Kathmandu: As Nepal descended into political chaos over the past week, one institution remained intact—the Nepalese Army. It is no longer just a respected fighting force, but a key actor in guiding Nepal through its most serious political crisis in decades.
Sparked by youth-led protests over corruption and economic collapse, the country’s political system unraveled in just 48 hours on 10 September.
The prime minister fled, several ministers resigned, and the president disappeared from public view. Soon after, protesters set fire to Parliament, the Supreme Court, and the homes of five former prime ministers. The nation was almost on the edge of anarchy, with no clear leadership in sight.
Then, late that night, Nepal Army chief General Ashok Raj Sigdel, appeared in a short video message urging calm.
In a matter of few hours, troops had taken control of the streets in Kathmandu, and the violence began to subside.
With political structure broken and rage and confusion reigning in the Himalayan country, senior military officers quietly started meeting different factions of the Gen Z protesters to chart the way forward.
Very soon, the Nepal Army and not the president emerged as the primary mediator, guiding high-level negotiations between Gen Z protest leaders and fractured political factions to forge a path forward.
With the Parliament dissolved and the civilian government in disarray, Army Headquarters became the de facto negotiation table, where tense, marathon talks were held behind closed doors.
There were also tense moments during the talks, but the the army held sway. Among those the Army helped bring to consensus was former Chief Justice Sushila Karki, who eventually emerged as the leading candidate for interim prime minister.
The Gen Z-led movement, later transitioning into a political force, made its position clear—immediate resignation of the Oli government, resignation of all provincial ministers, uncompromising prosecution of those responsible for protest-related shootings, and the formation of a youth-led interim government focused on transparency and accountability.
The Nepal Army engaged directly with the President to ensure that constitutional norms were respected, even in the absence of a sitting government. Gen Sigdel led this balancing act, aiming to de-escalate tensions while enabling the start of a transitional political process.
The Nepal Army’s action drew praise from protesters. Activist group Hami Nepal, representing many in the Gen Z movement, issued a statement praising the Army’s conduct once the oath-taking ceremony was done: “On behalf of all Nepalese, we extend our heartfelt thanks to the Nepalese Army and Commander Ashok Raj Sigdel for his endless support, dedication, and patriotic service. The Army stood as a point of restraint and courage, rescuing the country in one of its most difficult times. We will always remain indebted.”
According to Major General Binoj Basnyat, who retired from the Nepalese Army in 2016, the Army stood apart as the most trusted and respected institution in the country, even as others were mired in politics and corruption.
“With politics fragmented, legitimacy eroding, and law enforcement losing credibility under the weight of public anger, only the Army retained the organisational discipline and moral authority to act. Its role was two-fold: To serve as a peacekeeper by preventing protests from spiraling into violent anarchy, and to act as a constitutional guardian by averting a dangerous power vacuum,” he told ThePrint.
According to the Asia Foundation’s 2022 survey, 91 percent of Nepalese have confidence in the Army—an extraordinary level of public trust at a time when faith in political parties and law enforcement was collapsing.
According to General Basnyat, at this critical juncture, the Army’s intervention was indispensable.
The Army’s presence reassured citizens that the rule of law had not broken down completely, while giving political leaders the breathing space to pursue dialogue rather than confrontation. It projected stability not only on the streets of Nepal but also to the wider international community watching closely for signs of collapse.
“In essence, the Army did not step in to usurp power but to preserve the constitutional framework until elected leadership could reassert control. Without this stabilising role, the Generation Z uprising—already spreading across all 77 districts and straining the state’s capacity—might well have escalated into a full-blown constitutional crisis,” he added.
Former Brigadier General Suresh Baniya, an NDA and NDC alumni, who commanded troops during Nepal’s civil war, agreed.
Historically, the Nepalese Army has maintained a posture of constitutional neutrality, avoiding overt political entanglement even during moments of upheaval. This shift from passive guardian to active peace maker marks a significant moment. The Army with dual roles—security, mediation and statecraft—suggests a recalibration of its traditional boundaries, he said.
“With Prime Minister Oli’s resignation and the collapse of the ruling coalition, Nepal faces a political vacuum. In this situation, the Army has emerged as a stabilising force but not a governing one. The Army’s role here is not to lead, but to ensure that the transition is peaceful, constitutional, and inclusive,” Baniya added.
