The mountains of western Nepal have always been food deficit because of the lack of irrigation. Farmers migrated to the plains, where farming has been easier. But a searing heatwave this year accompanied by a delayed monsoon has led to a water crisis that threatens to undermine Nepal’s gains in achieving the UN’s Sustainable Development Goals (SDG). The climate crisis is a water crisis, and it has hit food production, nutrition and the availability of safe drinking water.&nbsp; Not everything can be blamed on climate breakdown. Wells that used to be the last resort for rice planting, for example, have gone dry because of a falling water table. In the highway town of Attariyia, there used to be five deep tubewells that supplied 4 million litres of water each day to the city’s 5,500 households. In the last three years, all but one of them has dried up. The municipality then drilled four more 80m deep wells, but even these have water only for six months in a year.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240630100656_5bddc97ff2727a37fbc7840675384f93678a8eeeb21136bda739f3e1af801bb9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240630100656_5bddc97ff2727a37fbc7840675384f93678a8eeeb21136bda739f3e1af801bb9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1949" height="1299" loading="lazy" alt="water crisis in Tarai Nepal"> <figcaption>Towns in Tarai are parched for drinking water, there is no water for irrigation. They have to dig deeper for water and even then, new borewells have dried up. Photos: UNNATI CHAUDHARI</figcaption> </figure>  In the city of Dhangadi with a population of 300,000 on the Indian border, the municipality dug three deep wells after household wells went dry. This summer, even the tubewells ran out of water. The situation is similar in other nearby border towns. Experts say the reason for the falling water levels in the acquifers has more to do with over-extraction of groundwater both in Nepal and neighbouring India, where farmers get subsidised electricity for irrigation pumps. The area’s industries and farms also have their own wells that have tapped into what used to be a plentiful groundwater supply. “The water begins to dry out after the end of winter,” says Phulram Chaudhary of the nearby town of Krishnapur. “And till the monsoon arrives in June there is no water at all.” Indeed, towns and cities desperate for water are drilling ever deeper for precious water, using up a diminishing supply in the groundwater. Milanpur town dug a 90m deep borewell, but it ran out within ten days.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024063011064_8a3fd7f3f9daa81d3e7dabe15e6b56d5000351e2ba040797a77cfb8e82903307.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024063011064_8a3fd7f3f9daa81d3e7dabe15e6b56d5000351e2ba040797a77cfb8e82903307" data-rendition-name="original" width="6960" height="4640" loading="lazy" alt="Water crisis in tarai Nepal"> <figcaption>Over-extraction of ground water both in Nepal and neighbouring India is causing water lavels to fall in the Tarai. </figcaption> </figure>  The over-exploitation of ground water by an expanding populating and growing household and agricultural use has magnified the impact of climate breakdown which has led to chronic winter drought, heatwaves and erratic monsoons in western Nepal. “Ten years ago, it was enough to drill 20 metres to get water all year round, now it is no water even at 80 metres,” says Kalidevi Chaudhary, a farmer in the village of Kailari. She adds: “There is no water for drinking. Don’t even ask me about irrigation.” Water expert and professor at Tribhuvan University’s Central Department of Environmental Science Sudeep Thakuri says research has shown that the groundwater table across the Tarai has dropped mainly because of over-extraction, denudation in the catchment areas of the Chure, sand mining in the rivers, as well as climate change. “We have disturbed the water cycle, and the climate crisis has made the problem more acute with long droughts and uncertain monsoons,” Thakuri says. “This means there is not enough recharge of groundwater.” The distance between borewells and tube wells has also decreased as Tarai settlements grow and water demand increases. Indeed, 140 boreholes have been dug in Kailali and Kanchanpur, out of which only 91 still have water.&nbsp; Additionally, water has also been extracted through 1,001 deep tube wells in these two districts, according to the Groundwater Resources and Irrigation Development Division offices there.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024063011064_dc58f42acd2c79ead04f8175b24deb04a3c05244f8b6929e4dd42fd1d2d679ce.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2024063011064_dc58f42acd2c79ead04f8175b24deb04a3c05244f8b6929e4dd42fd1d2d679ce" data-rendition-name="original" width="6960" height="4640" loading="lazy" alt="Water crisis in tarai Nepal"> <figcaption>Tarai’s groundwater is being used as a bargaining chip by elected officials, who have drilled arbitrarily to appease voters.</figcaption> </figure>  Nepal’s provincial and local governments have invested heavily in subsidising drilling for groundwater, as per the federal policy of maximum utilisation of groundwater with a budget to drill 100 borewells.&nbsp; Tara Dutta Joshi, head of the Mahakali Irrigation Project in Kanchanpur says that although the aim was to use the groundwater extracted from these projects for the next 20 years, six of the 90 boreholes have already dried up.&nbsp; While tube wells pump up water from up to 40m feet below ground, there is no water to be found at this depth anymore in most of the western Tarai. Meanwhile, boreholes require drilling up to 110m, and artesian water is extracted between 110-400m below.&nbsp; Experts say the Tarai’s groundwater is being used as a bargaining chip by elected officials, who have drilled arbitrarily to appease voters. There is a lack of research as well as policy regarding how many boreholes can be drilled in a given area, and how much water can be extracted.&nbsp; Sankar Dutta Awasthi of Kailari village says federal decentralisation led to competition among local politicians to see who could supply more water to their electorates. Indeed, 1,200 small-scale groundwater projects have been constructed in this municipality since the formation of the local government in 2017 in addition to larger-scale projects carried out by the provincial and federal governments. “Elected officials are far more concerned about how to repeatedly ensure groundwater projects in their constituency than about how this uncontrolled extraction is going to affect the region in the future,” says Awasthi.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024063011064_9da4708137cda6375aaf5953f857b643fe85d223b8d8fb2fcf81e66198f53377.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2024063011064_9da4708137cda6375aaf5953f857b643fe85d223b8d8fb2fcf81e66198f53377" data-rendition-name="original" width="6000" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="Water crisis in tarai Nepal"> <figcaption>One tubewell used to be enough to sustain a village some decades ago, while today even three tubewells in one household in not enough to fulfil basic water needs.</figcaption> </figure>  One of the bores drilled in Kailari was for Ramesh Chaudhary four years ago for irrigation, but the water dried up within two years before a canal could be completed. Nearby in the village of Rampur, a 200m deep borewell drilled for irrigation also went dry.&nbsp; “The water never even reached any farmer’s field, what a waste of Rs10 million,” says Chaudhary. Water expert Tarka Raj Joshi notes that one tubewell should be enough to sustain a village some decades ago, while today even three tubewells in one household in not enough to fulfil basic water needs.