The asset disclosure by the federal government has created an uproar that is still reverberating across the country.
In a way, it is normal and natural that there is discussion over the enormous wealth of several ministers. After all, in a vibrant democracy like Nepal’s, citizens have the right and the agency to discuss, debate, and even question those in power.
But the vast majority of commentaries so far have missed the point. While some astonishment about what the asset declarations have revealed is justified, why are citizens surprised that ministers are wealthy? The country has long been characterised by a high level of inequality. This is not a new story, but something deeply ingrained in the nation’s history.
The real issue is not the level of wealth displayed by members of the federal government, but how long it will take for “ordinary” people to have a chance to reach these levels of power. At present, sadly, it is almost unthinkable for members of historically disadvantaged groups to imagine such a path.
I recently heard an expression that roughly translates into English as: “You do not do politics in sandals.” The message is clear: joining politics is a luxury that only a certain category of citizens can afford. Simplicity—often associated with low income and poverty—does not take one far.
Participation in public life as a politician remains restricted, where income, property, and shares often pave the way to elected office. Even before the disclosure of ministers’ assets, it was widely understood that contesting elections requires enormous wealth. There have always been speculations about its sources, with a general perception that much of it may be “dirty.”
In the last election, campaigning remained expensive. However, there is some confidence that most elected officials did not engage in old practices such as vote-buying.
Revised interest rate corridor system introduced
Now, as the initial shock over ministers’ wealth subsides, the public must ask a different set of questions: What will it take to change the status quo so that entering politics is not predetermined by wealth and status?
In his weekly column in The Kathmandu Post, Deepak Thapa aptly described what may be called the “inequity conundrum” of Nepal’s politics:
“If personal wealth is a proxy for success in life, the cabinet appears to be a club of the accomplished. The concern is that such a group may begin to believe individual effort is the sole virtue—an idea reinforced by remarks from Home Minister Gurung.”
He further writes:
“The next logical step would be to overlook the structural constraints facing most Nepalis, leading to inequities based on class, gender, caste/ethnicity, language, religion, region, or physical and mental ability. That is where our focus should lie, rather than fruitlessly debating how much wealth politicians had before entering politics.”
What is needed now is a national conversation on making politics more inclusive and accessible. Politics should not remain an exclusive club of either corrupt politicians or privileged professionals enriched by historical advantages, including caste. Ideally, entering politics should be as accessible as possible.
This raises a critical question for those in power, who still largely represent historically dominant elites: What will it take to break the glass ceiling and make politics more open?
In the long term, only good governance can ensure that a child from marginalised communities such as the Chepang or Musahar has a fair chance in life—including in politics. This requires investment in healthcare and public education, as well as strong, inclusive policies.
However, such transformation demands resources that the federal government currently lacks. Strengthening the economy and building a more efficient and equitable tax system—such as taxing multiple property ownership—will be essential.
But these reforms will take time. Should the country wait that long to make politics more inclusive? If the government is genuinely committed to equity and social justice, the answer is clear: it should not.
So, what can be done now? A starting point could be a serious reflection on positive discrimination policies, often referred to as affirmative action.
In India, for instance, there is an ongoing debate about a 33 percent quota for women in the Lok Sabha and state assemblies. Discussions around reservations for Dalits remain sensitive, despite extensive legal frameworks. Yet there is evidence that well-designed affirmative policies can be transformative.
In Nepal, initiating such a debate could complement the government’s ongoing efforts to address historical injustices, particularly toward Dalit communities. The leadership could move swiftly to implement equity-driven policies.
However, given the complexity of addressing discrimination, a participatory approach may be more effective—one that engages both marginalised groups and historically privileged communities.
At the same time, affirmative action alone may not be sufficient. Politics must also be reimagined through the lens of deliberative democracy, where citizens actively participate in decision-making at local and national levels.
Deliberative processes can complement electoral systems, where voters typically delegate power to full-time politicians. Politics should not remain the exclusive domain of either corrupt actors or privileged technocrats whose success is shaped not only by merit but also by structural advantages.
The federal government has an opportunity to reinvent politics by placing equity and inclusion at its core. Fighting corruption and nepotism is essential—but it is only the beginning.
Opening up political space will require bold leadership, radical imagination, and sustained dialogue that confronts historical injustices.
