A little over half of the electorate did not vote for the Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) in the general elections a few months ago. As one of that multitude, I guess I have some right to speak for them. For I am sure I am not alone in facing the paradox of looking askance at a government led by someone one had fervently hoped would not prevail while also equally fervently hoping that the said individual and his team succeed.

Such has been the collective dilemma for many since Balendra Shah assumed charge as prime minister, leading a parliamentary majority that most politicians can only dream of. As a Cabinet of relative youngsters took over the government, there was expectedly a measure of optimism among RSP voters (and others as well) that the country would now finally shift gears. Unfortunately, four months later, the initial doubts about the RSP are coming to light.

The positive aspect of having newcomers hold the reins is that they would still be driven by idealism and open to innovative approaches, enabling a fresh start. The flip side to that would always be that their collective inexperience and lack of understanding of the political exigencies required to balance the different interest groups would become apparent. Expectedly, the government has taken one misstep after another with the arrest and court-ordered release of former prime minister KP Sharma Oli and others, and the inhumane haste with which the squatter settlements were demolished being two early examples.

Of ambassadors and envoys

The wholesale recall of all politically appointed ambassadors from around the world and its aftermath is another instance of not having thought things through. The practice until now that half the ambassadors would be foreign service cadre and half appointed at will by the ruling party(ies) was not conducive to the conduct of much meaningful diplomacy in the case of the latter. Particularly when they were recalled with every change of government in Kathmandu. The solution, the RSP believes, is to select ambassadorships through open competition. Accordingly, the government is now engaged in a mammoth exercise of sifting through the 4,500 or so applications it has received in response to its call.

To begin with, I fail to understand why people place such a premium on becoming an ambassador. Apart from serving the Nepali diaspora spread across the globe, there is little diplomacy to engage in since we are too unimportant to merit any attention. I think the only place where Nepali diplomats are accorded any respect is Lhasa, although all we have there is a consul general, heading the only foreign mission there. Everywhere else, even in India and China, we really do not matter. A headline published in this daily in 2023 says it all: ‘Nepal’s ambassadors wait—months on end—for political access in Delhi, Beijing.’

Secondly, if the whole point of sending an ambassador is to further a country’s interests, selecting someone through open competition can hardly be the best way to go about it. It may seem like a fair approach, but unlike other public sector jobs, an ambassador must be totally in tune with their government back home, and that is not necessarily what someone chosen via a selection process is likely to be. Why the RSP insists on filling half the ambassadorial positions from outside the foreign ministry is still a mystery. Career diplomats are usually best placed to serve as ambassadors, although outsiders might have to be brought in depending on circumstances.

Take the case of how India does things. A few months ago, amid deteriorating relations with Bangladesh, the government sent a senior leader of the ruling party as its top envoy to Dhaka. Such an individual with direct access to the highest echelons of power back home can be instrumental in repairing strained ties. (For the record, there is currently only one other political appointee among the more than 200 ambassadors and consul generals India has around the world.)

The utility of such an appointment became clear even in Nepal back in 1989–90 when we had suffered through an Indian blockade. As soon as a new government took over, New Delhi first sent SK Sinha, the dhaka topi-wearing, Nepali-speaking, retired general with a background in a Gorkha regiment. Sinha was followed by another well-wisher of Nepal, Bimal Prasad, an academic who was known personally to many Nepali leaders. The goodwill generated by these two genuine friends of Nepal at such a difficult time in Nepal-India ties cannot be underestimated. That may not have been possible had a foreign ministry official been sent as ambassador, as has been the norm.

Action-oriented inaction

Over the years of observing politicians and their ways, I have noticed two indicators, albeit very unscientific, to gauge if they are going to be just ‘talkers’ and not ‘doers’. The first is if they make a show in front of cameras of getting into the thick of action, such as a mayor sweeping the streets or the home minister personally leading a raid on hotels. There is little to expect from anyone who indulges in such theatrics.

The second is the penchant for issuing directives, which perhaps comes with the sense of authority that comes with being in office. Ministers love going into the field to inspect infrastructure works and order immediate progress. I often wonder what project officials accompanying the minister (or some such politician) scribble frantically in their notebooks while listening to their political boss, since project timelines barely budge despite the peremptory commands thrown their way every now and again.

Ministers from the RSP government have been quick to pick up these old traits. From the record so far, the one minister who seems to have been the most effective is the foreign minister. Being the quiet sort, he is not all over social media or even in the news. There is indeed a lot of truth in the saying that empty vessels making a lot of noise.

Whither RSP?

The most worrisome developments this past week were the sudden appearance of cars blocking access to some media houses. From all indications, this appears to have been an attempt by some state actors at some good old intimidation of the media. Seemingly caught off-guard by these antics, a prominent member of the RSP was quite scathing in his reaction, calling it ‘childish’ and asking if that was what the Gen Z movement was all about.

The obvious rift between the party and the government is becoming even clearer, and that has partly to do with the way Prime Minister Shah has been governing—through a small coterie. Leaders around the world have had what are called kitchen cabinets, but these tend to include members of the cabinet along with friends and relatives. In Shah’s case, everyone within his intimate circle is a friend, and it is through their prism the prime minister prefers to see the world. As a journalist wrote, Shah’s reliance on this group of friends has raised questions not only about his ability to exercise sound judgment but even his competence as prime minister.

The differences among the top leadership of the RSP do not bode well for the party or the country. In the very last of the one hundred ways in which its election manifesto promised a new beginning, the RSP pointed out that there is a long history of political parties coming to prominence with the promise to build the country but losing their way once in power. The party and the government would do well to go back to their commitments and remember that the same electorate that gave them a huge mandate can be equally harsh on them in the next round—if not earlier.