&nbsp; “The local, provincial, and federal governments’ water distribution schemes will have a major impact on groundwater levels in the Tarai,” says Joshi. “No one is thinking about what this crisis means for the future.” The shortage of water threatens to undermine Nepal’s gains in reducing infant and child mortality as targeted in the SDG because children are forced to drink contaminated water. Their nutrition is also affected as food production is reduced because of lack of irrigation water. All this feeds into the outmigration trend. The answer is to allow ground recharge through regeneration of trees in the Chure, zoning to regulate rampant urbanisation, a tax on extraction of deep groundwater, and channeling water from the Karnali and Mahakali rivers to augment supply so there is less reliance on acquifers. <h2>Water shortage drives Surkhet villagers out</h2> ----  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024063011060_7ce1243b2fe49f183bd338cc25af8347c1602badcdf112fcb53b03db9b116078.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2024063011060_7ce1243b2fe49f183bd338cc25af8347c1602badcdf112fcb53b03db9b116078" data-rendition-name="original" width="1536" height="976" loading="lazy" alt="water crisis in Tarai Nepal"> <figcaption>Rekcha residents marched to the municipality office with pitchers in their staw basket to demonstate their desperation for water. Photos: LAXMI BHANDARI</figcaption> </figure>  The delay in the onset of the monsoon rains in June meant that the village of Rekcha had a severe shortage of water.&nbsp; Residents started their day as usual, placing pitchers in their straw baskets by the community taps. But instead of heading to the wells to fetch water, they marched to the municipality office to demonstrate. The village’s Water Supply Struggle Committee was led by Ward member Tapendra Chhetri who had to resort to a sit-in outside the municipality out of desperation for water. Rekcha used to be an ideal place for settlers because of its fertile soil and plentiful water. Even though the 11 wells in the village produced enough water to sustain its families for decades, they have now all dried up.&nbsp; “Villagers now collect what little water is left on the bottom of the wells, using cloth for filtration,” says ward member Chhetri. “This village is dying of thirst.”&nbsp; The extreme water shortage has begun to drive residents out. Until five years ago, Rekcha village had 115 households, but 35 families have migrated elsewhere since. Khagisara Shahi was one of the villagers who walked with her water pitcher to the rural municipality headquarters. Like the rest of her neighbours she is finding it increasingly difficult to survive in Rekcha.&nbsp; “Our pleas fell on deaf ears, so we walked all the way here with our pitchers to make the leadership aware of our plight,” says Shahi. “We make do at other times, but it is impossible to live without water, especially when it is getting hotter.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024063011060_689983a311f320cec4427b7f0496cf9b4f6ff5dae0840bfec6b254d8c19abfac.png" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2024063011060_689983a311f320cec4427b7f0496cf9b4f6ff5dae0840bfec6b254d8c19abfac" data-rendition-name="original" width="1203" height="679" loading="lazy" alt="water crisis in Tarai Nepal"> <figcaption>Now that wells have dried up in Rekcha, the journey to other sources of water is even longer, and the drudgery falls on women.</figcaption> </figure>  Even when the village’s wells had water, it used to take hours of standing in queue for each household to collect water from their homes. Now that the wells have dried up, the journey to other sources of water is even longer, and the drudgery falls on women. “There is not enough time in the day to do all the housework, look after the farm and livestock, and fetch water,” says Shahi. Four years ago, the rural municipality made plans to bring water up to the village from the Karnali river, for which they allocated a budget of Rs17.2 million. However, the project fell through due to difficulties with road access.&nbsp; Chaukune Rural Municipality Chair Khadka BK says that local government resources alone will not be enough to provide drinking water to Rekcha. “The remoteness of the village means we need federal and provincial support.” Meanwhile, the villagers look down on the clear blue water of the snowfed Karnali River below, while their fields are parched and their children are complaining of thirst. Laxmi Bhandari This article is brought to you by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/" target="_blank">Nepali Times</a>, in collaboration with <a href="https://inpsjapan.com/en/" target="_blank">INPS Japan</a> and <a href="https://sgi-peace.org/" target="_blank">Soka Gakkai International</a>, in consultative status with UN ECOSOC.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240630110640_30c3782f9c09219bf1c249b51483a3cfb7a53a06d117d2aebd23ca7080d12758.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20240630110640_30c3782f9c09219bf1c249b51483a3cfb7a53a06d117d2aebd23ca7080d12758" data-rendition-name="original" width="680" height="103" loading="lazy" alt="SDG logo"> </figure>

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Climate breakdown magnifies western Nepal’s woes

The recently concluded general election in India was shrouded in irony. The six-week-long voting period coincided with one of the worst heat waves yet recorded, but there was hardly any discussion of climate change or environment-related issues in the public political discourse. The idea that the climate is political is clearly still to drive home to the average Indian voters, politicians, and the media alike.
The worst of the heatwave this year in northern India was recorded in late May, coinciding with the 7th phase of the election when many parts of the region went to the polls. In Delhi’s Mungeshpur and neighbouring areas, temperatures reportedly soared to 52.9°C. However, the Indian Metrological Department issued a clarification days later that there was an error in the weather sensor which resulted in an additional 3°C reading over the actual temperature. Regardless, the heat took its toll.
As of early June, the total number of heat-related deaths in India for 2024 was pegged at 219. Among these, at least 33 were officials and personnel on election duty who succumbed to heat wave-related stresses in the 7th phase of the election alone. Public sector workers in India are compulsorily bound to perform election duties as and when required.
While sweltering heat engulfed northern India, the north-eastern states of Assam, Manipur, Mizoram and Tripura were battling the wrath of Cyclone Remal which flooded multiple cities, destroyed homes, drowned railway tracks and washed away bridges, cutting off the region from the rest of the country. Incessant rains induced by the cyclone caused massive landslides in Mizoram which killed at least 39 people while dozens were reported missing.
The heatwave that gripped India during its mammoth election was seen as a concern in that it was deemed to cause low voter turnout (pictured, above). Many media outlets speculated how this would affect the election results and particularly the prospects of the ruling party. Some argued that the Election Commission should have taken care to ensure that voting days did not coincide with heat-wave conditions.&nbsp;
But there was hardly any discussion on what was causing these extreme temperatures, (or the cyclone), nor any debate on the responsibilities of government to address environmental and climate change issues. In fact, the issue of climate change and environmental degradation were conspicuously absent from the mass discourse as seen through social media engagements, and the mass media’s focus.
