Spread the love

By Our Reporter

The constituency of Jhapa 5 has become the key battleground of this election season. The election here is being treated like a national referendum. The reason is simple. KP Sharma Oli versus Balen Shah is not just a local contest. It has been framed as a clash over who gets to shape Nepal’s next political phase. The international community is also watching owing to the popularity of both leaders and their stature in our politics.

Oli enters the race with history on his side. Since 1991, barring the 2008 Constituent Assembly election, Jhapa has remained his fortress. He knows the ground, the networks, and the psychology of local voters. As CPN-UML chair, he enjoys another advantage. He does not strictly need to win. Even if he loses Jhapa 5, he can still remain a power broker at the center. Yet defeat here would hurt in a different way. Losing to a newcomer on home turf would puncture the image of invincibility he has carefully built over decades.

For Balen, the stakes are harsher. This is not about avoiding loss. It is about survival. After his term as Kathmandu mayor, this election is his test of relevance beyond the capital and beyond social media applause. A loss in Jhapa 5 would leave him exposed, without an institutional base to fall back on. That explains why his decision to challenge Oli here is seen as bold by supporters and reckless by critics.

The contest has been packaged as old versus new, insider versus outsider, experience versus disruption. That framing helps both men. Oli presents himself as the seasoned fighter who has seen off every challenger. Balen sells the image of the disruptor who dares to enter the lion’s den. The danger is that this drama overshadows substance. Jhapa 5 is being treated as if it will directly decide the prime minister, which it will not. Becoming an MP does not translate into leading the government unless one controls numbers in Parliament.

Strategically, Oli’s risk is limited. Even a narrow loss would still allow him to influence coalition talks. Balen’s risk is absolute. That raises uncomfortable questions. Why Jhapa 5? He had safer options in Kathmandu or his home district Mahottari. Choosing Oli’s backyard suggests a high risk, high return calculation. If he wins, he becomes a national phenomenon overnight. If he loses, the fall is steep.

Speculation has filled that gap. Some argue this is an internal play by Rabi Lamichhane, pushing Balen into a difficult seat to avoid future rivalry inside RSP. Others see foreign hands, or a personal grudge, especially after Oli accused Balen of links to last September’s unrest. None of this has been proven. What is clear is that Balen appears to be running a personalized campaign, with his party often invisible in the background.

Another layer is generational emotion. Youth anger toward traditional leaders runs deep. Oli represents the system many blame for stagnation. Balen embodies protest politics. Yet protest votes do not always convert in a rural, hill dominated constituency like Jhapa 5, where party loyalty and local organization still matter.

The most worrying aspect is tone. Online attacks, sharp rhetoric, and early scuffles during nomination hint at how easily this contest could slide into violence. When two leaders turn a constituency into a prestige battle, their supporters tend to mirror that aggression.

Jhapa 5 matters, but not for the reasons being shouted the loudest. It will not crown a prime minister. It will, however, show how far spectacle has replaced debate in Nepali elections. If Oli wins, it reinforces the power of organization over personality. If Balen pulls it off, it signals a real shift in voter behavior. Either way, the cost of turning this race into a do or die fight may be paid not by the candidates, but by the democratic process itself.