Without declaring martial law or suspending civil liberties, the Army quietly carried out a series of stabilisation tasks: Recapturing escaped prisoners, recovering looted weapons, reopening key infrastructure including the Tribhuvan International Airport, and restoring order to the capital within days.
“We did not fire. We did not take power. But we helped the state stand back up,” Baniya said.
However, there were questions and concerns: Why did the Army not deploy earlier?
“We cannot move out without legal authority,” Baniya said. “Even when our own barracks were attacked in the past, we waited for orders. That’s the law.”
Nepal’s constitution prohibits independent military deployment. Under the Local Administration Act, the armed forces may only act when civilian channels—police and paramilitary forces—are overwhelmed, and with formal approval from the National Security Council and the President.
What makes the Army’s restraint during this week’s domestic unrest so striking is its historical role: As a royal force, it once answered solely to the king, even after Nepal’s transition to multiparty democracy in 1990. During the decade-long civil war from 1996 to 2006, Nepalese soldiers remained loyal not to the people, but to the crown in Kathmandu.
“There was no directive, no leadership. The Prime Minister had resigned. The President was missing. The chain of command was broken,” he said. “We were alone—but bound by law.”
With the fall of the Oli government and the rise of an interim administration led by former Chief Justice Sushila Karki, hopes for reform have reemerged, cautiously.
“The Prime Minister is a fair person,” Baniya said. “She’s clean. The cabinet is more neutral, more capable. But six months to elections? That’s not realistic. Maybe a year, if they work day and night.”
Still, they acknowledged a rare window of opportunity. “This is the best team we’ve had in a while. But the public is watching. They want results.”
In a region where militaries have often usurped civilian power—Pakistan, Myanmar, even Bangladesh—Nepal’s army has maintained a reputation for professional restraint. Both veterans rejected comparisons to “deep state” dynamics elsewhere.
“Nepal is not Pakistan,” said Baniya. “We are under civilian command. We don’t intervene in politics. We are the hard power of the nation, but we understand soft power. This is a thinking military.”
That ethos of restraint, they argue, is strategic, not passive.
“A soldier can have 100 rounds in his rifle and still hold fire,” he added. “If protesters are unarmed, not combatants, we do not shoot. That’s not cowardice, it’s discipline.”
The army, they stressed, is not a blunt instrument but a stabilising force of last resort.
“We’re watchers,” Baniya said. “We’re here to keep the house from burning, but not to take it over.”
What lies ahead
According to Basnyet, General Ashok Raj Sigdel faced three defining challenges from the very first day of the protests. First, he had to maintain stability within the framework of law and constitutional authority. Second, he was called upon to assist President Ram Chandra Paudel in opening channels of negotiation with the agitating groups, steering the crisis toward political dialogue. Third, and most critically, he was tasked with safeguarding the constitution at a moment when institutions were under severe strain.
In such circumstances, he argued that the Army Chief’s role became not only operational but symbolic—providing reassurance that the state would not collapse under political paralysis, while signalling to both citizens and the international community that the military remained committed to constitutionalism and restraint.
Amid the critique of the delay in deployment, much has been made of the portrait of King Prithvi Narayan Shah, the founder of the Nepalese Army, seen behind the Army Chief during his address. But its presence is neither new nor unusual, both officers asserted that it’s a standard feature in all Army offices and part of a long-standing institutional tradition.
Basnyet said that the speculation surrounding the portrait has largely been fuelled by conspiracy theories and political narratives suggesting a possible return to monarchy. In truth, the Army’s stance remains firmly grounded in constitutional principles, not in any desire to revive past forms of rule.
Neither officer attributed the uprising to foreign interference, despite speculation in some political circles.
“There is no American hand here. No Chinese conspiracy. No Indian manipulation,” Baniya asserted. “This is pure, pent-up youth anger. They’ve been robbed of a future.” The tipping point, they believe, wasn’t just censorship or even unemployment, but a profound moral rupture.
“When the public sees ministers hoarding cash, when children ask why their schools have no benches, how can anyone stay silent?” Baniya argued.
He described a slow erosion of Nepal’s once-vibrant middle class. “We used to be 80% middle class. Now, people are either very rich or very poor. Democracy was supposed to empower us, not be looted by us.”
(Edited by Viny Mishra)
Also read: Why Nepal’s elderly watched from the sidelines as Gen Z took on political class, toppled Oli govt