Having recently overtaken its former colonial master to become the world's fifth-largest economy, India's star certainly appears to be rising. But if the country remains committed to the current government's development strategy, the economy could lose its momentum well before achieving escape velocity. There is a buzz in India today – a sense of limitless possibilities. If it maintains its current growth rate of 6-7% per year, it will soon overtake stagnant Japan and Germany to take over third place. But by 2050, India’s workforce will start shrinking, owing to demographic aging. Growth will slow. That means India has only a narrow window in which to grow rich before it grows old: with a per capita income of just $2,500, the economy must grow by 9% per year for the next quarter-century. That is an extremely difficult task, and the current election may well determine whether it remains possible at all. In pursuit of rapid growth, the Indian government intends to follow a tested road map: the same path that Japan took in the immediate postwar decades, and that China took after the death of Mao Zedong. During the first stage of the journey, labour flows out of the traditional agriculture sector as employment increases in low-skilled manufacturing – typically stitching garments or assembling components into electronic goods. This output is then exported to the developed world to capture the benefits of producing at scale. Cheap labour helps compensate for a country’s other deficiencies, such as excessive bureaucracy, unreliable power (especially electricity), or poor roads. As firms profit from exports, they invest in equipment to make workers more productive. As those workers are paid more, they can afford better schooling and health care for themselves and their children. Tax revenues also grow, providing the resources to upgrade the country’s infrastructure. The result is a virtuous cycle, because higher-skilled workers and better infrastructure enable firms to make more sophisticated, higher-value-added products. That is how China has moved from assembling components to producing world-leading electric vehicles in just four decades. Unfortunately, the same strategy is unlikely to work for India today. It is no accident that India failed to join China in shifting its economy to export-oriented manufacturing, even though the two countries were similarly poor in the late 1970s, when China started on that road. Even low-skilled factory employment requires a minimum level of education and skills. At the time, many Chinese workers met this standard, whereas most Indian workers did not. So, foreign employers found China and its cheap but capable workers more attractive. Moreover, China’s factory workers acquired skills on the job, and their education allowed them to pick up the basic accounting needed to launch their own small enterprises making products like screws and door handles. This explosion of smaller firms contributed immensely to Chinese growth. China had other advantages, too. Despite the outward perception of centralized rule by the Communist Party of China, provincial and municipal bosses have wielded a great deal of power. Mayors, hoping to be promoted for generating growth, helped local firms navigate the country’s otherwise-stifling regulations, overriding a rule here and overlooking one there in the name of getting results. By contrast, Indian bureaucracy in the same period was neither decentralized nor incentivized to promote growth, so it instead became an additional burden on Indian business. Finally, autocratic China could always favour manufacturing in ways that democratic India could not. For example, the Chinese government appropriated land for commercial purposes where necessary; pressured unions to limit wage demands even as labor productivity grew; paid depositors in state-owned banks minimal returns so that the funds could be lent out cheaply to firms; and kept the exchange rate undervalued to maintain local firms’ international competitiveness. In India, attempts to do any of the above would have met fierce democratic resistance. Nonetheless, the current Indian government wants to get on board the manufacturing bus. With many others looking to diversify away from producing in China, Indian economic policymakers see an opportunity to make up for lost time. Moreover, Indian infrastructure has improved markedly. The country now boasts many world-class airports and ports, increased renewables capacity to bridge power deficits, and an excellent highway system. But other impediments remain. Over the decade that the Modi administration has been in office, India’s garment exports have grown by less than 5%, while Bangladeshi and Vietnamese garment exports have grown by over 70%, such that their exports are now multiples of India’s. Recognising these continuing impediments, the Indian government has begun offering subsidies to incentivizse production in India, as well as raising tariffs on imports (like cell phones) to enhance these manufacturers’ profits from selling into the now-protected large Indian market. While it is still early days, one should be skeptical of this strategy. Production-linked subsidies might induce manufacturers to assemble in India, but those firms still will need to import most components. Moreover, margins will be small, because Indian workers now compete with modestly paid Bangladeshi and Vietnamese workers, not with well-paid workers in industrialised countries, as in the past. With little profit for firms to reinvest, and with less tax revenue, net of the subsidy, the virtuous circles needed to move India up the value chain will be much harder to achieve. Worse, even if the Indian government were to scale up manufacturing, the world is not ready for another China-size exporting powerhouse. Given the widespread shift toward manufacturing protectionism and growing concerns about environmental sustainability, the government’s emphasis on Chinese-style manufacturing-led development seems incompatible with where the world is headed. There is another way. To drive growth, India could focus on the export of services provided by its well-educated and skilled population. Though this cohort represents a small fraction of the total population, it still numbers in the tens of millions. Such a strategy would build on India’s strengths. The country is already well known for its role in the global software industry, and now it exports many other services, too, accounting for over 5% of the world’s services exports while its goods exports account for less than 2%.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240522100548_e66e90e780530fb61ba64b94b710c325f0c272e10736fca0d0b3724219edba68.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20240522100548_e66e90e780530fb61ba64b94b710c325f0c272e10736fca0d0b3724219edba68" data-rendition-name="original" width="2480" height="1529" loading="lazy" alt="Indian elections Modi rally in Bihar"><figcaption>Photo: BIKAS RAUNIAR(Photo: Bikas_Rauniar)(c)BR</figcaption></figure>  Multinational firms from Goldman Sachs to Rolls-Royce are hiring talented Indian graduates into India-based global capability centres (GCCs), where engineers, architects, consultants, and lawyers create designs, contracts, and content (and software) that are embedded in manufactured goods and services sold globally. These centres already account for over 50% of all GCCs globally, employing 1.66 million Indians and generating $46 billion in annual revenues as of March 2023. Following the pandemic-induced changes in work habits, and given improvements in communications technology, Indians also have started providing a much wider range of remote services, including consulting, telemedicine, and even yoga instruction. Once a service goes virtual, it matters little whether the provider is ten miles or 10,000 miles away. An Indian consultant in Hyderabad can now make a presentation to a client in Seattle on behalf of a team whose members span almost every continent. She not only is well trained and fluent in English, she also costs one-fourth of her US counterpart. True, Indian manufacturing has also benefited from these changes, but this has happened in precisely those areas where engineering, innovation, and design matter more than just the manufacturing process itself. Hence, Agnikul, a Chennai-based firm working to launch small satellites into space, has dispensed entirely with manufacturing supply chains by 3D printing its customised rockets in its own facility. Tilfi, which sells authentic hand-woven Banarasi silk sarees globally through its website, employs trained designers to create fresh fashions for traditional craftsmen, who in turn are encouraged to embrace innovation. It would seem to be a no-brainer that India should build on its strength: millions of high-skilled, creative, educated workers, many of whom speak English. Unfortunately, it’s running out of such workers. While India graduates 1.5 million engineers per year, only a minority attend institutions that impart the high-quality education that is in demand at a GCC or a company like Agnikul. Wheebox, a work-skill assessment company, estimates that half of all graduates are unemployable. Some of these graduates need only a little remedial education to be brought up to speed. But for many Indians, the educational deficiencies run much deeper. While nearly all Indian children start school, fewer than one-quarter can read at a second-grade level by the time they reach third grade. The further behind the stragglers fall, the less sense it makes to stay in school. Many ultimately drop out, incapable of anything but unskilled work. No wonder the share of workers in agriculture is growing in India today, contrary to the usual path for fast-growing countries. India faces a crisis of joblessness today. So, apart from expanding the creative high-skilled sector, India must create jobs that are broadly targeted at the skills people have. It also needs to improve education and skills, both in the short term and over the long term, so that Indian workers can do the jobs of the future. Sensible reforms would recognize that the solutions to both challenges are related. For example, a study shows that if a government-run daycare employs a part-time worker – perhaps a high-school-educated mother – children’s learning improves significantly. With more than one million such daycares in India today, that is potentially one million more workers set on the road to longer-term employability. Similarly, public funding for vocational and apprenticeship programs that allow students to cross the threshold of employability could convert millions into productive workers. There is no shortage of demand for health-care providers, plumbers, carpenters, and electricians. One can find these kinds of proposals in opposition party manifestos. When coupled with reforms to support businesses – especially small- and medium-size firms in labor-intensive sectors like garments, hospitality, and tourism – India could put many more people to work. But this will require carefully designed programs, funded in part by reallocating the tens of billions of dollars now being promised as subsidies to large manufacturers. In the longer run, there is no alternative to increasing the number and quality of childcare, education, and health-care institutions to capitalize on India’s greatest asset: its people. The currently low level of public spending in these areas should be seen as an opportunity, because it means that there is plenty of room to grow. India also can draw on its vast diaspora to seed some of the new higher education and research institutions it must create to expand the numbers of the highly skilled. When people have the right skills, and engage with idea-producing institutions, entrepreneurship will create jobs in the most unlikely of places. It wasn’t the government, after all, that created India’s software industry. Could growing protectionism impede this path? Not necessarily, because high-end services exports are hard to stop at the border if delivered virtually. Moreover, industrialized countries also sell such services globally (think of US management consultants and venture capitalists), which may mean that protectionism in these sectors will be less attractive. And, given their aging populations, industrialized countries have much to gain from India-provided services like telemedicine, since these will reduce the need to attract and assimilate foreign doctors and nurses. Finally, it is in the rest of the world’s interest if India eschews the Chinese path. If India grows richer faster, it will be able to buy much more from others, and if it grows primarily by producing high-value-added services, this will mitigate the impact on the climate. There is indeed a way for India to grow rich before it grows old. But it will not be easy, and it will require a change in vision at the top. That, ultimately, is what the ongoing election is about. © Project Syndicate Raghuram G Rajan, a former governor of the Reserve Bank of India and chief economist of the International Monetary Fund, is Professor of Finance at the University of Chicago Booth School of Business and the co-author (with Rohit Lamba) of Breaking the Mold: India’s Untraveled Path to Prosperity (Princeton University Press, May 2024).

