When Fire Meets Feed: Reflections on Nepal’s Gen‑Z Uprising

I have been watching the footage from Kathmandu with that double feeling reserved for a citizen who is both curious and alarmed. What began as outrage over a sudden social‑media restriction has become something larger — and far more dangerous. In a matter of days protests swelled, ministers’ homes and party offices were torched, Parliament and the Supreme Court were vandalised, and Prime Minister K.P. Sharma Oli resigned amid the chaos "Nepal protests: Mob attacks ministers, vandalises Parliament, sets SC on fire - top 10 videos of chaos".

The basic facts are now familiar: a nationwide ban on major platforms sparked street demonstrations; clashes with security forces left scores dead and many injured; the ban was lifted but the momentum of anger continued; ministers and party offices resigned or were attacked; Oli stepped down amid the unrest and the army was deployed as curfews followed Times Now, ABP Live, News18.

What this felt like to me

I find two overlapping stories in these images and reports — one technological, one generational. The technological story is obvious: in 2025 a decision to sever or restrict digital public squares no longer interrupts only entertainment; it interrupts civic speech, networks that safety‑net communities rely on, and channels that amplify grievance into collective action. When governments attempt to silence these channels, they are not just turning off apps — they are destroying lines of communication, and often the trust that keeps fragile democracies intact.

The generational story is equally important. This wave is being described as ‘Gen‑Z’ led for a reason: a cohort raised on connectivity, transparency, and expectations of meritocracy. Their patience with opaque institutions, dynastic politics and perceived corruption is low. That impatience — when combined with a digital ability to organise and mobilise — can be electrifying, as it has been in other parts of South Asia and beyond [News18, Times Now].

The paradox of digital power

Social media is both a megaphone and a mirror. It amplifies injustice and it accelerates narrative formation. That same amplification explains two simultaneous outcomes we keep seeing:

• Rapid mobilisation and high visibility — enabling ordinary citizens to coordinate and to make grievances public instantly.
• Rapid escalation, misinformation, and performative spectacle — which can transform protests into violence faster than institutions can respond responsibly.

Nepal’s ban intended to curb misinformation and hate speech — legitimate concerns in any polity — yet the sudden blackout removed channels that otherwise allowed peaceful coordination and accountability. In a country where trust in institutions was already weak, the ban acted as a catalyst rather than a brake [Times Now].

Parallels across the region — and why they matter

The pattern in Nepal shares DNA with other youth‑led movements in South Asia: a core of young people frustrated with corruption and elite capture; a precipitating policy or incident; and then an eruptive mobilisation that challenges the legitimacy of established parties. Observers have pointed to similarities with unrest elsewhere, where young people grew unwilling to accept opaque power structures [News18]. When a generation feels talked at rather than listened to, politics becomes performative and explosive.

Violence as a double‑edged sword

I want to be clear: anger is not the same as violence, and legitimising grievance does not mean excusing property destruction or attacks on individuals. When protests burn Parliament or private homes, they cross a line that weakens their moral claim. Violence delegitimises grievances by giving opponents the cover to portray the movement as lawless. It also destroys the very public goods — functioning courts, emergency services, administrative records — that ordinary people rely upon.

At the same time, heavy handed state responses that produce casualties fuel cycles of revenge and martyrdom. Nepal saw both dynamics play out: deadly clashes with security forces were reported, and then violent reprisals followed [ABP Live, Times Now]. The result is a spiralling breakdown of trust.

What this crisis exposes about governance

Three structural weaknesses stand out to me:

• Institutional credibility is fragile. When people believe corruption is systemic, even the most well‑meaning reforms look like tokenism.
• Communication failures are dangerous. Shutting down information channels rarely restores calm; it tends to reshape the battlefield where grievances are fought.
• Intergenerational disconnects are widening. Young citizens are less tolerant of old norms that protected elites.

These are not unique to Nepal. But they are acute there now, and short‑term fixes like a resignation or cabinet reshuffle are unlikely to be sufficient without deeper reforms.

The role of social media — liberator, accelerator, and teacher

There is a temptation to treat social platforms as either purely emancipatory or purely malign. The truth is more nuanced.

• Social media lowered the barrier to collective action: it helps people find each other, bear witness, and coordinate peacefully.
• It also accelerates rumor propagation and spectacle; instantaneous visibility can reward outrage rather than deliberation.
• Bans or sudden restrictions are blunt instruments; they remove both poison and antidote. In Nepal, the ban was a trigger because it was perceived as censorship in the face of legitimate dissent [Times of India, Times Now].

If social platforms are to remain part of democratic life, governments must learn to regulate with precision — pairing transparency rules, local grievance mechanisms, and digital literacy — rather than deploying blanket shutdowns that stoke suspicion.

A final, quieter worry

As I watch these events, I think about stories that do not make the headlines: the daily life interrupted, the businesses that will struggle after smoke clears, the children who will have seen guns and fire, and the bureaucrats who will now have less public legitimacy. Democratic resilience is built in those quieter spaces — schools, courts, municipalities — not only in squares where banners fly.

I am sympathetic to the urgency of youth to seek accountability and reform. I am equally wary of the intoxicating logic of immediate action that can validate itself by increasing spectacle. For change that endures, legitimacy must be rebuilt through credible institutions, not only through spectacular ruptures.

Closing thought

History rewards movements that convert energy into institutions. The challenge for Nepal — and for every country where young people are refusing the old bargains — is to transform righteous anger into durable change without allowing violence to hollow out the moral case. That transformation is the hardest work of any revolution: messy, boring, incremental — and ultimately decisive.

I’d like to hear your perspective: how do you see the role of social media in enabling change without enabling chaos? How should governments and youth recalibrate the relationship between digital platforms and political life?

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Regards,
Hemen Parekh