Our mission is not to waste energy on peripheral debates, but to focus on the essentials: a functioning state, a moral foundation, and a society capable of self-respect
Recently, I was invited to join a group of highly respected individuals working to help shape Nepal's future. Even within this esteemed circle, discussions quickly became entangled in topics like religion, same-sex marriage, and leadership quality. Having witnessed the decline of states such as Somalia, South Sudan, Afghanistan, Iraq, and Syria firsthand, I feel deeply anxious.
In each of those countries, no one truly understood the scale of the crisis until it was too late. The problems seemed manageable at first - political disagreements, conflicting visions, and moral debates - but beneath the surface, the foundations were cracking. By the time people realised how bad the rot had become, the decline was already unstoppable.
I see faint echoes of that same confusion in Nepal. We are debating symptoms while ignoring the disease. Unless we urgently define what exactly we are trying to achieve and how we plan to do it, we may drift towards the same fate. This is not alarmism; it is a sober reading of history. The world is full of countries that once existed - and no longer do.
A glance at the world map shows us that countries and borders have always shifted in dramatic ways. Empires have risen and fallen; history's tide has wiped out kingdoms. Nepal is no exception to these natural patterns. It could survive, evolve, or even vanish.
But within that broad scope, certain debates divert us from what truly matters. Same-sex marriage, for instance, is not a question of statehood. Nor is religion. These are deeply personal choices, moral agreements between individuals and their conscience - or, for some, with the divine.
The government should not moralise about private lives. Its role is to protect rights, not to enforce morals. Religion becomes risky only when it encroaches on the private sphere and seeks political influence. Likewise, sexuality becomes controversial only when the state attempts to legislate love.
Foreign intervention is also not an unnatural occurrence; it is a predictable result when a society fails to govern itself. When a state collapses from within, the vacuum invites others to step in. This is how sovereignty erodes - not through conquest, but through incompetence.
So, the real question before us isn't about religion, morality, or foreign interference. It is: What exactly are we, as a society, trying to achieve?
Nepal today exists in a strange state of suspended animation - alive but inert. It can stay in this condition indefinitely, drifting through history as an unfinished project. Alternatively, it could decay into the chaos we've seen elsewhere - the slow-motion disintegration of a state. Or, hopefully, it can break free from this paralysis and finally become a normal, functioning country.
Our national agenda must therefore be simplified to its core: to build a functioning state where governance is predictable, rules are enforced, and institutions outlast individuals - to create a sustainable economic foundation, where productivity, not patronage, drives prosperity. Nothing else truly matters.
The rest - ideology, culture wars, and identity battles - are less critical. A functioning and fair state naturally allows for religious expression, human rights, and personal freedoms. But without a strong state and economy, all other debates turn into noise.
If we can accomplish these two goals, it will signify a historic change. Nepal has been in transition for 257 years - from unification to a republic, from monarchy to democracy - yet we have not fully embraced the essence of nationhood. We are not Gaza yet, but we are approaching the conditions that lead to such tragedies. The motivation, therefore, is not born from fear but from the understanding that we still have a small window to set things right.
Leadership has become the default scapegoat for everything that goes wrong in Nepal. The familiar refrain is: "Our politicians are corrupt; our rulers are greedy." True enough - but that only tells part of the story.
The more disturbing truth is that our leaders mirror us - our society, our values, our choices. We have made corruption so normal that it now shapes our social behaviour. From the smallest deal to the most significant contract, deception and opportunism are part of our everyday lives.
This is not just political corruption; it is a decline of civilisation. We have raised generations who view honesty as naivety and manipulation as insight. We reward cleverness over skill, flattery over achievement. It has become part of our collective "Sanskar" - a learned instinct passed down from one generation to the next.
This is what makes reform so challenging. You can't legislate morality. You need to rework your mindset.
Singapore in 1965 provides a meaningful example - not because we can imitate it, but because it demonstrates what moral clarity and disciplined governance can accomplish. At independence, Singapore was poor, divided, and corrupt. Lee Kuan Yew's brilliance was not only in policy but also in understanding people. He redefined what it meant to be a citizen.
He enforced discipline before democracy - emphasising that responsibility comes before rights. He established institutions that prioritised competence over connections. Meritocracy, multiracialism, and zero tolerance for corruption became sacred principles. In just over a generation, Singapore transformed from chaos to global success.
Nepal may need a similar phase of focussed, disciplined governance - not dictatorship, but a firm hand guided by moral purpose. A government that prioritises results over rhetoric, institutions over individuals, and service over symbolism.
To accomplish this, we must start with civic transformation. Ethics should be taught not as philosophy but as practical application - in schools, public service, and media. Accountability must be fostered not as punishment, but as a cultural norm. We need a generation that takes pride in paying taxes, obeying traffic laws, and earning honestly. These may seem like minor acts, but they are the building blocks of civilization. For about 20 years, Nepal may need to focus on discipline rather than populism - to restore habits of honesty, merit, and service. If not, the next 257 years will repeat the same tragic cycle: new leaders, the same decay.
So, what must we do? First, define our national goal in one sentence: To build a functioning, fair, and self-reliant state. Every policy, every debate, and every reform must be evaluated against that purpose.
Second, demand accountability not only from leaders but from ourselves. Change cannot flow from corrupt citizens to honest rulers; it must flow the other way around. The citizen who pays a bribe and the politician who accepts it are products of the same moral collapse.
Third, we need to reshape our education system. We focus on teaching our children arithmetic and grammar, but overlook ethics and citizenship. They grow up knowing how to ace exams, not how to build communities. Our universities produce job seekers instead of nation builders. Without fixing this foundation, genuine leadership renewal will stay out of reach.
Fourth, we need to promote a new moral story - one that values service, integrity, and excellence. In today's Nepal, the corrupt hold power while the honest are naive. That needs to change. The moral ranking must shift before the political one can.
Nepal still stands at the right side of history - but only just. The choice before us is stark: remain in suspended animation, drift towards disintegration, or rise into renewal. Our mission is not to waste energy on peripheral debates, but to focus on the essentials: a functioning state, a moral foundation, and a society capable of self-respect. If we can accomplish even that, Nepal will not only survive - it will, for the first time in its long, turbulent history, truly begin.
Pandey is former UNHCR Representative
