Government's Responsibility: Beyond Rules to Citizen Welfare

The greatest strength of a republic is not the government, but the trust of the citizens. Elections form governments, but trust builds nations. A few years ago, the youth who took to the streets in favor of change had a dream in their eyes – that opportunities would be based on merit. Labor would be respected. The state would protect its citizens. The law would be equal for all, and governance would be accountable to the citizens.

Thousands of young people, with the national flag draped around their necks, chanting slogans of change, and carrying the hope of a new political culture, did not just dream of changing the government that day. They expected the style of governance to change. But today, that same generation is asking the most frequent question – is the country truly changing, or has only the scenery changed?

Stunts that go viral on social media, publicity-oriented activities, and decisions made for temporary popularity may gain attention for a while, but they do not build a nation. A nation is built when the answer lies in facts like how many jobs were created each day, how many youth saw a future in their homeland, how many industries were opened, how many farmers received fair prices for their produce, and how many sick people received timely treatment.

Today, the public is beginning to ask, how many jobs were created each day? How many youth got employment? If the government does not have a public list of such achievements, then publicity stunts cannot fill that void. The job of a government in a democracy is not to impress citizens; it is to improve citizens' lives. A nation is built by results, not by stunts.

Should citizens remain silent after seeing such a scene? Should they praise the government? Or should they conclude, 'The rules were broken, hence this happened'?

The recent self-immolation incident of Ganesh Nepali is not just the story of one person's death, but it raises serious questions about our state system, administrative sensitivity, and social psychology.

A common man, pushed to extreme despair by an excessively high traffic fine, commits self-immolation, and the sight of him being dragged from the street to the hospital in a half-burnt state is witnessed by millions of Nepalis. Should citizens remain silent after seeing such a scene? Should they praise the government? Or should they conclude, 'The rules were broken, hence this happened'?

Everyone understands that the state did not set the fire, nor did it intend to. But the state also has an equal moral responsibility in such incidents. When Prem Acharya self-immolated, the state did not pour kerosene and set him on fire. Yet, public outrage against the government was natural after that incident. This is because citizens expect not only the enforcement of laws from the state but also protection.

This is the fundamental principle of democracy – citizens pay taxes, obey the law, and follow rules; in return, the state guarantees their security, dignity, opportunity, and a minimum standard of living. This social contract gives legitimacy to the state. If, when a citizen reaches extreme despair, the state merely says, 'The rules should have been followed,' that response, while legal, is not humane. And the state can never evade its humanitarian responsibility.

We feel pain even if the vehicle taking us to the hospital is stopped for a few minutes; we fear it might be late. Therefore, the scene of a burnt citizen being dragged to the hospital in front of government bodies in the heart of the capital cannot be considered normal.

Another worrying aspect that emerged after this incident was the direction of public discourse. Many citizens felt that instead of exploring the cause of the suffering, a competition began to prove the victim's fault. The question arose – if the scene had involved an influential leader, a high official, or a powerful person, would our institutional response have been the same?

We feel pain even if the vehicle taking us to the hospital is stopped for a few minutes; we fear it might be late. Therefore, the scene of a burnt citizen being dragged to the hospital in front of government bodies in the heart of the capital cannot be considered normal. That scene did not just show an accident; it also showed the level of our sensitivity.

The true test of a democratic state is not how it treats its powerful citizens, but how it treats its most ordinary citizens. Nelson Mandela said, 'No one in the world, no one in history, has ever achieved anything by being a conformist.' Today, his words seem most relevant to Nepal's democratic journey.

This debate is not about the amount of a traffic fine. It is a debate about the growing despair among the youth, rising inflation, unemployment, lack of opportunities, and declining trust in the state. Millions of Nepali youth leave the country every year for foreign employment. The compulsion to go abroad is greater than the search for opportunities at home.

Inflation is rising, it is becoming difficult to sustain small businesses, and the daily lives of middle-class families are becoming more complex. In such a situation, the message from the state should be more sensitive, compassionate, and reassuring. But if the government's response appears more focused on proving the citizen's fault than on their suffering, it deepens dissatisfaction.

Rules must be followed by everyone. But rules are for citizens, not citizens for rules.

The government's job is not just to find fault; it is also to identify the root of the problem. A responsible government should review the fine system, the style of implementation, emergency health services, administrative behavior, and communication with citizens after such an incident. Self-reflection is not weakness; it is a sign of accountable governance.

The rule of law is the foundation of democracy. There is no dispute about this. Rules must be followed by everyone. But rules are for citizens, not citizens for rules. Laws worldwide have been amended according to time, evidence, and circumstances. That is the purpose of public debate and policy-making.

Otherwise, what would be the need for parliament, policy debates, and people's representatives? Furthermore, the enforcement of law must also be equal for all. If a laborer's motorcycle is wheel-locked and a fine of one thousand is issued, but vehicles deliberately stopped in front of media outlets are fined five hundred and sent home in the evening, it exposes the state's insensitivity.

Another serious question today relates to the perspective on dissent. The tendency to view media, civil society, or youth who criticize the government as enemies is not a good sign for democracy. In a democracy, criticism is not a government weakness, but an opportunity to improve the government.

Democracy is strengthened by listening to dissent, not by suppressing it. The culture of intimidating opposing voices through informal power groups, mob psychology, or social media weakens institutional democracy. History has repeatedly shown that when informal power centers become more active than institutions, civil liberties are the first to be at risk.

John F. Kennedy said, 'Leadership and learning are indispensable to each other.'

Many call the Gen Z generation impatient. But this generation's demands are not impossible. This generation seeks a future, not speeches. It seeks opportunities, not publicity. It seeks policy, not popularity. This generation is not asking for special privileges from the government; it is only asking for equal opportunities, fair treatment, and the basis for a dignified life. This generation, which stood for change, is once again reminding the state today – a nation is not built by slogans, it is built by the lives of its citizens.

John F. Kennedy said, 'Leadership and learning are indispensable to each other.' The greatest strength of leadership is not in being mistake-free; it is in being able to learn from mistakes. Only if the government, which has received the strongest mandate in history, can transform this opportunity into self-reflection will that mandate be honored.

A mandate is not an item to be spent on small publicity stunts; it is an opportunity to invest in generational reform. The people have not only given the government the right to rule; they have also given their trust. That trust is preserved not by harshness, but by humility. It is strengthened not by evading responsibility, but by accepting it.

Today's question is about what kind of state is being built. It is not just about how much fault Ganesh Nepali had; it is also about why a citizen reached such despair. The question is not about parking fines; it is about the psychology of a generation, the rising cost of living, the employment crisis, administrative behavior, and trust in the state.

History does not remember publicity, it remembers results. A nation is not built by stunts. A nation is built when the state is not only powerful but also sensitive. The law is not only strict but also just. The government is not only popular but also accountable. Even the common man should be able to believe that this state is theirs. The ultimate test of democracy is not in Singha Durbar, but in the lives of ordinary citizens walking on the street. Therefore, a nation is not built by stunts, friends!

(The author is an advocate.)