ab2c3ed4cfa42e6a6a637d88fd879218fb5b7391e086ab5db1a8ec173654.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251021071056_2c83ab2c3ed4cfa42e6a6a637d88fd879218fb5b7391e086ab5db1a8ec173654" data-rendition-name="original" width="992" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Digitising the savant calligrapher NT"> </figure>  Ojesh Singh agrees with me. He says it’s important to keep handwriting alive as people become more and more tech-dependent. People are likely to interact even less with letters on paper, but at least we can have fonts, he says.&nbsp; A set of six books by poet Durga Lal Shrestha is set to be launched on 31October. One of them, entitled, Kawa, is typeset in the Durga Lal Shrestha Font. The font will be made available to the general public after the books have been released. In July, I had visited Shrestha, who I also call Durga Lal Taaba, as many Newa people in my generation do. Seated in the quiet of his home, he conversed about literature and language with my father and my uncle. Coming out of Taaba, Newa, which has a utilitarian function for me to communicate with my parents, sounded more like a lyric.&nbsp; I asked him what he thinks about his handwriting being archived as a font. He replied: “This body is going to be gone eventually, so I thought maybe my handwriting could live on.” Suburban Tales is a monthly column in Nepali Times based on real people in Pratibha’s life.

Pratibha Tuladhar

Suburban Tales

Digitising the savant calligrapher

I used to write a weekly column for Nepali Times under the nom du plume Arthabeed, and in issue <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/search?q=artha+beed+471" target="_blank">#471 on 9 October</a> 2009 the commentary was titled ‘Unleashing Nepal’.&nbsp;
It was about the country’s economic potential and peace dividend, and I wrote: ‘The list is endless and if we can make just a few of these ideas really happen, Nepal and Nepalis will surely be better off.’
It was not a great time to be an optimist, but there was a desperate need to see some light at the end of the tunnel. A glance at the South Asia Terrorism Portal (SATP) hosted at Institute for Conflict Management for 2009 makes one wonder how we survived those difficult times.&nbsp;
The situation was actually much worse than what it is today: the Constitution drafting process was stuck, there was never-ending political wrangling, the Maoist army was not yet integrated, and there were thousands of ex-guerrillas and guns around.&nbsp;
Then Prime Minister Pushpa Kamal Dahal tried to <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15944" target="_blank">fire the Army Chief Rookmangud Katawal</a> in May 2009, and had to quit for his pains. Even the New York Times wrote: ‘Nepal’s Premier Resigns After Power Struggle Over Army Chief’.&nbsp;
Rumour mills were working overtime like they do now, though social media platforms were not as prolific as they are today. It was text messages, emails and phone calls along with lurid tabloid headlines.&nbsp;
The rumours around coups never ended, and there were rumours about rumours. One such report read ‘Nepali Congress leader Ram Chandra Poudel said the rumour about a coup was spread by Maoists to demoralise Nepalese Army’. Poudel is now Nepal’s president.
When in May 2010, the Maoist announced they would encircle Kathmandu and declared a five day strike, it was a civil society that stood up against the bullying. There was fear that the Constituent Assembly would be dismantled.&nbsp;
Behind every action, everyone saw a foreign hand. In another one of my columns, I wondered then if the food we are eating also was fed by some foreign hand.&nbsp;
It was during such anxious times that my book Unleashing Nepal came out. Sixteen years later, in similarly anxious times, my third book Nepal 2043: Road to Prosperity is being published this week.&nbsp;
What has changed in these 16 years? Nepal’s economy had grown from $12 billion in 2009 to $44 billion in 2025. Remittances have crossed $11 billion and Nepalis reside in over 180 countries around the world.&nbsp;
The 2015 Constitution installed federalism with the concept of devolving power to the 25 million people living outside Kathmandu Valley. The size of banking and stock market has grown, so has the size of the private sector.
Nepal is sitting on $20 billion in foreign exchange reserves — enough to cover 18 months of imports. Domestic tourism makes up 60% of earnings in the hospitality sector, with social functions, internal air and road travel, domestic pilgrims dominating earnings especially outside Kathmandu Valley.&nbsp;
Nepal’s entrepreneurship has proliferated as online platforms help people sell, logistics companies transport goods and digital payment platforms ensure easy financial transactions. There is close to 100% electrification and internet penetration has accelerated the growth of micro, small and medium enterprises, transforming lives and livelihoods.
