If there's one thing Nepal's political class excels at, it's the art of missing the point-often with a confidence so misplaced it would be almost endearing, were it not so costly. The recent fiasco surrounding the World Health Organisation's South-East Asia Regional Director post is a case in point, a textbook example in how to snatch defeat from the jaws of opportunity.

Let's set the scene: the WHO's South-East Asia office, not exactly famed for its dazzling leadership or visionary management, found itself in need of a new Regional Director. Enter Dr. Shambhu Acharya, a Nepali nominee with a spotless record and decades of experience at every level of the WHO. He was, by all accounts, the sort of candidate who might have brought a measure of calm, competence, and-dare one say-integrity to an office that could do with all three. But this is Nepal, where political leaders, armed with little more than bravado and a chronic inability to read the room, managed to turn a golden opportunity into yet another cautionary tale.

Dr Acharya was, however, the sort of steady hand who could have steered the regional office away from the rocks of scandal, inertia and feudal raj nurtured over the years. Alas, Nepal's politicians, ever the connoisseurs of strategic dithering, couldn't quite bring themselves to offer timely, unequivocal support. Instead, they indulged in the kind of geopolitical calculations that make for lively debate but rarely translate into results. By the time they finally decided to back their nominee, Bangladesh had already launched a full-throttle campaign to install Saima Wazed-daughter of then Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina-at the helm.

Now, let's not pretend that international organisations are temples of meritocracy, far from it. Living testament are the many south Asians who have made it high up in UN organisations- all children, siblings or son in laws of those in power. But the saga of Wazed's appointment, reportedly buoyed by the full weight of India's Prime Minister Narendra Modi as part of his diplomatic courtship with Bangladesh, is an example of how nepotism and backroom deals can trump competence and integrity. The whispers of Wazed's questionable credentials and the allegations of mismanagement that have since surfaced were hardly secrets among those in the know. Yet, when push came to shove, it was political muscle-not merit-that carried the day.

Nepal's role in this farce is almost Shakespearean in its tragicomedy. Here was a chance to put forward a candidate who, while perhaps not destined for the history books, would at least have brought a measure of stability and credibility to a region in dire need of both. Instead, Nepal's leaders hesitated, prevaricated, and ultimately capitulated to the prevailing winds of regional power politics. The result? The region is left with a leadership vacuum, and Nepal is left nursing its bruised pride, wonderinghow it all went wrong-again.

It's tempting to chalk this up to bad luck or the vagaries of international diplomacy, but that would be letting Nepal's political class off far too lightly. The truth is, this episode is just the latest in a long line of missed opportunities, each one a testament to the perils of overconfidence unaccompanied by competence. Nepal's politicians are masters of the grand gesture, quick to proclaim their influence on the world stage, yet all too often blind to the actual mechanics of getting things done. They are, in short, better at talking about power than wielding it.

And so, while Dr. Acharya's candidacy fades into the background, what lingers is the stench of missed opportunity and the unmistakable whiff of nepotism and corruption. The WHO's South-East Asia office, responsible for the health and well-being of over two billion people, deserves leadership that is chosen for reasons other than family ties or political expediency. Instead, it finds itself mired in scandal, with a Regional Director placed on indefinite leave amid allegations of corruption and abuse of power-a situation that could have been avoided had merit, rather than manoeuvring, carried the day.

But why stop at the WHO? The rot of nepotism and corruption runs deep in international institutions, often masquerading as diplomacy or strategic alliance-building. It's a system that rewards connections over competence, where the right surname can open more doors than a lifetime of hard work. For countries like Nepal, the lesson should be painfully clear: playing the game half-heartedly, with one eye on local politics and the other on imagined global influence, is a recipe for irrelevance.

What's needed is not more bravado or empty rhetoric, but a fundamental shift in how Nepal approaches international engagement. That means backing candidates early, building genuine coalitions, and refusing to be cowed by the political machinations of larger neighbours. It means recognising that in a world where nepotism and corruption are all too common, the only antidote is a steadfast commitment to merit and transparency. Anything less is an invitation to be sidelined, again and again.

In the end, the story of Nepal's missed opportunity at the WHO is not just about one man's dashed hopes, but about a country's chronic inability to rise above its limitations. Until Nepal's leaders learn to match their confidence with action-and their ambition with integrity-the country will remain, at best, a footnote in the stories written by others. And as for the region's health? Well, let's just say the prognosis remains guarded, pending further developments.

Prof Peela is a South Asia and Pacific regional geopolitical and security expert