The election manifestoes of both major parties, the Bharatya Janata Party (BJP) and the Indian National Congress did include measures to tackle climate change and environmental issues.&nbsp;
The BJP’s manifesto had a section titled “Modi ki Guarantee for Sustainable Bharat”, outlining a broad range of plans to address environmental issues including climate change while also underlining what it has achieved so far.&nbsp;
The Congress’ manifesto had a section titled “Environment, Climate Change and Disaster Management” which aimed to, among other things, institute an “independent Environment Protection and Climate Change Authority to establish, monitor and enforce environmental standards and to enforce the National and State Climate Change plans”.&nbsp;
Climate change and environmental issues were not totally absent from the electoral focus of the political parties, however tokenistic they were.
However, the point remains that no political party leader or politician brought up climate change or environmental issues in their electioneering, not even when a prominent leader fainted due to heat stress during campaigning in Maharashtra.&nbsp;
While the Congress and its INDIA alliance partners campaigned for votes on issues of rising prices, unemployment, crony capitalism and corruption, and the dangers to constitutional democracy, the incumbent party based its campaign on rebutting the allegations of the opposition while trying to drum up religious and communal sentiments against minorities.
Clearly, the political leaders do not see climate change as a worthy agenda to bring to the masses in their campaigns for votes because the people do not seem to demand such an agenda.&nbsp;
According to a pre-poll survey conducted by a New Delhi based Lokniti-Centre for the Study of Developing Societies in 2024, employment, inflation, and taxation were the primary concerns for the average Indian voter. Further, a survey of young Indians by Deloitte in 2023 found that Indian Gen Z place climate change as their fourth key concern after education, unemployment and mental health.&nbsp;
The Indian millennials do find climate change to be a major concern but not on the same plane as economic growth and unemployment. Perhaps this explains why climate change and ecological issues are still absent from the political thinking of the masses. Perhaps the green agenda is yet to find resonance with the average Indian voter who places more emphasis on what is rather controversially called the ‘brown agenda’ concerning the fulfilment of basic needs such as food, clothing and shelter.
However, in the larger scheme of things, this is rather dangerous. Climate change is an existential crisis for a country like India where the majority of the population are poor and thus particularly vulnerable to climate change-induced disasters. It is a country that still depends largely on agriculture for employment and food security – a sector inextricably reliant on favourable climatic conditions to flourish.&nbsp;
In the face of a changing climate, the future of the present and forthcoming generation is at best uncertain. The public has the responsibility to demand that their representatives and governments address issues of environmental degradation including emissions, air pollution, clean and safe drinking water, demand afforestation programmes and resist unnecessary clearing of forests for “development projects” without proper relocation or alternatives being planned.&nbsp;
The media should do its job by holding governments accountable and informing the masses about the state of the environment rather than being beholden to the powers that be. It is of crucial importance that the Indian public political discourse no longer remains limited to a rhetorical and polarising agenda of religion and caste, but attends to issues of the existential threats of climate change and environmental security. India’s future might depend on it.
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 is being republished from <a href="https://toda.org/global-outlook/2024/climate-change-the-missing-agenda-in-indias-recent-elections.html">the original</a> with their permission.

In the heat of the moment

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131156/63723b569c7e80680e0c95b5jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1170" height="739"/><figcaption></figcaption></figure>As an unseasonal heat wave hit northern India earlier this year, Nepal Tourism Board launched a promotion campaign with the catchy Hindi slogan: “Garmi Se Behal? Chalo Nepal” (Suffering from the heat: Let’s go to Nepal).If current trends in global heating continues, that may be more than a tourism slogan.Many recent studies predict increased migration due to climate change-induced sea level rise, droughts, and extreme events. In fact, some of this is already happening in South Asia and across the world.People through history have migrated as a strategy to overcome various types of crises. Families and individuals take voluntary decisions to move to a new place, seeking a better life. Cities can act as powerful magnets for those seeking new opportunities.But increasing heat caused by the climate crisis is the new lived reality in the Indo-Gangetic plains. Rising wet-bulb temperatures (a combination of heat plus humidity) is emerging as a major health risk that could have significant socio-economic consequences such as migration.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131156/63723b599c7e80680e0c95b6jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1200" height="1200"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>An average ambient wet-bulb temperature of 35°C, if it persists for long enough, can lead to heat stress, heat stroke and even death. Sleeping outdoors at night or being in the shade cannot cool the body enough.Air conditioning can help, but low-income families cannot afford it. Surge in energy demand during recent heat waves has already caused frequent power cuts across the region as more energy for air-conditioning overloaded electricity networks.This year, I lived in New Delhi between March and June. The monthly electricity bill doubled compared to February. Increased use of air conditioning requires additional energy, which in India comes mostly from coal-fired thermal plants and add to greenhouse gas emissions.Chemical coolants used in older air conditioners models are about 7,000 times more potent greenhouse gases than carbon dioxide. Their increased use adds to further warming.In contrast to New Delhi, Kathmandu during this time felt naturally air-conditioned. But even Kathmandu Valley with higher humidity than in the past was uncomfortably hot in August and September. There were occasional power-cuts, and it was difficult to sleep without fans.Rising average global temperatures, heat island effects, and the degradation of natural ecosystems like water bodies and green spaces, combined with the added moisture in the air, will likely lead to increased heat in the Indo-Gangetic plains, Nepal’s Tarai and valley towns.So, will the rising average summer temperatures and heat in the Ganga plains and across the Indian landmass lead to increased migration to the cooler upland Himalayan areas in future?Theoretically, people may move to cooler regions like Uttarakhand, Himachal Pradesh, Darjeeling, as well as the mountains of Nepal and Bhutan. Just like when the British ruled India, they moved seasonally to ‘hill stations’ like Darjeeling, Shimla, and Nainital to avoid summers in the plains. When and how could that happen?Traditional migration patterns, however, have been the opposite, where people from the hills move to the cities in the plains for jobs and better economic opportunities.But during the summer, the Tarai and valley towns in the hills of Nepal will also get hot and humid. Temperatures are expected to rise in the Himalaya as well.There are other unknowns: How many people will move? Will it be internally from the Tarai plains, hot river valleys, or will people also cross national boundaries? Answers to these questions can have mind-boggling social and political implications.In the meantime, it may be worthwhile to reflect on past experience of the potential impact of mass tourism on sensitive Himalayan ecosystems so that we can take ameliorative action.Increasing heat will impact people’s ability to work, grow food, and seek health care. It will hurt the poor and elderly the most. In Nepal, we have not yet recognised increasing heat as a potential problem– both in terms of threats in the Tarai and river valleys, and the environmental implications of possible move of people up the mountains.There has been no systematic research of this issue. The least we can do is start to talk about it.Ajaya Dixit is Executive Director of the Institute for Social and Environmental Transition (ISET) Nepal.

Garmi Se Behal? Chalo Nepal.

