The independent voter! That bane of psephologists, the fence-sitter, the one who does not know whether they are coming or going, and with that metaphorical smirk that keeps everyone guessing. That is what I used to think of this tribe until I went over my own record to realise, I was squarely one of them.

My frustration with the unaffiliated voter, of course, has to do with countries where electoral surveys take place periodically, usually the more mature democracies. Thus, for instance, in the context of the West, I would often wonder why these people could not take a stand, either for the left or the right. Especially when the contrast between the two sides has always been quite stark. Granted that the equation has flipped nowadays, with the working class boosting the votes of the populist right even as those with higher education have hewn more towards the centre-left. The choice, though, remains between apples and oranges.

In my defence, I should say that we never did have the benefit of such clear-cut distinctions. When we voted for the first time in 1991, even though the retrograde Rastriya Prajatantra Party already existed as two factions, the main competitors were the Nepali Congress and the CPN-UML. The former represented the traditionalists even as it ostensibly claimed democratic socialism as its guiding ideology. Likewise, the UML was ostensibly a revolutionary force but had come around to accepting a similar political platform. A faction of the extreme left that later became the Maoists was somewhat visible as well, but nowhere near challenging the Congress–UML duopoly. And thus, it has remained, notwithstanding the post-2006 churnings that have brought in many other political players into the fray: some national, some regional.

I live in Kathmandu’s constituency no 1, which for various reasons has come to be viewed as a prestigious seat and all sorts of characters have staked their political futures there. As someone whose only firm conviction has been not to back any party or individual advocating for the monarchy in any manner, I have voted for parties across the spectrum. The infuriating independent that I am, the choice has sometimes been based on the identity of the individual candidate, sometimes the party, and even on who stood the best chance of beating a pro-king candidate.

This time around, though, I know I will be voting for the NC candidate in Kathmandu–1, Prabal Thapa. I had never heard of the man till his name popped up in the news. That is immaterial. He is getting my vote because he represents the NC, and by extension, Gagan Thapa (no relation of mine, by the way).

Rooting for Gagan Thapa

Events have moved quickly since Gagan Thapa’s elevation to the highest post of the Congress in mid-January. But it was striking that compared to the celebratory and hopeful mood at the party’s special convention that elected Thapa, how off-putting it was seeing the hoary faces of the Sher Bahadur Deuba faction of the central working committee as they listlessly tried to counter the revolt. I could not be the only one who felt that those individuals represented everything that had gone wrong with our politics over the past 35 years. They had outlived their political lives.

Gagan Thapa’s political trajectory is well known. From a young student leader pelting stones in the movement against King Gyanendra’s takeover in 2002 to being among the first to advocate for the abolition of the monarchy a couple of years later, to his tenure as a parliamentarian and minister, and then general secretary of the party, he has jumped from strength to strength. His ouster of Deuba, who refused to fade away into dignified retirement, was the denouement.

Gagan Thapa’s rapid rise through the ranks was neither a fluke nor did it come about through someone’s blessing. In fact, both Girija Prasad Koirala and Deuba tried unsuccessfully to stymie his rise.

There has always been a certain dynamism about Gagan Thapa. The way he engages on a range of topics is evidence of an inquisitive mind. He is among the best-informed politicians we have, which could not have come about without a committed perseverance to continue learning. He does have his detractors, sometimes ill-founded, but his brief tenure as health minister showed him to be a visionary politician willing to take risks and also capable of delivering. Most importantly, I believe he has the integrity to lead the country to a better future, the kind of integrity that led him (and his fellow general secretary Bishwa Prakash Sharma) to immediately take responsibility for being party to enabling the conditions that led to the Gen Z movement, and resolving to do better going forward.

Generational hope

That kind of trust does not come easy to those of us who have experienced euphoria at least three times in as many decades—in 1990, following the end of the Panchayat autocracy; in 2006, that spelt the end of the Maoist insurgency and the promised of a New Nepal; and once again, albeit somewhat mutedly, in 2015, with the adoption of the constitution of a federal Nepal. Although each time our hopes have been dashed, we have no choice but to dare to dream yet again. And, at this juncture, I would rather dream of Gagan Thapa being at the helm than anyone else.

Consider the alternatives. The duo of Pushpa Kamal Dahal and Madhav Kumar Nepal inspire not a whit. The Madhesh-based parties have come together yet again to present a united front that is likely to last till the results are announced. Kulman Ghising’s outfit has spluttered even before starting. The Rastriya Prajatantra Party is there somewhere. The UML is still under the iron grip of Oli, and so, the less said of it, the better. The Rastriya Swatantra Party appears buoyed by the crowds Balendra Shah is able to draw, but we are yet to know if that is a political party or a coalition of disparate individuals seeking comfort in numbers. A smattering of other hopefuls are inconsequential.

Given this plethora of players all vying for an electorate that is in a sour mood, the upcoming elections stand out also for being perhaps the first in which no one has dared come up with any prognosis. Even if they ultimately turn out to be wrong—as they were in 2008—political pundits are quick to point out trends. But their silence this time is quite revealing.

That is what the Congress party under Gagan Thapa is up against. It had the momentum for some time although seems to be wasting away as election fever gears up. Not all the Congress candidates inspire confidence either; some unsavoury holdovers from the ‘old’ Congress have also been fielded.

It is entirely possible that the Nepali Congress may not get a shot at forming the government. Were that to happen, it could serve as an opportunity to rejuvenate the grand old party from the grassroots. For unless someone as promising emerges in the political firmament, it is my firm belief that Gagan Thapa represents the last hope for a generation—whether he reaches the top now or in the next election cycle.