Ladakh Violence: 4 Dead In Protests, Calls For Dialogue And Non-Violence Amid Statehood Demand

The violence that shook Leh on Wednesday is unfortunate. No grievance, however genuine, can justify the loss of four lives, the torching of public property, or the injury of dozens of police personnel and protesters. What Ladakh witnessed was tragic—and avoidable.

There is no denying that the people of Ladakh are exercised over their demand for statehood. This is not a sudden outburst but a long-standing aspiration, dating back to the days of Sheikh Abdullah. When Ladakh was carved out of Jammu and Kashmir in 2019 and made a Union Territory, many saw it as only a halfway house to full statehood.

The Centre has indeed invested heavily in Ladakh’s infrastructure. Roads, communications, and basic facilities have improved significantly. Yet, for many Ladakhis, development is no substitute for political empowerment. Their demand is rooted in a sense of cultural identity and local control over land, jobs, and resources.

The question that remains is whether a sparsely populated region of 300,000 can realistically sustain a separate state. Leaders, past and present, have grappled with this. The late Kushak Bakula, the undisputed leader of Ladakhi Buddhists, did not extend his support to the idea of full statehood.

More recently, activist-engineer Sonam Wangchuk, whose innovative work brought him national recognition, has emerged as the face of the demand. His hunger strike gave visibility to the cause but also coincided with a disturbing outbreak of violence.

It is for the investigating agencies to determine whether he provoked the mob or whether frustration among unemployed youth spilled over into anger. He has denied responsibility and appealed for peace. Yet, history reminds us that true leadership requires the foresight to sense when passions are running beyond control. Mahatma Gandhi himself had called off agitations when they threatened to turn violent.

The tragedy should, therefore, serve as a sobering reminder: violence destroys more than it builds. The burning of offices and vehicles, the deaths of young men, and the tarnishing of an essentially peaceful movement will only make resolution harder.

Ladakh’s strength has always been in its composite culture—where Buddhists and Muslims, despite differing past aspirations, now speak in one voice for dignity and rights. That unity must not be allowed to fracture under the weight of anger.

Dialogue remains the only way forward. The committees already set up and the fresh round of talks scheduled should be pursued in good faith. Leaders must ensure that their followers do not stray from peaceful means. At the same time, citizens must recognise that negotiations, however slow, are more productive than street violence.

Ladakh is a land of unmatched beauty, strategic importance, and peace-loving people. Its future must rest on mutual trust, patient dialogue, and non-violence—the true path to peace and progress.
https://www.freepressjournal.in/analysis/ladakh-violence-4-dead-in-protests-calls-for-dialogue-and-non-violence-amid-statehood-demand

Azim Premji Declines Karnataka CM’s Request To Allow Public Vehicles Through Wipro Campus

**Wipro Founder Azim Premji Declines CM Siddaramaiah’s Request to Allow Vehicular Movement Through Company Campus**

*Bengaluru:* Wipro founder chairman Azim Premji has declined Chief Minister Siddaramaiah’s request to allow limited vehicular movement through the company’s Sarjapur campus in Bengaluru. Premji stated that the campus is exclusive private property owned by a listed company and is not meant to serve as a public thoroughfare.

Premji explained that permitting public vehicular movement through the Wipro campus would pose “significant legal, governance, and statutory challenges.”

On September 19, Chief Minister Siddaramaiah had written to Premji exploring “the possibility of allowing limited vehicular movement through the Wipro campus, subject to mutually agreed terms and necessary security considerations.” He noted that preliminary assessments by traffic and urban mobility experts indicated such a measure could reduce congestion on adjoining stretches of the Outer Ring Road (ORR) by nearly 30%, especially during peak office hours.

In his letter, Siddaramaiah emphasized, “Your support in this matter will go a long way in easing traffic bottlenecks, enhancing commuter experience, and contributing to a more efficient and livable Bengaluru. I would greatly appreciate it if your team could engage with our officials to work out a mutually acceptable plan at the earliest.”

Responding on Wednesday, Premji appreciated the Chief Minister’s leadership on addressing Bengaluru’s critical traffic congestion but highlighted the challenges involved.

“With respect to the specific suggestion of allowing public vehicular movement through our Sarjapur campus, we apprehend significant legal, governance, and statutory challenges since it is an exclusive private property owned by a listed company not intended for public thoroughfare,” he wrote.

He further added that the Sarjapur campus is a Special Economic Zone (SEZ) providing services to global customers. As a result, contractual obligations mandate stringent, non-negotiable access control norms for governance and compliance.

Premji noted that public vehicular movement through private property is unlikely to be an effective, sustainable long-term solution.

“Wipro nevertheless stands committed to partner with the Government of Karnataka to find a lasting solution for Bengaluru’s mobility challenges,” he affirmed, emphasizing the importance of a collaborative and data-driven approach for the city’s best interests.

Highlighting the urgency of the traffic situation, especially along the Outer Ring Road — a major export-oriented economic hub — Premji acknowledged the complexity of the problem. “The problem’s complexity, stemming from multiple factors, suggests that there is unlikely to be a single point solution or a silver bullet to resolve it,” he observed.