From stone spouts to cast-iron mains, Nepal’s water system and its struggle to provide safe water tells a larger story of power, disease, dependency — and lessons for the future. From 1823 to 1891, the Nepali state made just two notable interventions in Kathmandu’s drinking water system. The first was when Prime Minister Bhimsen Thapa commissioned a stone pout (hiti) to tap groundwater within the valley’s traditional supply system. The second came nearly 70 years later with Nepal’s first industrial-era water system, the Bir Water Works in 1891 under Prime Minister Bir Shumsher Rana. Linking these two milestones was the spectre of cholera. From the 19th century on there were seven global cholera pandemics. <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0264410X19309995#bb0325" target="_blank">Originating in Asia</a>, the disease reached Europe and the Americas, the Vibrio cholera bacillus breeding in poor sanitation wherever it found it. The first wave erupted in 1817, followed by others in 1829, 1852, 1863, 1881, 1889 and, finally, in 1961, the seventh pandemic which still lingers on. London, the epicentre of the Industrial Revolution, was repeatedly stricken. In Britain ‘miasma’ foul air was blamed. &nbsp;In Nepal, cholera was seen as divine damnation. By the late 19th century, as Nepal’s relationship with Britain deepened, the Bir Water Works was inaugurated in 1891 as a defence against cholera. Whether cholera also shaped Bhimsen Thapa’s decision in 1823 is less clear. Contemporary records note the commissioning of Sundhara, but do not refer to the cholera epidemic raging at the time. The silence itself is telling: Nepal’s elites were ruling in the shadow of the disease. Bhimsen Thapa first resided in Thapathali Palace, which was built in 1802 by Nain Singh Thapa, father of Mathabarsingh Thapa, who would briefly become prime minister in the 1840s. In 1806, Bhimsen Thapa moved to Bagh Durbar, a new complex on the western edge of Tundikhel. Historians are vague about the water supply in the residences of the nobility, but wells and water hauled from rivers, ponds, canals, and other sources were likely the primary sources. A small hiti north of Bagh Durbar, near today’s Sun Dhara, may have supplied the palace. In 1823, Bhimsen Thapa had it enlarged, making it the last and largest state-built hiti in Kathmandu. Even as Bhimsen Thapa was involved in palace intrigues and border conflicts, Britain was engineering pipelines. By the late 18th century, Sir Thomas Simpson had invented the bell-and-spigot joint, making long-distance pipes viable. Fluid dynamics, dealing with pumps, pipes, and filters, was becoming a foundational discipline. In Kathmandu, the scourge continued. Cholera struck Kathmandu repeatedly, in 1862, 1867, 1872, 1874 and 1875. The 1872 epidemic, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/kathmandu-in-the-time-of-cholera" target="_blank">according to historian Tom Robertson</a>, claimed between 200 and 250 lives a day. On average, cholera killed between 1,200 and 1,500 people annually in Kathmandu Valley, an enormous toll for its small population. The summer of 1885 was especially calamitous: a cholera epidemic ravaged Kathmandu and its periphery from the beginning of June until late August. The disease even breached the royal palace, reportedly killing 23 people, mostly young girls. Records show that 909 people received treatment at the British Residency dispensary, and estimates suggest that as many as 10,000 people perished in a city of 50,000. In November that year, Bir Shumsher seized power in a coup. He inherited not only a premiership but a Valley ridden with disease. Cholera was endemic, and it was accompanied by typhoid, smallpox, goitre, syphilis, and chronic dyspepsia. The The British Residency dispensary at Lainchaur was inadequate. “In a poor country like ours, wealth means health,” Bir Shumsher remarked, an unusually pragmatic admission that epidemics were not divine punishment but structural afflictions of urban life. He soon pledged to expand health care. In 1889, he opened Bir Hospital and staffed it with Indian doctors to treat cholera, typhoid, smallpox, and other prevalent illnesses. PIPED WATER Bir Shumsher also recognised the need for safe drinking water. Between 1866 and 1872, he had served as Nepal’s ambassador in Calcutta, and he must have seen water mains already in operation there, and a filtration plant inaugurated in 1870. Madras had installed such a system as early as 1800, Bombay constructed the Vihar and Tulsi reservoirs in the mid-19th century. In Kathmandu British Residency personalities such as George Gimlette must have urged Bir’s government to quicken the construction of the hospital and water system, yet the archival traces of such exchanges still await historical scrutiny. By the late 19th century, the British had developed a technological ecosystem for water supply, intakes, pipes, fittings, reservoirs, and trained engineers. Bir Shumsher appealed to the British Government in India for engineering assistance. A British engineer named Mr Feigneur surveyed Kathmandu to prepare maps, and estimated the volume of water that could be brought from the Rudramati River. In 1889, a more experienced engineer, Lockhart Matthew Sinclair arrived. He was a Scotsman educated at Wellington College and the Royal Indian Engineering College, with prior experience in constructing waterworks in Jubbulpore and the Viceregal Palace in Shimla. Appointed State Engineer of Nepal (1889–1892), Sinclair reviewed Feigneur’s plans, updated them, and chose the Bishnumati River as the source of the city’s drinking water. Sinclair’s design included a reservoir at Panipokhari, at 1,330m elevation and 30m above &nbsp;Tundikhel, thereby enabling gravity-fed distribution in pipes. With a capacity of 7,327 cubic metres, the reservoir could store nine days of supply.&nbsp; The system was designed to serve about 70,000 residents through both private connections and public standpipes. The reservoir was a single-compartment tank with an arched brick roof covered in earth and turf. Its brick walls were bonded with lime mortar and aggregate, and its floor was dressed with fly stone. Work on the valley’s water supply began in 1888, three years after Bir Shumsher seized power. The following year, Bir Hospital and the Bir Water Works took shape. The project involved some 40km of imported cast-iron pipes, weighing 1.866 million kg and inscribed with the marks of Scottish foundries ‘Ally and McLean’ and ‘Glasgow’. Construction required 620,000 man-days of labour and cost over Rs600,000. Transport costs inflated prices: <a href="https://commons-nepal.com/the-first-kaldhara-in-the-four-cities-of-the-valley/" target="_blank">a load of cement</a> costing Rs10 in Calcutta was worth Rs33 by the time it reached Kathmandu. Bir Water Works was inaugurated in September 1891, six years after the cholera epidemic. Water flowed out of 131 taps, including eight in Lainchaur, six in the royal palace, eleven in the prime minister’s palace, sixteen around Tundikhel, thirteen in Thapathali, seven in Thamel, and two in Naxal. The system’s designation, the term ‘works’ , echoes the Chelsea, Calcutta, and Glasgow Water Works, underlining its industrial pedigree. Water was also supplied to Phora Durbar, Bir Shumsher’s palace of music and dance whose fountains sprayed rose-scented water in a display of opulence. The <a href="https://commons-nepal.com/the-first-kaldhara-in-" target="_blank">Bir Dhara Works</a> was more than an engineering scheme: it was Nepal’s first modern public-health intervention. Safer drinking water curbed waterborne disease, and the number of cholera outbreaks declined, but were not eliminated.