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India’s election and its economic future

It is still election time in India. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/new-year-same-difference">polls in the world’s largest democracy</a> started on 9 April and will end on 1 June, and is in full swing across the Nepal border.&nbsp; Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s BJP is <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/southerly-winds">campaigning on a fail-safe Hindutva-agenda</a> in India’s northern heartland. Despite the BJP being weaker in the south, Modi is looking to continue his premiership for the third consecutive year but perhaps with a smaller margin.&nbsp; On Tuesday, Modi was scheduled to address an election rally in Motihari in East Champaran district of Bihar just across the Nepal-India border. Even as the fifth phase of voting came to an end on 20 May this week, a noisy election rally supporting Modi was going on full blast.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240522100548_ef8e1967ca5cc560e9492daf4daa3e1aaf59c52dcac962fb8efabd22904324dc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20240522100548_ef8e1967ca5cc560e9492daf4daa3e1aaf59c52dcac962fb8efabd22904324dc" data-rendition-name="original" width="2480" height="1588" loading="lazy" alt="Indian elections Modi rally in Bihar"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240522100548_1c0e269781bb05cdfb8f1e9ab28cf5f7647615ff6041a176686b2401eb142534.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20240522100548_1c0e269781bb05cdfb8f1e9ab28cf5f7647615ff6041a176686b2401eb142534" data-rendition-name="original" width="2480" height="1491" loading="lazy" alt="Indian elections Modi rally in Bihar"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240522100548_3a42817101f50b7d7cd5e65820a578169c05dc0ac71df9356564eed8ae1fcc93.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20240522100548_3a42817101f50b7d7cd5e65820a578169c05dc0ac71df9356564eed8ae1fcc93" data-rendition-name="original" width="2480" height="1708" loading="lazy" alt="Indian elections Modi rally in Bihar"> </figure>  &nbsp;I reached an hour ahead of Modi’s arrival via helicopter in Motihari, but was not allowed at the premises inside Gandhi Maidan without a special press pass issued by the PMO in New Delhi. Nepali press credentials were not sufficient.&nbsp; Chants from die-hard BJP supporters of “Jai Shree Ram” rang in the air, and it all sounded like a personality cult. Larger than life portraits of Modi are everywhere. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240522100548_e66e90e780530fb61ba64b94b710c325f0c272e10736fca0d0b3724219edba68.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20240522100548_e66e90e780530fb61ba64b94b710c325f0c272e10736fca0d0b3724219edba68" data-rendition-name="original" width="2480" height="1529" loading="lazy" alt="Indian elections Modi rally in Bihar"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240522100548_ea4e77a83fa86b5e75bf0d0e6bc529e24246971815284d376156df129a067ffc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20240522100548_ea4e77a83fa86b5e75bf0d0e6bc529e24246971815284d376156df129a067ffc" data-rendition-name="original" width="2480" height="1526" loading="lazy" alt="Indian elections Modi rally in Bihar"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240522100552_d8a05a8556eccef97206adfa6ba21b9b17cd4634101c4292779d803cacf0e316.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20240522100552_d8a05a8556eccef97206adfa6ba21b9b17cd4634101c4292779d803cacf0e316" data-rendition-name="original" width="2480" height="1635" loading="lazy" alt="Indian elections Modi rally in Bihar"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240522100552_f12cfde789e7b7dedd2a8717b64f132a19fc817da108c308d29ffdda14a39623.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20240522100552_f12cfde789e7b7dedd2a8717b64f132a19fc817da108c308d29ffdda14a39623" data-rendition-name="original" width="2480" height="1463" loading="lazy" alt="Indian elections Modi rally in Bihar"> </figure>  &nbsp;The attendees were also shouting “Abaki Baar 500 Par” (BJP will get over 500 seats in Parliament). Some were even shouting “600 Par” (over 600 seats) which is funny because there are only 543 seats in India’s Lok Sabha. So far, Modi’s BJP has surpassed the 300 seat mark as per the Indian media.&nbsp; Female participants of the rally had nowhere but to go behind tin sheds and bushes to relieve themselves. This is ironic given that when Modi came in power in 2014, his election campaigns prioritised building ‘Suchalaya’ (public toilets) before ‘Dewalaya’ (temples).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240522100548_c1501c5d9eb63cb708f0a52059fcc701c5246b2b50a75fc2057de2ab77715ca1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20240522100548_c1501c5d9eb63cb708f0a52059fcc701c5246b2b50a75fc2057de2ab77715ca1" data-rendition-name="original" width="2480" height="1890" loading="lazy" alt="Indian elections Modi rally in Bihar"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240522100548_c6b4253d3be988b07358196754ddc871dceed1f3289d242834dbfce22fd615f0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20240522100548_c6b4253d3be988b07358196754ddc871dceed1f3289d242834dbfce22fd615f0" data-rendition-name="original" width="2480" height="1683" loading="lazy" alt="Indian elections Modi rally in Bihar"> </figure>  &nbsp;A decade later, Modi’s journey has come to a full circle: he is building temples to garner votes from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/india-s-faith-in-politics">Hindu-majority states</a>.

