The word ‘mahsoos’, which comes from Urdu, refers not only to the perception received through the external senses, but also to the mood, sensation and internal state. Its closest word in Nepali is ‘anubhav’, which encompasses mental, emotional and intellectual states along with sensory perception. But ‘anubhav’ cannot always convey the depth of sensation, subtle self-awareness and emotional fluidity expressed by the word ‘ehsaas’ to the same extent. Although the word ‘anubhuti’ seems to be useful in this context, it cannot completely replace the full extent of subjective and intimate sensitivity inherent in ‘ehsaas’.

In some cases, perception can be the result of logic and events, but feeling is an internal vibration that does not require any objective basis or logical argument to prove it. If you feel it, it is done. The context is the second Madhesh Literature Festival recently held in Birgunj. On the second evening, during a poetry reading session, an unknown participant sitting next to you asked the poet in a whisper – ‘What do you think, will there be elections? I have a feeling that there won’t be. Look at the faces of the leaders, don’t they look like they have already lost before the elections? And will they allow the elections to be held?’ Since the word feeling was used, there was no need for explanation. The conversation with the participant then turned to literary discussions.

Like other countries in South Asia, the wave of literature festivals is becoming widespread in Nepal. For the middle-class reader who is traditionally accustomed to hearing poet conferences, book discussions, and praise of established writers, the forms of modern ‘literature festivals’ may seem somewhat different and sometimes incompatible. It is impossible to imagine a festival without ‘mandatory rituals’ like poetry readings, book releases and author-reader dialogues, but these days such forums are not limited to just that.

No matter how much policy, methodology and democracy are talked about in elite discussion forums like literature festivals, grassroots politics still revolve around leaders rather than policies, individuals rather than ideas and personalities rather than philosophies.     Open debates on issues of society, culture, politics, democracy and identity have become an integral part of the program in today’s literature festivals. Exhibitions of local art, music and handicrafts make the festival inclusive, while the presence of renowned artists adds luster to it. On the other hand, politicians seem eager to use such intellectual forums to boost their image. Since entry is usually free, these public spaces have also become meeting points for the leisurely crowd.

The economics and politics of such festivals are very interesting. Although the audience and listeners are local, a significant number of speakers are invited from outside. Even if they do not have to pay cash honorariums, the cost of their travel and hospitality does not reduce. If registration fees are charged for participation, there is a risk that the auditorium will remain empty. Although there is no shortage of enthusiastic volunteers, the physical arrangement and decoration of the venue is a costly task. Due to the compulsion to depend on corporate sponsors to raise the necessary resources for the event, these festivals are unwittingly developing as a ‘soft power’ that promotes the narrative and acceptability of the ‘unmukt bazaar’. Sponsors, who have a great opportunity to brighten their public image by investing a small part of their corporate social responsibility funds, are now looking towards the mofussils outside the big cities.

Events held outside the capital not only give Kathmandu speakers a taste of local cuisine, but also an opportunity to interact with ideas flowing at the grassroots level. The second Madhesh Literature Festival in Birgunj was also a confluence of such activities. Since the lack of opposing positions in the discussion would have been dull, it was natural for political voices to resonate there. While intellectual debates were going on within the festival, a different side of politics was visible in ordinary life outside. Although there was not much enthusiasm for the upcoming elections in the Padhaiya Jamaat, the common people were not politically neutral, but their understanding seemed to be completely ‘individual-centered’.

An e-rickshaw driver from Sarlahi claimed – ‘We will go to the village to vote for the future Prime Minister.’ Interestingly, the candidate he had named was not from Sarlahi but was contesting the elections from Jhapa. When a passenger pointed out this fact, his simple answer was – ‘What happened, if not for him, then we will vote for his people.’ Even when the election was approaching, he did not have a clear idea about the party or election symbol of his preferred leader, but his devotion to the leader was unwavering.

This trend of ‘individual-centeredness’ is not limited to Birgunj. A few days ago, a taxi driver from Kathmandu had also expressed similar sentiments. He was planning to go to Siraha to vote for the ‘future Prime Minister’, while the politician he named is not a candidate from there. His argument was even more dismissive – ‘What difference does the party make, when you look after your own people!’ A young man from Rautahat, who does business in Kathmandu, also had the same response – ‘When things get tough tomorrow, it is the ‘leader’ who will come in handy, why get stuck in the quagmire of ten different parties? Why read their manifestos? There is no such thing as airy talk, and I have never seen it!’