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260103020144_d5c22de54c0eaab680a166c5a7482839fdc09b60679109021d0504252a810254.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260103020144_d5c22de54c0eaab680a166c5a7482839fdc09b60679109021d0504252a810254" data-rendition-name="original" width="865" height="535" loading="lazy" alt="Cholera and drinking water in Kathmandu"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260103020144_a46075b6d759585df56a2bb8e5a07d85de7d9a69406165c32784fe30012c9971.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260103020144_a46075b6d759585df56a2bb8e5a07d85de7d9a69406165c32784fe30012c9971" data-rendition-name="original" width="2791" height="3859" loading="lazy" alt="Cholera and drinking water in Kathmandu"> </figure>  “Now we have water to fight cholera, and I believe cholera will no longer prevail. After four years of piped water, the benefits have been greater than expected,” Bir Shumsher said in a proclamation. Despite this, the prevalence of poor sanitation, open defecation, cramped housing, and malnutrition meant that typhoid, smallpox, and dyspepsia remained endemic. The Bir Dhara system marked Kathmandu’s transition from reliance on wells, rivers, springs, and hiti to piped water, operating for several decades and laying the foundation for the expansion of drinking water services across the country in the late twentieth century. <a href="https://commons-nepal.com/the-first-kaldhara-in-the-four-cities-of-the-valley/" target="_blank">Extensions followed in Patan</a> under Chandra Shumsher, and Bhim Shumsher later added the Tri Bhim Dhara. Piped water systems were subsequently constructed in towns such as Kirtipur, Bhaktapur, Dhankuta, Pokhara, Dhulikhel, and Jajarkot which itself saw a deadly cholera outbreak in 2009.&nbsp; CHOLERA METAPHOR In 1933, Nepal’s first water bureaucracy, the Pani Goswara, was established, formalising state involvement in urban water supply. Yet even till the late 20th century, households continue to rely on a mix of sources, including public water networks, private vendors, rooftop storage tanks, borewells, wells, hiti, and household filtration. The lack of reliable water supply places disproportionate financial, physical, and psychological burdens on low-income households, underscoring how decades of infrastructure expansion have not translated into universal, reliable service. during challenges in governance, investment priorities, and regulation. Bir Shumsher also attempted to introduce <a href="https://www.ukaalo.com/news/cholera-in-kathmandu-1958/" target="_blank">basic hygiene measures</a>, such as pit latrines with squatting slabs. However, there is no record of these facilities being built in his palaces, later built palaces, or elsewhere. Sanitation conditions remained poor for both the elite and the general population. Open defecation or the use of crude pit latrines without proper waste disposal was common. With no drainage or sewer systems, human waste accumulated near homes, contributing to the spread of waterborne diseases. In 2019, Nepal declared itself ‘open defecation free’, a policy milestone, but this achievement masks the persistence of deeper problems. Urban areas generate some 867 million litres of wastewater daily, yet only 7% of it is treated before being discharged. Sewage flows untreated into rivers and streams, spreading cholera, typhoid, dysentery, and other diseases, particularly among children and vulnerable communities. Safe disposal of faecal sludge continues to be a major struggle for many communities and local governments. Besides Jajarkot, Godavari in Kathmandu Valley had a localised outbreak in 2024. This year, Birganj was struck by a cholera outbreak caused by a lethal combination of unreliable water supply, groundwater overpumping, poor drainage and hygiene, and unsafe waste disposal. And Nepal’s peacekeepers deployed after the earthquake in Haiti in 2010 were blamed for spreading cholera that ultimately killed 30,000 people in the Caribbean nation. The Bir Water Works was more than a reservoir and pipes. It was Nepal’s first brush with modernity, mediated through engineering and haunted by cholera. More than 134 years on, cholera remains a threat and a reminder of Nepal’s challenges in water and sanitation governance. The issue is not merely ensuring access to safe water but also building public trust that quality essential services can be delivered equitably, sustainably, and with resilience. Ajaya Dixit is a Kathmandu-based researcher exploring Nepal’s water history since the mid-eighteenth century to inform ethical water and river management in a changing climate.

Life in a time of cholera

As someone born and raised in Patan, I knew that the city was rich in art, architecture and intangible heritage. But I never realised just how rich, and how little I knew about its hidden treasures until this book. Yala Mhasika/Exploring Lalitpur/Lalitpurko Chinari is published by the Lalitpur Chamber of Commerce &amp; Industry and introduces the city to the world, as well as to its own inhabitants. Lalitpur is popularly known as Patan, probably because of the pastures for livestock in its outskirts. Its original name in Nepal Bhasa is Yala, and is a blend of urban and rural, old and new.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_700fb4c7b27d78813f69347846403c492cd1d54e2f62e4ec097013714c4a2022.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260101120152_700fb4c7b27d78813f69347846403c492cd1d54e2f62e4ec097013714c4a2022" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Patan Dhoka</figcaption> </figure>  Like other kingdoms in the valley of Swoniga, the dense urban cluster of houses, temples, monasteries were situated along the higher ground, while the farmlands were on the slopes leading to the rivers below. This unique townscape combined an urban lifestyle within a distinctly agriculture-based rural setting. The fertile soil, replenished by organic nutrients washed down from the streets above, as well as Kathmandu’s location on the ancient trade route between India and Tibet, provided the Valley’s kingdoms with prosperity – and thus the flourishing of art and culture over centuries. Most of Yala’s residents were farmers, traders, or artisans. Chinese visitors who came to Nepal in the 6th century saw that there were more traders than farmers, and more temples than houses. An entire street is inhabited by the descendants of Lhasa traders. Arniko is supposed to have been born in Yala.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_0fb490355fac9b8252c9abfbf5ef1bbac844b29103744a421eb6ef6dbc77dff7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260101120152_0fb490355fac9b8252c9abfbf5ef1bbac844b29103744a421eb6ef6dbc77dff7" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1332" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Kwonti area which houses five-storey Kumbeshwar temple dedicated to Shiva and Baglamukhi temple dedicated to Dasa Mahavidya shakti peeth.</figcaption> </figure>  Nepal exported goods and even minted coins for Tibet, and had a virtual monopoly of the major trans-Himalayan trade routes. This prosperity was reflected in monuments and shrines like the Kwa Baha Golden Temple. More so than the other three kingdoms of Swoniga, architecture flourished in Yala making it the centre for metal, stone and wood craft. The name Lalitpur means ‘city of fine art’ but with its sense of community, it might as well be a city of fine living. Legend also has it that the name Lalitpur comes from a farmer called Lalit who helped bring the rain god Karunamaya from Assam when the Valley was suffering a prolonged drought. Lalit’s shoulder beam stands to this day in Jhatapol. Disasters, invasion and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/life-in-a-time-of-cholera">epidemics</a> were a recurring theme in Patan.