Modi fever in Motihari

Nepal and India are both Hindu-majority countries, but there is a difference between the Hindutva nationalism playing out in India’s ongoing elections and the Hindu faith as practiced in Nepal.
Most Nepalis are too busy trying to get by in hard economic times to be too engrossed with elections across the border. Some do harbour strong views about Narendra Modi’s brand of Hindu revivalism, and the RPP in particular seems to want to imitate the BJP’s ability to set a national Hindutva narrative.
Still, a majority of Nepalis look at Narendra Modi with something between indifference and fondness. The Indian Prime Minister has visited Nepal five times since he was first elected in 2014, and many here still remember his address to Parliament which he began in Nepali during his first state visit to Kathmandu.
There is a section in Nepal that supports a non-secular Hindu state, and Nepalis have noticed that every time Modi comes to Nepal he makes it a point to visit Hindu and Buddhist sacred sites. But in contrast to his BJP’s Hindu exclusionist policies in India, Nepal has traditionally enjoyed a syncretic blend of Hindu and Buddhist traditions.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/borderlines/the-south-wind-blows">The south wind blows</a>, Chandra Kishore
For most Nepalis, therefore, the affinity for BJP and Modi could be characterised as cultural rather than political. Most Nepalis still have memories of the hardships they suffered during the 6-month blockade that New Delhi imposed just after the 2015 earthquake because it did not like the contours of Nepal’s new draft Constitution.
The poor showing of the Hindu-monarchist Rastriya Prajatantra Party (RPP) in last month’s by-elections in Ilam and Bajhang shows that at least in the mountains, Nepalis are not so impressed with the polarised electoral politics on display in India. Interestingly, Bajhang is close to the Indian state of Uttarakhand which has declared itself to be a Hindu-only ‘Devbhumi’ and with which it has close cross-border cultural ties.
Although factions of the other four main parties in Parliament, the NC, UML, Maoist-Centre and the RSP, do flirt with the Hindu-monarchy line from time to time, there is not much public support for it yet and none of the four largest parties in Parliament has officially voiced its support for such an agenda.
When (and if) Modi does win a third term in India’s elections there could inevitably be ripple effects in Nepal — especially if the BJP’s mentors in the Rastriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) adopt an even more radical agenda, abolish secularism from the Indian Constitution, or push the Greater India idea of ‘Akhanda Bharat’.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/india-s-faith-in-politics">India’s faith in politics</a>, Shrijan Pandey
Even so, rousing radical religious passions will not be as easy in Nepal, which is South Asia’s oldest nation-state and does not carry with it the historical baggage of Partition. Nepal’s Muslim minority which forms 5% of the population has for the most part lived in harmony with Hindus and Buddhists, although there are politically-instigated local flare-ups from time to time mainly along the southern border.&nbsp;
Though Nepal’s Hindu population is more than 80% (2021 census), Nepal as a whole is a country of minorities. The Hill-Brahmin and Chhetri may dominate the political and economic spheres, but they form less than 30% of the population. Nepal’s ethnic and indigenous groups have been asserting themselves, as seen in the recent Ilam by-election, where the UML’s Suhang Nembang comfortably beat the NC’s Dambar Bahadur Khadka by close to 6,000 votes. However, an independent candidate, Dakendra Singh Limbu, with no political affiliation, but who campaigned on a platform of assertive Limbu identity, made a strong showing, finishing third with 11,457 votes.
Such identity politics is more a response to ethnic exclusion and a demand for regional autonomy than pushing a religious agenda. Indeed, Nepal’s political parties have so far desisted from mixing religion with politics, even though some individual leaders in the parties sometimes seem to appear to be sorely tempted.
Nepal’s next general election is more than three years away, and India-style Hindutva politics could still be whipped up. For now, it seems more likely that it will be Nepali nationalism that will be a more potent vote-mobiliser.
This already seems to be happening, with the government minting Nepal’s new 100-rupee note that depicts the country’s ‘pointy map’ (‘chuchhe naxa’) showing a 350-sq km strip of territory in its northwestern tip which is also claimed by India.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/borderlines/crimson-saffron-and-green">Crimson, saffron and green</a>, Chandra Kishore
Akhilesh Upadhyay is former Editor-in-Chief of The Kathmandu Post and a Senior Fellow at the think tank, IIDS.

Southerly winds

While Nepal’s calendar enters the eighties on Saturday 13 April, this is a good time to pause and think about what might lie ahead for Nepal and the world in Gregorian year 2081.
The world is too late to limit the global average temperature to 1.5°C. By 2081, ocean expansion and heat stress will lead to mass migration to higher latitudes and altitudes. Multi-disasters, conflicts and food shortages will stalk the planet.
At the present rate of birth rate declines, China’s population will have shrunk to 850 million. By 2081, there will only be half as many Koreans as there are today. Nepal’s population pyramid will have inverted by then, and total inhabitants will decline to 22 million.
The outmigration of Nepalis from the mountains to the plains will likely start reversing in the next few decades. The Gulf states will be too hot to work in. Half the remaining Himalayan glaciers will have melted off, reducing the dry season flow of our rivers.&nbsp;
These are changes we know are coming, so we might as well prepare for them. Alas, the world is still in business as usual mode. Most politicians do not recognise the urgency of the crisis, and are haggling over who gets to sit in the best chair on the tilting deck of the Titanic.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/year-of-reckoning">Year of reckoning</a>, Editorial
India, China, US
Meanwhile, 2081 BS will see elections in the two biggest democracies, India and the United States, that will have a bearing on the region and the world. Proximity means Nepal will be impacted more immediately by the outcome in India, where a third term as Prime Minister for Narendra Modi seems to be a foregone conclusion in marathon elections from 19 April to 1 June.
Nepal is already feeling the spillover of India’s election fever as shown by Hindu-Muslim riots in Sunsari last week, and the anti-secular pro-monarchist rally in Kathmandu on Tuesday.&nbsp;
Under the Hindu-supremacist BJP since 2014, India has slid into dangerous authoritarianism, intolerance and systematic persecution of minorities. There is now not even a modicum of decency as opposition leaders are thrown into jail on trumped up charges, and their vilification amplified by a pliant mass media.
The West looks away as the BJP tightens control and squelches the media and democratic values, since India’s 8% growth is important for trade. New Delhi is even excused for breaking sanctions against Russia. India’s economic engine will pull Nepal along, but its politics could tear the intricate ethnic fabric of our society.&nbsp;
Over on the other side of the planet, Joe Biden and Donald Trump are readying for a second face-off. Much like in Nepal, US politics also seems to be populated by tired old men reluctant to let go.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/the-f-word-9yauh6kl">The F word</a>, Editorial
Much like how photographs from Vietnam swayed domestic public opinion against the war, the daily bombardment of images of children maimed and killed in Gaza has turned US public opinion against Biden. His administration parachutes food into Gaza, while shipping more bombs to Israel.
The war may prolong Benjamin Netanyahu’s hold on power in Israel, but it may cost Biden a second presidential term. Trump will be no better on Palestinian independence, and his threat to pull out of NATO is already ringing alarm bells in Europe.&nbsp;
Trump is campaigning on an anti-immigrant platform, and exaggerating the threat on the Mexican border. He wants immigrants only from ‘nice’ countries, and not from ‘shitholes’ like Nepal.
America’s domestic polarisation, Trump’s rejection of multilateralism, Biden’s unpopularity on the world stage because of Gaza, and panic in Europe over losing the American security umbrella to confront Putin’s Russia has geopolitically weakened the West. This means that for Nepal, the looming presence of next door India and China will be felt even more than before.
It was the West that traditionally pushed for human rights, transitional justice, democracy and the free press in Nepal. Now, we have to contend with two giant neighbours who do not believe in those concepts, and have in fact undermined them within their own societies.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/at-home-and-abroad">At home and abroad</a>, Editorial
Here and now
Back in Nepal, the government has selected more than 400 Nepalis to work in Israel as caregivers. Nepalis continue to enlist in the Russian Army even as the Labour Ministry prepares to lift the ban on work permits in Russia.
The new UML-Maoist-led coalition has reaffirmed the transient nature of Nepali politics. Political allies become rivals overnight, and the RSP on whom many Nepalis had pinned their hopes is behaving like the mainstream parties it once vowed to hold to account.&nbsp;
Public disillusionment with Nepal’s party politics has emboldened populist and nationalist forces that are set on dismantling the 2015 secular, federal republic constitution.
Such political disarray will not help us in Nepal face the challenges wrought by the climate crisis in the decades ahead.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/nepal-s-corruption-carousel">Nepal’s corruption carousel</a>, Editorial

