Oli’s Question on the Royal Palace Massacre: Self-Defence, Power Struggle and a Multidimensional Strategy
# Muna Chand
Former prime minister and CPN-UML Chairman KP Sharma Oli’s claim that then-crown prince Dipendra Shah did not carry out the Narayanhiti Royal Palace massacre is not merely a historical comment. The timing of the statement, the nature of the programme where it was delivered, the legal and political pressure surrounding Oli, and the present balance of power together suggest a multilayered political strategy.
A high-level investigation committee formed after the royal massacre of Jestha 19, 2058 concluded that Dipendra was responsible. Oli has rejected that conclusion as a “ready-made story” linked to Dipendra’s romantic relationship and circulated globally as misinformation. However, he has not presented new evidence, eyewitness testimony, forensic material or an alternative reconstruction of the event. His statement should therefore be understood not as a verified historical revelation, but as a political claim carrying present-day significance.
Oli did not make the statement at a seminar on the royal massacre, history or national security. He raised the issue while speaking about disinformation, manufactured narratives and systematic political propaganda at an event launching the UML’s upgraded website and digital communications system. This indicates that his main subject was not Dipendra, but control over information, public opinion and political truth.
The broader question he appears to be raising is this: why should society accept a narrative presented by the state, the media or powerful institutions as the final truth? If an incomplete or inaccurate account could become established in a national tragedy as significant as the royal massacre, then the narratives surrounding the present political transition, the Gen Z movement, the decline of traditional parties and the rise of new forces should not be considered beyond scrutiny either.
This leads to the first and most immediate purpose behind Oli’s statement: transforming the legal risk facing him into a narrative of political self-defence.
Seventy-six people were killed during police action, arson and the violence that followed the Gen Z protests of September 2025. A commission formed to investigate the events concluded that then-prime minister Oli and home minister Ramesh Lekhak had failed to take the necessary steps to stop hours of firing on demonstrators and recommended their prosecution. This was not a judicial conviction, but a recommendation for investigation and prosecution. Oli and Lekhak were arrested for investigation in Chaitra 2082, the day after Balendra Shah took the oath of office as prime minister.
In his testimony before the commission, Oli said he had not ordered the firing, that police mobilisation fell within the jurisdiction of the Home Ministry, and that a prime minister would not necessarily receive direct information about every operational development. He also claimed that the movement had been hijacked by infiltrators and that he had instructed the authorities to avoid casualties.
This reveals the central basis of his defence: separating overall political responsibility from administrative and operational decisions made at the security level. The royal massacre narrative may be an ideological extension of that defence.
By arguing that governments and institutions can construct an official version of events that may later prove inaccurate, Oli can portray the commission’s account of the Gen Z protests, the investigation against him and the actions of the Balendra government as history written by the victors.
This strategy questions the credibility of the institutions determining the facts before directly disproving the allegations themselves. Once the government, the commission, the police investigation and the media are portrayed as parts of the same biased structure, the political pressure on Oli to disprove each accusation individually is reduced. His supporters may begin to see the inquiry not as an impartial legal process, but as a narrative produced by a new ruling order.
Oli’s statement is also deeply connected to Prime Minister Balendra Shah and the Rastriya Swatantra Party.
In the House of Representatives election of 2082, the RSP won 182 seats in the 275-member lower house. Balendra secured 68,348 votes in Jhapa–5, while Oli was limited to 18,734. This was not merely an electoral defeat in one constituency. It symbolised the decisive victory of Balendra’s new political narrative over Oli’s long-established influence.
Before the election, Oli had proposed an open public debate among major leaders. Balendra refused to share the stage with him and held Oli responsible for the deaths during the Gen Z protests. Balendra’s use of phrases such as “killer of children” and “terrorist” represented forceful campaign accusations, not legal findings. Nevertheless, they transformed the rivalry between the two leaders from a contest over policy and programmes into a struggle over moral legitimacy, guilt and innocence.