Just as in 2009, I also take a long-term view now as Nepal can aim to graduate to a high-income country in 2043. That is the year that in the Bikram Sambat calendar we mark 2100 — the beginning of a new Nepali century.&nbsp;
CORRUPTION CARTELS
On a long-distance trek there are many difficulties, some foreseen, others unforeseen that have to be overcome. One of the biggest impediments to Nepal’s economic growth have been corruption and cartels.&nbsp;
Last month’s youth movement was propelled by an anti-corruption agenda, and the sacrifices of so many lives will not be in vain as cronies and cartels are curtailed. Nepal was embarking on the next set of reforms, and what could be better than having the person who led the High-level Commission on Reforms, Rameshore Khanal becoming the interim Finance Minister.&nbsp;
No political party new or old can avoid initiating economic reforms in their election manifesto for the March elections which will be fought on issues that meet the expectations of young Nepalis — jobs, investment and global mobility.
There will be challenges. Like in 2009, the failed state narrative will continue to appear with parachute consultants landing and supporting a section of Nepali society that has benefited from selling cynicism.&nbsp;
People who have taken politics as a profession and usurped power and money will fight tooth and nail to go their old ways, and the country with them. There will be confrontation.&nbsp;
Nepal also needs to send a message to the world that it is rounding up the criminals who escaped from prisons and tracking down the weapons that were looted. Businesses and citizens need to feel safe.&nbsp;
Finally, we have to remind ourselves that we cannot change our geographical location and the current world order has brought our neighbours closer to each other.&nbsp;
Neither China nor India will like to see prolonged instability in Nepal and spilling over. And Nepal has to be ready to hitch its wagon to those two engines of global growth.
Nepalis are very good at taking super-long term views like a belief in the after life and undertake rituals to ensure a better incarnation next time. Perhaps we need to have a long term view about improving our current lives in our own lifetimes.&nbsp;
There are things to fix in the short-term, of course, but we have to plan for the future decades till 2100 Bikram Sambat.
Sujeev Shakya wrote the column Economic Sense in Nepali Times from 2001-2011 under the pseudonym Arthabeed. His book, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/retrofitting-nepal-for-future-shocks">2043: Road to Prosperity</a> was being released by Penguin last week.

Planning for the year 2100

New and old, businessmen and former diplomats, engineers and academics — they have all been trooping to the Election Commission to register political parties ahead of the Sunday deadline.
Till press time Thursday, five new parties had been registered and 21 new parties were in the process of applying. Behind the scenes, new parties are head-hunting, well-known figures are shopping for parties to join, while older parties are splitting or uniting to form new united parties.
“It is reason for optimism that people are enthused to form new parties,” notes political analyst Indra Adhikari. But, she adds, this does not mean that despite the celebrity status they will win votes and succeed in politics.
The outlier in all this are the Nepali Congress (NC) and the UML, which are still licking the wounds after being swept out of power by the GenZ protests in September. Neither are too keen on elections because of the prospect of losing badly.
Former prime minister K P Oli is the most recalcitrant, and seems to want to scuttle elections so Parliament will be reinstated. After announcing that he was stepping down, the NC’s Sher Bahadur Deuba has had a change of heart in Singapore and is gunning to restore Parliament.
Neither party and their leaders have shown any remorse for the 8 September massacre, or understood the outrage on the streets against their decades-long incompetence and corruption. &nbsp;
Among those registering parties are various GenZ youth groups and family members of those killed during the September protests. Notable among the new parties certified this week was Gatishil Loktantrik Party (गतिलो) backed by Buddha Air founder Birendra Basnet and led by sociologist Dinesh Prasai. Dharan Mayor Harka Sampang’s Shram Sanskriti Party is also registered.
Energy and Infrastructure Minister in the interim government Kulman Ghising has backed the Ujyalo Nepal with former secretary Anup Kumar Upadhyaya as its chair. Ghising has been playing coy about his political ambitions, and is planning to resign from his cabinet post before elections.&nbsp;
Ghising had been talking to Rabi Lamichhane’s RSP about joining, but that negotiation failed. Former RSP lawmaker Sumana Shrestha was supposed to join Ghising, but pulled out following Ghising’s reluctance to resign from government.
Ghising has much public support because he is credited with ending power cuts as head of the Nepal Electricity Authority, but is now getting flak for being unwilling to give up his ministerial portfolios while still wanting to contest elections. &nbsp;
Ujyalo has hit other snags. GenZ activist Tashi Lhazom, who was considered for a Cabinet position last month but was dropped by Prime Minister Sushila Karki, has said she is not in Ujyalo despite being listed as a Central Committee member. Another member has said that he will not be a part of Ujyalo due its “a lack of political culture”.