New year, same difference

Home Minister Sudan Gurung resigned on Wednesday following increasing coverage of and criticism over his investment in companies linked to controversial Nepali business figures Sulav Agrawal and Deepak Bhatta, who are currently under investigation for money laundering.
‘I am resigning from the position of Home Minister effective today to ensure impartial investigation into matters associated with me, and to make sure that there is no conflict of interest,’ Gurung wrote, saying that morality and public trust mattered more to him than office.
Gurung ended his message to the nation in English as he invoked the security forces, writing: &nbsp;‘For my country and For the respect of our security forces and For the youths of Nepal.’
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Gurung has become the second member to depart the Cabinet, serving for less than a month, despite the Nepali electorate’s hopes that Nepal would finally get a stable government after the RSP’s sweeping victory in the March elections.&nbsp;
Prime Minister Balendra Shah had sought clarification from Gurung on Wednesday after new details emerged about his shares in two micro-insurance companies, Star Micro Insurance and Liberty Micro Life, which are said to have been issued their licence by the Nepal Insurance Authority at the behest of Bhatta and Agrawal.
Gurung denied financial misconduct, saying that his investment in the two companies was included in his asset disclosure and insisting the misunderstanding is because of how the shares have been categorised.&nbsp;
Leaders within the RSP had called for an internal investigation into Gurung as they sought to maintain the party’s platform of clean governance and transparency. As such, Gurung’s position had become increasingly untenable, especially since former Labour Minister was sacked without being given an opportunity for clarification over a disciplinary breach involving his wife’s appointment to the Health Insurance Board.&nbsp;
On social media, Sah on Tuesday seemed to express dissatisfaction over the PM’s request for Gurung’s clarification.&nbsp;
Judging by the comments under Gurung’s resignation post, a significant part of the Nepali public seems to be firmly on Gurung’s side, blaming the mass media and what they call mouthpieces of old parties for driving him out of the Cabinet.&nbsp;
This is a reflection of his meteoric rise and the continued support he has maintained since he stepped into the spotlight as the leader of Nepal’s youth movement in the aftermath of the September protest.&nbsp;
Gurung has made headlines constantly ever since he burst onto the national stage, which includes questions over the degree of his and his organisation Hami Nepal’s involvement in the September 9 unrest, calls to divulge details behind Hami Nepal’s finances, and not paying five years of rent for an illegal lakefront property in Pokhara.&nbsp;
There have also been unsubstantiated claims, despite Gurung’s denial, about his ‘ties’ to the Free Tibet movement, which has made the Chinese— as well as Nepalis— wary.&nbsp;
As Home Minister, Gurung cultivated an image of a tough but approachabe leader, overseeing a series of high-profile arrests of previous political leadership and business figures even as he posted photos of sleeping in a sofa in his office, and engaged with the public on the streets and on social media.&nbsp;
As it stands, the Home Ministry was a bone of contention between Shah and RSP Chair Rabi Lamichhane before it was awarded to Gurung, who is a close ally of PM Shah. Analysts had noted that with Gurung in charge, the Home Ministry would be a hook for Shah if Lamichhane, with his share of controversies, stepped out of line.&nbsp;
Following Gurung’s resignation, the Prime Minister’s secretariat has said that the PM would take charge of the portfolio for the time being. But it will be interesting to see if and how fresh negotiations for the Ministry unfold within RSP.&nbsp;
And with his supporter base largely intact, it remains to be seen how much of an impact this setback will have on Sudan Gurung’s political aspirations.&nbsp;

