This week, a younger stalwart of the Nepali Congress, Gagan Thapa, criticised the government for allowing “middlemen” to directly access the prime ministers’ bedroom.

A member of the coalition advisory mechanism, Thapa is under pressure to show his constituents, both inside and outside his party, that he can “deliver” results. Despite his late “realisation,” collusion between top leaders and corrupt operators of kleptocracy is not something new; it does not require you to have up close and personal relationship with the prime ministers.

Similarly, this week, Sumana Shrestha, a member of the federal parliament, resigned from her official position as the co-general secretary of the Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP). In her letter, she criticised party leaders for failing to meet people’s expectations as a party of, and party for, reforms.

These two incidents indicate that while old parties are incorrigible, newbies are also buckling under their own baggage.

Despite the challenges, it will be much easier for the RSP to become a viable political alternative in the short term than for the top three mainstream parties to reform and address issues of corruption and kleptocracy.

But for this to happen, the RSP should be able to set aside challenges related to its party president, Rabi Lamichhane, and convert the party into a well-thought-out institution deserving people’s aspirations for change.

For those who want to have the rule of law, efficient governance and an end to kleptocracy, there are only two solutions: Reform of mainstream parties or the emergence of clean and efficient new political parties.

The Communist Party of Nepal-Unified Marxist-Leninist (UML) could be a good option in the long term, but as of now, it is internally infested by middlemen and cronies. Despite entreaties by Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli, there are few reasons to trust that he will deliver development and good governance. On the other hand, even party insiders frequently complain about Oli’s everyday confidantes, who are solely focused on aligning procurements and appointments with their own interests.

Then there is the grand old party, the Nepali Congress. Once again, although it is difficult to generate hard evidence, individuals with first-hand experience report incidences of entrenched corruption, incapacity at the highest levels and obsession with kickbacks and extraction.

This is where young stalwarts like Gagan Thapa come into the picture. However, expecting the younger generation to cleanse the party, or establish a new democratic culture within the party and in the government is easier said than done. Although Thapa remains a potential option to deliver change, it is not certain when, and whether, that time will come.

Regarding the Communist Party of Nepal (Maoist Centre), there is even more uncertainty. As of now, the party is single-handedly run by Pushpa Kamal Dahal. Dahal and many of his close allies are implicated in serious instances of corruption and violations of the rule of law, including in the mismanagement of funds for Maoist cantonments, the Budhi Gandaki Hydropower Project and the Pokhara International Airport.

Dahal has positioned himself as an anti-corruption crusader, alleging the ruling coalition of being controlled by corrupt cronies and middlemen. But given his history, the party is incapable of delivering democracy, growth and the rule of law.

If the old parties can’t deliver, at least in the short term (5-10 years), then who can? As of now, the only possible option is the Rastriya Swatantra Party. Despite the tainted leadership and an anarchic following, the party still has the potential to reform and focus on transforming into the party it was meant to be.

The RSP’s strength lies in its formative fervour. When Rabi Lamichhane jumped into politics and forged the party, people were drawn to its promise of change. The party was able to inject young blood into the Nepali political landscape, drive an anti-corruption agenda and introduce a new political culture. The party was fueled and structured by ordinary people’s aspirations.

These assets, though gradually withering, are still there. The party still has the chance to revive and rejuvenate itself, but only if it can become free of Lamichhane’s shadow, break the bonds of hierarchy, and become a merit-based party of young doers.

Time is running out for the party. Nepal is a land where impunity is the norm. Of course, when Lamichhane was prosecuted, it was not because the rule of law was running its course, but because powerful politicians selectively targeted him. Otherwise, he would not have been the only major political figure to be prosecuted when bigger criminals are going unpunished.

This is not to say that Lamichhane is not wrong; he may well be. But by establishing a new political party, he did what many of the younger generation have failed to do in a long time: Capture people’s imagination through the RSP and be a serious contender in the electoral battle.

Now, it is time for the RSP to run a parallel course. Instead of being bogged down in Lamichhane’s quagmire of hopelessness, the party should focus on the next round of elections by emphatically pronouncing its political philosophy, providing a roadmap for economic development, and demonstrating that not only can it drive reforms in the government but also in the way a party is run.

Leaders in the party are mature enough to understand what such an agenda entails. They should now show courage to emerge out of the mess. They can let the law run its course on Lamichhane’s case, but make sure that the party is the master of its own destiny.

This is not to argue that the RSP is the only way out of our national quandary. This is an argument that it can still provide a viable option for the Nepali people when options are scarce. That it can still become an asset for our nation instead of becoming a liability.

If the RSP leaders don’t show courage now, we will only see young, energetic leaders with potential coming out with cries of help. Yes, what Gagan and Sumana are doing is crying out for help. It will be unfortunate if no one listens to them.