By Narayan Prasad Mishra

On August 7, 2024, I published an article titled “National Progress and the Retirement Age of Politicians” in People’s Review. In that article, I argued that the welfare of the people and the progress of a nation depend on active, honest, and energetic leadership. I also suggested that, like in other professions, there should be a mandatory retirement age in politics so that the younger generation can take responsibility for the country’s development. The recent awakening of Nepal’s young generation—popularly known as the Gen Z Movement—has made that argument even more relevant today.

In recent months, Nepal’s young people—many still in their early twenties—have courageously exposed the country’s decline, disorder, mismanagement, corruption, and the suffering of ordinary citizens that the older generation of leaders has long ignored.

This new generation, raised amid instability, corruption, and false promises, has shown that it is no longer willing to remain silent. They have risen not by waving party flags, but by carrying ideas, questions, and courage. For decades, they have watched the same elderly and exhausted leaders occupying the highest positions in their parties and in government. The youth are now asking: Why are these old and frail leaders still clinging to power? Why do civil servants, police, and soldiers retire at the age of 58 or 60, while politicians in their seventies or eighties continue to serve as party presidents or prime ministers? Such contradictions challenge both the morality and efficiency of Nepal’s governance system.

As I wrote earlier, knowledge, energy, and dynamism are essential for progress. Effective leadership requires the ability to work long hours, make timely and wise decisions, accept constructive advice, and adapt to changing times. These qualities are more often found in today’s younger generation—leaders who are technologically skilled, globally connected, and creative in their thinking. When politics becomes a resting place for older people rather than a platform for energetic visionaries, progress inevitably stalls. Nepal has become a striking example of this reality. Our development crawls at a tortoise’s pace, while political rhetoric races ahead at lightning speed.

History, however, has given us examples of self-aware and principled leaders. The late Ganesh Man Singh, the supreme leader of the Nepali Congress, declined King Birendra’s offer to become Prime Minister after the 1990 People’s Movement, citing his old age and health, and instead proposed his colleague Krishna Prasad Bhattarai for the position. That wise decision made him even greater in the eyes of history. Similarly, U.S. President Joe Biden, acknowledging his age and health concerns, decided not to seek re-election. These examples demonstrate responsibility and self-awareness in leadership—qualities sadly missing among Nepal’s current political elite.

Unfortunately, many senior Nepali politicians refuse to step down even when they are physically and mentally unfit to serve. Measured against the wisdom, dedication, vision, service, and sacrifice of elder statesmen in other nations, Nepal’s aging leaders—corrupt, greedy, and self-serving—are an embarrassment even to mention in the same context. Yet, to defend their reluctance to retire despite frail health and advancing age, they conveniently invoke the names of those truly distinguished leaders abroad. They have turned their political parties from democratic institutions into personal empires, blocking the rise of capable and energetic young leaders. As a result, public frustration is growing, both inside and outside political parties, and the Gen Z Movement has become a powerful voice against such stagnation.

This movement is not merely a protest—it is a symbol of hope. It challenges the old order of gerontocracy that has paralyzed Nepal’s democracy. Through social media, civic campaigns, and street activism, young Nepalis are demanding accountability, transparency, and generational transition. They are not against older people; they are against the outdated mindset that resists change and hinders progress.

Nepal must now introduce a mandatory retirement age—at least 65—for political leaders as well. No one beyond that age should serve as party president, general secretary, minister, or prime minister. Such reform would inject new ideas, innovation, and vitality into our politics while allowing senior leaders to serve as mentors and advisors. Experience and wisdom should guide, not govern. Institutionalizing this principle would accelerate our national development and restore public confidence in leadership.

The refusal to step aside is not a sign of service; it is a symptom of greed and attachment to power. True leadership means knowing when to serve and when to hand over responsibility. By introducing a political retirement age, Nepal can modernize its political culture and open doors for a new generation ready to confront the challenges of the 21st century—digital transformation, environmental crises, youth employment, and global competition.

The Gen Z Movement is not a revolt against the past; it is a demand for the future. It calls for leadership transition to be institutionalized through rules, not through pressure or persuasion. It also appeals to honest senior politicians to retire with dignity and offer justice to the youth by giving them an opportunity to lead. Just as a father willingly hands over the management of a family business to his son, party leaders, too, should be able to transfer leadership to younger successors.

Therefore, Nepal’s senior leaders should show true patriotism not by clinging to power, but by prioritizing the welfare of the nation and its people. They should guide the youth rather than block them. If this transformation does not happen in time, circumstances will inevitably force older leaders into undignified retirement. I hope that they will use their wisdom and conscience before that day arrives.

narayanshanti70@gmail.com.