Home Minister Sudan Gurung resigns

Sudan Gurung is dancing. It is 2009. He has an emo fringe falling over one eye and is spinning on a polished floor. His dance shows dedication — moves that take years of bruised elbows to land. The clip is 16 years old, and had been sitting in the dead archives of YouTube and old Facebook pages, watched by almost nobody. This month <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@4gr4j/video/7621892206902725909">it has 1.9 million views</a>. Gurung became Home Minister on 27 March and resigned on Wednesday, barely a month into office. His<a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@aayvik/video/7626069452177542408"> pre-political life had been put back into circulation</a> at industrial speed -- the b-boying, the DJ sets, and the YouTube video of him dancing in a music clip.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026042202040_71df4d531423e7c941abde95fb8106346c70ab0afb71bbeb520cc570f14ba178.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026042202040_71df4d531423e7c941abde95fb8106346c70ab0afb71bbeb520cc570f14ba178" data-rendition-name="original" width="2300" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="When aura meets audit"> </figure>  The youth of Nepal, well-versed in snappy TikTok edits and aura compilations, turned the archive into a meme economy almost overnight. TikTok remixed the footage to trap beats. The comments settled on a nickname that crossed into everyday speech within days: 'Homie Minister'. <div class="embed-block"><blockquote class="tiktok-embed" cite="https://www.tiktok.com/@yalexthwreal/video/7622325255792512276" data-video-id="7622325255792512276" style="max-width: 605px;min-width: 325px;" > <section> <a target="_blank" title="@yalexthwreal" href="https://www.tiktok.com/@yalexthwreal?refer=embed">@yalexthwreal</a> <a title="sudangurung" target="_blank" href="https://www.tiktok.com/tag/sudangurung?refer=embed">#sudangurung</a> new home minister of Nepal😎 <a title="fyppppppppppppppppppppppp" target="_blank" href="https://www.tiktok.com/tag/fyppppppppppppppppppppppp?refer=embed">#fyppppppppppppppppppppppp</a> <a title="sudangrg" target="_blank" href="https://www.tiktok.com/tag/sudangrg?refer=embed">#sudangrg</a> <a title="home" target="_blank" href="https://www.tiktok.com/tag/home?refer=embed">#home</a> <a title="minister" target="_blank" href="https://www.tiktok.com/tag/minister?refer=embed">#minister</a> <a target="_blank" title="♬ original sound - •⪨н є α я т ❤н α ¢ к є я ⪩• - Music Universe 🎧" href="https://www.tiktok.com/music/original-sound-•⪨н-є-α-я-т-❤н-α-¢-к-є-я-⪩•-7308733170064231170?refer=embed">♬ original sound - •⪨н є α я т ❤н α ¢ к є я ⪩• - Music Universe 🎧</a> </section> </blockquote> <script async src="https://www.tiktok.com/embed.js"></script></div> As Home Minister, Gurung was in charge of the Nepal Police, Armed Police Force, Department of Immigration, and the country's internal security apparatus. Calling him 'homie' collapsed the distance between that office and the Discord server where the movement that brought him into power had organised itself. What is harder to explain is why the nostalgic clips did the narrative work for Gurung's political standing right up until the moment the paperwork did not. A teenager on a dance floor in a Thamel club, filmed before smartphones had decent cameras, was functioning as political currency for a powerful home minister, while a share registry was quietly filling the other column. The footage was not an argument. Gurung was not doing anything in it that related to home affairs. He was just dancing. The comments compared him to <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@4gr4j/video/7621892206902725909">Korean film heroes</a>. A separate <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@tandavyt7/video/7622151050128018708">48,000-like edit</a> was captioned 'Our New Home Minister Aura'. The replies were full of people saying they got chills listening to him speak. Even after his resignation, most comments on his Facebook page were supportive, saying he had been punished for pursuing truth and justice.&nbsp; Political legitimacy in Nepal has been built out of many things over the last 70 years, but it has never been built out of this. The question was always: what happens when the job starts demanding things his style, boldness, and swag cannot provide. Political aura in Nepal used to be a slow harvest, now it isn't. B P Koirala spent eight years in prison under the Panchayat. He wrote fiction at Sundari Jal. The writing survived, the prison sentences survived, and that experience became the template for what a serious Nepali politician looked like: someone the state had tried to break and failed. Legitimacy was accumulated by having their lives taken away, and refusing to bend the knee. The old mechanics of legitimacy produced politicians who could be audited. The record was made of words, dates, votes, and years behind bars. A voter who wanted to know what a leader stood for read his writings. A journalist digging for inconsistency could find it. The system was slow, often corrupt, and frequently boring. But boring was part of the job description. A minister was supposed to be slightly dull — evidence that the person was doing the unglamorous work of reading files and sitting through committee meetings. Today, boring is a disqualification. The attention economy rewards velocity and visual charge, and a politician who cannot generate either does not exist in the feed, and that means does not exist at all. The legacy parties are still issuing press statements criticising the new guard in the grammar of paper trails and procedural failure. But the audience has stopped reading, users scroll for their next viral bite. Sudan Gurung, unlike the old parties, understood exactly which grammar the feed rewarded. On his first evening as Home Minister, he posted a photo of himself sleeping on a sofa inside the ministry. Caption: creation cannot be greater than the creator, government is not above the people. The image travelled further in 12 hours than any ministerial press release has ever done.&nbsp; A minister napping on a sofa, phone-shot, zero production, read by the public as evidence of a minister who had skipped the motorcade and got straight to work. Gurung used Facebook to announce the names of former ministers and businessmen he intended to arrest. The feed was used to pre-announce state security action.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260422010456_2fa1918e1dd031d01f38b4001ee306d9414073cec0b795fa43a75cb5a8deb8c7.png" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20260422010456_2fa1918e1dd031d01f38b4001ee306d9414073cec0b795fa43a75cb5a8deb8c7" data-rendition-name="original" width="926" height="868" loading="lazy" alt="When aura meets audit"> </figure>  INFLUENTIAL INFLUENCER This is not how the Ministry of Home Affairs has ever operated. It is how a YouTuber releases a series. Sudan Gurung was a political content creator. As home minister, he was an influential influencer kinetically doing something in the visual medium. Much like Prime Minister Balendra Shah's sunglasses, Gurung's aura, authenticity and swag were a brand asset, instantly recognisable at thumbnail size. Balen's rap career supplies a pre-political archive that authenticates him the same way Gurung's DJ sets and b-boying clips authenticated him. The aesthetic is doing the work a manifesto used to do. The work is authenticity, and the strategy is auramaxxing. The emo fringe predates the ministry. The DJ sets predate Hami Nepal. The b-boying predates the earthquake, the NGO, the September uprising, the interim cabinet, all of it. Whatever Gurung is now, he was already that person before the office existed. This was the real spectacle of the Homie Minister: authenticity. Nepal's youth have grown up watching heavily-polished, talking-point ministers speak in a language aimed at nobody in particular. But that grainy archival clip of the Home Minister from 2009 was honest.