Pokhara's so called international airport has now confirmed what many Nepalis quietly suspected for years. It was never about connecting Nepal to the world; it was about connecting a Chinese state owned contractor to a captured political class. The fact that fifty five officials and a major Chinese company are now facing prosecution is not a surprise; it is an overdue confession. Pokhara airport's story shows how "development" can facilitate plundering a poor country.
This pattern is not unique to Nepal, nor is it an accident. Chinese infrastructure finance around the world has relied heavily on a familiar playbook: government to government deals shielded from scrutiny, tied loans that guarantee work for Chinese firms, and turnkey contracts that lock recipients into long term dependence for maintenance, spare parts, and technical services. On paper, it looks like generous support from a rising power. In practice, it is vendor finance dressed up as a strategic partnership. The main winners are Chinese state owned enterprises and the local political and business elites who clip their share of the pie along the way.
The much-celebrated public private partnership (PPP) model fits neatly into this story. For years, institutions such as the World Bank and the IMF have sold PPPs as modern, efficient ways to close the infrastructure gap without overburdening public budgets. The language is soothing. Risks are said to be "shared", private capital is supposed to bring discipline and innovation, and governments are told that off balance sheet commitments are a smart way to manage fiscal constraints. In countries with high capacity and tight oversight, some PPPs do work. In countries like Nepal, this model is an engraved invitation to abuse.
PPPs are intentionally complex, allowing contingent liabilities to be hidden, overpriced contracts to be disguised, and citizens to be committed to long-term payments without public debate. The PPP label does not guarantee integrity; it simply bestows a technocratic appearance.
Nepal's institutions have been carefully wired to leak. Oversight bodies are underfunded, politicised, and often used as weapons against opponents rather than as impartial guardians of the public interest. Senior bureaucrats owe their appointments to party bosses, not to merit or performance. Committees and commissions are routinely stocked with people who will produce the "right" recommendation, especially on large projects where billions of rupees and future rents are at stake. When such a system sits across the table from a sophisticated foreign contractor backed by a powerful state and cheap credit, it is clear who will dominate the negotiation.
The international financial institutions are not innocent bystanders in this picture. The World Bank and IMF have spent years pushing PPPs, fiscal consolidation, and "reform" packages that sound rigorous but often ignore the realities of local power. Both institutions have also been remarkably relaxed about the quality of some of the people they send to countries like Nepal. The IMF, in particular, has a record of parachuting in resident representatives who neither understand the political economy nor show much curiosity about it, yet wield outsized influence over policy choices.
This matters because technical advice is never just technical in a weak state. When external institutions promote complex PPP frameworks and public investment rules without credible safeguards, they provide local elites with tools to perpetuate established practices. Worse, by ignoring dubious projects signed in the name of growth, they grant borrowed legitimacy to those deals.
Pokhara should be treated as a closing chapter in a bad era, not as a template for the next big deal. Nepal needs a very different approach to engaging with China and other large financiers. First, any major project financed from abroad should be preceded by an independent feasibility and value for money study commissioned by Parliament, not by the line ministry that wants the project. Those studies should be public. Shining a light at the start is far cheaper than paying for commissions and prosecutions at the end.
Second, tied financing should be considered high risk. If a loan allows only companies from the lending country to bid, Nepal should assume inflated pricing and serious governance risks. Exceptions should be rare, openly debated, and approved by Parliament. In dealings with China, Nepal should insist on genuinely open tenders and reserving some share of technology and procurement for domestic interests.
Third, Nepal urgently needs an independent, technically strong infrastructure and PPP regulator, shielded from routine political interference. This body should screen major contracts, stress-test fiscal risks, oversee renegotiations, and publish a clear annual report on fiscal obligations. The World Bank and IMF should focus on supporting this institutional backbone, not repeating slogans about private capital mobilisation.
Fourth, accountability must be genuine. If ministers, secretaries, or contractors are implicated in wrongdoing, they should face swift, fair trials. Foreign firms that bribe officials or rig bids must be blacklisted. China cannot claim responsibility in Nepal while tolerating misconduct by its firms abroad. Nepal should require Beijing's cooperation in investigations and asset recovery for future large projects.
Nepal needs the confidence to say no. Not every flashy airport, hydropower dam, or expressway is worth the loss of fiscal space, environmental damage, or diplomatic entanglement. For a country that struggles with basic public services, there is no obligation to build white elephants to serve politicians' or foreign partners' egos.
Prof C.K. Peela is a geopolitical and security expert on South Asia and the Asia Pacific.