Dr. Janardan Subedi
The recent immigration scandal implicating Home Minister Ramesh Lekhak has not only shaken the current coalition government but also brought the moral and ideological decay of the Nepali Congress (NC) to the fore. Among the most disturbing aspects of this scandal is the role played by Dr. Shashank Koirala, the younger son of Nepal’s most revered democrat, B.P. Koirala. Rather than defending the democratic ideals of transparency and accountability, Shashank has chosen to shield the accused minister—despite calls from senior leaders like Dr. Shekhar Koirala, Dr. Sunil Sharma, and Rajendra Bajgain for Lekhak to resign to enable a free and fair investigation.
In a party meeting, while voices of conscience demanded that Home Minister Lekhak step down to prevent further erosion of public trust, Shashank remained disturbingly silent or worse, complicit. He instead echoed the position of Party President Sher Bahadur Deuba, who reportedly told Lekhak during the same meeting, “Pardaina, pardaina”—a direct refusal to entertain the possibility of resignation. Shashank even went so far as to argue that the minister had done “not a single inch of wrong,” placing himself not only on the wrong side of public morality but squarely against the conscience of the Nepali people.
A Disgrace to a Great Legacy
It is hard to overstate the symbolic weight of Shashank Koirala’s surname. As the son of B.P. Koirala—a man who sacrificed his life for democratic values, rule of law, and national dignity—Shashank’s actions represent not only a personal failure but a desecration of his father’s legacy. In fact, prominent voices within and outside the party now openly express this disillusionment. One such voice is Dr. Madhu Ghimire, a respected physician and die-hard confidant of the late B.P. Koirala. In a scathing critique, Ghimire asked: “Dr. Shashank! Why has your intellect become so corrupted? Before you take any steps, can’t you reflect on the souls of your father and uncle? Your younger uncle and Sher Bahadur Deuba have trampled their legacy—can’t you at least retain some sense of conscience? Couldn’t you at least consult with Prakash Da (your elder brother)?”
This is not mere rhetorical exaggeration; this is a plea born of heartbreak. Dr. Ghimire’s anguish reflects the frustration of many who once believed that B.P. Koirala’s lineage would preserve democratic values and stand against corruption. Instead, Shashank’s behavior signals that familial legacy now serves only as political capital, not as moral compass.
Institutional Rot and Double Standards
The scandal also brings into sharp relief the dual standards and institutional feudalism that characterize Nepal’s political culture. While independent political figure Rabi Lamichhane was swiftly targeted and legally cornered for his alleged involvement in the cooperatives scandal, the treatment of Ramesh Lekhak—despite far more direct accusations—has been markedly protective. This is not a mere coincidence; it reflects the systemic rot within mainstream political parties, especially the Nepali Congress, which has now devolved into a nexus of patronage and impunity.
Rather than welcoming calls for internal accountability, the party establishment responded by targeting the whistleblowers. In the recent central committee meeting, it was proposed that leaders like Shekhar Koirala, Sunil Sharma, and Rajendra Bajgain—who dared to ask for Lekhak’s resignation—be issued letters of clarification. When journalists pressed for clarification, Shashank Koirala shamelessly confirmed that he supported the idea. Thus, instead of defending the party’s ethical core, he advocated punishing those who sought truth and accountability.
Allegations of Corruption and Cronyism
The public anger against Shashank Koirala intensified after Rajendra Bajgain made serious allegations—not that Bajgain himself had offered bribes, but that others had provided Shashank with expensive “gifts” to curry political favor. According to Bajgain, these gifts included a Kia car, two Mahindra SUVs, a Rolex watch, duffel bags filled with cash, and financing for house renovation.
In his own words, Bajgain stated: “I didn’t want to raise questions about the Kia and two Mahindra SUVs, Rolex watches, duffel bags filled with cash, the so-called house renovation, or the trading of political positions. But remember, Dr. Shashank, you will have to answer for them.”
Even if these gifts were not directly tied to Bajgain, their existence—intended to manipulate Shashank’s political stance—represents bribery in essence. It reflects a deeper malaise: a system in which influence is bought and leaders, even those from once-principled families, become compromised instruments of power.
The Rogue of a Noble Legacy
To understand the depth of public disenchantment, one must return to the symbolism of the Koirala name. Prakash Koirala, Shashank’s elder brother, had once been accused of betraying the family legacy by siding with the monarchy during the Panchayat era. While controversial, even Prakash’s positions were framed within a larger national vision, however flawed. Shashank, by contrast, has no such ideological cover. His actions appear to be guided purely by political survival and personal benefit.
This degeneration of purpose has led some to make even harsher judgments. Whispers within the political circles allege that Shashank suffers from chronic alcoholism and cognitive decline. While these are difficult to verify, they underline how far his public image has eroded. Once seen as a quiet, academic figure, he is now perceived as a man lacking the mental and moral fitness to serve the party or the country.
A Call to Conscience
The situation is grave. When senior leaders with spotless reputations like Dr. Shekhar Koirala and Dr. Sunil Sharma are sidelined or reprimanded for standing with public sentiment, and figures like Shashank Koirala are celebrated or protected, we are witnessing the complete inversion of moral order within the party. This is not just a leadership crisis; it is an institutional and generational collapse.
The party that once prided itself on being the torchbearer of democracy now risks becoming a mafia-like organization, devoid of ideology, compassion, or vision. At such a moment, silence becomes complicity. It is therefore essential to speak—even if it may seem futile to those steeped in cynicism. As citizens, scholars, and believers in democratic values, we must document these wrongs for history and demand accountability while it is still possible.
The author—a student of social and political thought—acknowledges that speaking truth to power in Nepal today may appear as a fruitless endeavor. But it fulfills a moral obligation. As he writes: “Knowing the Nepali mindset, it may be a futile attempt—but it satisfies my conscience. I have done my duty and shown myself to be a grainy student of truth.”
Let history record that there were voices who did not remain silent when a nation’s democratic legacy was in peril—especially from those who were supposed to be its custodians.
(Dr. Janardan Subedi is Professor of Sociology at Miami University, Ohio, and writes on political sociology, democracy, and South Asian governance.)
