Nepal’s Gen Z

A week ago, I was drafting 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 islands of hope. One country that quickly came to mind was Nepal.

Nepal adopted a rather inclusive and radical constitution in 2015. Subsequent legal reforms gave civil society a formal role in developmental planning. The Local Government Operation Act of 2017 was a landmark law that required local governments to ensure inclusive and participatory planning. Tools such as 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.

Moreover, civil society groups participated in performance audits with the Office of the Auditor General, directly monitoring public service delivery and corruption, and publicly reporting their 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.

However, that optimism evaporated overnight.

News broke that 19 protesters had been killed after young demonstrators—self-identifying as Gen Z—took to the streets in protest against a sweeping social media ban. WhatsApp, Facebook, and Instagram—the virtual lifelines of a generation—were suddenly blocked.

What followed was rapid unraveling across the country.

A virtual uprising swept Nepal, marked by 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.

Several 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 the long-reigning monarchy was overthrown. 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 faced by Sri Lanka and Pakistan. Once boasting one of the highest social protection budgets in the region—around 6 percent of GDP—the country was forced to cut welfare allocations to address its debt crisis.

Per capita income remained among the lowest in the region, and youth unemployment was a significant challenge. Nepal is one of the youngest countries in Asia, with more than a fifth of its youth unemployed.

The young protesters distrusted the so-called independent media and targeted outlets they called corrupt. They stressed that their protest concerned rampant corruption and “nepo-kids” flaunting ostentatious lifestyles. The social media ban symbolized not only censorship but also the denial of the last tool young people had to organize against nepotism, corruption, and elite privilege.

So, how do we view this in the broader context of South Asia?

Nepal is the third country in the region to witness a youth-led mass uprising in recent times. We have already seen live-streamed, viral video takeovers of palatial residences belonging to 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, facing its first sovereign debt default, implemented massive welfare cuts. The youth movement there organized around the Aragalaya (Struggle) against economic collapse and government corruption. The protest site at Galle Face Green—dubbed Gota Go Gama—became a symbol of democratic resistance, uniting people across ethnic and religious divides.

Similarly, the uprising in Bangladesh began over a disputed job quota. In 2023, 40 percent of youth aged 15-29 were classified as NEET—not in employment, education, or training—with about 18 million young people out of work.

Looking at two of the region’s largest countries, Pakistan and India, the picture varies but remains troubling.

Pakistan, long troubled by debt, 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 promoting aggressive Hindutva nationalism.

Across these local contexts, common threads emerge: economic precarity, youth anger, distrust of political elites, and a widespread sense that the system is irredeemably corrupt.

Yet the outcomes remain uncertain.

Challenges persist, as evidenced by Bangladesh and Sri Lanka. 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 holds 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 class?

History is often rewritten in hindsight. Nepal’s abrupt turn from a model of participation to a theater of upheaval serves as a sobering reminder of how quickly hope can collapse.

Needless to say, I had to return to my first draft and rewrite the entire section.
https://www.thenews.com.pk/tns/detail/1345075-nepals-gen-z