Nepal today finds itself standing at a sensitive and defining moment in its democratic journey. Nearly two decades have passed since the abolition of the monarchy and the birth of a federal democratic republic, yet the promise of that transformation still feels incomplete. Elections are held regularly, governments change, slogans echo across streets and social media-but beneath this noise lies a troubling emptiness. Political competition is intense, but its substance is often unclear. Parties mobilize crowds, appeal to emotions, and circulate comforting rhetoric, yet fail to present clear, credible electoral agendas. What should be a serious democratic exercise increasingly resembles a political spectacle.
This reality raises an uncomfortable but necessary question: can political parties claim loyalty to citizens and the state when they campaign without clear agendas? And more critically, when ideas of nationhood and national identity are sidelined or selectively used for convenience, what direction are these forces steering Nepal's political future toward?
Answering these questions requires more than partisan critique. It demands a deeper look into Nepal's political history, the meaning of electoral agendas, the motivations behind their absence, and the consequences this trend holds for democracy, citizenship, and national cohesion.
A history of transformation, A struggle for substance
Nepal's modern political history is defined by upheaval and hope. The People's Movement of 1990 ended absolute monarchy and introduced multiparty democracy, opening the door to public participation and political pluralism. The Maoist insurgency between 1996 and 2006 shook the foundations of the state, exposing deep inequalities and demanding radical restructuring. The Comprehensive Peace Accord of 2006 ended armed conflict and reoriented the nation toward republicanism. The Constituent Assembly election of 2008 formally abolished the monarchy, and the 2015 Constitution institutionalized federalism, secularism, and republicanism.
These were not minor adjustments; they were historic ruptures. Nepal did not merely change governments-it redefined the nature of the state itself. Yet while structures changed, political behavior often did not evolve at the same pace. Power remained concentrated among a small circle of established parties and leaders. Coalition politics became routine, ideology blurred, and electoral competition gradually shifted from debates over policy to contests of personality and symbolism.
In theory, such a dramatic transformation should have sharpened political agendas. Parties should have been compelled to clarify their visions for federal governance, economic restructuring, social justice, and national unity. In practice, however, electoral agendas increasingly dissolved into vague promises of "development," "good governance," and "prosperity," rarely accompanied by concrete plans or honest assessments of limitations.
Why electoral agendas matter in a Democracy
An electoral agenda is not a ceremonial document released during election season and forgotten afterward. At its core, it is a political commitment-a declaration of priorities, choices, and responsibilities. A meaningful agenda outlines policy proposals, explains how they will be implemented, and acknowledges trade-offs. It reflects an understanding of social realities, economic constraints, and constitutional obligations. Most importantly, it forms a contract between political parties and voters.
Clear agendas matter because they give democracy depth. They allow citizens to make informed choices based on competing ideas rather than emotional loyalty. They create benchmarks against which governments can be evaluated. They strengthen state legitimacy by showing that power is exercised with direction and purpose. Without agendas, elections become rituals of endorsement rather than moments of collective decision-making.
When political competition lacks clarity, it risks becoming performative-full of noise, symbolism, and spectacle, but empty of substance. In such an environment, accountability weakens, and democracy begins to lose its meaning.
The Nepali campaign reality: Loud, vague, and personal
Recent election cycles in Nepal reveal consistent patterns. Campaigns are dominated by slogans rather than solutions. Phrases like "prosperous Nepal," "change for all," and "social justice" are repeated endlessly, yet rarely defined. What kind of prosperity? For whom? Through what means? These questions often remain unanswered.
Campaign narratives also revolve heavily around individuals. Leaders are projected as saviors, reformers, or strong figures, while policies take a back seat. Supporters rally around charisma and identity rather than programmatic differences. This personalization of politics may generate enthusiasm, but it weakens institutional thinking and long-term planning.
On major national issues-such as the implementation of federalism, economic reform, youth unemployment, migration, investment, and social inclusion-party positions are often broad and non-committal. "We will do better" becomes the default promise. Meanwhile, identity symbols are selectively deployed: regional pride, ethnic references, or nationalist language is invoked without being tied to concrete governance strategies.
