By Inderjit Badhwar
Every so often, an upheaval in a neighbouring country forces us to re-examine our own assumptions about politics, diplomacy, and the fragile balance between proximity and sovereignty. The turmoil that engulfed Kathmandu this September is one such moment. Over four days, what began as youth-led protests against corruption and a temporary social media blackout spiralled into a convulsion of violence that shook the very foundations of Nepal’s democracy.
By mid-September, dozens were dead, thousands injured, and swathes of the capital lay in ruins. Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli resigned, making way for the appointment of former Chief Justice Sushila Karki as interim prime minister—an unprecedented elevation that symbolises both the desperation and the promise of this fragile transition. Elections are now scheduled for March 5, 2026. The road to that date will determine not only Nepal’s future, but also India’s role in shaping the destiny of South Asia.
WHY NEPAL MATTERS TO INDIA
To many outside observers, Nepal may appear small, landlocked, and peripheral. For India, it is anything, but. The two nations are bound by geography, culture, and history. They share an open border that allows millions to move freely for work, trade, and family ties. Nepalese citizens serve in India’s armed forces; remittances flow both ways; and cross-border electricity and water cooperation shape the livelihoods of millions. Instability in Nepal inevitably spills over into India—whether through refugee flows, security anxieties, or economic disruption.
Yet, beyond these practical linkages lies something deeper: Nepal’s democratic journey has often mirrored and tested India’s own democratic instincts. When Nepal struggles with corruption, governance, or the balance of power between political elites and the people, it highlights dilemmas that resonate across South Asia. For India, therefore, the stakes are not only strategic, but also normative.
A GENERATIONAL RECKONING
What distinguishes the September unrest from earlier episodes of turbulence is the generational character of the protests. It was Nepal’s Gen Z—the smartphone generation, raised on social media, impatient with old patronage networks—who turned anger into mobilisation. The government’s decision to impose a social media blackout backfired spectacularly, fuelling the very protests it sought to suppress.
This generational revolt matters for India because it echoes sentiments visible in our own cities: frustration at corruption, distrust of entrenched elites, and a belief that democracy must mean more than voting once every few years. If India is perceived as indifferent—or worse, as siding with the old guard in Kathmandu—it risks alienating the very generation that will shape Nepal’s politics for decades.
THE CHINA FACTOR
No discussion of Nepal’s politics is complete without acknowledging Beijing’s shadow. Over the past decade, China has invested heavily in Nepalese infrastructure, courted political elites, and cultivated cultural diplomacy. Each episode of instability in Kathmandu is seen in New Delhi through this prism: will China use the vacuum to expand its influence?
This is a legitimate concern, but it must not dominate the frame. If India reduces Nepal to a pawn in its strategic contest with Beijing, it will repeat past mistakes. The protests of September were not about China or India; they were about corruption, dignity, and accountability. To engage effectively, New Delhi must privilege Nepali agency. Doing so strengthens its credibility, which in turn makes India the more attractive partner—even in the face of Chinese resources.
LESSONS FROM THE PAST
India’s relationship with Nepal has often been described, not always flatteringly, as that of an elder sibling. At times, New Delhi has leaned too heavily on its leverage—through trade blockades, overt political patronage, or public commentary that has been perceived as interference. Each misstep has fuelled nationalist resentment within Nepal, creating political space for anti-India sentiment and opening doors for Chinese influence.
The lesson from this history is clear: discretion is strength. Publicly, India must project solidarity and respect. Privately, it can encourage reform, offer technical assistance, and support credible elections. The more Nepalis see this moment as their own democratic reckoning rather than an externally engineered project, the stronger India’s position will be.
THE ROAD AHEAD
The interim prime minister, Sushila Karki, represents both an opportunity and a risk. As Nepal’s first woman prime minister and a former chief justice, she carries symbolic weight. But symbolism will not be enough. The March 2026 elections must be free, fair, and credible, or the cycle of unrest will continue. Here, India can play a constructive role—not by dictating outcomes, but by helping institutions: the election commission, judiciary, and civil society groups that monitor the process.
Equally vital is economic engagement. Nepal’s discontent is rooted as much in daily hardship as in political betrayal. For India to stabilise its neighbour, it must deliver visible, transparent economic benefits: market access for Nepali goods, energy partnerships that lower costs, cross-border infrastructure that creates jobs. If ordinary Nepalis feel tangible improvements in their lives, India’s partnership will speak louder than any speech or diplomatic communique.
WHY THIS STORY MATTERS
As journalists, we often search for stories that reveal more than themselves. Nepal’s September uprising is one such story. It is about a small country in turmoil, yes, but also about the fragility of democracy, the impatience of youth, and the responsibilities of regional powers. It asks India a profound question: can it support a neighbour’s democratic aspirations without imposing its own shadow?
The answer will shape not only the Himalayas, but also India’s identity in the world. Are we merely a regional hegemon guarding against rivals, or can we be a genuine partner in democratic resilience? The distinction is not academic—it will determine how millions across South Asia perceive India in the years to come.
Nepal’s unfinished revolution is thus a mirror and a test. It reflects the frustrations of a generation that demands dignity, transparency, and change. And it tests India’s ability to engage with wisdom rather than dominance. If New Delhi succeeds, it will not only safeguard its strategic interests, but also affirm the values that bind this region together. If it fails, the vacuum will be filled—by mistrust, by resentment, and by forces far less sympathetic to democratic aspirations.
This is why we put Nepal’s crisis on our cover. It is a story of violence and resilience, of fragile institutions and hard choices. But above all, it is a story of possibility—if India and Nepal together can turn a season of turmoil into a foundation for renewal.