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260422010456_5d6dff3a09e8b7e77dc60c3aa567c9e02b6bd5f90f94e20737ec05cc9a09023b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20260422010456_5d6dff3a09e8b7e77dc60c3aa567c9e02b6bd5f90f94e20737ec05cc9a09023b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1800" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="When aura meets audit NT"> </figure>  The effect transcended GenZ. <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@ektapokharel/video/7623242573481561365">A TikTok trend</a> captioned NOT ONLY OUR HOME MINISTER, WE ARE ALSO FROM THAT ERA <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@sonykhadka/video/7624106790266948872">has millennials posting their own</a> archive photos from the same period, aligning themselves with Gurung's pre-political aesthetic. The aura did <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@_thakuri/video/7623397397556645141">cross-generational work</a>. It was a shared legibility, spanning at least 15 years of Nepali youth culture, with the Home Minister standing at its centre.&nbsp; The traditional politician's entire adult life is a performance of identity. Every photograph is lit for the media, every statement is vetted. The persona is the product, and the product has been in development for 30 years. This makes the old guard legible but suspect in the attention economy. A generation raised on authenticity-as-currency reads the decades of careful performance as evidence of something to hide. The polish is the problem. The nostalgic Sudan Gurung party clips inverted this. The polish was absent. The footage could not be performance aimed at the viewer, because the viewer did not exist in 2009 and neither did the political stakes. The clip was therefore read as real, in a way a press conference can never be. It was just a kid dancing, and he happened to grow up to be the Home Minister. But Sudan Gurung's job was never to go viral. The Ministry of Home Affairs requires the person running it to file a complete asset declaration and to avoid holding financial interests in crony entities.&nbsp; None of that work is content. A correctly filed asset declaration does not get remixed into a trap beat. A functioning immigration database is not a TikTok. The paperwork that constitutes actual governance is structurally boring in exactly the way the old parties are structurally boring, and for the same reason. It is the slow, procedural, checkable apparatus that the old system was built to produce and that the new system has not yet learned to replace. And it is painstaking follow-the-money paper trail investigative journalists in the legacy media who uncovered the evidence. You cannot auramaxx your way out of a share registry. You cannot post your way past a conflict-of-interest statute. No amount of fire outfits and wild DJ transitions does anything for you when a journalist pulls the initial shareholder list of Star Micro Insurance and finds your name at number 49, with Rs2.5 million in shares alongside investors linked to Deepak Bhatta and Sulav Agrawal — two men currently at the centre of a Rs 3.7 billion money laundering investigation. <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@blox.drop/video/7622173520981658900">Auramaxxing was engineered</a> for the mechanics of reaching office. It is the reason Sudan Gurung became Home Minister and Gagan Thapa did not. The question that had not yet been tested, until this week, was whether the same weapon works when the terrain changes. The terrain does change when you assume power. This week, the answer arrived. TWO CLOCKS Two clocks had been running, and they did not sync. The first clock was built for auramaxxing. A clip posted at eight in the morning peaked by noon. A sofa photo was remixed before the minister had left the building. The feedback loop is fast and legible, and a politician playing this clock gets real-time data on what to post next. The old guard never learned to read it, which is a large part of why they lost the election. The second clock was the one the ministry actually runs on. It measures in quarters, court calendars, and the slow grind of investigation files moving between offices. A share registry takes weeks to pull. A money-laundering case moves at the speed of the prosecutor's office, which is to say, it often does not appear to move at all, until one morning it does. The legacy mass media is fed leaks, and the second clock does not care whether the minister is currently trending. The two clocks collided this week, and the second clock got there first. Faster than anyone expected. The first clock put Gurung in the Home Ministry in weeks. The second clock put him out of it in less than a month. On Sunday evening, Diyopost and Janaastha published documents showing Gurung as a founding shareholder in Star Micro Insurance and Liberty Micro Life — companies licensed by the Nepal Insurance Authority in 2022 following what reporting identified as political lobbying by Bhatta and Agrawal. A photograph also surfaced of Hami Nepal, the NGO Gurung chairs, honouring Bhatta as a donor on 21 December 2021. Gurung's first response was auramaxxed. A Monday Facebook post distinguishing ‘rumours’ from ‘facts’, insisting the shares were disclosed within his broader Rs20 million securities portfolio, promising to cooperate with any investigation. "Allegations and truth are not the same thing," he wrote. "Decisions should be based on evidence, not sentiment." It was a coherent clip, but it did not stop the clock. By Wednesday, Prime Minister Balendra Shah had sought written clarification. Leaders within the RSP itself were calling for his resignation. The opposition Nepali Congress had framed the question as one of democratic transparency.&nbsp; Gurung resigned, posting his decision to Facebook as he did everything else. Ethics, he wrote, hold more weight than any position. There is no power greater than public trust. He ended in English, invoking ‘my country … the respect of our security forces … the youths of Nepal’. Even the exit was content. And this is the asymmetry the office exposed. A politician whose legitimacy is built on fast 30 second videos is structurally exposed to a process that runs slower than the news cycle, because the archive of aesthetic proof was not engineered to answer documentary evidence.&nbsp; It was engineered to displace the demand for documentary evidence in the first place. When that demand returns, as it always does once a politician takes office, the digital archive keeps performing, but the documents keep getting uncovered. And the two tracks do not communicate. The old guard knew this clock because they had no other clock to know. What they lost in charisma they gained in durability: a politician built over 20 years of parliamentary record is harder to dislodge with a single document because they have already survived thousands of documents. The new guard has not been stress-tested against its own paper trail. Sudan Gurung has now been tested, and the test is over, and the template has been written in his exit rather than his survival.&nbsp; A politician can enter office on the strength of a dance clip, and the same class of evidence — share registries, company filings, founding-shareholder lists at number 49 — that would have ended the career of a politician in a previous era of Nepali politics has ended his. The second clock got there. The feed did not save him. Or not entirely. Because the resignation itself is now in the feed. The Facebook post. The 46 brothers and sisters. The epic sign-off. Within hours of stepping down, Gurung had already re-enrolled his exit into the same register that put him in office. The clip of the Home Minister dancing in 2009 is still in circulation. The sofa photo still reads as sincerity. The investigation into the micro-insurance shares will move at the speed of Nepal's prosecutor's office, which is to say, at a speed the feed has long since outrun. The movement that installed Gurung in the name of ending elite capture has had its answer about whether its own hero is subject to the same audit it demanded of everyone else. He walked — or was walked — before the audit ran its course. The resignation was framed as moral choice rather than forced exit, and the framing is already winning. Whether that framing holds is the next test. Auramaxxing, it turns out, is a weapon that works in one direction only: it got him the job, and when the documents arrived, it did not save him. But it may yet save the person. These are not the same thing. If the technique is wounded, it is not yet dead. The next Nepali politician with a pre-political archive and a phone is watching how Gurung exits, not just how he entered. And the answer is: you exit the same way you entered: on Facebook. In your own voice. Before anyone else writes the caption. Whether he comes back is the thing to watch. Whether the technique does is already decided. &nbsp; &nbsp;

