Prime Minister Balen Shah’s absence from Parliament has dominated headlines in the last few weeks. For reasons known only to him, he has chosen not to attend, putting his own MPs on the defensive. He deputed the finance minister to respond on his behalf, but opposition parties remain livid. They call it a continued snub of the institution and accuse him of undermining parliamentary norms. It would have served him better to appear and address the house directly. Leaders are judged as much by their presence as by their actions. It’s hard to fathom why he chose to stay away at a moment when his presence could have defused the controversy.

Winston Churchill once described the Soviet Union as ‘a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma’. That line partly fits PM Shah. He is an enigma to many Nepalis. He rarely speaks, and when he does, he uses few words. His communication takes place through action rather than speeches or press conferences.

No political analyst expected him to challenge the established parties and win the general election with a thumping majority from KP Oli’s bastion. Yet he did. No one fully understands how he generated that wave of support that swept across urban and rural areas alike. Mysterious, maverick and unpredictable—those are the hallmarks of his political character. He doesn’t follow the script that Nepali politicians have used for three decades.

What defines him is speed. He springs into action against administrative atrophy, mismanagement and corruption with lightning speed. Roads get cleared, drains unclogged, encroachments removed, and files moved within days, not years. His fast, decisive moves have rattled political opponents, including those who call themselves defenders of democracy, and baffled his own supporters, who are used to a slower, more negotiated style of governance. In less than two months since assuming office, he tore the masks off those skilled only in political sophistry. He appears to be a sworn enemy of dissemblers who preach constitutionalism, good governance and transparency but practice the opposite when in power.

Strangely, these same dissemblers, who dragged the country to the edge of a precipice through decades of patronage and impunity, are now howling that democracy is imperilled under PM Shah. This haste to brand him an authoritarian, without credible evidence of rights violations or institutional dismantling, is both baffling and unfounded. It reflects a fear of losing control more than a defence of democratic principles.

While a storm rages in Parliament over his absence, he is busy razing the edifice of corruption and misrule that has been eating into the body politic. The question voters are asking is simple: Do we prefer a PM who talks in Parliament but changes nothing on the ground, or one who changes things on the ground even if he avoids the floor?

Change-maker, not iconoclast

The charge of ‘iconoclasm’ gets thrown around quickly in Nepali politics. Iconoclasts are religious or political fanatics who treat cultural and religious traditions as relics of regression. History is littered with such bigots who rampaged through temples and shrines, destroying idols and symbols in the name of ideology. The motive is the same: Erase the past to make way for a new order defined by the destroyers.

Lenin and his followers were among the first modern iconoclasts. Their interpretation of Marxism treated religion, culture and tradition as obstacles to building a communist society. Churches, mosques and temples were systematically destroyed or repurposed. Religious leaders were persecuted, exiled or killed. Atheism was pushed in schools and colleges to reshape young minds. The state became the sole source of meaning.

Mao’s Cultural Revolution was another example. In Chinese Shadows, Simon Leys gives a graphic account of the cultural, religious and human destruction it caused. Red Guards attacked teachers, scholars and anyone seen as preserving ‘feudal’ or ‘bourgeois’ culture. Ancient artefacts were smashed, temples defaced, and families torn apart.

Nepal has its own chapter. When the UML won the most seats in 1994, and Manmohan Adhikari became PM, Nepal’s culture and tradition came under attack as supposed vestiges of feudalism. Public figures suggested people should not observe Dashain. Maoists destroyed temples and educational institutions. The education system was denounced as bourgeois, and teachers were killed for teaching traditional curricula.

Protector, not destroyer

Balen Shah is not an iconoclast, unlike the UML and the Maoists in their early days in power. He is a change-maker and, more importantly, a protector and preserver of culture, history, religion and ancient tradition. The evidence is in the symbolism and substance of his actions. His swearing-in ceremony was observed with the blowing of conch shells and the recital of Vedic mantras by Brahmins—a deliberate signal that state power and cultural continuity are not in conflict. He restored the East-West Highway to its original name, reversing a change made for political symbolism. Old industries shut down by past governments, often through mismanagement and deliberate neglect, are reportedly being revived.

He is dismantling the vestiges of corrupt organisations, institutions and unions that had become parasites within the government. Removing them is not iconoclasm; it is state-building. This distinction matters. Iconoclasts destroy to erase memory. Change-makers remove obstacles to rebuild function.

Tension between old and new

Even when a new initiative is undertaken with the purest intentions, those with a traditionalist mindset will oppose it. That’s a historical fact. Change threatens positions, privileges and worldviews. Opposition is expected.

Yet it’s precisely through the ideological churn between new-thinking and traditionalist thought that the door to reform opens. Societies that stagnate are those that suppress that tension. Societies that progress are those that allow, manage and use it to separate what is essential from what is obsolete.

When an old house becomes dilapidated, it must be rebuilt to give it new life. In doing so, some old things inevitably have to be discarded. But you don’t tear down the foundation or the pillars that still hold. You preserve what gives the house its identity and rebuild what makes it livable.

That’s exactly what Balen seems to be doing. He is not erasing Nepal’s cultural identity. He is removing the administrative rot that has made the state dysfunctional. He is not attacking religion. He is attacking the corruption that has used religion as a shield. He is not anti-tradition; he is anti-stagnation.

Whether he succeeds will depend on his ability to sustain momentum, institutionalise reforms and eventually return to Parliament to defend them with words as well as deeds. But the direction is clear. Nepal doesn’t need another cycle of speeches without action, or destruction in the name of revolution. It needs a government that acts, preserves what matters and explains why. For now, Balen is trying to be that government.