The people of Nepal delivered an unprecedented judgment in the elections two weeks ago. The ‘youthquake’ is triggering not only a change of government but also a fresh assessment of the very functioning of political parties and their relationship with the people. Within political parties, we are seeing a significant level of power shift. How did the powerless people in Nepal become so powerful as to effect these fundamental changes? One is reminded here of the seminal essay, The Power of the Powerless, by Vaclav Havel, an acclaimed writer and the first president of the Czech Republic. The 1978 essay was written in an entirely different context of power dynamics in Eastern European countries. But we can relate it to the outcomes of these elections in Nepal.

Sources of power for the marginalised

Havel tends to see two important sources of power for the ordinary people: ‘dissent’ shaped by one’s moral compass and the resolve to “live within the truth”. It is within the power of ‘dissidents’ (defined as a “category of sub-citizens outside the power establishment”) to exercise influence on the socio-political systems, provided they are willing to use their conscience. For Havel, a dissident is not necessarily defined by membership in an organised opposition. The ability to rely on one’s own moral compass for not succumbing to the diktat of power-holders is what defines a dissident. Dissent is thus a choice available to anyone, including the powerless, who decides to stop living in the world of lies.

How did it happen?

The first step for voters towards this silent revolution was to use their moral compass to identify political leaders and institutions “living within the lies”. People scrutinised the actions of established political parties that always promised reform but delivered corruption, nepotism, and poor governance. The Gen Z protests of September provide evidence of this. Havel’s principle of ‘living within the truth’ was reflected in the act of voting based on conscience. Unlike in the past, voters were not necessarily using their ballot for ideology. They cast their vote as a conscious, moral action to reject the “lie” and demand good governance and public services. The younger generation leaders focused on performative politics where people’s belief in overarching narratives is replaced by an emphasis on political participation, individualised opinions, and responsive political actions. The political platform of grand narratives is giving way to simple and accessible debates over pragmatic solutions to local problems. They understood this change. A critical mass of dissidents was able to influence the voters’ decision. An individual moral act was transformed into a collective force for systemic change. The vote thus provides compelling evidence of voters living within the truth. We saw in these elections dissidents who morally challenged the system by running against established party leaders. They were clearly symbolising a generational change. This exposed the fragility of the old power structure, which was perhaps based on what Yuval Noah Harari refers to as ‘intersubjective reality’ (which ceases to exist if everyone stops believing in it). Havel’s dissidents are not necessarily professional politicians. They are people who became a focal point for hope by using their conscience in making a political choice. This is mirrored in people’s voting decisions. The dissident identity was not limited to one leader or one voter. The Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) fielded young candidates, many of whom were directly involved in the Gen Z protests. Their presence on the ballot was a form of ‘living within the truth’ as they were seen as the living embodiment of the Gen Z movement.

The RSP has won 125 out of 165 constituencies in the FPTP and secured almost fifty percent seats in the proportional vote. The massive win is an exposé on the failure of traditional political parties to deliver. It has also shown that the decades-long dominance of established parties was already eroding. Just that they were benefiting from an illusion of a lack of credible alternatives. When a critical mass of citizens chose to live within the truth by advocating for change, the old power structure crumbled.

A key aspect of the power of the powerless is also the refusal to participate in the electoral competition. And, this did happen in some communities. Voters boycotted elections en masse at several polling stations across various districts, including Darchula, Dang and Okhaldhunga. They refrained from participating in the voting process, citing their unaddressed demands.

Improvisation is another tool to exercise power. The power structure generally relies on rigid, systematic control and is not ready for spontaneous actions of the powerless. As a result, they are able to catch power-holders off guard. This was visible, for example, in credible pre-poll survey results that predicted ‘an RSP tsunami’ (which turned out to be true). But leaders of traditional parties shrugged them off. In some cases, people involved in opinion surveys were reportedly threatened with ‘dire consequences’.

Power as the inability to learn

Critical awareness of political, social and economic injustices among citizens led to the search for alternatives. In Nepal’s politics, dominated by a patron-client relationship, people were also able to exercise power by shifting loyalty between political groups. The process was accelerated by digital activism. With the collapse of centralised media in the digital age, it was a challenge for established parties to get people around a single, unified ‘ideology’. Powerful political actors did not realise this as they wanted to shape reality rather than to adjust to it. “Power is the ability to afford not to learn”, says Karl Deutsch, a political scientist. This leads to what is known as selective ignorance: powerful people can choose to ignore information that contradicts their interests. In Nepal’s context of power politics, Deutsch’s definition could be slightly expanded to also mean that “power has an inverse relationship with the ability to learn”. In other words, the more powerful you are, the less you need to learn (also known as “Dunning-Kruger effect”).

Dissent vs the art of governance

Applying Havel’s lens is challenging for governance. The moral power of being a dissident is different from mastering the practical art of governance. This is the RSP’s next, and perhaps the most difficult, test. Yesterday’s dissidents are now going to run the country, with all the complexities of governance. The new leaders moving into the corridors of power have leveraged poor governance, public discontent, economic hardship, and anger against established elites. It will not be easy for them to address these challenges. As they have promised ‘good governance’ to the people, they must now navigate the realities of building coalitions, generating shared understanding on economic policies, and managing relations with the international community, including our neighbours. The difficult question before the new leadership is whether the moral clarity of ‘living within the truth’ can be translated into the compromise required for effective governance.