The Crisis of CPN-UML and the Political Question of Organizational Reconstruction

Muna Chand

If the current debate within the Communist Party of Nepal (Unified Marxist-Leninist) is understood merely as dissatisfaction with KP Sharma Oli’s leadership, a demand for generational transition, or a reaction to losing power, the party will fail to identify the true nature of its crisis. Although individuals are at the center of the present controversy, the roots of the problem lie deeper—in organizational structure, decision-making, leadership development, internal democracy, discipline and succession.

The review debate that intensified after the Gen Z movement has brought questions of age limits, leadership tenure, distribution of opportunities, personal wealth, lifestyle, corruption allegations and leadership transition to the surface. These are not concerns belonging to one faction or one leader. They raise a more fundamental question: how did a large, experienced and nationally organized communist party exercise its power, why did institutional checks weaken, and why did dissatisfaction remain suppressed for so long before erupting all at once?

To understand UML’s crisis, it is as wrong to place all responsibility on a single individual as it is to dismiss every question raised about the leadership as a conspiracy.

Chairman KP Sharma Oli is the most influential political figure within UML. His role has been decisive in shaping the party’s direction, electoral strategy, government formation and the broader balance of power in national politics. It is therefore natural that the leadership bears a major share of responsibility for both success and failure. But a vast organization is not run by one person alone over a long period. The Secretariat, Politburo, Central Committee, provincial and district organizations, mass organizations, and the political circle surrounding the leadership all contribute to creating the party’s decision-making culture.

If an individual gradually became larger than the institution, the question is not only why that individual accumulated so much authority, but also why the party’s institutional structures failed to provide balance. If space for criticism of the leadership became narrow, why did the central bodies not intervene in time? If proximity to the leadership became a basis for opportunity, appointment and political protection, those who benefited from that system must also be willing to engage in self-criticism today.

For this reason, UML’s problem is not merely “centralized leadership.” It is also a problem of weak institutional control.

The debate over age limits and term limits is directly connected to this issue. Leadership transition is not simply a biological question of age. A person above 70 can be capable, while someone in their 40s can be ineffective. Age alone cannot be the final measure of leadership quality. But a system with no credible institutional mechanism for leadership transition is equally unhealthy.

The ultimate success of a strong leader should not be measured by how long that person remains in office, but by how strong the party remains in that leader’s absence.

This is where UML must seriously examine its leadership-development system. How is the party preparing leaders for the next 10 or 20 years? Are new leaders being developed progressively through provincial responsibilities, local government, parliamentary roles, party organization and ideological training? Or does the question of “who comes next” arise only when a crisis erupts?

A healthy generational transition is not an insult to the older generation. For experienced leaders, transferring responsibility to the next generation should not be seen as political defeat, but as institutional succession. At the same time, if younger leaders turn succession into a campaign to forcibly displace experienced leadership, the result may be deeper fragmentation.

Both the mentality of “occupying the space indefinitely” and the politics of “pushing someone out by force” are destructive to an organization.

The present dissatisfaction did not emerge overnight. In political organizations, differences that remain suppressed while a party is in power or politically dominant often surface after defeat. When power and opportunities are available, many disagreements are postponed in the name of “unity” and “discipline.” Once the party weakens, questions of future leadership, political survival, responsibility and succession begin to emerge openly.

The current dissatisfaction therefore contains several elements at once: genuine organizational frustration, aspirations for generational transition, competition for power and, in some cases, personal ambition. It would be a mistake to dismiss all of them under a single label.

The repeated claim that UML and its leadership are under attack must also be examined in this context. UML remains one of Nepal’s most organized and influential political parties. Its nationwide structure, durable voter base, parliamentary experience, mass organizations and record of governance mean that rival political forces naturally benefit when UML becomes weaker. It is therefore not surprising that the party and its leadership frequently become targets of political attack.

But UML must protect itself from one major illusion: if every criticism is labeled an external conspiracy, the party will lose the ability to see its own weaknesses.