No matter how much policy, system and democracy are talked about in elite discussion forums like the Literature Festival, grassroots politics still revolves around personalities that are stronger than leaders, individuals than ideas and philosophies. In addition, the apathy, disintegration, and erosion of social and moral norms caused by the cynical attitude of the general public towards the political process prepare the ground for the practice of ‘Caesarism’, named after the Roman ruler Julius Caesar.

Popular ruler

In the concept of Caesarism, named after the ruler of the ancient Roman Empire Julius Caesar, the entire system of governance begins to revolve around a charismatic figure. Often, when there is political instability in society, an economic crisis occurs, or existing parties lose the trust of the people, then people start looking for a ‘Caesar’ (strong ruler). A ruler who emerges with the direct support of the people or with the help of military power presents himself as a savior or savior. Caesarism is not an old-style monarchy. It is not a traditional military regime either, although Caesarist rulers often overthrow the government under the guise of the army and run the system with its help. The characteristic of Caesarist rulers is that they often confirm their legitimacy through general elections or plebiscites. They create a narrative that says, ‘I am the representative of the people and only I can solve your problems.’

Caesarism leads to excessive centralization of power, legitimacy, and decision-making in a charismatic individual in politics. Although a formally democratic structure appears to be in place, in practice institutions are overshadowed and the elected ruler becomes the supreme ruler of the country. Such leadership begins to ignore parliament, parties, and legal processes ‘in the name of the people’. It begins to portray criticism as instability or anti-nationalism. It presents individual decisions as a national necessity by showing an ongoing or imminent crisis. Caesarism is dangerous because it does not destroy the system of government all at once, as in a military coup, but rather gradually undermines it and finally collapses it, establishing a ‘strong dictator’ as the supreme authority. Elections remain, but choices are limited. Constitutional institutions remain, but they are not independent. The referendum slowly begins to be interpreted as a mandate, but accountability is lost. Ultimately, politics becomes a matter of the mood of the individual, not of policy and process. Then, democratic governance comes to depend on the mood and whims of the executive instead of constitutional stability and the continuity of institutions.

Although ‘elected executive’ seems to be a combination of words that seem contradictory, the groundwork for Caesarism is prepared as ‘politics becomes individualistic’. The debate over ‘who will be the prime minister’ in parliamentary elections and the political situation that follows it may be an early sign that the risk of Caesarism described by Gramsci is increasing. Long-term competition between major political forces, unstable alliances, and ideological and policy directionlessness have led to a clear lack of leadership in the running of the state. As the arrogance of Khadga Prasad Sharma Oli, the ethnic chieftain of the dominant Khasa Arya community, grew, he made the parliament a place to approve his decisions, dragged the court into controversy, and transformed the state machinery into a body politic. But the fault was not only his personal but also the social situation and institutional weaknesses. After that, as public trust in parliament, government and institutions gradually weakened, a kind of ‘biological crisis’ began to be felt, in Gramsci’s language, and the Green Belt uprising of September 2025, whether spontaneous or sponsored, led to a constitutional crisis.

The unconstitutional and paramilitary government, which was tasked with reviving the moribund constitution by holding elections, became tolerable due to situational compulsion rather than public trust. In such a situation, the possibility of an individual, institution or extraordinary power center interfering by bypassing the democratic process and institutional balance in the name of ‘establishing law and order’ increases. Gramsci considered this situation as the precursor to Caesarism, where centralization of power can be achieved by exploiting democratic weaknesses. Centralized power is a risky system in itself, and if it is established through individual-centered elections, it will be difficult to prevent the rise of autocracy.

Caesarism leads to excessive centralization of power, legitimacy, and decision-making in a charismatic person in politics. Although the democratic structure appears to be in place formally, in practice, institutions are overshadowed and even the elected ruler becomes the supreme ruler of the country. The essence of parliamentary democracy is competition between policies, ideas and programs. But where did the idea of ​​holding a public debate between potential ‘prime ministerial candidates’ come from? Although face-to-face debates between personalities presented by the media are entertaining, such debates are completely incompatible with the basic principles of parliamentary competition. If they were to be held, the main candidates would have organized ‘town hall’-style interactions in each constituency. Competing parties show the face of their leaders before their manifestos, and talk about charisma before their organization. When the election debate is limited to the question of ‘who will do it’ rather than ‘what to do next’, the political process leaves the institutional path and shifts to the shoulders of the individual. Thus, the very character of parliamentary elections changes – parties continue to exist formally, but politics becomes personal. Is the upcoming election really a competition between parties or just a clash of individuals? If the e-rickshaw driver of Birgunj and the taxi driver of Kathmandu are feeling independent in multi-party elections, then the main culprits for such an anomaly are the major political parties that present their leaders as heroes instead of the people's representatives who carry out the policy.

