Successful diplomacy often begins when countries stop viewing disputes as contests of political pride and start treating them as problems requiring technical solutions
Few issues evoke stronger emotions in Nepal than questions of sovereignty and territory. The disputes surrounding Kalapani, Lipulekh, and Limpiyadhura are not merely matters of cartography; they are deeply connected to national identity, historical memory, and the principle of territorial integrity. It is therefore not surprising that Prime Minister Balen Shah's recent remarks on the Nepal-India border dispute triggered a wave of criticism, debate, and political controversy.
Many critics interpreted his statement – that Nepal also faces situations where land occupation issues exist on both sides of the border – as an unnecessary concession that weakens Nepal's position. Others viewed his reference to diplomacy, historians, surveyors, and technical experts as evidence of a more pragmatic approach to a problem that has remained unresolved for decades.
While reasonable people may disagree, there is a compelling case that Balen's remarks should be understood not as a retreat from Nepal's territorial claims but as an attempt to create a diplomatic pathway towards their resolution.
The challenge in any border dispute is that domestic politics often rewards uncompromising rhetoric while international diplomacy rewards practical solutions. Successful settlements almost always emerge through negotiation, historical research, technical surveys, and sustained diplomatic engagement. Viewed through this lens, the PM's remarks may represent an effort to shift the conversation from accusation to resolution.
One of the most significant aspects of his statement was the implicit recognition that border management issues are often more complicated than political narratives suggest. The Nepal-India border is one of the most open international borders in the world. In many places, encroachments, cultivation disputes, shifting river boundaries, and disagreements over interpretation of historical records are not unusual.
Acknowledging these complexities does not mean surrendering Nepal's claims regarding Kalapani, Lipulekh, or Limpiyadhura. Rather, it recognises that practical border management and territorial disputes are related but distinct issues. This distinction is important because diplomacy functions most effectively when both parties believe they are participating in a process of fact-finding rather than political point-scoring. By suggesting that issues exist on both sides of the border, Nepal can potentially present itself as a country seeking a comprehensive and evidence-based settlement rather than a purely adversarial confrontation.
History offers a sobering lesson: no serious border dispute has ever been resolved through slogans alone. India and Bangladesh took nearly 68 years to settle the complex enclave problem created by partition. Russia and China spent more than four decades negotiating a border dispute that had once brought them to the brink of war. Norway and Russia required almost 40 years to resolve competing claims in the resource-rich Barents Sea.
None of the parties abandoned their national interests. But they also recognised a fundamental reality: unresolved disputes are not settled by repeating claims; they are settled by proving them, negotiating them, and ultimately reaching an agreement that both sides can sustain.
Thus, if countries as different as India and Bangladesh, China and Russia, and Norway and Russia could spend decades at the negotiating table to resolve complex territorial disputes, there is nothing unpatriotic about believing that diplomacy, evidence, and dialogue remain Nepal's strongest tools as well.
Patriotism is not measured by the volume of one's demands. It is measured by the ability to secure national interests through results. These examples illustrate an important lesson: successful diplomacy often begins when countries stop viewing disputes as contests of political pride and start treating them as problems requiring technical solutions.
This is perhaps why Balen emphasised the role of historians, surveyors, and experts. Maps, treaties, survey records, historical documents, and geographic analysis carry greater weight in negotiations than political speeches.
His comments regarding the United Kingdom should also be understood in this context. Much of South Asia's modern border architecture emerged during the era of British India. Historical maps, administrative records, and survey documents held in British archives can contribute valuable information to understanding the origins of present-day disputes. Whether the UK should play any formal diplomatic role is debatable, and many would argue that Nepal and India should resolve the matter bilaterally. However, consulting historical archives is entirely consistent with a research-driven approach to dispute resolution.
None of this means the criticism directed at Balen is entirely without merit. Sovereignty issues are politically sensitive, and public statements by national leaders are scrutinised carefully. Critics worry that acknowledging any form of occupation on Nepal's side could be interpreted internationally as a weakening of Nepal's claims. They fear that such remarks may be selectively quoted or misrepresented in future discussions. These concerns deserve consideration.
Yet there is also a danger in rejecting any discussion of complexity. The central question is therefore not whether Balen's comments were politically risky. They clearly were. The more important question is whether they reflect a broader strategy aimed at reopening dialogue and advancing a settlement process that has remained stalled for years. If his objective is to create space for evidence-based negotiations, encourage technical engagement, and move discussions beyond nationalist posturing, then his remarks may ultimately be remembered not as a concession but as an attempt to break a diplomatic deadlock.