The Case for a Non-Political President

Nepal has had three presidents to date, all with strong political backgrounds. Instead of transcending party lines, the presidency has too often become a continuation of partisan interests dressed in ceremonial neutrality. Article 62(6) of the Constitution requires presidents to renounce their party positions once they assume office. But the Constitution is silent on what happens after their term ends.

Earlier this year, former President Bidhya Devi Bhandari made her intentions clear that she plans to rejoin active politics. The public’s response was swift: “Where is the morality?” many asked. But morality in politics has little meaning unless it is backed by structural safeguards. And this isn’t hypothetical. During her tenure, Bhandari delayed bills her party opposed and approved the unconstitutional dissolution of Parliament at KP Sharma Oli’s request. At moments where she could have acted as a constitutional guardrail, she instead played the role of partisan ally. When the Head of State is viewed as a political actor, the symbolism of the presidency is corroded. And in politics, symbols matter as much as powers.

The cracks in this symbolism became visible in the most brutal way this September. As Generation Z-led protests swept across Nepal, the Prime Minister went into hiding, ministers stepped down, and members of parliament vanished from public view. The core of the government seemed to hollow out overnight, leaving a leadership vacuum. In such a crisis, the presidency should have been the anchoring, nonpartisan figure to hold dialogue and calm the storm. Instead, the office was consumed by distrust.

President Ram Chandra Poudel, a lifelong Nepali Congress politician, was not seen as neutral. Protesters torched both his private residence and the presidential palace, alongside the homes of other party leaders. Youth leaders like Balen Shah urged protesters to talk have talks with the Army Chief rather than the President. That alone says everything: even though Article 267 of the Constitution makes the President the commander-in-chief of the Nepal Army, the public preferred the soldier over the Head of State. The presidency had lost its moral authority.

Imagine if Nepal had a President who was trusted, respected, and seen as above politics, someone with integrity and credibility, who could act as a moral compass in moments of crisis. The outcome could have been very different. Instead, people saw just another politician in a new chair.

A Shift in National Thinking

The presidency is not meant to rule or legislate. It is a symbolic office, a conscience of the nation, a ceremonial head that should unify the people. If that is the case, why do we continue filling the post with party veterans?

It is time to rethink the presidency. It should no longer serve as a retirement prize for politicians. Instead, it should embody the values of service, integrity, and neutrality. The President should be someone who has contributed meaningfully to national life — in education, health, justice, science, social reform, or other fields that shape the country’s future.

The First Reform

Reform doesn’t need to start with a grand overhaul. Two simple rules would change everything:

First, anyone nominated for President should not have held party affiliation for at least the last ten years.

Second, once a person completes their term, they should be barred permanently from rejoining party politics.

This doesn’t strip anyone of their rights. They can still engage in social work, write, lecture, or even advise governments. What it does is preserve the sanctity of a national institution. Because when a President re-enters partisan politics, every decision they made in office becomes suspect in hindsight.

This problem has already played out. During KP Oli’s swearing-in, President Bhandari began reading the oath of office. Oli interrupted her mid-clause with a dismissive, “Not necessary.” It was a moment of personal disrespect, yes, but also of symbolic collapse. The Prime Minister did not view her as a constitutional guardian. He saw her as a party colleague reading a script.

To prevent such humiliation, the Presidency must be decoupled from party identity. Parliament may still elect the President, but the pool of candidates must be drawn from individuals with proven contributions to public life, not recycled party stalwarts.

A Bolder Possibility

Nepal could go further. It could create a contribution-based model where both the candidates and the voters in the presidential election are drawn from among the country’s most respected contributors.

The idea is straightforward: take political parties out of the process entirely and let the best of society choose the symbolic head of society.

Here’s how it could work. We identify key sectors that drive Nepal’s national development. I could think of twelve - education, health, science, agriculture, social work, law and governance, arts and culture, climate, entrepreneurship, technology, infrastructure, and disaster response - but this list can be expanded or collapsed based on broader national consultations. Some of these sectors already exist formally, as mentioned as honors in Bibhusan Ain 2064, while others are recognized informally. Nepal should move toward formally recognizing all major sectors of contribution through an updated and inclusive framework.

Each year, an independent professional panel endorsed by the government but composed primarily of past honorees and nationally recognized contributors would select one outstanding individual from each sector in every province. Over five years, this would yield a pool of 420 respected individuals, with nominations alternating by gender to ensure equity.

To make the process even more representative, the pool would include five contributors from the transgender community and ten recipients of the national highest civilian honors over the past five years (two per year), with their votes carrying double weight as a mark of national distinction.

In total, this would form a 435-person presidential electoral college, casting 445 votes.

Each sector would nominate one candidate for the presidency, assuming they have had no political party affiliation for the past ten years. Four candidates would then be selected through a transparent sortition process supervised by the Chief Justice, the Chief Election Commissioner, the Attorney General, and independent civil society observers. The electoral college would then vote electronically. If no candidate secures over 40 percent of the vote, a runoff would be held between the top two.

To prevent dominance by any one field, a simple rule could be introduced: no two consecutive presidents can come from the same sector.

This model doesn’t just remove partisan politics. It creates a national tradition of honoring service. It realigns the presidency with the ideals of merit, integrity, and contribution. It reminds young Nepalis that you don’t need to join a party to lead the nation; you need to serve the nation.

The calculation and structure proposed are just one way to imagine it. The goal is not to push a fixed formula, but to open up new ways of thinking about what the presidency could stand for. Any approach that upholds neutrality, rewards merit, and recognizes national contributors deserves space, discussion, and deeper research.

Restoring Meaning

It is no secret that even Nepal’s highest civilian honors, like the Nepal Ratna, are often awarded late, posthumously, or to political figures. Since 2019, the award has not been given at all. We are failing to honor contributors while they are alive, while their example can still inspire the nation.

Imagine if the President were a rural surgeon who had led transformative health campaigns, or a scientist whose groundbreaking work in disaster management had saved thousands of lives throughout Nepal. These are the kinds of individuals who could truly restore dignity to the presidency.

The Shift Worth Pursuing

Some may call this idealistic. But idealism is not delusion. Every reform begins with reimagining what is possible.

This is not about rejecting politics. It is about elevating one office above it, so that in moments of national fracture, there remains one figure who can speak with integrity, listen with neutrality, and unite by example.

Even modest reforms like requiring non-affiliation and banning post-term party return would be meaningful steps forward. But the contribution model offers something bigger: hope. It shows that the presidency can inspire, not just rubber-stamp.

Nepal deserves a Head of State who can command trust not by decree, but by character.