He proposed commissioning a comprehensive, scientific study conducted by an entity with world-class expertise in urban transport management. This study would help develop a holistic roadmap featuring effective solutions for the short, medium, and long term.

“To demonstrate our commitment to being a part of the solution, Wipro will be pleased to engage in this process and underwrite a significant portion of the cost for this expert study,” Premji added.

The Outer Ring Road has long been plagued by severe traffic congestion and poor road conditions, making daily commutes challenging. The issue gained attention when BlackBuck CEO and co-founder Rajesh Yabaji publicly announced on social media platform ‘X’ that his company would relocate from the ORR (Bellandur area). He cited the average commute time increasing by one-and-a-half hours one way, along with roads full of potholes and dust.

Yabaji lamented the “lowest intent to get them rectified” and expressed skepticism about any improvement, stating, “Didn’t see any of this changing in the next 5 years.”

*Note: Except for the headline, this article has not been edited by FPJ’s editorial team and is auto-generated from an agency feed.*
https://www.freepressjournal.in/business/azim-premji-declines-karnataka-cms-request-to-allow-public-vehicles-through-wipro-campus

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

Nepal’s Gen Z

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

Nepal’s Gen Z

A week ago, I was writing the first draft for a research report on growing inequality in Asia and how it is linked to increasing state repression of civic freedoms. Amidst the largely desolate landscape of state crackdowns and draconian laws across the region, I went looking for islands of hope. One that came to mind quickly was Nepal.

The country had adopted a rather inclusive and radical constitution in 2015. Subsequent law reforms included giving civil society a formal role in developmental planning. The Local Government Operation Act, 2017, was a landmark law that required local governments to ensure inclusive and participatory planning. Ward committees, social audits, public hearings, and citizen scorecards were used regularly to engage the public and civil society organisations 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 the country as partly free, noted with satisfaction the country’s real progress in media freedom, local protest rights, and inclusive development.

That optimism evaporated overnight as news broke of 19 protesters killed after young demonstrators—self-identifying as Gen Z—took to the streets against a sweeping social media ban. WhatsApp, Facebook, Instagram—the virtual lifelines of a generation—were suddenly blocked.

Things unraveled quickly thereafter, leading to a virtual uprising across the country, mass-scale arson, and destruction of public institutions, including the Parliament, Supreme Court, five-star hotels, private residential quarters of the rich and famous, as well as politicians across party lines. Anarchy had been let loose.

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 beaten publicly; and the government was gone.

Certain facts stand out. It took the killing of just 19 people to topple a government—the 14th to fall since 2008, when a long-reigning monarchy fell. The outgoing prime minister, KP Oli, was thrice sworn into power. As governments changed, there was a perception that the political parties were playing musical chairs.

Despite all the so-called progressive reforms mentioned earlier, the country was spiraling deeper into a debt crisis similar to Sri Lanka and Pakistan. The country that had had a social protection budget among the highest in the region (around 6 percent of GDP) was forced to cut welfare allocations to meet its debt crisis. Per capita income remained among the lowest in the region.

Nepal is one of the youngest countries in Asia. More than a fifth of the youth are unemployed. The young protestors didn’t trust the so-called independent media institutions and attacked those calling them corrupt.

The protestors were at pains to stress that their protest had more to do with rampant corruption and “nepo-kids” flaunting their ostentatious lifestyles. They said the social media ban symbolised not only censorship but also the denial of the last tool young people had to organise against nepotism, corruption, and ostentatious elite privilege.

So how do we look at the bigger picture in South Asia?

Nepal is the third country in the region to fall witness to a youth-led mass uprising. We have already seen live-streamed viral video takeovers of palatial residences of virtual monarchs like Rajapaksa and Sheikh Hasina. In all these cases, the uprising coincided with the decline of macro-economic indicators.

Sri Lanka, for the first time, defaulted on a sovereign debt payment and there were massive welfare cuts. The youth movement then organised itself around Aragalaya (Struggle) against economic collapse and government corruption. The protest site at Galle Face Square, called 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, look at two big 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 one hand, has seen Prime Minister Modi’s iron hand crushing political opposition and, on the other, has sought to channel the frustration of its young people into targeting minorities and espousing an aggressive Hindutva nationalism.

Across local contexts, common threads emerge: economic precarity, youth anger, distrust of political elites, and the sense that the system is irredeemably corrupt. Yet, the outcomes remain uncertain.

There are ongoing challenges, if Bangladesh’s and Sri Lanka’s examples are to go by. Under IMF pressure, the elected government in Sri Lanka has not altered its grim debt trajectory. The political situation is far from settled in Bangladesh where elections are yet to take place as an ageing Nobel Laureate is holding the fort. Nepal has followed Dhaka’s lead in turning to a retired Supreme Court judge to head its caretaker government.

The larger question is: how will the 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 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 re-write the entire section.
https://www.thenews.com.pk/tns/detail/1345075-nepals-gen-z