The political rise of Balendra and the RSP rests on a central narrative: the old parties failed, the Gen Z rebellion was a natural response to that failure, and the new force received a mandate to establish accountability and good governance.
By questioning the official account of the royal massacre, Oli is indirectly challenging this narrative as well. His implied message is that portraying the old forces as solely responsible for the country’s problems and the new forces as national rescuers may itself be a politically constructed account.
This does not mean that Balendra, the RSP or the present government can be directly linked to the royal massacre. There is no factual basis for such a conclusion. Instead, Oli is using one of Nepal’s most disputed official narratives as a symbol in the current power struggle. He is attempting to place both the accusations against him and the moral foundations of the new political order inside the same question: who has the authority to define the truth?
The timing of his statement is also significant. Home Minister Sudhan Gurung decided on Jestha 26, 2083, after assuming office, to study the previous reports on the royal massacre and move forward with further investigation. Oli publicly claimed a few weeks later that Dipendra was not responsible.
Viewed in this context, Oli’s statement is also an attempt to exert political influence in advance over the government’s proposed investigation.
Should the government support the previous conclusion, Oli can describe it as a continuation of the same “ready-made story.” Should no new evidence emerge, the government may be accused of politically exploiting a deeply emotional issue. Should new facts be disclosed, Oli can claim that he had already challenged the official account.
In other words, Oli has positioned himself to derive political benefit regardless of the investigation’s outcome. This is a familiar feature of his political style: raising the question first, shaping public opinion and defining the boundaries of the debate before institutions deliver their conclusions.
Oli’s statement may also be examined in relation to the role of the Nepal Army, although clear limits must be observed.
There is no publicly available evidence allowing his remarks to be interpreted as an accusation of direct Nepal Army involvement in the royal massacre. Oli did not name the army in his latest statement. Linking the two events as parts of one direct conspiracy without evidence would not constitute responsible journalism.
There is, however, a basis for connecting his political dissatisfaction to the extraordinary role played by the army during the transition following the Gen Z protests.
As the protests became violent, the police system weakened, major state structures were set on fire and the army assumed responsibility for security after Oli’s resignation. The army also held discussions with Gen Z representatives and other stakeholders while facilitating an interim political settlement.
From one perspective, the army performed a necessary role in preventing complete disorder and preserving the continuity of the state. From another, the involvement of a security institution in mediating among political groups and facilitating a new power structure after the collapse of an elected government raises sensitive questions about civilian supremacy.
Nepal’s Constitution places army mobilisation within a chain involving a recommendation by the National Security Council, a decision of the Council of Ministers and formal action by the President. It does not grant the army the authority to act as an independent political decision-maker or mediator in the formation of a government.
The boundary between the security vacuum filled by the army during a national crisis and the political facilitation it subsequently performed is therefore a legitimate subject of democratic debate.
From Oli’s perspective, the issue may not be limited to the fall of his government. A non-elected security institution emerged as a decisive intermediary at a time when elected political institutions had become ineffective. His questions about the official account of the royal massacre may be an extension of this wider institutional mistrust—the suspicion that the story publicly presented by state institutions may differ from the actual balance of power operating behind the scenes.
The two issues must nonetheless remain distinct. Controversy surrounding the army’s post-Gen Z role and controversy surrounding the official conclusion of the royal massacre are separate matters. What connects them is not direct evidence, but the broader distrust Oli is seeking to cultivate toward state institutions, the security establishment and official narratives.
The international situation gives his language an additional layer of meaning.
In recent years, established political leadership in Sri Lanka, Bangladesh and Nepal has faced major challenges from youth anger, anti-corruption sentiment, unemployment and movements accelerated by social media. In Nepal, restrictions on social media may have provided an immediate trigger, but the deeper sources of unrest included corruption, lack of opportunity, economic frustration and resentment toward the political elite.
Oli’s accusation that major international media outlets circulated a single account of the royal massacre without conducting independent investigation does not appear accidental. It allows him to interpret the current political transition through the wider framework of international information flows, digital propaganda and foreign narratives.