Even though Nepalis from across backgrounds and professions are eager to participate in the country’s new political landscape, there are doubts about the structure of their parties, ideology and electoral platforms.&nbsp;
Hurriedly set up parties without a shared philosophy have less chance of political influence and longevity. For example, the RSP was formed just months before the 2022 polls to become the fourth-largest party in Parliament, has lost its momentum, and its leader is in jail.
“Parties like the RSP, which did some positive work after being elected, have still not been able to establish a clear ideological roadmap or organisational structure,” Adhikari says. &nbsp;“It is easy to form parties, the real work goes into building an institution, which is the hard part”
Meanwhile, despite expectations of increased and inclusive youth participation not just at the polling booths but also on the ballot, only a few GenZ-led parties are applying at the Election Commission. They include the Rastriya Pariwartan Party and the Rastriya GenZ Party Nepal. Most other parties are led by men in their 40s, even in their 70s.&nbsp;
Analysts note that despite hopes of young blood in politics, Nepalis are still inclined to trust those with experience, as evidenced by GenZ’s choice of Sushila Karki to succeed KP Oli as Prime Minister after the September protests.&nbsp;
“So it will be difficult for young Nepalis without prior political experience to lead parties and it will be even more difficult for them to cultivate enough public trust to get votes,” says Adhikari.&nbsp;
Then there are the old political players, who have been breaking up and making up new alliances. Resham Chaudhary quit his Nagarik Unmukti Party and registered a new one.
Last week, Puspha Kamal Dahal’s Maoist Centre, and Madhav Kumar Nepal’s Unified Socialists merged along with smaller leftist parties to form the Nepali Communist Party (NCP). Disgruntled former UML members like Bhim Rawal have also joined the NCP. On the other hand, Janardan Sharma has fallen out with Dahal and is going his own way.&nbsp;
Even though the NC, UML and NCP show little sign that they have learnt their lesson and will be turning a new leaf, they still have the party organisation and vote banks to fall back on at election time in the runup to 5 March. &nbsp;
Says Adhikari: “At the end of the day, Nepali society remains hyper-partisan. And although the newly-formed parties and their popular candidates may give older leaders a run for their money, established parties will still benefit from their solid vote base.”

Party Time

The very first frame in The Lama’s Son starts with a vision of Shangrila and the quest of a mythical utopia in the Himalaya when the rest of the world is crumbling away. It is also the personal search of filmmaker Kesang Tseten, but what he finds there are adherents of the Bon Po faith clinging to the last remnants of a culture as it erodes away like the sandstone cliffs of Mustang. “It was while editing the documentary that the story became distilled: how does what we see in the high Himalaya relate to the notion of the Shangrila idyll that especially the West ascribed to them,” asked Tseten during a recent trip to Kathmandu from Berne where he now lives. He continued: “Often and perhaps rightly criticised as an orientalist construct, I wondered if there was any basis at all to the Shangrila notion, and I hung the film on that idea.”&nbsp; Tseten takes us to the vast vistas of Mustang and Dolpo, a landscape of his Tibetan ancestors. This is as much an intimate documentation of families on Nepal’s Himalayan rimland torn between remoteness and globalness as it is about Tseten’s own quest for rootedness.&nbsp; We start from Lubra, a 3,000m village in Mustang the 15 households of which follow the Bon faith. Lama Tsultrim is from a 900-year-old lineage of the animist faith and an exponent of the tradition that is slowly being subsumed first by Buddhism and now modernism. For Tseten, the material is familiar, and not at all exotic as it is for non-Nepalis and indeed for many urban Nepalis. Bon, founded in Tibet, predates Buddhism, but over time, the two religions have come to resemble each other.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113111156_ecf8148fbaa17b93c81ddfa3ed244bed266e3ef6af0cd5e6ca7b64c181b97d45.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251113111156_ecf8148fbaa17b93c81ddfa3ed244bed266e3ef6af0cd5e6ca7b64c181b97d45" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1080" loading="lazy" alt="The periphery cannot hold NT"> </figure>  ‘Both believe in karma, rebirth, and that humans can become enlightened. Nature and spirits are predominant in Bon, and rituals are what keep them benign and alight,’ says Tseten, who rarely narrates in his documentaries. “This is not really a personal film as such, but it has a point of view,” Tseten said. “I decided to have a voice-over on this one and cast my presence in the film.”&nbsp; Lubra's Lama Tsultrim is called upon to perform rituals from Kagbeni and other villages, but there is no one to continue the tradition after him, which is passed from father to son. Lama Tsultrim’s son (hence the title of the film) is a sushi chef in New York and has been gone for 20 years. “The Lama is like a setting sun, his son should come back and take over his father’s responsibilities,” says a local youngster chatting with friends. “If he dies tomorrow, where do we go? We can’t just light butter lamps ourselves to the gods.” It is not only the Lama’s son who has left. The village is nearly empty, and more are planning to leave. One of them is Chimi, a teacher who will be joining her fiancé who is an Uber driver in New York. Her brother is already in Hong Kong. In Lo Manthang a local is back home for a three-month vacation after being in New York for 12 years. A shopkeeper was in Japan for several years, and has returned. “Everything has changed, our language, our tsampa, our religion. We used to work and live together, now the children live separately,” says a middle-aged woman. “There are roads now, and vehicles stop right outside our house, but what’s the point? No one stays home.