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By Our Political Analyst

Rastriya Prajatantra Party (RPP) chair Rajendra Lingden’s call for a new understanding between the King, political parties, and Gen Z came with a growing discomfort that many in Nepal sense but few say openly. His remarks reflected a belief that real decision making has slowly slipped away from Kathmandu. When Lingden spoke of foreign influence shaping ministerial choices, alliances, and political timing, he was saying aloud what many leaders privately admit. Power struggles inside parties have grown so intense that outside interests find easy entry points. The political turbulence seen around Bhadra 23 and 24 made that weakness visible to everyone.

Nepal’s location makes this even harder to ignore. The country sits between powerful neighbours and remains under constant external attention. When governments change frequently and coalitions survive on fragile deals, space opens up for others to play a role. Leaders stay busy protecting their positions instead of focusing on policy. Over time, this has damaged public trust. In that atmosphere, the monarchy has returned to public debate, not as a memory to romanticize but as a symbol many believe once helped hold the state together during uncertain times.

Lingden’s emphasis on Gen Z shows that he understands where politics has failed most clearly. Young people feel cut off from old party rivalries. Many see politics as distant, self-serving, and closed to fresh voices. Their concerns are simple and direct. Jobs are hard to find. Living costs keep rising. Migration feels like the only option. Lingden seems to recognize that without bringing this generation into any serious national discussion, no political change will last. By placing Gen Z alongside the King and political parties, he frames the monarchy as part of a future arrangement, not a step backward.

His rejection of a referendum on restoring monarchy also carries meaning. Lingden appears to believe the issue is too complex to be settled by a vote shaped by emotion, money, or short-term anger. He argues that without fixing the system first, elections only repeat the same instability. His approach is to build agreement among key forces, decide what kind of framework serves the nation, and then return to the public with clarity. In his thinking, the country must come first, before party interest or personal ambition.

This confidence also draws strength from a changing public mood. Disappointment with the republic’s performance is no longer limited to political margins. It shows up in everyday talk, online discussions, and civil society meetings. When the palace was left behind, people were promised stability, opportunity, clean governance, and respect for national interest. Many now feel those promises remain unfulfilled. Federalism has raised costs without clear gains for citizens. Secularism still feels abstract at the local level. Governance often feels farther away than before.

Whether a new understanding can actually take shape depends on political maturity. Some parties remain defensive, fearing that any discussion on monarchy weakens their position. Others quietly admit that a neutral institution above party conflict could help restore balance. For the King, the test lies in remaining above daily politics and earning trust across age groups. For Gen Z, sentiment matters less than results. They will support any system that gives them fair chances, work, and a voice.

If dialogue moves forward with restraint and honesty, room exists for a constitutional setup where monarchy and democracy stand together in service of national interest. That would require clear limits on power, protection of rights, and reassurance to political parties. Neighbouring countries would watch closely, as stability in Nepal serves broader regional interest. Lingden’s remarks suggest the debate has reached a serious stage. The question now is whether Nepal chooses consensus before divisions harden further.