From polarisation to three alliance poles
In the run-up to the March 5 election, Nepali politics has coalesced around three broad alliance poles. The first is an NC-led coalition that has sought understandings with parties such as the Janamat Party and Loktantrik Samajwadi Party, aiming to combine a centrist national brand with regional strength in Madhes and Tarai. The second is a UML-led bloc that partners with forces like the People’s Socialist Party to project a more assertive alternative to centrist governance.
The third pole is a Maoist-led alliance that includes CPN (Unified Socialist) and other left forces. It seeks to revive the relevance of transformative and identity-based agendas while retaining access to state power. These alliances are not purely ideological; they are also shaped by arithmetic, personal rivalries and the experience of fragmented coalitions after the 2022 election.
At the edge of these blocs stand parties such as Rastriya Swatantra Party and Rastriya Prajatantra Party, as well as issue-focused and regional forces. They are formally outside the main alliance structures but can become kingmakers in a hung parliament, especially under a system where 110 seats are filled through proportional representation.
The mixed system’s incentives
Nepal’s mixed electoral system creates competing incentives that push parties both toward alliances and toward independent branding. To win first-past-the-post seats, parties benefit from pooling votes behind joint candidates, especially in urban and swing constituencies where three-way contests can produce winners with low pluralities. Alliances help avoid splitting a shared support base.
On the proportional side, however, each party wants to maximise its own national vote share to gain PR seats and qualify for or retain national party status. This encourages them to preserve distinct symbols, slogans and manifestos, even when they share a common slate in FPTP seats.
The result is a complex dance in which parties co-operate in some constituencies while competing fiercely for list votes. For voters, this can be confusing: they may see rival party flags on the same stage at a rally, but entirely separate lists on the proportional ballot.
The Gen-Z shock and anti-establishment currents
The Gen-Z protests of 2025 were not simply a rejection of one government; they expressed deeper discontent with a political class perceived as unresponsive, corrupt and disconnected from digital-era citizens. Newer parties and independents have tried to channel this energy, presenting themselves as clean and disruptive alternatives.
Traditional alliances now face a double challenge. They must defend their record of managing a difficult federal transition while also convincing sceptical citizens that they have heard the message from the streets. Bringing younger faces into leadership, opening candidate selection and embracing transparency on fundraising are some of the ways alliances are attempting to respond.
Yet anti-establishment sentiment remains fragmented. Different groups prioritise different issues—digital freedoms, jobs, monarchy, secularism, federalism—and no single force has yet succeeded in unifying them. This fragmentation can paradoxically strengthen established alliances if disillusioned voters split among many small alternatives rather than coalescing behind one challenger.
Regional parties and the federal bargain
Regional parties in Madhes, Tharu-majority areas and other historically marginalised regions continue to hold leverage that exceeds their national vote share. For them, alliances are tools to push for concrete gains on citizenship rules, representation, language recognition and resource sharing, rather than ends in themselves.
In some constituencies, regional parties have struck deals with national allies to run joint candidates that symbolise both local identity and national inclusion. In others, they have chosen to go alone, betting that an independent show of strength will enhance their bargaining power in post-election negotiations.
How well the three big alliances handle these regional aspirations will affect not just seat counts but the durability of the federal bargain struck in the 2015 Constitution. If local grievances are ignored or instrumentalised, coalition governments may remain numerically stable but politically brittle.
Can alliances deliver stability?
One of the strongest public critiques of the post-2015 period has been the perception of chronic government instability, driven by shifting coalitions and intra-alliance mistrust. Voters are understandably sceptical of pre-election alliances that collapse as soon as arithmetic changes in the House.
For the 2026 election, alliances are promising more coherent common programmes and clearer mechanisms for resolving disputes. Some have agreed to written codes of conduct on power-sharing and internal consultation. But trust built on paper will still be tested by the pressures of office, leadership ambitions and the temptation to switch sides if numbers in the House are finely balanced.
Under the mixed system, it is unlikely that any single party will win an outright majority of the 275 seats. The question is therefore not whether alliances will matter, but which combinations can command both numerical strength and a perception of fairness among citizens.
What voters should watch
For citizens trying to make sense of a crowded and fluid party landscape, a few questions can help cut through the noise. First, how transparent is each alliance about its seat-sharing deals and its plan for managing disagreements after the vote? Second, do alliances reflect genuine policy convergence, or are they merely vehicles for distributing posts?
Third, how do alliances treat internal dissent and smaller partners: as disposable vote banks, or as stakeholders with voice and agency? And finally, do alliance manifestos and candidate choices respond to the core demands that drove the Gen-Z protests—dignity, accountability and digital-era freedoms—or simply repackage older slogans?
The answers will not be identical across the three big alliance poles. But taken together, they will determine whether the 2026 election marks a step toward more stable, responsive coalition politics—or simply inaugurates another cycle of shifting blocs under familiar faces.