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113111156_47b4c4984fa33e42791b16dba1f078aaa7f9d8bd51ca3bfd5415b436c3a0bf2c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251113111156_47b4c4984fa33e42791b16dba1f078aaa7f9d8bd51ca3bfd5415b436c3a0bf2c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1080" loading="lazy" alt="The periphery cannot hold NT"> </figure>  Like most of Tseten’s films, The Lama’s Son is an honest documentation of a place and people whose lifestyle, culture and heritage cling precariously to the past. In Dri village we come across local women filling their buckets with water. Tseten asks them why the village is so empty: “Where is everyone?” The women reply that they are “here, there and everywhere”. Then it is their turn to ask Tseten about where he lives and what he is doing in their village. Migration is a recurring theme in Tseten’s documentaries from We Corner People, In Search of the Riyal, or Saving Dolma. His previous film Diversity Plaza documented the lives of Nepali and Tibetan emigrants in Jackson Heights in the borough of Queens in New York.&nbsp; Diversity Plaza was shown at DOC NYC in 2023, and The Lama’s Son will be one of only two Asian films shown next week at one of the biggest documentary film festivals in the world.&nbsp; “The Lama’s Son is not loud, not attention grabbing but intimate, so I was surprised they chose a quiet film for a big, flashy event,” Tseten told us. In Lama’s Son, we also see how climate breakdown is impacting Nepal’s trans-Himalayan regions. Lama Tsultrim shows us the aftermath of a recent glacial flood that swept away houses and fields. The debris-covered farms are as hard as cement.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113111156_c82126a3c2dc4577b99beb9bef20aafa16f532a3f41e59caea17c93914c59fff.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251113111156_c82126a3c2dc4577b99beb9bef20aafa16f532a3f41e59caea17c93914c59fff" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1080" loading="lazy" alt="The periphery cannot hold NT"> </figure>  The nearby village of Dhey at 3,900m is a high and dry cold desert. Farmers get one crop in a year, but the springs have gone dry and there is no snow in winter. So they are relocating to New Dhey, closer to the road. We follow Kesang Tseten to Samling in Dolpo, which at 4,200m is another Bon village. Locals are preparing for the Walchu festival in which Lama Sherrab carries out elaborate rituals to appease spirits that can turn malevolent. But unlike Lama Tsultrim in Lubra, Lama Sherrab has a community of lamas to help him, including two sons, one of whom will eventually take on his role. We move on to the adjacent village of Bicher and listen in as locals talk about how despite being dirt poor, they thrive in scarcity and are resilient. “We wear sheepskin, eat stew and yak meat, and drink wine. But we are very poor, we have nothing. Look at how dirty our clothes are. We may be dirty, but we have few illnesses,” says one. But even here in Upper Dolpo, a week’s walk from the nearest road, things are changing. There are mobile phones, readymade clothes and instant noodles.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113111156_d1472165cfa9ffa6edbf72de59167e8cbddcc2bf4a7928f7830e099966259a78.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251113111156_d1472165cfa9ffa6edbf72de59167e8cbddcc2bf4a7928f7830e099966259a78" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1080" loading="lazy" alt="The periphery cannot hold NT"> </figure>  At the Walchu ritual, Tseten watches men and women with hand-woven blankets and down jackets sing and dance after the main ceremony. He narrates: “Bon is sustained by a way of life that fosters a fine but fragile balance between nature and people, where humans come before gods. This is what lies at the heart of Shangrila if there is such a thing.” The film then takes us half-way around the world to a Bon centre in New York, but (spoiler alert) the eponymous Lama’s son never appears. He did not want to be filmed, but it makes for a more powerful portrayal of the life of emigrants forever trapped between two worlds. “Bon villages may be in danger, but the Bon has spread widely across the world,” narrates Tseten, a director who likes to call his storytelling ethnographic, and avoids coming to an apt conclusion. Lama Sherrab’s words after the Walchu ritual is a perfect segue:&nbsp; “Whether you say om mani padme hum (in Buddhism) or matri mi yu (in Bon) they are the same. When you go up, it’s the same heavenly realm. If you go down, it’s still the lord of death who awaits. There isn’t a separate heaven and hell for Buddhists and Bon, it has to be the same for both.” &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025111312110_82817ef48840bb6baa1732d5b0b90c90ead2f9bd9eb0c289940fa61d8058de8d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025111312110_82817ef48840bb6baa1732d5b0b90c90ead2f9bd9eb0c289940fa61d8058de8d" data-rendition-name="original" width="7087" height="10004" loading="lazy" alt="The Lama's Son NT"> </figure>  The Lama’s Son by Kesang Tseten, 2025 Shunyata Films To be screened at DOC NYC 16 November at 2:05PM local time, Online: 17-30 November Details <a href="https://www.docnyc.net/film/the-lamas-son/">here</a>.