When Aura meets Audit

At 6 feet and one inch, Hira Bahadur Ghalan was exceptionally tall for a Nepali. In 1936, when people came to his Tamang village near Tistung looking for porters, they recruited him on the spot. This was no ordinary job, Hira Bahadur would lead gangs of 30 or more porters to carry cars bought by Rana rulers from Bhimphedi to Kathmandu.&nbsp; Those were the days when the only motorable roads in Nepal were in Kathmandu, but the capital was not connected to anywhere else by road. So, before cars could carry people, people had to carry cars. More Nepalis had carried cars than ridden in one. The porters were paid Rs5 for the job, and sometimes the Rana owners gave Hira Bahadur a Rs25 baksheesh. One of the cars his community helped carry was a 1939 Daimler Benz gifted by Adolf Hitler to King Tribhuvan to woo Nepal away from the British. The rusted dusty vehicle is now in the Narayanhiti Palace Museum.&nbsp; Hira Bahadur hauled cars for 25 years until his knees gave way, he died at age 90 eight years ago — the last surviving car porters of Nepal from Chitlang Valley.&nbsp; Hira Bahadur Ghalan had three sons and three daughters, one of them is Maila Kaji Lama, who at age 68, is a chauffeur in Kathmandu. His son, Manjil Lama is a pilot with Summit Air, flying to remote Himalayan airstrips. Three generations of one family worked in professions that followed a century of transportation history in Nepal. &nbsp; After the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-long-and-winding-road-to-india">Tribhuvan Rajpath was finished in 1957</a> and the ropeway upgraded, Hira Bahadur was out of a job. He tilled the family farm, watching trucks and buses headed to and from Kathmandu on the hairpins.&nbsp; As a child, Maila Kaji was fascinated by cars and wished one day to be able to drive one. After he failed Grade 8, he came to Kathmandu in 1975 and got a Rs20/month job at a petrol station in Maiti Devi. “I watched King Birendra’s coronation and was impressed by the glamour of Kathmandu, and decided to stay here,” Maila Kaji says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041816040_a1a41e47dec8500727702f700e43af625f059043cbcd283f13b247344b3a20aa.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2026041816040_a1a41e47dec8500727702f700e43af625f059043cbcd283f13b247344b3a20aa" data-rendition-name="original" width="1974" height="1608" loading="lazy" alt="car carriers"> <figcaption>Maila Kaji</figcaption> </figure>  Former minister Ramesh Nath Pandey used to bring his Volkswagen Beetle to the station, and Maila Kaji started taking care of his car. Later, he drove a Russian Jeep for former minister and geographer Harka Gurung. Along the way, he fell in love with the daughter of a Brahmin colleague, and married her. “My father back in Tistung did not approve of our inter-ethnic marriage, and not speak to me for five years,” Maila Kaji recalls. Manjil Lama grew up in Kathmandu, and did well in science in school. He had wanted to go the US to become a pilot like his friends, but was denied a visa.&nbsp; “The visa officer told him I did not earn enough,” says Maila Kaji, “so I sold some property and sent Manjil to flying school in the Philippines.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041816040_e9091162840baa6d182de2d7cc6f09e43ec9cfd9a9b6e71e7e7b14bc72da3537.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026041816040_e9091162840baa6d182de2d7cc6f09e43ec9cfd9a9b6e71e7e7b14bc72da3537" data-rendition-name="original" width="1434" height="1754" loading="lazy" alt="car carriers"> <figcaption>Manjil Lama</figcaption> </figure>  After returning to Nepal, Manjil Lama now flies Let 410s of Summit Air to difficult air strips like Lukla and Simkot, and has logged over 2,000 hours. He has to go to the Czech Republic regularly for simulator training. Says Maila Kaji Lama: “My father worked hard carrying cars to raise us, I started from scratch to become a driver to support my family, and my son is now a pilot with experience in flying in the world’s toughest terrain.” &nbsp; Watch <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lvT3iTi8yw4" target="_blank">video clip from S Dillon Ripley here</a>.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260419020448_40f8b1bdaace08106ca5c24819b6e7a34fb2109a9a3ec5c6ac179b3309e686ed.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260419020448_40f8b1bdaace08106ca5c24819b6e7a34fb2109a9a3ec5c6ac179b3309e686ed" data-rendition-name="original" width="900" height="1582" loading="lazy" alt="car carriers"> </figure>