Since the ethnic chieftain is in a hurry to assume the post of Prime Minister, the constitution is promulgated without discussion by using the party whip. Despite the rotation of power and the distribution of ministries in the form of division, the government changes frequently. The parliament seems ineffective. The feeling that the constitutional institutions and government structures have failed to meet the expectations of the people is disheartening among the citizens. Similarly, frustration is the source of the misguided but hopeful desire to ‘fix everything once a strong ruler comes’. But that is not a solution, but a sign of a democratic crisis – a ruler brought in to ‘fix’ others eventually fixes the people themselves. When solutions to public problems are sought in individuals instead of institutions, the spirit of a multi-party system is lost. A parliamentary system is driven by institutional discretion and collective responsibility rather than individual ability, because even the most talented person can fall into the trap of a vested interest group. The individual-centeredness of a parliamentary system creates a more dangerous situation than a non-party system – where power lies with individuals, but accountability is shifted to institutions.

Individual-centered system

After the restoration of the parliamentary system in 1990, the first House of Representatives elected in 1991 was dissolved by Prime Minister Girija Prasad Koirala due to political instability and deep divisions within the ruling Nepali Congress. Even democratic politicians who came to open politics from a restricted state were unable to develop parliamentary culture. विवाद बढेपछि संसदीय दलको नेतृत्व फेर्नुको साटो प्रतिनिधिसभाको विघटन नै गर्ने 

आफ्ना राजनीतिक गुरुको पदचिह्न पछ्याउँदै शेरबहादुर देउवाले पनि सन् २००२ मा संसद् नै भंग गरिदिए । जानिफकारहरूका अनुसार मुलुकको स्थायी सत्ताबाट विघटनपछिको निर्वाचनबाट दुई तिहाइ बहुमतका साथ फर्काइने आश्वासन गुरु कोइरालाजस्तै शिष्य देउवाले पनि अनौपचारिक रूपमा पाएका थिए । तर विघटनका लागि उक्साउनेको आफ्नै स्वार्थ हुन्छ । संसद्‍ बिनाको संसदीय व्यवस्था टिक्दैन भन्ने कुरा दुवै राजनीतिकर्मीहरूले ठम्याए पनि त्यही गल्ती शर्मा ओलीले दुई–दुई पटक दोहोर्‍याउँदा सर्वोच्च अदालतले संसद् पुनःस्थापना मात्र नभएर विपक्षी दलका नेता देउवालाई प्रधानमन्त्री नियुक्त गर्न परमादेशसमेत जारी गर्नुपरेको थियो । हरितपीत विद्रोहपछि संसद् विघटनलाई कामचलाउ सरकारको गठनका लागि सर्त बनाउनेका पनि आफ्नै कार्यसूची होला ।

प्रधानमन्त्री प्रणालीको राष्ट्रपतीकरण प्रायः त्यस्ता अवस्थामा देखिन्छ, जहाँ संसदीय प्रजातन्त्रका संस्थाहरू कमजोर हुन्छन् तर कार्यकारी प्रमुखले मतादेशलाई जनादेशका रूपमा अर्थ्याएर सत्ता कब्जा गर्न प्रयोग गर्न थाल्छ । दलहरू वैचारिक कुपोषणले ग्रस्त र संगठनात्मक रूपमा रुग्ण हुँदा नेतृत्व व्यक्तिकेन्द्रित बन्छ ।     हतार–हतार मस्यौदा गरिएको संविधानका अवधारणात्मक त्रुटिहरू त जे छन्, छँदै छन्, संसदीय एवं राष्ट्रपतीय प्रणालीबीचको बहसलाई तार्किक निष्कर्षमा नपुर्‍याइएकाले पनि व्यक्तिकेन्द्रित राजनीतिको घातक आकर्षण कम नभएको हुन सक्छ । हुन त संसदीय व्यवस्थामा ‘प्रधानमन्त्रीको राष्ट्रपतीकरण’ नेपालको मात्र समस्या होइन । दक्षिण एसियामै पनि बंगलादेशका तत्कालीन प्रधानमन्त्री शेख हसिना र भारतका पदासीन प्रधानमन्त्री नरेन्द्र मोदीले प्रधानमन्त्री कार्यालयलाई प्रत्यक्ष निर्वाचित कार्यकारी प्रमुखभन्दा पनि बलियो बनाइदिएका छन् । आसन्न निर्वाचनका लागि प्रयोग भइरहेका ‘अब की बार... सरकार’ नारा अक्कल नलगाई सोझै भारतीय परिवेशबाट नक्कल गरिएको नारा हो ।