The periphery cannot hold

It was pure drama: the political transition in Madhes unfolded by the dawn’s early light. At around 4AM on Monday, Province Head Sumitra Subedi Bhandari quietly departed Janakpur saying she was headed to Kathmandu for health reasons.&nbsp;
Outgoing Chief Minister Jitendra Sonal, whose coalition had begun to unravel, even saw her off, asking supporters to clear the road for her motorcade.
But an hour later, instead of continuing on to the capital, Bhandari stopped in Bardibas on the East-West Highway. There, as the sun started rising over the misty plains, she administered the oath of office to Saroj Kumar Yadav of the CPN-UML, invoking Article 168(3) of the Constitution.&nbsp;
Bhandari is also a member of the CPN-UML. The provision she invoked is typically used only after coalitions fail under Article 168(2), and the timing and location of the swearing-in have since drawn scrutiny.
Bhandari was subsequently relieved of her duties, and former National Planning Commission member Surendra Labh Karna was sworn in as the new Madhes province head on Tuesday.
Sonal had formed his government barely a month ago, with the backing of 56 provincial lawmakers but it became evident he would not secure the 54 votes needed to survive a confidence motion.&nbsp;
Several lawmakers in his coalition publicly signalled they would abstain. Still, the seven-party alliance that opposed Yadav’s appointment argues that the Province Head, who is the highest constitutional rank in the provincial structure, acted prematurely and under pressure from central UML party command.&nbsp;
A coalition of seven parties, including the Nepali Congress (NC), had been urging the Province Head to invite them to form a new government under Article 168(2). At the same time, the UML, which had been holding demonstrations outside the Province Head’s office in Janakpur, was calling for the formation of a minority government under Article 168(3).
The alliance of the seven parties that included the NC and Maoist Centre took to the streets. By mid-morning, protests had escalated outside Madhes Bhawan with cadre vandalising both the Chief Minister’s office and the Province Head’s office.
This was the third government in Madhes to fall since the 2022 provincial elections, and it follows a similar pattern. The previous Chief Minister Satish Kumar Singh of the Janamat Party, resigned before a scheduled confidence vote after losing the support of his own party and others including NC and LSP.&nbsp;
His resignation unfolded amid nationwide GenZ protests against corruption, demanding accountability and reform. The recurring instability points to a structural tension in Nepal’s federalism.&nbsp;
Provincial politics remain closely tied to alliances shaped in Kathmandu. The withdrawal of support by parties like the NC and Maoist Centre in provinces often reflects national-level calculations rather than provincial priorities.
As a result, the Provincial Assembly is repeatedly consumed by survival of the coalition instead of governance. Development work stalls. Budget execution slows. Public frustration grows. In a province that was at the forefront of the movement for federalism to counter what is seen as neglect, apathy and discrimination by Kathmandu, the sense that the system may not delivering on its promise is becoming increasingly pronounced.
If federalism is to be strengthened, provincial governments must be able to function with a degree of autonomy that currently exists more in principle than in practice. Otherwise, the perception that federalism is costly, unstable, and ineffective will continue to expand, providing fertile ground for anti-federal sentiment that is already gaining traction.