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_b33b1024cb7a46f49fea35ecc9afa2740895907059d7a43c8bd6c463b1be05e7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260101120152_b33b1024cb7a46f49fea35ecc9afa2740895907059d7a43c8bd6c463b1be05e7" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Ajima of Haugal Tole which is the oldest stone scripture in Nepal with the Gaja Laxmi in Chyasal.</figcaption> </figure>  The book was put together by the heritage expert team of Rosha Bajracharya, Sunil Pandey and Anil Chitrakar and provides a socio-economic and political history of Patan – how it was always food surplus, thanks to sustainable farming until recently. Ground and drone images by Photo Venture Nepal in the book give us a rare new perspective on Patan. There is an entire chapter on the chariot festival of Karunamaya (Machhindranath), a community-managed festival with Barahi carpenters assembling the woodwork, vine engineers Yamva weaving rope and rattan for the 25m tall chariot, and Ghaku drivers controlling the speed and brakes as the structure rolls through narrow streets in the annual festival.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_d27b23aeb4548b0b64ab8ed20f40baa331060498c6b5443e2cb999b876c670af.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260101120152_d27b23aeb4548b0b64ab8ed20f40baa331060498c6b5443e2cb999b876c670af" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Te Bahal in Patan which houses Karunamaya six months a year.</figcaption> </figure>  WALKING, WORSHIPPING The book can help in exploring Patan along five routes starting in Patan Dhoka, Pulchok, Shankhamul, Mahaboudha and Lagankhel with maps and details of the baha and bahil, shrines, ponds, open spaces, dhyochenn, courtyards and phalcha along the way. Because of its coffee-table size and heft, however, the guidebook is not practical to carry around. And despite detailed descriptions of the past and present of each site, readers are left wanting to know more about those places. It is proof of Patan’s vast treasures that even this book barely scratches the surface.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_31a597b7dc1bcc9f67b4f6a66b8c1c0e0a9406727389699e6aed9ac6c3c50901.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20260101120152_31a597b7dc1bcc9f67b4f6a66b8c1c0e0a9406727389699e6aed9ac6c3c50901" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1332" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Patukodom where visitors can view what remains of the ancient Kirant palace.</figcaption> </figure>  Some of the lesser-known must-visit sites include Patukodom which is all that remains of a palace of the original Kirat inhabitants of Patan. An archaeological dig here would surely unearth hitherto unknown facets of pre-Newa Patan. Then there are the slightly out of the way shrines like Mahabouha, a replica of a temple in Bodhgaya which houses 3,341 terracotta Buddhas with 90 big statues and which took 35 years and four generations to complete.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_ffb657dc254f707dc1755f6f13b1ef67bb7183b6573da9678c54482129fb3878.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20260101120152_ffb657dc254f707dc1755f6f13b1ef67bb7183b6573da9678c54482129fb3878" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Mahaboudha is a replica of a temple in Bodhgaya.</figcaption> </figure>  In a recent Patan by Night heritage walk, we learnt that Pim Bahal was the labour of love of a lakhe demon (now popularised as masked dancer) who had fallen for a local girl, and he dug the pond so she would not have to walk to a faraway spout to collect water. Nearby is the Charumati Chaitya, built by the daughter of Emperor Ashoka when she visited the Valley in the 3rd century BCE to spread Buddhism in Nepal. Interestingly, if Kathmandu is a city of temples, Patan is the centre of monasteries which represent a unique Tantric melding of Buddhist and Hindu forms. Examples are: the Tadham Cuka with relocated Licchavi-era chaityas symbolic of the four major events in Buddha’s life, Ajima of Haugal Tole which is the oldest stone scripture in Nepal with the Gaja Laxmi in Chyasal, and Bignantak Ganesa temple which is a manifestation of Shiva mingled with Vajrayana Buddhism.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_17a500e77f06b9881f684329e41d3482f6f6a639ffb929d8bb44e5af7934c61c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20260101120152_17a500e77f06b9881f684329e41d3482f6f6a639ffb929d8bb44e5af7934c61c" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Bignantak Ganesa temple.</figcaption> </figure>  &nbsp;Besides spatial descriptions, the book also explains the temporal by curating a detailed cultural calendar of Lalitpur with dates and places of jatra, rituals, devotional dances and festivals that weave the agricultural cycle with the zodiac.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_b8e1cc03653fea85dec84a7abee4fd594c35c6ad553769f37905eb5b38774e08.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20260101120152_b8e1cc03653fea85dec84a7abee4fd594c35c6ad553769f37905eb5b38774e08" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Mipwa Lakhe of Patan which create fire in mid aid during performance.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120152_442e10bff842214e8c7522ebf6e63663599768db73bb57d999deff9de1b59375.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20260101120152_442e10bff842214e8c7522ebf6e63663599768db73bb57d999deff9de1b59375" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur book review"> <figcaption>Gan pyakhan or Astamatrika dance which is performed in Patan Darbar Squre during Dasain. </figcaption> </figure>  The very last chapter is dedicated to water and nature, what sustains lives and civilisations, and how Lalitpur continues to be the city it is because of the water supply system our ancestors left behind which function still, despite encroachment and pollution. ‘In the history of the world cities have been built, they thrived for some time and then became archaeological sites because they were not able to maintain the quality of air, water, and its soil,’ the authors write. ‘This led these cities to depopulate and ultimately die and are only referred to in history books. Lalitpur is not going to make the same mistake.’ &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260104080132_3f403388d57da82b499d6c489a8f095002bf69f11e515e92fa96fb5ca3af69e9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20260104080132_3f403388d57da82b499d6c489a8f095002bf69f11e515e92fa96fb5ca3af69e9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Exploring Lalitpur"> </figure>

YALA

