A week ago, I was writing the first draft of a research report on growing inequality in Asia and its link to increasing state repression of civic freedoms. Amidst the largely desolate landscape of state crackdowns and draconian laws across the region, I sought out islands of hope. One that quickly came to mind was Nepal.
The country had adopted a rather inclusive and radical constitution in 2015. Subsequent legal reforms included giving civil society a formal role in developmental planning. The Local Government Operation Act of 2017 was a landmark law requiring local governments to ensure inclusive and participatory planning. Ward committees, social audits, public hearings, and citizen scorecards were regularly used to engage the public and civil society organizations in municipal budgeting, project selection, and oversight.
Civil society groups also participated in performance audits with the Office of the Auditor General, directly monitoring public service delivery and corruption, and publicly reporting findings. Even Freedom House, which rated Nepal as partly free, noted with satisfaction the country’s real progress in media freedom, local protest rights, and inclusive development.
That optimism, however, evaporated overnight. News broke that 19 protesters were killed after young demonstrators—self-identifying as Gen Z—took to the streets against a sweeping social media ban. WhatsApp, Facebook, and Instagram—the virtual lifelines of a generation—were suddenly blocked.
Things unraveled quickly thereafter, leading to a virtual uprising across the country. There was mass-scale arson and destruction of public institutions, including the Parliament, Supreme Court, five-star hotels, private residences of the rich and famous, and politicians’ homes across party lines. Anarchy had been unleashed.
Even as the army finally took charge of the streets, by the time things settled, more than 70 people were dead. Senior politicians had been publicly beaten, and the government was gone.
Certain facts stand out from this upheaval. It took the killing of just 19 people to topple a government—the 14th to fall since 2008, when a long-reigning monarchy collapsed. The outgoing prime minister, KP Oli, had been sworn into power three times. As governments changed, there was a perception that political parties were merely playing musical chairs.
Despite the so-called progressive reforms mentioned earlier, Nepal was spiraling deeper into a debt crisis similar to those of Sri Lanka and Pakistan. The country, which had maintained one of the highest social protection budgets in the region (around 6 percent of GDP), was forced to cut welfare allocations to meet its debt obligations. Per capita income remained among the lowest in the region.
Nepal is one of the youngest countries in Asia. More than a fifth of its youth are unemployed. The young protesters did not trust the so-called independent media institutions and attacked those labeling them corrupt.
The optimism disappeared promptly as the social media ban ignited unrest. The protesters emphasized that their demonstrations were more about rampant corruption, nepotism, and the ostentatious lifestyles of “nepo-kids” than just censorship. They viewed the social media ban as not only a tool of censorship but also the denial of their last means to organize against nepotism, corruption, and elite privilege.
So, how should we view the bigger picture in South Asia?
Nepal is the third country in the region to witness a youth-led mass uprising. We have already seen live-streamed viral videos capturing the takeover of palatial residences of virtual monarchs like Rajapaksa in Sri Lanka and Sheikh Hasina in Bangladesh. In all these cases, the uprisings coincided with declining macroeconomic indicators.
Sri Lanka, for example, defaulted on a sovereign debt payment for the first time, leading to massive welfare cuts. The youth movement organized itself under the banner of *Aragalaya* (Struggle) against economic collapse and governmental corruption. The protest site at Galle Face Square, known as *Gotta Go Gama*, became a symbol of democratic resistance, uniting people across ethnic and religious divides.
The uprising in Bangladesh began over a disputed job quota. In 2023, 40 percent of the youth aged 15-29 were classified as NEET (not in employment, education, or training). It was estimated that about 18 million young people were out of work.
Now, consider two large countries in the region. Pakistan, long troubled by its debt burden, has suppressed mass political protests in recent years. Its principal opposition leader remains in jail. India, on the other hand, has seen Prime Minister Modi’s iron hand crushing political opposition while channeling youth frustration into targeting minorities and espousing aggressive Hindutva nationalism.
Across these local contexts, common threads emerge: economic precarity, youth anger, distrust of political elites, and the pervasive sense that the system is irredeemably corrupt.
Yet the outcomes remain uncertain. There are ongoing challenges, if we take Bangladesh’s and Sri Lanka’s examples as warnings. Under IMF pressure, Sri Lanka’s elected government has not altered its grim debt trajectory. The political situation in Bangladesh remains unsettled, with elections yet to take place as an aging Nobel Laureate continues to hold the fort. Nepal has followed Dhaka’s lead by appointing a retired Supreme Court judge to head its caretaker government.
The larger question is: how will these battered societies rebuild trust in their political classes?
History is often rewritten in hindsight. Nepal’s abrupt turn from a model of participation to a theatre of upheaval is a sobering reminder of how quickly hope can collapse.
Needless to say, I had to go back to my first draft and rewrite the entire section.
https://www.thenews.com.pk/tns/detail/1345075-nepals-gen-z