Earlier examples such as the NC General Secretary Bishwo Prakash Sharma in January calling for a new government in Madhes led by his party demonstrates how the central party leadership deliberately intervenes in provincial affairs. His remarks came during campaigns for bi-elections in Madhes when former CM Singh had been in office for six months only.&nbsp;
Likewise, in early June 2024, the federal coalition in Kathmandu shifted from a Maoist Centre and NC to form a new alliance between the NC &nbsp;and the UML. Within a day, coalition negotiations in Madhes changed to mirror this.
UML leaders publicly stated: “The issues at the federal and provincial levels will be resolved together.” This indicated that the realignment in Madhes followed national party decisions rather than provincial deliberation.
The events that unfolded in Madhes are a reminder that federalism in Nepal is still in transition, and that its success depends on political actors honouring the constitutional framework.

Chronic instability in the Madhes

The sixth edition of PhotoKTM will mark a decade of visual storytelling and continue its role as a vital platform for photographers and visual artists to explore the politics of photographs and their role in shaping our histories and futures.&nbsp; The month-long festival across Kathmandu Valley features 18 exhibitions, slideshows, workshops, artist talks, panel discussions, portfolio reviews, and film screenings. While Nepal Art Council will be the anchor venue, the festival will go on the road in Mangahiti and Chyasal in Patan, Nigu Pukhu in Madhyapur Thimi, Nandi Keshar Bagaincha in Naxal and Tribhuvan University. The curatorial themes of PhotoKTM 6 Global South Solidarities draws inspiration from the historic 1955 Bandung Conference in Indonesia, which marks its 70th anniversary this year.&nbsp; The festival explores the political and cultural legacy of the Third World Project, exploring the history of global resistance and solidarity, and how they have shaped contemporary processes to reclaim sovereignty of regions battered by centuries of colonialism, exploitation, and violence.&nbsp; The festival spotlights the work and curatorial voices of artists from over 40 artists based in the Global South, from Santiago to Lubumbashi and Quito to Dakar, alongside Nepali photographers and filmmakers. “We hope this year’s coming together will deepen cultural understanding among artists and cultural communities across the Third World, strengthen reciprocal transnational solidarities through the sharing of our histories, stories, struggles and hopes, and open up pathways for more south-south collaboration and exchange across geographies,” says NayanTara Gurung Kakshapati, co-founder and festival director.&nbsp; Also featured are eight Nepali artists from the 2025 photo.circle fellowship cohort, whose works explore questions, challenges, and contradictions surrounding the notions of ‘development’ and ‘progress’ in contemporary Nepal.&nbsp; The festival comes two months after the GenZ protests, at a pivotal moment when Nepal is navigating significant political transitions. Says curator Diwas Raja KC: “From anti-colonial struggles to the Bandung Conference, to the non-alignment movement and revolutionary cultural exchanges, these histories continue to shape how countries like Nepal imagine their place in the world.”&nbsp; PhotoKTM6 is supported by the Shikshya Foundation Nepal, the Embassy of Switzerland in Nepal, as well as independent non-profit organisations FreeMuse and Cultural Workers Solidarity Front. “I think it is particularly relevant that these spaces are created and maintained because it is only if people meet and continue to do this important work, in which they think collectively, they work collectively, and they hold up certain values, that they will be capable of contributing to what I would call a ‘free world’,” says yasmine eid-sabbagh, who is the invited interlocutor to this year’s festival. &nbsp;&nbsp; <h2>Ji ta Newa Bhyaa Mawa (I don’t know Nepal Bhasa)&nbsp;</h2> Jyoti Shrestha  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121124_0fbeb8abf122867f5d5294c6e4c7ef2a4e3785e2d4083fb663ebe543e9b8396d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251113121124_0fbeb8abf122867f5d5294c6e4c7ef2a4e3785e2d4083fb663ebe543e9b8396d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="667" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: JYOTI SHRESTHA</figcaption> </figure>  Jyoti Shrestha was born to Newar parents in Kathmandu but grew up without learning the mother tongue, Nepal Bhasa. ‘My parents, with the best of intentions, taught us English and Nepali—languages of success and survival in a world that had set ours aside... A Newar without language, I felt alien in the very culture that was meant to be mine,’ writes Shrestha in her