These patterns are not accidental. In a fragmented political environment, vague promises reduce political risk. Complex reforms are difficult to explain and easier to avoid. Emotional messaging travels faster than policy discussions, especially in the age of social media. But what is politically convenient is not necessarily democratically responsible.
Loyalty to citizens: A question of responsibility
Political loyalty is often spoken of as allegiance to ideology, party, or nation. But in a democracy, loyalty begins with responsibility toward citizens.
This responsibility demands transparency-telling people what you plan to do and how. It requires responsiveness-addressing real problems such as jobs, education, health care, inflation, and infrastructure. It requires accountability-standing by commitments and accepting consequences for failure. It also requires inclusivity-ensuring diverse voices are reflected in political priorities.
Campaigning without a clear agenda undermines all of these principles. Citizens are asked to vote without knowing what they are endorsing. Choices are reduced to symbols and personalities. Democracy becomes an emotional exercise rather than a rational one. In such circumstances, voters are not empowered participants; they are passive spectators.
Loyalty to the state: Beyond rhetoric
Loyalty to the state goes beyond invoking national pride. It involves respect for constitutional frameworks, commitment to institutional strength, and concern for long-term stability. States are not sustained by slogans; they are sustained by policies, institutions, and trust.
When political campaigns lack clarity, governance becomes uncertain. Governments formed without clear mandates struggle to deliver coherent policy. Decisions become reactive rather than strategic. Institutions weaken as leadership changes frequently and unpredictably. Over time, public trust erodes-not because democracy has failed, but because it has been poorly practiced.
National identity pushed to the margins
Nepal's national identity is complex and plural. The constitution envisions an inclusive, federal, secular republic that accommodates diversity while maintaining unity. Yet debates over federal boundaries, citizenship rights, language recognition, and representation remain unresolved and emotionally charged.
When political parties avoid these debates in their agendas, they do not disappear. Instead, they resurface in distorted forms. Identity politics is then used symbolically-invoking pride or fear without addressing structural issues of inclusion and equity. This creates space for polarization and misinformation.
Ignoring national identity in policy discussions does not preserve unity; it weakens it. A shared national vision cannot be built on silence or ambiguity.
Where this path leads
The consequences of agenda-less politics are not abstract. Over time, they manifest in tangible ways. Democratic debate becomes shallow. Policy continuity breaks down. Citizens grow cynical, believing that elections change faces but not realities. Institutions lose credibility. Structural reforms are endlessly postponed.
Perhaps most dangerously, vague nationalism can be weaponized. When identity is reduced to slogans rather than shared commitments, social divisions deepen. In a federal system like Nepal's, where balance and cooperation are essential, this risk is especially high.
Why parties avoid clarity
There are reasons parties shy away from clear agendas. Concrete promises invite scrutiny. Coalition politics complicates unified platforms. Policy expertise is uneven. Patronage networks thrive in ambiguity. Media environments reward simplicity over depth.
Yet these explanations do not justify the outcome. They reveal weaknesses in democratic practice that must be confronted rather than normalized.
What citizens deserve-and must demand
Nepali citizens deserve more than emotionally satisfying speeches. They deserve clear, written, and measurable policy platforms. They deserve participation in agenda-setting, not just mobilization during elections. They deserve public debates centered on substance, not spectacle.
Restoring accountability requires effort from all sides: parties must invest in policy capacity; the Election Commission must encourage transparency; media must prioritize analysis over sensationalism; civil society must demand clarity; and citizens must ask harder questions.
Conclusion: Choosing substance over spectacle
Political loyalty cannot be measured by how loudly parties campaign or how passionately they invoke national symbols. It is measured by clarity of purpose, responsibility toward citizens, respect for institutions, and commitment to long-term national interests.
When parties campaign without clear agendas, democracy is reduced to noise. Citizens become audiences rather than decision-makers. National identity becomes a prop rather than a shared project. Nepal's democratic experiment is still young, but its success depends on whether politics moves toward ideas rather than individuals, policies rather than platitudes, and accountability rather than ambiguity.
Nepalis deserve more than slogans. They deserve clarity. And only through clarity can political loyalty-to both citizens and the state-be truly demonstrated.
The author, Sharma, is a political analyst and an educational activist.