For daring to demand democracy, the Rana regime hanged activist Shukra Raj Shastri at midnight on 24 January 1941 by the side of the road at Teku. Across town in Siphal, Dharma Bhakta Mathema was also hanged. Four days later, Dasrath Chand and Gangalal Shrestha were executed by firing squad. These four young revolutionaries were members of the underground Nepal Praja Parishad that led the anti-Rana revolution with plans to assassinate key figures of the dynasty. The four martyrs sacrificed their lives for an unfulfilled cause. Monuments were put up in their honour (Shahid Gate) and their names glorified by the Shah monarchy that itself went on to ban political parties and persecute democracy activists. In 1950, the newly-formed Nepal National Congress launched an armed uprising against Rana rule after King Tribhuvan sought refuge at the Indian embassy to flee from the Rana regime. In 1951, the Ranas, Nepali Congress and King Tribhuvan signed a tripartite agreement that brought an end to 104 years of Rana rule.&nbsp; Thus began contemporary Nepal’s cycles of unfinished revolutions. Some 75 years later, on a sunny September morning, Nepal’s young and hopeful took to the streets demanding an end to the nation’s corrupt polity, envisioning a better democracy. They organised through digital platforms, played songs, danced, and chanted slogans. A few hours later, commandos fired on the protesters, massacring dozens. Over 8 and 9 September 2025, the government was overthrown, constitutional bodies were literally reduced to ashes, and 74 Nepalis were martyred.&nbsp; Nepal’s periodic revolutions have been ignited by anger against rulers, they have begun with great promise, spread with enthusiastic popular support despite rulers trying to crush them — but ultimately they have always fallen short of the expectations of citizens demanding reform. Through decades of dissent, Nepal’s periodic revolutions have remained incomplete, with the nation caught up in a cyclical search for stability.&nbsp; In 1960, king Mahendra staged a coup and overthrew an elected government led by prime minister B P Koirala -- a royal revolution against democracy. Mahendra is reported to have famously said to Koirala: “Nepal is not big enough for the two of us.” For the next 30 years Nepal resembled a one-party state under the absolute monarchy of the Panchayat. Elected leaders languished in jail or exile, political parties were banned, and the press controlled. This was the most frigid period of the Cold War, with Nepal’s neighbours India and China at war. Geopolitics was bound to have an impact. “After the 1816 Sugauli Treaty with British India, external forces magnified internal power struggles as outsiders played divide and rule,” explains editor and political analyst Rajendra Dahal. “Movements did not reach a logical conclusion because domestic politicians were forced to compromise.” Indeed, the departure of the British from India in 1947 meant that the days of the Anglophile Rana regime were numbered. Successive prime ministers sought patronage in Delhi, and the monarchy tried to counterbalance it with a policy of equidistance with China. The neighbours showed a keen strategic interest in Nepal’s domestic politics. “The Panchayat system did not deliver what it promised,” says Santosh Sharma Poudel of Nepal Institute of Policy and Research. “Nepalis suffered administrative and governance failure, politics was centralised in Kathmandu, leaving out the rest of Nepal.” With mainstream political parties and leaders were &nbsp;underground between 1961 till 1990, student activists became proxies for political parties. As pressure for change grew, a student-led pro-democracy movement spread across Nepal in 1979. In response, King Birendra announced a referendum to allow Nepalis to choose between the status quo and a ‘reformed’ Panchayat &nbsp;system.&nbsp; The Panchayat won by a slim margin with questions about the legitimacy of the plebiscite. The reforms never materialised and it would be another decade before street anger boiled over again. As the People’s Movement for democracy spread, king Birendra again relented, unbanning political parties and Nepal became a constitutional monarchy. Inspired by Mao Zedong, a faction of Nepal’s Communists felt that western-style parliamentary democracy was too slow to end a feudalist monarchy. They launched an armed struggle in 1996, and the war lasted ten years (editorial, page 2). “If the democratic government post-1990 had performed better, and brought real reform, the Maoists would not have a reason to launch a revolution,” says Poudel. After nearly a decade of bloodshed that left 17,000 dead and thousands still missing, the Maoists joined forces with the democratic parties that they had been fighting, to pressure king Gyanendra through street protests in 2006 to restore democracy. In 2008, an elected Constituent Assembly abolished the monarchy. &nbsp;Recalls Rajendra Dahal: “The second people’s movement did not aim to abolish the monarchy. In fact, the reinstated parliament even granted equal rights for royal daughters to be crowned queen. But eventually, the monarchy no longer fit the political framework that the parties envisioned.” It took two elections over the next eight years to draft a new Constitution that reflected Nepal’s socio-cultural and geographic diversity and met the demands of the Maoists. The new federal Constitution was finally promulgated in 2015, but failed to satisfy India and the aspirations of the Madhes communities for autonomy. The state’s effort to crush the Madhes movement cost 45 lives. The promise of the new Constitution was squandered over the next decade with rotating leadership of the NC, UML and the Maoists — all of whom had forgotten the sacrifices made in the name of revolution. Cronyism and corruption was the order of the day. And it was this never-ending cycle of political opportunism and malgovernance that brought Nepal’s youth to the streets on 8 September.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120128_bc50f6370ff80a6758199ea7ba9f4c214656a9322a8d2ba1c97e6cdfb88f7f62.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260101120128_bc50f6370ff80a6758199ea7ba9f4c214656a9322a8d2ba1c97e6cdfb88f7f62" data-rendition-name="original" width="3372" height="1371" loading="lazy" alt="timeline"> </figure>  1951 Revolution against the &nbsp;Rana regime 1960 King Mahendra's coup, jails B P Koirala and launches the partyless Panchayat system 1979 Student protests for democracy, King Birendra announces referendum&nbsp; 1980 Continuation of the partyless Panchayat system narrowly wins plebiscite&nbsp; 1990 People’s Movement I 1996 Maoists launch armed struggle&nbsp; 2000 Royal Massacre 2005 King Gyanendra's military-backed coup&nbsp; 2006 Comprehensive Peace Accord and Parliament restored 2008 Monarchy is abolished 2015 Madhes Movement, New Constitution promulgated 2017 First 3-tier election under federal system 2022 Second elections under federal Constitution&nbsp; 2025 GenZ protests BRK ALLIANCE “The socio-political change sought in all these movements never matched the people’s expectations, because the central issue of clean and efficient government never materialised,” says Poudel. The post-September political landscape has injected new personalities and alliances still relatively new to politics, as evidenced by the new electoral partnership of the BRK — Balen Shah, Rabi Lamichhane, and Kulman Ghising (page 1).&nbsp; These leaders are not without flaws, but they have become the effective flag-bearers of the GenZ movement, hoping to represent Nepalis disillusioned by decades of democratic decay. The March election will pit them against the legacy parties. There is already criticism that BRK is behaving just like male-dominated opportunists of old parties. The troika is resembling the triumvirate of Oli, Deuba and Dahal and its culture of patronage and quid-pro-quo power-sharing between alpha males. Will this also be another unfinished revolution? Says political scientist Sucheta Pyakuryal: &nbsp;“The kind of destruction that happened after the revolution should have been followed by a ground-breaking shift in Nepal’s political ecosystem, but that did not happen. Today the situation is a lot grimmer because we have players who have learned how to use the democratic facade to sound ‘equitable’ and ‘accountable’. But look closely and you see how the same political chauvinism, cronyism and nepotism still continue.”&nbsp;

