IT IS POSSIBLE to become a billionaire in Nepal without creating a product or taking a company public. It is also possible to write about that rise in a book without triggering any official scrutiny. Binod Chaudhary, Nepal’s self-proclaimed “first billionaire”, has done exactly that. His success is not proof of free markets at work. It shows what happens when government stalls and power acts as a shortcut to wealth. In such a system money grows not just from profits, but from connections, too.

Mr Chaudhary has never hidden how he built his fortune. “All you need to do is spend time with the right people,” he said. His rise took off at Copper Floor, a flashy Kathmandu nightclub he opened in the 1970s. It drew the city’s power brokers—royals, officials and business leaders—to drink, dance and make deals. By 1980 he was funding the palace’s referendum campaign. Two years later he gave half his steel business to the king’s brother. A generous move, he says, that changed everything.

Profits came fast. Import licences, government contracts and a light touch from regulators let the Chaudhary Group (CG) build a rare industrial base in a country with almost no manufacturing. From cement and cigarettes to telecoms and banking, CG now reaches into nearly every corner of Nepali business. Its most famous product, Wai Wai noodles, started as a way to use extra flour at a biscuit factory. Today more than two billion packets are sold a year, from Mumbai to Manila.

Nepal is a small stage, however, for ambitions of this scale. As the domestic market stalled and capital controls loosened, CG looked abroad, often to countries that make foreign investors nervous. The group has reportedly explored Iraq and Afghanistan, and built hotels across Africa and Southeast Asia. Mr Chaudhary calls heavily regulated markets “misfits” for his approach. Still, keeping a presence overseas gives CG a global sheen.

The group is deliberately complex. Many businesses remain private, though a few, like Nabil Bank, are publicly listed. An offshore takeover of the bank rattled the Nepal Rastra Bank, which hinted that Mr Chaudhary might have bent the rules. The deal went through. Today CG employs over 20,000 people across 202 companies and 261 brands.

Succession is built in. His eldest son runs the domestic businesses, where close ties to government are crucial in power and telecoms. Other family members handle hotels, infrastructure and overseas operations. Corporate governance exists, if at all, mostly managed internally.

Mr Chaudhary has not limited himself to whispers in the corridors of power. He sits in parliament as a Nepali Congress member and has advised governments of every stripe. He insists that politics and business should stay separate. Few careers show just how intertwined they really are.

His wealth draws attention as well as unease. Forbes puts it at $2 billion, up $200 million from last year, ranking him 1,889th in the world. In a country where GDP per capita is below $1,500, such sums do not inspire universal admiration. Critics accuse him of monopolies and rent-seeking. Mr Chaudhary calls it adaptation. “When institutions fail, relationships take their place,” he says. “When in Rome, do as the Romans do.”

His story reflects a wider regional pattern. In many emerging markets, money and political influence go hand in hand. Entrepreneurs work in shadows where connections matter more than innovation and careful judgment replaces formal rules. Empires expand less by disrupting incumbents than by becoming them.

CG now stretches across four time zones and more industries than most governments can oversee. Whether such empires can survive from one generation to the next is unclear. Plans for succession exist, but the real test will be operating in a world that demands clarity and punishes ambiguity.

The lesson remains. In Kathmandu, where thin mountain air dulls ambition and red tape blocks supply chains, those who can manage relationships rise fastest. Fifty years after opening his first nightclub, Mr Chaudhary is still Nepal’s top networker. One day governance may catch up. Until then influence drives the country’s growth. ■