Grandfather carried cars, son drives cars, grandson flies planes

Only 70 years ago, Kathmandu was the isolated capital of a country that had no modern surface transport link with the rest of the world.&nbsp; The idea of building a road to connect Nepal with India actually first came up during the last years of the Rana regime, after the British had left India. Construction actually began in 1952, and the serpentine route took five years to complete.&nbsp; Named Tribhuvan Rajpath, after the reigning king who initiated it, the alignment was from Thankot (1,301 m) at the western edge of the Kathmandu Valley to Nagdunga, Naubise, Tistung, Palung, Daman, Sim Bhanjyang (2,504m), Lamidanda, and Bhainse.&nbsp; At Bhainse, the highway joined the existing road to Bhimphedi and it was another 31km to Hetauda and Amlekhganj. There was a railway line between Amlekhganj and Birganj.&nbsp; After regular bus and truck service from Raxaul to Kathmandu began in 1961, the entire road popularly became known as the Tribhuvan Rajpath.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_a11b48a75c7877a0f68634f8be07d26a3f354e78ebd9adddc7d17252fddf1d1b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026041610044_a11b48a75c7877a0f68634f8be07d26a3f354e78ebd9adddc7d17252fddf1d1b" data-rendition-name="original" width="4608" height="3072" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>The village of Chitlang on the main route to Kathmandu before the Rajpath was built. In the distance is the Chandragiri ridge above Thankot. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  <h2>Chronology&nbsp;</h2> (Based on US State Department cables and media reports) November 1945: Gen Bahadur SJB Rana asked an American official if a road could be constructed from the Indian border to Kathmandu. Nepal wanted such a road built across the mountains after first constructing an East-West artery road in the Tarai, and the government was interested in purchasing US surplus war equipment. Gen Rana inquired if there were US firms who could conduct a survey. April 1947: The Nepal government told a US official it was important to upgrade the 20-mile trail from Bhimphedi over the mountains to the Kathmandu Valley into an all-weather road and sought an estimate from the US for doing so. May 1948: Bijaya SJB Rana informed a US official that a survey for a one-lane motor road between Kathmandu and the Tarai had been completed. The road was to follow the Bagmati River to Makwanpur, then connect at Bhimphedi with the road to Amlekhgunj. The road from Tripureswor to Bhainse along the Bagmati River and via Bhimphedi would have been about 60km. (The distance from Kathmandu on the Tribhuvan Rajpath is 122 km.)  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_bb531baf5d73e00d2032814ac8abb86979a87d781abc066fcb984997aad930e6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2026041610044_bb531baf5d73e00d2032814ac8abb86979a87d781abc066fcb984997aad930e6" data-rendition-name="original" width="4608" height="3072" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>The road climbing the hills toward its destination of Kathmandu. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  July 1948: The government decided to go ahead and build a motorable road from Amlekhganj to Thankot and complete it in two years. December 1948: Construction of the motor road from Kathmandu to Amlekhgunj via the Bagmati River corridor was started. April 1949: Gen Singha SJB Rana told a US official that the motor road from Kathmandu to the Tarai and the Indo-Nepal border would be completed by the spring of 1950. February 1950: Nepal sanctioned Rs300,000 to make the 6-foot-wide road from Kathmandu along the Bagmati River to Hetauda. Of this, Rs100,000 was allocated for road-building material and machinery. Subsequently, the road would be developed into a broader motorable road at a cost of Rs7.5 million. February 1952: Nepal’s budget speech noted that a plan was underway for a road between Bhainse and Kathmandu. PM Matrika Prasad Koirala laid a foundation stone near Teku for construction of the ‘Kathmandu Hetauda Roadway’.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_e66d3b81848ec19da48be8b41cacfa8b8e2bad093719b39eda27755c9616ea9a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2026041610044_e66d3b81848ec19da48be8b41cacfa8b8e2bad093719b39eda27755c9616ea9a" data-rendition-name="original" width="4608" height="3072" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>Rajpath winding its way north of Bhainse. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  February 1952: A party of Indian engineers came to Nepal to determine the best route for a road from Raxaul to Kathmandu. March 1952: Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru told Parliament: “So far as India’s security is concerned, we consider the Himalayan mountains as our border.” Ministry of External Affairs official (S.N. Hakar) told a US official that the Indian government was willing to proceed with constructing the Raxaul-Kathmandu road and had sent a survey party to determine the most suitable mountain route. May 1952: Swiss experts had made surveys for a proposed new road between Bhimphedi and Thankot. Nepal government requested financial help to build the road, and India was considering the project.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_35e390c1a4812f45af7892d681230e04c63727d9006b6614ed79aaa7c22c1ece.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2026041610044_35e390c1a4812f45af7892d681230e04c63727d9006b6614ed79aaa7c22c1ece" data-rendition-name="original" width="4608" height="3072" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>With a constant stream of trucks, buses and jeeps, the narrow Rajpath once was Nepal's busiest highway. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  Summer 1952: Work on a new road was at a standstill, so Nepal asked India for assistance. Indian engineers surveyed two routes: one following the Bagmati River, the other road through Daman that was later adopted. July 1952: Nepal’s Ministry of Planning decided to construct a road between Kathmandu and Raxaul, awaiting Cabinet approval soon. Prime Minister Matrika Koirala said the proposed road was longer than necessary, but it was a better route ‘for strategic reasons’, because it did not require many bridges. August 1952: King Tribhuvan said road construction from Kathmandu to Bhimphedi would “begin soon”. September 1952: An Indian Military Team began construction of the Kathmandu-Bhainse road without a formal agreement being signed with the Nepal government.&nbsp; February 1953: The Indian Ambassador said the road would be hard surfaced within a year. September 1953: Prime Minister Matrika Koirala inspected the completion of a ‘jeepable track’. December 1953: The road was named ‘Tribhuvan Rajpath’. April 1954: Reports circulated that Swiss engineers criticised the alignment, arguing it would have been easier, faster, and cheaper to build over the existing foot trail between Bhimphedi and Thankot through Kulekhani. July 1954: Heavy monsoon rain damaged much of the roadway that had been built.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_b5b2a1833f1366e532f1629f47c124d877df7b6f8a34b6c83f6c21ec3e4415dd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2026041610044_b5b2a1833f1366e532f1629f47c124d877df7b6f8a34b6c83f6c21ec3e4415dd" data-rendition-name="original" width="855" height="1123" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>Crown Prince Mahendra inspecting construction progress on the Tribhuvan Rajpath in October 1954. Photo: ROYAL PALACE</figcaption> </figure>  November 1954: The Indian ambassador said flood damage was so great that the road would be delayed by two years. May 1955: Twenty military trucks brought rice from Amlekhganj to Kathmandu on the Tribhuvan Rajpath. King Tribhuvan died in Zurich. December 1956: A gravel road was completed, with trucks and buses plying between Amlekhganj and Kathmandu. December 1956: Nepal government abolished regulations that required Nepali nationals to carry permits for travel within Nepal, except for women below the age of 45. 1957: Reduction in price of goods carried to Kathmandu by truck: Sugar, Rs0.13 per kg. Wheat flour Rs0.13 per kg. Kerosene Rs0.25 per litre. February 1957: An article in The Motherland newspaper in Kathmandu noted urgent action was needed to avoid Kathmandu being cut off from the Tarai during the monsoon. The correspondent wrote, ‘In a recent journey from Amlekhganj I found that almost all the bridges are in a very bad state…Now, because of the dry rivers the scores of vehicles that ply the road cross the rivers on the water level. But during monsoons… these rivers will be impossible to cross without bridges. On the road itself, landslides and big holes have made the journey a great undertaking.” April 1957: The first regular passenger bus left Amlekhganj at 12:30PM and arrived in Kathmandu completing a journey of 14 hours.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_60807e067f2d0b80bdc5e59860e9bc240b495ef606efc9301ef54ea5731d42df.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2026041610044_60807e067f2d0b80bdc5e59860e9bc240b495ef606efc9301ef54ea5731d42df" data-rendition-name="original" width="5211" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>Daman, one of the highest points on the Rajpath, often saw snow in winter. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_baac4747267c751ab7b0e5ef24697fb5001c4c55e04a82d92c89282bd01a325c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2026041610044_baac4747267c751ab7b0e5ef24697fb5001c4c55e04a82d92c89282bd01a325c" data-rendition-name="original" width="648" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>Travelers could view the Himalayas from a view tower at Daman. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  June 1957: Eight thousand Nepali workers and about 500 Indian Army personnel were at work on the road.&nbsp; 30 June 1957: India officially handed the road over to Nepal. India had spent INR32.5 million on the project.&nbsp; January 1958: The road from Amlekhganj to Bhainse was upgraded. July 1961: The gravel road from Raxaul to Birganj was blacktopped. Trucks began transporting goods from Raxaul directly to Kathmandu, avoiding the need for transshipment from train to truck in Amlekhganj, or use the ropeway from Bhimphedi. 1961: Passengers could travel from Raxaul to Kathmandu in a day, whereas it took a week by train to Amlekhganj, bus to Bhimphedi and then on foot. September 1962: Nepal’s 3-Year Plan aimed at broadening and black-topping the road between Bhainse and Raxaul, bypassing the Chure tunnel, and constructing several bridges along the route. 1963: Travelers going to Kathmandu by land: Road, 158,000, Nepal Government Railway, 66,500. Railway passenger service ended in June 1965.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_2a95eb144dad74271a0fa3a27fab6b45bbab0a1c4be59d21120ad14c08e258fd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="2026041610044_2a95eb144dad74271a0fa3a27fab6b45bbab0a1c4be59d21120ad14c08e258fd" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1344" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>A bus providing ‘deluxe service’ in 1963 is ready to leave Amlekhganj for Kathmandu. Note the railway tracks of the Nepal Government Railway. Photo: RON ELLIOTT</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_d02013692e84d6add7a6e0ce66c2b552cd53bb084db2aa8df0593bbcf84c2c04.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="2026041610044_d02013692e84d6add7a6e0ce66c2b552cd53bb084db2aa8df0593bbcf84c2c04" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1352" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>Vehicles found it difficult to pass on many parts of the Rajpath in 1963. Photo: RON ELLIOTT</figcaption> </figure>  1965: Tribhuvan Highway was considered a useful addition to Nepal’s economic infrastructure, but it could not act as a prime mover in the nation’s economic development. It did play a major role in the 1960s in transporting material and equipment needed to implement development projects in the Kathmandu Valley. September 1966: Nepal took over maintenance of the Tribhuvan Rajpath from the Indian Aid Mission.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_5488ba1e92f6395ff882392ccbaef2270622632682eccb412d8de7b128f6f397.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="2026041610044_5488ba1e92f6395ff882392ccbaef2270622632682eccb412d8de7b128f6f397" data-rendition-name="original" width="1764" height="1184" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>Trees still lined the Rajpath near Thankot in 1967. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  1971: A UN-Nepal study said the best alignment for an alternative road was from Kathmandu, Pharping, Kulekhani, Bhimphedi to Bhainse. 1975: Nepal's Department of Roads’ engineer concluded: ‘The Tribhuvan Rajpath has been built without design speed consideration… The pavement was not constructed to any designed standard… irrespective of quality of material, and later the road was black topped without consideration of traffic intensity and load-bearing capacity of sub-base… utilisation of low-quality material in the Bhainse-Thankot section… Quality control was neither maintained in Bhainse-Thankot nor the Bhainse-Raxaul section. Local materials were used irrespective of their quality to complete the work in the earliest possible time and in the cheapest possible manner. Brick work was done in negligible quantity. Cement used was ordinary portland cement…’ &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026041610044_26c74f45991efb3dc29d616e8acafb3163661ae6573c5314538e59c54d5ca0a5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="2026041610044_26c74f45991efb3dc29d616e8acafb3163661ae6573c5314538e59c54d5ca0a5" data-rendition-name="original" width="2368" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Highways NT"> <figcaption>Bhainse in 2017. The road divided here, one going to Bhimphedi on the right, the main road proceeding to Kathmandu on the left. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260416100416_4d9321abf4d912796842fe963a493501e1aceff462300ecdd9bd5e0b8ba7f294.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20260416100416_4d9321abf4d912796842fe963a493501e1aceff462300ecdd9bd5e0b8ba7f294" data-rendition-name="original" width="649" height="1667" loading="lazy" alt="Highway info NT"> </figure>  Even 70 years after it was built, there is still speculation about India's security concerns vis-a-vis China, and how Indian Army engineers purposely made the road longer than it needed to be over the 2,500 Sim Bhanjyang pass instead of following the river route.&nbsp; There is also some evidence that although the Rana regime had first requested the US for help with the highway, Nehru did not want the Americans involved in Nepal. Which is why the Tribhuvan Highway became an Indian military project.&nbsp; There was similar concern from India about the Kodari Highway linking Kathmandu to China, and King Mahednra is famously supposed to have said: "Communism will not come here in a taxi."&nbsp; Geopolitics still affects Nepal's strategic highways. After decades, links to China are still rough and often blocked. Kathmandu-Tarai Fast Track is delayed by years, and not expected to be completed during this decade. Trucks and buses still bypass the Tribuvan Highway with a 200km detour via Mugling because the other alternative routes like the Tika Bhairav or Chhaimale routes are not suitable for heavy vehicles.&nbsp; The shortcut through Chitlang that the Swiss proposed in the 1950s is still too difficult. And a 25km section of the Japanese-built BP Highway to the eastern Tarai has been knocked out by the 202 flood. Dan Edwards was a Peace Corps volunteer in 1966 and is the author of several books on Nepal. This is the fourth instalment in a new limited series in Nepali Times on the historic transportation infrastructures of Nepal.

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