Royal Illusion

The monarchy’s brief return to Nepalese political discourse signals popular despair but not a real alternative.

A whiff of nostalgia lingers in Kathmandu’s polluted spring air these days. Last week, a few thousand supporters of the pro-monarchist Rastriya Prajatantra Party (RPP) rallied near the high-security precincts housing Nepal’s Parliament and Prime Minister’s residence. Waving placards demanding the reinstatement of the monarchy and the re-establishment of Nepal as a Hindu state, they cried slogans denouncing republicanism. Led by the RPP chairman Rajendra Lingden and other senior leaders, they clashed symbolically with an overwhelming police presence.

Since 2008, when Nepal’s 240-year-old monarchy was abolished after a bloody civil war and a popular uprising, the country has been a secular, federal republic in name but a dysfunctional democracy in practice. In the seventeen years since, Nepal has cycled through 14 governments, each more transient and ineffective than the last. No prime minister has completed a full term. The present government, led by Khadga Prasad Oli of the Communist Party of Nepal (Unified Marxist-Leninist), fares no better. Rampant corruption, cronyism and maladministration have fuelled widespread disenchantment, providing fertile ground for nostalgia for an imagined golden past.

This frustration is what the monarchy’s supporters now seek to exploit. But the crowds gathering under the banner of former King Gyanendra Bir Bikram Shah Dev are less monarchist than they are anti-system. Independent observers confirm that many protestors are not ardent royalists but angry citizens disillusioned with the fractious politics of the Nepali Congress, the UML, and the Maoist Centre - all of whom have taken turns misgoverning Nepal. Their demands for a return to monarchy reflect a desperate yearning for stability rather than a reasoned endorsement of authoritarian nostalgia.

Gyanendra himself is an unlikely saviour. As king, he was no defender of democracy. In 2005 he dismissed the elected government, imposed emergency rule, jailed political opponents and sought to reimpose direct monarchical rule only to be toppled by a united front of democratic forces and Maoist rebels in 2006. That moment, celebrated as the Jana Andolan (People’s Movement), was not merely a rejection of one ruler but of an entire system of feudal autocracy. It is bitterly ironic that Gyanendra now styles himself as the saviour of the nation’s democratic aspirations.

The pro-monarchy movement today is weak, fragmented and tainted. The royalist camp’s political base is narrow, composed largely of conservative elites opposed to federalism and ethnic inclusion. Even the broader Nepalese intelligentsia remains sceptical.

The 2015 Constitution enshrined Nepal as a sovereign, secular, inclusive, democratic, socialism-oriented federal democratic republican state - a vision still far from being realised, but one that cannot be easily undone. Any serious attempt to reinstate the monarchy would require dismantling Nepal’s hard-won federal structure, rolling back protections for minorities like the Madhesis and Janajatis, and reversing advances in gender representation. That would not restore stability; it would spark new unrest.

There are some in our country who look upon the Nepalese monarchy fondly, mistakenly viewing it as a bulwark of Hindu tradition and a strategic counterweight to Chinese influence. Such romanticism is misplaced. Historically, the Nepalese palace cultivated anti-Indian sentiment to shore up its own legitimacy. Gyanendra’s policy of ‘equidistance’ from India and China was never more than a fig leaf for an opportunistic, isolationist nationalism that alienated New Delhi without strengthening Kathmandu’s hand.

Moreover, Nepal’s problems today stem not from secularism or federalism, but from the failures of governance. Restoring a Hindu monarchy would magnify these failures, undermining the fragile pluralism that holds Nepal together. It would disenfranchise historically marginalised communities, invite authoritarianism back through the palace gates and tilt Nepal closer to Beijing, not further from it.

The monarchy’s fleeting return to the headlines may satisfy the bruised egos of royalists and stir the dreams of disillusioned citizens. But it offers no real future for Nepal. Stability will not come from reviving a failed institution but from strengthening the republican experiment: reforming institutions, delivering governance and rebuilding public trust. Only then can Nepal move beyond the ghosts of its feudal past.