After the royal proclamation on April 26, 2006, we gathered at Girija Prasad Koirala’s residence in Maharajgunj. Following extensive consultations, one of our senior leaders stepped forward to address the crowd that had assembled outside.
He read out the collective decision we had reached. But the people standing before us had come with different expectations—they weren’t looking for a cautious, negotiated message. They wanted clarity. They wanted conviction.
So I took the agreement signed by the seven parties and stepped forward myself. As I read it aloud, I improvised: “We will go for a Constituent Assembly. We will establish a republic.”
The crowd erupted in cheers. They believed every word. Energized by their response, I added more to the statement, shaping it in real time. I still remember leading that jubilant crowd from there to Ratna Park.
Just a few days later, a group of young Maoist-affiliated activists gathered outside Singha Durbar, demanding that the statue of Prithvi Narayan Shah be removed. I remember telling them—firmly—that the statue would not, and should not, be taken down under any circumstances. They listened. The statue remains. That was 2006. Now, we are in Jestha 2082 (2025).
In these nearly two decades, we’ve witnessed dramatic transformations—struggles within and beyond the Constituent Assembly, and turbulence both inside and outside state institutions.
Let me be direct—we’ve become too defensive. And when we retreat from public spaces, we lose ground. We start looking abroad for validation. Or we romanticize the past. That’s when slogans like “Make Nepal Great Again” begin to catch on.
At times, it felt as if the journey we began after the movement was veering toward collapse. But we persevered. We survived. And eventually, we gave this achievement a name: the republic.
A republic is a highway—let’s celebrate it
The republic we have today is worth celebrating. Many nations that emerged from similarly tumultuous histories failed to stay the course. But we did. We held our ground, and here we are.
We’ve built a highway. Let’s take ownership of it. Let’s be proud of what we’ve created. Let’s pass on our belief in this path to the next generation. Let’s tell them: this was not an accident. It was intentional. Deliberate. Hard-earned. The nation must now travel forward on this road.
Yes, challenges remain. At times, it feels as if traffic is moving one way, while something entirely different barrels toward us from the opposite direction. But that’s how highways function. Many vehicles, many directions. The problem lies not in the road—but in a particular vehicle. And sometimes, in the driver.
If the vehicle is faulty, it needs to be repaired. If the driver is unfit, they must be replaced. The road, however, remains sound. That’s the rule of the highway.
Back then, there was no highway. No vehicles. No breakdowns to point to. Today, we have roads and vehicles—that’s progress.
Yet, when we speak of the republic—our highway—we often sound defensive. We shouldn’t. We should speak with conviction and pride.
Yes, corruption, misgovernance, and public frustration are real. These are serious problems and they must be addressed. But let’s not forget, as Ghanshyam Bhusal aptly pointed out—the monarchy had its own excesses. If today’s leaders are repeating those mistakes, we must summon the same courage to challenge them as we once did the king. The message is clear: reform—or be replaced.
Where have we gone wrong? Let’s hold a national conference
We have made mistakes. Corruption and dysfunction are visible across key institutions—from constitutional bodies to the judiciary. Dr. Mahesh Maskey said it well: “The dreams may have died.” But the questions haven’t. And as long as questions persist, hope remains alive.
We talk about democratic culture. But we must also confront what’s happening within our political parties. In a democratic republic, parties are the cornerstone. And yet, the same old faces—faces repeatedly rejected by the public—continue to cling to power. This isn’t the norm in functioning democracies elsewhere.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again—with full respect to the senior leaders of Nepal’s major parties: if they announced today that they were stepping aside, the people’s movement would dissolve by evening. It would end instantly.
Of course, this wouldn’t solve every problem. Our issues are systemic and complex. But this gesture would be foundational. Without it, we cannot move forward.
So the question before us is this: do we give up? Or do we take the next step toward meaningful transformation? Yes, the internal struggle within political parties continues. But this very struggle is what keeps the door open for change.
Let’s respect differences—and reject distorted alliances
One final thought. Within our political parties, we may share certain values—but we also have ideological differences. And that’s not only normal, it’s necessary.
Ghanshyam Bhusal and I don’t share the same worldview. That’s why we belong to different parties. We agree that unemployment is Nepal’s most urgent issue. But we disagree on how to solve it. We envision different models, different pathways. We want to present these differences to the people and let them decide. That is the essence of a healthy democracy.
