Nepal has never quite done this before. A party barely three years old, born from the fury of a generation that flooded Kathmandu’s streets demanding accountability, is now poised to form one of the most powerful governments in the country’s post-federal history. The Rastriya Swatantra Party’s sweeping performance in the mid-term elections, triggered by the dissolution of parliament following Gen Z-led protests against governmental mismanagement, is by any measure a political earthquake. But as Nepalis know well, earthquakes do not come without aftershocks.

The RSP is projected to secure a majority, with real possibilities of approaching two-thirds of parliamentary seats, making it the largest single political force in modern Nepali democratic history. The achievement is historic. So is the responsibility it carries.

New force in an old machinery

Nepal’s Constitution, the hard-won achievement of two Constituent Assembly elections, decades of armed conflict and countless protests, is the nation’s greatest political achievement. It is also its most fragile one. The RSP has gestured towards constitutional revision in parts of its platform. That is precisely where the danger lies. Amendment in Nepal is not a technocratic exercise. It risks releasing ethnic tensions, federalism disputes and historical grievances that have never healed fully. A new party with freshly minted lawmakers and limited institutional memory would do well to tread very carefully on this ground.

There is also the immediate problem of governance mechanics. Nepal’s bureaucracy is a labyrinthine structure entrenched over decades. It is not designed to move quickly, and it does not reward inexperience. Many of RSP’s newly elected parliamentarians are entering this system for the first time. The gap between electoral charisma and bureaucratic navigation is wide, and how rapidly the party bridges it will determine whether the next five years feel like reform or frustration.

A storm beyond our borders

RSP’s domestic challenges, significant as they are, may pale beside the global forces reshaping the economic and geopolitical order. The Middle East remains a tinderbox. A prolonged conflict there, or any escalation involving major oil-producing nations, will send energy prices soaring globally. For a landlocked country that imports all its petroleum products, this is not a distant concern. It is an incoming tide. Global supply chain disruptions, rising freight costs and currency volatility have already contributed to inflationary pressures across South Asia, and Nepal’s import-dependent economy is structurally vulnerable to such external shocks.

The citizens who voted for change will not distinguish between global inflation and domestic mismanagement. They will see prices rising and look to Singha Durbar for answers. The RSP must be prepared to explain, clearly and repeatedly, why some of what ails the economy originates far beyond Nepal’s borders, and do so without sounding like they are making excuses.

The currency question

Among RSP’s more controversial economic planks is a stated interest in reviewing Nepal’s currency peg to the Indian Rupee, an arrangement that has anchored monetary policy for decades. The peg has genuine critics. It limits Nepal Rastra Bank’s monetary autonomy and ties Nepal’s inflation trajectory directly to India’s. But it also provides stability and predictability in an uncertain environment. Over 60 percent of Nepal’s trade is with India, millions of workers send remittances in Indian Rupees, and the informal cross-border economy is enormous. Disrupting the peg without a credible alternative monetary framework risks inviting the very economic turmoil the party seeks to prevent.

Reform of this magnitude, in a global environment already rife with currency volatility, demands extraordinary caution and institutional preparation. The RSP has capable economists in its ranks. The question is whether political pressure for quick wins will allow them the time to do this right.

Navigating a fracturing world

Nepal’s foreign policy has long rested on balanced equidistance, a careful act of tightrope walking between India to the south and China to the north, while maintaining ties with Western donors and multilateral institutions. That balancing act served Nepal reasonably well for decades. But the world is rapidly sorting itself into harder blocs, and the era of comfortable non-alignment is under pressure.

The new government will inherit an unresolved relationship with the Millennium Challenge Corporation compact, ongoing friction over BRI implementation with China, and a trade relationship with India that has structural imbalances baked in. Managing all three simultaneously, in a world defined by great power competition, requires not just diplomatic skill but a coherent long-term strategic vision. A legislature populated by lawmakers unfamiliar with the fine print of existing bilateral agreements is a real vulnerability. Nepal’s experienced diplomats will need to serve as a stabilising force while political leadership finds its footing.

Weight of expectation

RSP’s rise is genuinely inspiring. It represents a generational shift in Nepali politics, a repudiation of dynastic patronage networks, and a real demand for competence and accountability. Policy reforms, if designed well and implemented patiently, will produce results. But those results have a lag, and in politics, the lag is where you lose.

The citizens who voted for the RSP did not sign up for a five-year tutorial in macroeconomics or geopolitics. When prices rise, they will want answers. When reforms take time, they will want explanations. The RSP must be ready not just to govern, but to communicate honestly with a public that is impatient. Nepal remains, in many ways, an infant democracy. Its constitution is young, its institutions untested under a majority government, and its people are watching closely. The RSP has been given something rare in Nepali politics: A genuine mandate. What they do with it will define not just their legacy, but the trajectory of the republic itself.