testimony. Nepal Bhasa is in UNESCO’s ‘definitely endangered’ list. Shrestha has begun to learn her language with help from her parents, and in doing so, their relationship has shifted for the better. She adds: “No census counts the intimacy of a shared memory, the tenderness of language passed between generations, or the weight of an inherited silence.” <h2>The Land Remembers Our Name&nbsp;</h2> Rejin Purja  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121128_14b44a9e7a9d27c9ac5e893e59930d049d1be05401a42217c304a7d08c2e47e2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251113121128_14b44a9e7a9d27c9ac5e893e59930d049d1be05401a42217c304a7d08c2e47e2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: RENJIN PURJA</figcaption> </figure>  The Department of Mines and Geology has confirmed the presence of iron ore in Jhumlawang in East Rukum. Iron mining has not started yet but a Kathmandu-based private company is said to have won the bid at Rs40.3 million. If the project indeed takes off, most of the families will have to be evacuated. “Not only will they lose their houses, land, and forests, but their roots, culture, and autonomy are also at stake. How can this project be considered of national benefit when it forces the very people it should serve to live in fear of their future?,” Rejin Purja writes in his testimony. Economic development exploits the natural resources of native and indigenous communities. Such projects may boost GDP and corporate profits, but they rarely improve the lives of the people whose land is being extracted from. This work reflects the uncertainty felt by the local people about their village’s future. <h2>Fragmented Land and Me</h2> Sujata Khadka  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121128_f28f960361f822792d8e4442f61deaea71bdf6022b9906509b7e9258939fdbcb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251113121128_f28f960361f822792d8e4442f61deaea71bdf6022b9906509b7e9258939fdbcb" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: SUJATA KHADKA</figcaption> </figure>  Sujata Khadka’s ancestral home in Godavari’s Jharuwarasi was destroyed in the 2015 earthquake, after which her family built a new house on a small plot of land nearby. In the decade since the earthquake, rapid land trade has turned the farmland surrounding her home into a housing development. For the past 10 years, Khadka has been watching natural and man-made events unfold on the plots from her window on the second floor of her house. The land has been witness to playing children, negotiating brokers, bulldozers, and prowling wildlife. But despite relentless hemming and hawing by buyers and sellers over the past decade, no houses have been built on the land. &nbsp;“This misshapen land feels like a stage where a cast of characters performs an ongoing act,” says Khadka. “Perhaps this land and I are spectators to this drama.” <h2>Why doesn’t home feel like home?</h2> Karma Tshering Gurung  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121128_c568cdf076247f8904b289e9108ed4e7b5187d86694913751123a6b5df663142.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251113121128_c568cdf076247f8904b289e9108ed4e7b5187d86694913751123a6b5df663142" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: KARMA TSHERING GURUNG</figcaption> </figure>  Karma Tshering Gurung was born in Manang to a Manangi family, where he was raised with his siblings. But in recent times, whenever he has visited his family in Manang, he has felt a sense of unease, like the place sees him as an occasional visitor, an outsider who no longer understands the aspirations of his people. As Manang becomes a tourist spot, Gurung’s brother thinks it is a good idea to tear down their ancestral house and build a snooker house in its place. But Gurung thinks the house is their Appa’s legacy, and worth preserving. The brothers’ ideas of home have diverged. &nbsp; &nbsp;“With a camera in hand, I am trying to rediscover my relationship with this place, with my past, navigating ideas of home and belonging tied to Manang,” he says. “Maybe home for me is no longer just a place, but this search for identity, memory and connection.” <h2>Life and Struggle of Garment Workers&nbsp;</h2> Taslima Akhter (Bangladesh)  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121128_9447434bde6d70048768c33dda8001e4e3f8da0718c8fff8f96970c4d69139ef.