No external force or rival can inflict more damage than internal vulnerabilities allow. A party with ideological clarity, financial transparency, fair distribution of opportunities, a capable organization, credible leadership and strong internal trust cannot easily be weakened by outside pressure. The most effective defense against external attack is not rhetoric, but internal institutional strength.

This is where the experience of the Communist Party of China becomes worth studying. China’s political system is fundamentally different from Nepal’s multiparty parliamentary system, so the Chinese model cannot simply be transplanted into Nepal. Yet one reason the Communist Party of China has maintained organizational cohesion over a long period is its emphasis on decision-making systems, discipline, leadership development and institutional continuity.

The basic principle of democratic centralism as practiced by the Communist Party of China is discussion before a decision and unified implementation after the decision. Information and recommendations move upward from different levels, internal debate takes place within established processes, leaders are developed through long-term evaluation, and once a decision is made, the organization moves in a common direction.

Nepal’s communist parties have often displayed the reverse pattern. There is insufficient debate before decisions are made, followed by public conflict after decisions have already been taken. Leaders who remain silent inside meetings later become outspoken critics in public. Those who participated in collective decisions later refuse to share responsibility for them. Political principles may also shift according to factional alignments. Such practices weaken organizational trust.

UML does not need to copy China’s political system. What it can study is institutional continuity, leadership development, discipline in policy implementation and a genuine culture of internal debate before decisions are finalized.

Economic and ethical transparency must also be addressed. When questions arise about the assets, lifestyle or public controversies surrounding senior leaders, ministers, parliament members or political appointees, the party must develop a culture of providing answers. Investigations should not become instruments for politically eliminating opponents, but neither should party loyalty become a shield for avoiding scrutiny.

A party that conceals the truth in order to protect its leadership will eventually be unable to protect either the leadership or the organization itself.

The role of party cadres must also be redefined. Protecting the party does not mean saying “yes” to every decision of the leadership. Nor does internal democracy mean publicly destroying the reputation of one’s own organization and leadership through social media.

A communist cadre’s primary loyalty should be to ideas, organization and the people before any individual.

If a decision is wrong, party members must have the right to question it within legitimate party structures, debate it with evidence, change it through congresses and committees, and, if necessary, change the leadership itself. But participating in a decision-making process and then weakening the entire party after one’s position is defeated is not democratic practice.

At the same time, the leadership must build a culture capable of tolerating criticism before demanding discipline from the rank and file. Denying responsibility to those who express dissent, distributing opportunities on the basis of personal proximity, or treating criticism of the leadership as opposition to the organization ultimately creates a culture of sycophancy.

Discipline must begin from the top as well as from below.

The review reports and expressions of dissatisfaction now appearing inside UML represent both a crisis and an opportunity. If these documents become weapons for defeating a particular individual or faction, their political relevance will disappear within a few months. But if the party uses them as the basis for collective self-criticism, they could open the door to organizational reconstruction.

The solution to UML’s current crisis does not lie in the single question of whether “Oli stays or goes.” The fundamental question is: how should UML be governed?

The party needs institutional safeguards ensuring that no leader stands above the organization. Leadership transition must be planned rather than improvised. There must be genuine debate before decisions and institutional discipline after decisions. Opportunities must be distributed fairly. The party must develop a culture capable of answering financial and ethical questions clearly. The younger generation must be given not merely space in the crowd, but actual responsibility in leadership.

UML today is not facing the task of protecting one individual alone. It must protect its history, its organization, the political labor of hundreds of thousands of cadres, and one of the most important institutional legacies of Nepal’s left movement.

But an organization cannot be protected through personality worship.

It can only be protected through loyalty to institutions.

Ultimately, the question that will determine UML’s future is simple but difficult: regardless of who leads it, can the party return to a political culture in which institutions are larger than individuals, ideas are stronger than institutions, and the interests of the people remain above everything else?

If it can, the present crisis may become the beginning of reconstruction.

If it cannot, the problem will not end with the decline of a single leadership. It will raise a deeper question about the long-term survival of the entire organization.