Nepal’s incomplete revolutions

Nepal’s 2022 elections, its second under the federal system, was marked by the disruption in Nepal’s political status quo. Two figures stood out in particular: Balen Shah, whose outsider candidacy transformed urban political imagination, and the Rastriya Swatantra Party under Rabi Lamichhane, which leveraged his extensive media-built credibility to secure unexpected influence within months of its formation.&nbsp;
Their success was not an ideological victory, it was the victory of leaders who presented a vision of leadership that was different from Nepal’s political norm. It was the result of sophisticated public relations, effective message dissemination, and the careful cultivation of the credibility of these forces.&nbsp;
Last week, these once-separate trajectories formally converged as Shah and Lamichhane first joined forces, and within twenty-four hours their alliance expanded further with Kulman Ghising’s Ujjyalo Party. Ghising, who was appointed Minister in Nepal’s post-September interim Cabinet largely due to his public goodwill, has been another public figure whose reputation has been built as much through performance as through perception.&nbsp;
Together, Balen-Rabi-Kulman (BRK) now present themselves as an alternative front to the entrenched Oli–Prachanda–Deuba(OPD) power centre. But as this emerging bloc positions itself as a corrective option to “old politics”, the first substantive glimpse into its internal political behaviour raises important questions. The alliance’s Proportional Representation (PR) list provides an early indicator of priorities.&nbsp;
“The PR list of RSP showcases the utter disrespect for the constitution,” says Shailee Chaudhary, a PR candidate from Gatisheel Loktantrik Party. “It reveals that RSP at its core is an opportunistic clique instead of a political party. For them the PR list became a corporate takeover for their investors and brand ambassadors.”&nbsp;
Prospective candidates were reportedly required to pay Rs50,000 to have their names included, and the resulting roster reads less like a reflection of Nepal’s diverse social fabric and more like an inventory of recognised public figures.&nbsp;
The party’s explanation for the Rs50,000 fee requirement was that it has been raised to ensure that candidates are well off enough to not engage in corruption. But Mangpahang says this defense implies that corruption is exclusive to the poor.&nbsp;
“The PR system of RSP has been captured by elites,” says Yajaswi Mangpahang, President of Youth Congress Nepal. “The fact that one had to be affluent to be considered in the list is exclusionary.”
Mangpahang compares the PR selection process of the RSP to the Nepali Congress. The NC has exploited the PR list, she says, but the party has at the least understood the essence of the system, and why it exists.
“Nepal’s diversity, its socio-economic and political history, as well as where we are now must be understood by politicians,” she adds.&nbsp;
POLITICS OR POPULARITY CONTEST?
Actors, singers, pageant winners to business personalities and athletes in RSP’s PR list have positioned themselves as representatives of marginalised communities from dalit, adhiwasi janajati, and khas-arya communities. Notable names include: singer Prakash Saput (Dalit), actress Reema Bishwokarma (Dalit Woman), former Miss Nepal Anushka Shrestha (Adhivasi Woman), executive director of Goldstar shoes Vidhusi Rana (Khas-Arya Woman) and the once formidable contender for KMC mayoral race, Ranju Darshana (Khas Arya-Woman).&nbsp;
“The legal benchmarks of the representations are met but there is no clarity of principle in the list,” says Mangpahang.
Rather than reimagining representation, RSP’s PR list appears to extend the same reliance on visibility and public appeal that has driven the BRK’s rise so far. Reducing politics to communication tactics and profile-building not only trivialises governance, it fundamentally distorts the purpose of the proportional representation system, which was designed to broaden inclusion, not as a stage to curate and amplify personalities with pre-existing social capital.&nbsp;
“The inclusion of already established figures in the PR list meant for marginalised communities is evidence of intellectual and moral poverty,” says Chaudhary. “It signals that their approach is 100% about marketing and 0% about representation. They are not building a party, they are merging fan clubs, they confuse social media trends with grassroots movements and celebrity recognition with democratic legitimacy.”
Indeed, this strategy is akin to the dynamics of social media, where visibility translates directly into political currency. Shah’s politics has been inseparable from his online persona, carefully crafted through bold declarations, poetic nationalism, and viral digital performance. Lamichhane’s rise, meanwhile, is rooted in years of television-driven credibility, now amplified through algorithmic circulation that rewards outrage, emotional immediacy, and charismatic confrontation over deliberative politics.&nbsp;
The BRK project exemplifies how Nepali politics is increasingly being shaped by algorithmic culture. Platforms such as Facebook, TikTok, and YouTube don’t simply reflect political sentiment; they actively shape it by privileging sensationalism, conflict, and personality-driven storytelling. Their political momentum is therefore less a reflection of ideological consolidation and more a product of digital mobilisation, where “followers” begin to substitute party structures, and engagement metrics are mistaken for mass legitimacy.&nbsp;
In such an ecosystem, leaders who can command attention are rewarded more than those who can articulate policy. Indeed, political power in Nepal is increasingly determined by who commands the loudest applause, especially online. This risks reducing democracy to an algorithmic popularity contest: noisy and charismatic, but ultimately no different from the legacy political figures, just with a new facade.&nbsp;
“In the long run this subverts the constitution rendering its core components meaningless. It kills the spirit of inclusive democracy, it also erases marginalised voices, pushing the voices of women, Dalit, adivasi janajati and other marginalised groups and reduces politics to a spectator sport,” adds Chaudhary. “It teaches voters that politics is about cheering for individual heroes, not about advocating for communities or ideologies.”
Political legitimacy online may appear like that people and the leader are interacting, directly in touch with one another, but to pursue popularity over policy-driven politics is to avoid facing the public. What the RSP has done now is to make a safety valve for elites so that they do not actively interact with the people.&nbsp;
“To run an election is to have guts, you must have an understanding of your constituency, you must have a vision, and it is a gamble,” says Mangpahang.&nbsp;
When political legitimacy becomes increasingly tethered to personal popularity and digital visibility, it risks sidelining individuals who possess competence, policy expertise, and grassroots understanding, because they lack comparable social capital.&nbsp;
If the system rewards recognition over representation, leadership opportunities go to those embedded in media and celebrity ecosystems. This could consolidate power and perpetuate the marginalisation of communities who are structurally disenfranchised from politics.
Ayusha Chalise is a communication and development scholar specialising in how politics is experienced in the digital space.