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251113121128_9447434bde6d70048768c33dda8001e4e3f8da0718c8fff8f96970c4d69139ef" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: TASLIMA AKHTER@Taslima Akhter</figcaption> </figure>  This project focuses on the millions of workers who leave their villages and move into crowded worker barracks in the cities of Bangladesh, in search of a better life. <h2>Between Us, a Thread&nbsp;</h2> Ahmed Alaqra (Ramallah)  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121128_805845728d6e1fd13539d5c0af35f202f72ffbfb8e7dd502cc3c44067e2b574f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20251113121128_805845728d6e1fd13539d5c0af35f202f72ffbfb8e7dd502cc3c44067e2b574f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: RUBA ALFARAOUNA</figcaption> </figure>  A quiet gesture between photographers, image-makers, and those who hold memory like a fragile light. Palestinian, Arab, scattered — yet orbiting the same wound.&nbsp; <h2>Possible and Imaginary Lives&nbsp;</h2> yasmine eid-sabbagh / Rozenn Quéré  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121128_a30877e2c30764d5d29c0b0457e2722685138e968549dedd8803dee1299bc45c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251113121128_a30877e2c30764d5d29c0b0457e2722685138e968549dedd8803dee1299bc45c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo Courtesy: YASMINE EID-SABBAGH AND ROZENN QUÉRÉ(Photo: ) </figcaption> </figure>  An exhibition, based on family photographs and taped interviews, tells the story of four strong and feisty Palestinian-Lebanese sisters, exiled to the four corners of the globe. <h2>Martyrs, Saints &amp; Sellouts&nbsp;</h2> Siona O’Connel (South Africa)  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121128_7b84f695bdd27353af1f35ff5f739283d739b4fa7594e4965ca1230d4d60940b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20251113121128_7b84f695bdd27353af1f35ff5f739283d739b4fa7594e4965ca1230d4d60940b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: BENNY GOOL</figcaption> </figure>  Comprised of photographs by Benny Gool, Zubeida Vallie and Adil Bradlow, documenting apartheid South Africa, this exhibition presents a vivid narrative of violence, loss and injuries that continue to reverberate under the rhetoric of the post apartheid landscape. <h2>Humo, Semilla, Raíz</h2> Isadora Romero (Ecuador)  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251113121132_b01b94f340265fd42dcdffd98f39f58d3b1b3385718cb055d2b35e04fb1eda58.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20251113121132_b01b94f340265fd42dcdffd98f39f58d3b1b3385718cb055d2b35e04fb1eda58" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="798" loading="lazy" alt="The politics behind photographs NT"> <figcaption>Photo: ISADORA ROMERO</figcaption> </figure>  An alternate look into environmental issues through the prism of possibility, instead of catastrophic consequence is what this exhibition brings. Romero’s visual research engages with how the loss of ancestral memory and Indigenous knowledge resulting from colonisation, forced displacement, and racism is causing seeds to disappear at an alarming rate. <h2>First week schedule (selected)</h2> Friday, 14 November Bhandarkhal Garden, Patan Museum, 5:30pm -7:30pm Festival Opening + Award of Excellence Saturday, 15 November Yala Maya Kendra, Patan Dhoka 3pm-4pm Demounting Louis Agassiz – Artistic Renegotiation of Archive, Memory &amp; Place. Talk by Sasha Huber (moderated by Diwas Raja Khatri) 4:30pm-6pm Witness or Accomplice: Photography, Human Rights and the Question of Freedom. Talk by Prof. Siona O’ Connell (moderated by NayanTara Gurung Kakshapati) Sunday, 16 November Yala Maya Kendra July, Unfinished. Jaheen Faruque Amin in conversation with Sabnam Lama, 3pm- 4pm When The World is Blind – Images by Palestinians. Ahmed Alaqra in conversation with yasmine eid-sabbagh, 4- 6pm Manga Hiti, 7pm-8pm Slideshow – Who Does The River Belong To? Monday, 17 November Yala Maya Kendra, 3pm - 4pm Memory is an Inaccurate Place: Dialogues Across Time, Territories, and Histories. Isadora Romero in conversation with Tanvi Mishra 4:30pm-6pm Third Camera – a Film Series: Ernest Cole: Lost and Found Dir. Raoul Peck 2024 | 1h 46m | English Tuesday, 18 November Yala Maya Kendra Sustaining Art Ecosystems That Resist and Nurture – Part 1 Paola Farran in conversation with Jessica Lim, 3pm- 4pm Sustaining Art Ecosystems That Resist and Nurture – Part 2 Chelsea Chua in conversation with Tif Ng, 4pm:30-6pm Khapinchhen, Patan A Photographer’s Fifty-Year Journey in Nepal. A Slideshow and Talk with Kevin Bubriski, 7-7:30pm PhotoKTM Bhoé, 7:30pm-9:30pm Rs1,800 (early bird), Rs2,000 (door sale) Wednesday, 19 November Yala Maya Kendra 3pm- 4pm Sustaining Art Ecosystems That Resist and Nurture – Part 3 Andrea Thal in conversation with Diwas Raja Khatri 4:30pm-6pm We must refuse silence! Samir Eskanda, Shahidul Alam, and Tabara Korka Ndiaye in conversation with yasmine eid-sabbagh Thursday, 20 November Nepal Art Council, 4pm- 6pm Walk-thru at NAC with Enuma Rai, Jyoti Shrestha, Karma Tshering Gurung, Manoj Bohara, Manjit Lama, Rejin Purja, Sujata Khadka, Sushila Bishwakarma More details <a href="https://photoktm.com/photoktm6-schedule/">here</a>. PHOTOKTM6 14 November-14 December Kathmandu Valley All events free and open