The problem is, people now see us all as the same. We drink the same water, share the same elite backgrounds—and this blurs the lines. As Ram Kumari Jhakri rightly observed, politics has become de-politicized. But we are not the same. And our differences matter.
Unfortunately, the culture of opportunistic coalitions has drowned out real ideological debate. That must end. Today, some even claim that by 2084 BS, political parties will be irrelevant—that ideology will no longer matter. Only alliances and betrayals will count. This reflects a dangerous erosion of trust.
So, here is my appeal: political parties must practice internal democracy and uphold ideological clarity. We must know who we are, what we stand for, and where we draw the line.
To the younger generation watching us—yes, Ghanshyam Bhusal, Ram Kumari Jhakri, Thakur Gaire, and I may appear as fellow travelers from the same movement. And yes, we do share some core values. But we hold different visions for Nepal’s future. The youth must hear these differences. Let us debate them openly. Let us compete with ideas. Because if we don’t, we will all be lumped into the same broken system—and that’s the real danger.
Former King Gyanendra must come forward and answer
During my years in student politics with the Nepali Congress, we were taught that the party rested on two pillars: constitutional monarchy and multi-party democracy. This wasn’t merely political strategy—it was a belief that shaped our identity.
But over time, we faced a harsh truth: while the Nepali Congress tried to support a constitutional monarchy, Nepal’s monarchy never became truly constitutional. At its core, it remained rigid, resistant to reform, and incompatible with democratic ideals. It wasn’t constitutional then. It isn’t now. And it never will be.
So today, Gyanendra must answer. He must step forward and speak to the people. History does not forget—nor should we. This debate isn’t about being misled by RPP leaders, or captivated by rhetorical nostalgia. It’s about choosing a path: monarchy or republic? Which future do we envision for Nepal?
We must not trivialize this debate—especially now that Gyanendra Shah, the former king, has re-entered politics with a clear agenda to revive the monarchy. He must be held accountable. Journalists must question him too—not just us. What is his vision? What does he plan to offer?
If the monarchy is to return, then what’s the roadmap? What’s the plan for tackling today’s greatest crisis: unemployment? Where are the ideas?
This does not mean I reject our party’s internal processes. I respect the rules. If I don’t succeed this time, I’ll try again. This is not about personal animosity. On the contrary, I have a brotherly relationship with him and deep respect for his service. But I genuinely believe that I—and others like me—better understand the challenges Nepal faces today, and we are prepared with the ideas and energy to tackle them.
Instead, we are given vague, symbolic statements after long silences. Once, that may have passed for wisdom. Not anymore. In a republic, leaders must answer to the public.
You don’t lead by hiding behind a golden past
Let me be direct—we’ve become too defensive. And when we retreat from public spaces, we lose ground. We start looking abroad for validation. Or we romanticize the past. That’s when slogans like “Make Nepal Great Again” begin to catch on.
It becomes all too easy to sell nostalgia to the youth—to claim Nepal was once great, and that returning to the past will fix the present. But that’s a trap. It anchors us in history, instead of pushing us toward progress.
We must confront the present. We must engage with real solutions. We must debate visions for the future—boldly and transparently. If someone claims to lead a movement to restore monarchy, they must be ready to face questions. Why should republicans be interrogated while monarchists escape scrutiny? This imbalance must end. The national conversation must evolve—honestly and fearlessly.
The real measure of leadership is solving today’s problems
Pointing to statistics—like the number of TVs or megawatts of electricity—doesn’t define real progress. The true metric is how we address the issues of today: unemployment, broken institutions, public disillusionment.
We need a political culture where actors compete by offering real, actionable solutions. That’s how we move forward—not by glorifying the past, but by confronting the present with clarity, courage, and accountability.
Nepali Congress has many capable leaders
There’s a widespread assumption that the current party president will become Prime Minister in 12 to 15 months. But I believe there are dozens of leaders in the Nepali Congress who are capable—perhaps more so—of assuming that role. I intend to compete for it myself.
This does not mean I reject our party’s internal processes. I respect the rules. If I don’t succeed this time, I’ll try again. This is not about personal animosity. On the contrary, I have a brotherly relationship with him and deep respect for his service. But I genuinely believe that I—and others like me—better understand the challenges Nepal faces today, and we are prepared with the ideas and energy to tackle them.
(Edited excerpt from remarks by Nepali Congress General Secretary Gagan Thapa at a civic dialogue titled “Republic is the Right Path,” held in Patandhoka on Saturday.)
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