In recent months, pro-monarchy demonstrations have flared across Nepal, with some protesters carrying posters of Indian Chief Minister Yogi Adityanath. These symbolic gestures are not incidental. They signal a growing ideological intersection between Nepal’s royalist nostalgia and India’s rising Hindu nationalism. For some in India’s ruling Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) – and its ideological mentor, the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) – the return of a Hindu monarchy in Nepal is being framed as both a civilizational triumph and a strategic necessity. But this vision is a dangerous misreading of Nepal’s history, its political complexities, and the implications for India’s regional interests.
For India, the idea of a culturally aligned, Hindu-majority monarchy in Nepal appears attractive amid the growing Chinese presence in the region. Proponents argue that a Hindu king could serve as a bulwark against Beijing, foster cultural affinity, and stabilize a politically turbulent neighbor. This narrative has gained traction among Indian right-wing commentators and politicians alike, echoing similar ideological currents across the subcontinent.
But this fantasy is historically flawed and strategically shortsighted.
Nepal’s monarchy was never the steadfast Indian ally it is now nostalgically remembered as. After King Tribhuvan’s exile and return with Indian Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru’s support in 1950, hopes for a constitutional monarchy in Nepal were high. Yet these hopes were quickly dashed. King Mahendra’s 1960 royal coup dismantled the nascent democracy, suppressed pro-India politicians, and aligned Nepal closer to China – a pattern that recurred with his son, King Gyanendra, during his 2005-08 power grab.
Rather than strengthening ties with India, these monarchs often positioned themselves in opposition to Indian influence, using Hindu nationalism to consolidate internal power and assert sovereignty. Gyanendra’s regime, in particular, alienated New Delhi and created fertile ground for Chinese strategic inroads. Far from a stabilizing force, Nepal’s monarchy repeatedly proved to be a source of autocracy and diplomatic estrangement.
The renewed royalist fervor in Nepal is often conflated with calls to re-establish a Hindu state. But not all supporters of a Hindu identity in Nepal support restoring the monarchy. The Nepali Congress, one of the country’s largest democratic parties, has formally endorsed the idea of a Hindu state, while opposing monarchical rule. This distinction is crucial. While monarchy implies authoritarian rule, calls for a Hindu state are more about cultural assertion – especially amid growing anxieties over federalism, secularism, and demographic change.
Still, both narratives stem from widespread public frustration with Nepal’s current political system. Since the monarchy’s abolition in 2008, no elected government has completed a full term. Federalism, while progressive in theory, is seen by many Nepalis as creating more inefficiency and corruption, summed up in the popular quip: “Earlier we had one king, now we have 761.” This disillusionment is the fertile ground on which royalist and theocratic fantasies grow.
The BJP-RSS establishment’s embrace of Nepal’s monarchists reflects more than strategic calculation; it is rooted in a shared ideological affinity for majoritarian nationalism and centralized religious authority. Figures like Yogi Adityanath – who symbolize the fusion of Hindu religiosity and political power – are seen by Nepal’s royalist right as aspirational models. The imagery of Adityanath at Nepal’s protests is a visual manifestation of this ideological export.
Yet India’s historical actions have not always helped its image in Nepal. Two unofficial blockades – one in 1989 and another in 2015 – inflicted economic hardship and deepened resentment. Meanwhile, perceptions of Indian interference in Nepal’s domestic politics remain strong, further complicated by conspiracy theories (such as India’s alleged role in the 2001 royal massacre) that, while baseless, are emotionally potent.
These legacies have allowed China to position itself as a “non-interfering partner” and expand its footprint through infrastructure investments, soft power, and engagement with Nepal’s security apparatus. In contrast, India’s growing ideological alignment with monarchy risks alienating democratic forces within Nepal and undermining its long-term influence.
Restoring a monarchy in Nepal won’t fix the structural issues that fuel instability: youth unemployment, rural poverty, and elite-driven governance. Over 4 million Nepalis now work abroad, and remittances equate to nearly 30 percent of GDP. Nepal’s economy remains heavily dependent on India, especially for trade, electricity, and transit infrastructure.
India has made quiet but substantial investments in this sector – from the 900 MW Arun-III hydropower project to completed railway links like Jaynagar–Bardibas. Cross-border electricity transmission lines and the BBIN (Bangladesh, Bhutan, India, Nepal) initiative could position Nepal as a clean energy exporter in the region. These are the kinds of practical integrations that truly stabilize bilateral relations – not ideological posturing.
Meanwhile, Nepal’s elected communist leaders – despite occasional anti-India rhetoric – have maintained functional ties with New Delhi. Leaders like Pushpa Kamal Dahal and current Prime Minister K.P. Sharma Oli may wave nationalist flags, but their electoral legitimacy requires ongoing engagement with India. Even critics of federalism are not necessarily calling for a return to monarchy, but rather for reforms that make democracy deliver.
Ultimately, betting on monarchy is not a foreign policy strategy – it’s an ideological fantasy. If India wants to compete with China and maintain long-term influence in Nepal, it must invest in pluralism, economic cooperation, and democratic consolidation. The imagery of Yogi Adityanath in Kathmandu may excite some in Nagpur, but it alarms many in Nepal – and even more in India’s diplomatic community.
India’s strength in South Asia has always come from its democratic model, not its imperial ambitions. Replacing that model with nostalgia for crowns and gods will only open the door further to adversaries who offer infrastructure without interference, and partnership without prescriptions.
