Political news from Nepal often feels like a glitch in the matrix: A repetitive play of events from 10, 20, or even 30 years ago. One could blindly pick newspapers from old archives, and the chances of events reading eerily similar to today’s political ‘developments’ are very high.

Even politicians admit their abject failure to deliver, yet they are accountable to the same old ways. Voters are stuck between old parties that are different only in name and upstart smaller parties yet to prove their value. As Janan Ganesh put it in his brilliant article in the Financial Times, every country is seeing its own version of the “doom loop of modern politics.”

There is a consensus that politicians are generally untrustworthy. Hence, people with strong competence or prospects in other fields avoid jumping into this muck for fear of sullying their names for uncertain outcomes. This leaves the field open to family members and princelings of the old guard—and others with fewer prospects elsewhere.

With ‘professional’ politicians crowding this space, public service has become the first casualty. Governance has suffered, and groups with narrow individual interests disproportionately influence policy formulation. In an increasingly complex world where results are expected almost in real-time and with high frequency, failure to deliver feeds another cycle of cynicism among voters. This further discourages ‘good and competent’ people from jumping into the fray.

Those entering Nepali politics, until now, have primarily been people who claim some sort of sacrifice made during democratic or republican movements. While this is not to belittle their hard work and sacrifice, it can no longer be the only criterion for seeking party positions or tickets. With internal democracy so weak among all parties, there is no scope for professionals from other fields to provide public service through politics. Our traditional political class is so scared of new entrants that they have erected many restrictive structures within the old parties, making it difficult for fresh joiners to succeed. This leads many to eventually quit or join others. Swarnim Wagle is one of many examples of how this restrictive political system plays out.

This issue is equally prevalent in the civil service. Instead of opening up provisions for lateral hiring to infuse fresh talent, every effort is made to keep the bureaucracy incompetent and pliant. The traditional parties have not made any serious efforts to reform the bureaucracy, a topic that deserves a separate discussion.

The only route available now is newer disruptive parties winning elections. The competition would help internal party politics as it would put pressure on choosing good candidates and may ultimately lead to party primaries that empower voters to choose who will be on the party ballot. This would help strengthen Nepali democracy.

The recent uncharacteristic joining of hands by the Nepali Congress and the Unified Marxist-Leninist (UML)—equivalent to US Republicans and Democrats uniting—to form the government is largely a response to the pressure being felt by the old guards. When this experiment fails and voters punish one or both parties for ditching the fictitious ideological line, the party leadership will be forced to adopt more measures that could, by default, strengthen internal democracy.

The hope is that this will create an enabling internal ecosystem within the old parties for young and comparatively more competent leaders to assert themselves. It is depressing to see that the young “Turks” who weren’t once afraid to challenge the monarch from the streets during royal rule have been forced to cower in silence, or worse, to defend the shenanigans of their party leadership.

Silver lining

Not everything is doom and gloom. The recent success of upstart parties like the Rastriya Swatantra Party, the Janamat Party and the Nagarik Unmukti Party, as well as independent mayors like Balendra Shah, Harka Sampang and Gopal Hamal, is a testament to changing voting behaviour. There is much more willingness to break out of the mould and vote for hope. In traditional party strongholds, voters are voting in refreshing patterns.

Even party cadres seem much more willing to vote against their candidates if they think those from rival parties would be better for their local area. Take, for instance, anecdotal evidence from Bharatpur and Damak mayoral vote counts in the last election. In Damak, out of the 10 wards, the UML won seven ward chair positions yet lost to the Rastriya Prajatantra Party in the mayoral election. The RPP only won one ward chair position. The story is similar in Bharatpur. The Maoists only won three ward chair positions out of 29, and in most of the wards, the party was not even a distant third in the vote tally, yet Renu Dahal won by a wide margin to be the mayor. Voters were clearly rewarding Renu for her delivery. Her father, being the prime minister, may have helped, but that is beside the point.

We must encourage and support this disruption in politics. Political pundits should stop being cynical about the early lacklustre performance, occasional bad apples and missteps of the new parties barely two years into the process. Ultimately, Nepal needs much more direct democracy, not less, which means more choices for the voters. The old guards, who benefit from the current process that gives them a stranglehold over government formation and party selections, are making a last-ditch effort to maintain the status quo. It is a tragedy that traditional opinion makers and gatekeepers fail to recognise this misdirection and continue to be swayed by the knee-jerk reactions of the old guard.

Political communication takes place very differently in this social media age. Mainstream media’s failure to reimagine its role only reinforces mistrust of institutions, feeding a frenzy within self-perpetuating social media echo chambers and further eroding trust in the democratic system.