Nepal occupies a sensitive geopolitical position between India and China. The early diplomatic approach of the Balendra government has also generated controversy.
When a proposed visit by Indian Foreign Secretary Vikram Misri was postponed, Nepali officials suggested that Prime Minister Shah’s policy of not meeting foreign officials below the rank of foreign minister and the Lipulekh dispute may have been contributing factors. India, however, said the visit had been postponed because of other commitments.
Balendra later argued that Britain, in view of the historical context of the Sugauli Treaty, should also take an interest in the Nepal–India boundary question. India rejected any third-party role and maintained that boundary issues must be resolved through bilateral mechanisms. The Nepal government later clarified that it had sought historical documents and archives from Britain rather than mediation.
These developments do not prove that the Balendra government has failed diplomatically. They do, however, show that debate has begun over the new government’s nationalism, diplomatic protocol and handling of relations with neighbouring countries.
This creates an important political opportunity for Oli. Having previously tied the Lipulekh, Limpiyadhura and Kalapani questions to his own nationalist identity, he may now attempt to portray Balendra’s nationalism as inexperienced, reactive or diplomatically weak.
His claim that the royal massacre narrative was disseminated globally therefore acquires a nationalist dimension. It suggests that foreign powers, international media and external influence have attempted to define Nepal’s history and political reality. No credible evidence has emerged, however, proving that any foreign power deliberately engineered the political transition in Nepal. A clear distinction must be maintained between analysing geopolitical interests and presenting an unsupported conspiracy theory as fact.
Another key audience for Oli’s strategy is the UML’s internal rank and file.
After the RSP’s victory with 182 seats, the UML was reduced to 25 members in the House of Representatives. Oli lost in his traditional constituency, was arrested shortly afterward and saw his party’s national influence decline. Questions about his continued leadership were therefore inevitable.
Ordinary criticism of the government may not be sufficient for Oli to retain his relevance inside the party. He needs to re-establish himself as a leader capable of speaking truths concealed by the establishment, understanding the deeper meaning of national events and identifying domestic and external conspiracies.
Using decisive language on an emotionally charged subject such as the royal massacre may be part of that effort to rebuild his leadership.
It may also enable him to communicate with voters sympathetic to the monarchy. There is no evidence that Oli now supports the restoration of the monarchy. However, he may seek to prevent parties advocating royal restoration from monopolising voters who respect King Birendra, distrust the official conclusion of the massacre and suspect foreign interference.
This represents a dual strategy: formally supporting the republic while politically using the emotional nationalism associated with the monarchy.
Oli’s statement on the royal massacre therefore appears to bring together five political objectives.
First, to portray the investigation into the Gen Z protests and the legal risk facing him as products of political revenge and a false narrative.
Second, to challenge the moral and good-governance legitimacy claimed by Balendra and the RSP.
Third, to shape public opinion and place political pressure on the government before it reopens the royal massacre investigation.
Fourth, to keep institutional suspicion alive regarding the security and political facilitation role played by the Nepal Army after the Gen Z protests.
Fifth, to recentre his leadership inside the UML while attracting nationalist voters, those sympathetic to the monarchy and those suspicious of foreign interference.
Oli’s real question is therefore not limited to “Who carried out the royal massacre?” His deeper political question is: who has the authority to write the official account of Nepal’s history, present condition and political legitimacy?
Oli has not answered that question with evidence. But he has raised it at a time when the old political order has been defeated, the new force is under examination, the role of the security establishment is disputed and the state is reopening old files.
His statement is therefore neither a verified historical revelation nor an impulsive emotional comment. It is a calculated political intervention aimed at constructing his defence, weakening the moral foundations of his opponents and influencing the direction of public debate.
Its ultimate impact will depend not on Oli’s claim itself, but on whether the government can conduct investigations into both the royal massacre and the Gen Z protests in an impartial, transparent and evidence-based manner.
