
By Our Foreign Affairs Correspondent
The Balen Shah government has once again put Nepal’s claim over Lipulekh on the table, pushing back against India’s plan to open the Kailash Mansarovar route through the disputed pass with China. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs has sent formal notes to both New Delhi and Beijing, stating clearly that Limpiyadhura, Lipulekh and Kalapani fall within Nepal’s territory under the 1816 Sugauli Treaty. The message is straightforward: no activity in the area, whether trade, infrastructure or pilgrimage, should move ahead without Nepal’s consent.
India has responded in a familiar way. Its spokesperson Randhir Jaiswal dismissed Nepal’s position as inconsistent with what India considers historical facts. He pointed to the use of the Lipulekh route for the Kailash Mansarovar pilgrimage since 1954, presenting it as an established practice rather than a new development. At the same time, India described Nepal’s stance as unilateral, while still keeping the door open for dialogue. It’s a line Kathmandu has heard before.
From Nepal’s side, this goes beyond maps and competing readings of history. The issue cuts into questions of sovereignty and respect. Two larger neighbors have moved ahead with an understanding that touches disputed territory, without meaningful consultation. That is hard to brush off as a simple oversight. It looks more like a pattern, where Nepal’s concerns are acknowledged in statements but sidelined in practice.
The India-China understanding over Lipulekh feels less surprising for the cooperation itself and more for what it overlooks. When two countries operationalize a route through contested land without involving the third claimant, it raises an uncomfortable question about whose voice actually counts.
Nepal’s position is not new. It rests on the origin of the Mahakali River as defined by the Sugauli Treaty, backed by historical maps and administrative records. Different governments have repeated the same claim over the years. Yet each time Lipulekh appears in India-China discussions, Nepal finds itself repeating its stance, sending notes and asking to be included.
India’s argument about continuous use since 1954 carries some practical weight, but practice alone does not settle sovereignty. If it did, long-running arrangements could override formal treaties. Nepal sees this as a selective reading of history. India also points to its administrative control of the area since the 1962 war with China. That may explain the current situation, but it does not make the claim any less contested.
China adds another layer to the equation. Its responses to Nepal have generally been more measured, but its actions align with its agreements with India. For Kathmandu, that creates a difficult dynamic. It maintains friendly ties with both, yet gets left out when they coordinate on issues that touch its claimed territory.
This is not the first time this has happened. In 2015, India and China agreed to expand trade through Lipulekh, drawing a similar protest from Nepal. The response then was largely dismissive, and a decade later, little has changed. Nepal objects, India reiterates its stance, China proceeds cautiously, and the issue lingers without resolution.
That leaves Nepal with limited room to maneuver. It cannot escalate tensions with either neighbor, but it also cannot stay quiet on territorial matters. So it leans on diplomacy, calling for dialogue, bilateral mechanisms and evidence-based resolution. The tone remains measured, even when frustration builds underneath.
But diplomacy only works when it runs both ways. If one side keeps moving ahead on the ground while treating dialogue as a formality, trust begins to wear thin. Nepal’s position is simple enough: if a territory is disputed, no one should act unilaterally. That principle is not unusual in international relations. Applying it here would at least keep the situation from drifting further.
Public sentiment inside Nepal has grown sharper over time. Each episode feeds a wider sense of being overlooked by larger powers. That matters. Foreign policy does not sit in isolation. Domestic pressure shapes how far any government can bend or hold its ground.
In the end, Lipulekh is more than a mountain pass or a pilgrimage route. It has become a test of how a smaller country asserts its place between two bigger neighbors. Nepal is not asking for special treatment. It is asking to be part of decisions that affect its claimed territory and for its position to be taken seriously.
What happens next depends largely on how India and China respond. If they continue to rely on past practice and bilateral convenience, Nepal will keep raising the issue, one note at a time. Not out of habit, but because once a country steps back on questions of sovereignty, it rarely gets that ground back.







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