Ramesh Pokhrel
In Nepal, a youth revolt has toppled a prime minister, sparked digital resistance across the country, and ushered in the country’s first woman-led interim government. The country’s future, however, will be decided by the upcoming elections in January — and by whether a disorganized resistance movement can turn its street power into real political change.
Mandala, from Pokhara to Dharan, the nation’s youngest citizens erupted in anger — not merely in response to their government, but in response to a political system they believed had failed them for decades.
Quickly, the protests spread beyond the digital space and flooded the streets, as state- sanctioned internet restrictions — initially meant to stifle dissent — only fueled the movement’s growth. What followed was a watershed moment in Nepal’s post-monarchy political history: the ![]()
collapse of Prime Minister K.P. Sharma Oli’s administration on September 9. It was the first time a youth-driven movement, organized primarily through
decentralized online platforms, had forced a sitting government to resign.
The Promise of Reform Has Faded
The uprising — now dubbed the Gen-Z revolution — was more than a protest. It was an indictment of ![]()
corruption, unemployment, and state negligence in a fragile democracy. In a country where over half the population is under 30, it exposed the contradictions between a generation raised on global connectivity and an elite clinging to analog governance.
By 2025, the promise of the 2015 Constitution — once hailed as a progressive blueprint for a new federal democracy — had faded. Instead, ![]()
federalism had devolved into a scramble for resources among provincial elites, and the major parties — the Communist Party of Nepal, the Nepali Congress, and the Maoist Centre — had increasingly turned into entrenched
patronage networks.![]()
As evidenced by the ![]()
Bertelsmann Transformation Index (BTI), Nepal made little to no progress during this time on indicators such as “party system,”
“performance of democratic institutions” and “prosecution of office abuse.” For decades, accountability mechanisms remained weak, and allegations of office misconduct were rarely investigated or prosecuted in a consistent, institutionalized manner, reinforcing a culture of impunity among political elites.
As a result, Nepal’s educated, tech-savvy, and globally connected Gen-Z was increasingly disillusioned. The generation faced a collapsing job market, rampant corruption, and an
education system plagued by politicization and outdated curricula. Yet it also had tools no previous generation possessed. By early 2025, ![]()
internet penetration had reached 73 percent,
with over 14.3 million active social-media users, according to the Nepal Telecommunications Authority — and young Nepalis used their newfound power. In the digital realm, they built
communities that transcended party lines and provincial borders, where ideas of accountability and transparency thrived even as governance stagnated.
Curfews, Crowds, and Oli’s Resignation
The immediate trigger for escalation came in late August 2025, when the Oli government announced ![]()
amendments to the Information Technology and Cybersecurity Act. The proposed law granted the state sweeping powers to monitor online activity, block “anti- national content,” and detain individuals for “spreading misinformation.” Critics saw it as a
draconian attempt to suppress dissent ahead of planned protests over unemployment and inflation.
When the government then ![]()
restricted access to 26 social-media platforms on September 4 — including Facebook, YouTube, and X — the hashtag #FreeTheNetNepal began trending.
Virtual outrage spilled into the streets, with protesters waving posters reading “Digital freedom is our democracy.” By September 8, more than 400 protesters had been detained
and videos of police officers beating students went viral. That very night, a decentralized coalition emerged, leaderless but coordinated, organizing through VPNs and private servers.
A day later, Kathmandu resembled a city under siege. Curfews were imposed, but crowds defied them. Demonstrations spread to Pokhara, Biratnagar, Nepalgunj, and Dhangadhi, and
the Oli administration — initially ![]()
deploying riot police — soon realized it was fighting a losing battle. Three cabinet ministers resigned, and the opposition parties found rare unity in
demanding the prime minister’s resignation. Even the Nepal Army turned its back on the government, signaling reluctance to intervene and insisting the protests constituted no
“national security threat.” On September 9, Oli ![]()
resigned. Three days later, President Ram Chandra Paudel dissolved the cabinet and, following consultations with political leaders and civil-society representatives, appointed former Chief Justice Sushila Karki to head an interim technocratic government. An Anti-Corruption Campaigner Takes Office Sushila Karki is the first woman to serve as Nepal’s ![]()
prime minister. Even before her appointment, she was respected for her independence and her rulings against corruption. Her nonpartisan image made her acceptable both to the political establishment and to youth
protesters demanding accountability.
Her government immediately made its three-point mandate clear, further cementing this image. Karki announced that her task would be to stabilize the country, investigate state violence and corruption, and organize ![]()
free and fair elections by March 5, 2026. As one of her first steps, she repealed the amendments to the Cybersecurity Act and ordered the release of detained protesters. Internet access was fully restored, and her administration created the Digital Accountability Commission, a body tasked with regulating online spaces transparently rather than repressively. In her first national address, Karki declared, “We will restore order through law, not fear. We will rebuild with transparency, not corruption.”
Reconstructing a Broken State
So far, Karki has stayed true to that promise, governing through dialogue rather than decree. She has met with the chief ministers of all seven provinces, securing cooperation for the
upcoming elections, and she convened a historic ![]()
tripartite dialogue involving established political parties, Gen-Z representatives, and government officials, in which thirteen youth
delegates presented proposals for education reform, transparency in digital governance, and youth-employment programs.
Meanwhile, reconstruction has ![]()
begun at the local level. More than 90 percent of destroyed police posts have been rebuilt through community participation, and civil-society groups
have initiated volunteer drives to clean and rebuild damaged neighborhoods of Kathmandu and Pokhara. Karki’s administration also launched a National Integrity Audit, investigating
the misuse of development funds under the previous government, and suspended several high-profile bureaucrats. Estimates suggest that corruption under Oli caused damage
exceeding 150 trillion Nepalese rupees — roughly four times Nepal’s annual national budget. On elections, progress has also been made: As of late 2025, the Nepali Election Commission
confirmed that preparations for the March 5, 2026 parliamentary election were nearly complete. According to reporting, over 90 percent of ![]()
electoral logistics are in place, though
the inclusion of Nepalis abroad remains unresolved due to technical constraints.
Painful Renewal Instead of the Death of Democracy
Still, the road ahead for Karki — and for the country — will be fraught with political and practical ![]()
challenges. Since the protests, unemployment — already at a record high of 17
percent — has risen further as many businesses shut down. The National Planning Commission has warned that without rapid reforms, the country might face an exodus of
one million workers per year, many of whom are increasingly seeking a more viable future abroad.
The greater challenge, however, is political legitimacy. While the traditional Nepali parties face unprecedented distrust, the Gen-Z movement remains politically unstructured. Whether it can translate street energy into organized electoral participation remains uncertain. A positive sign is that Karki herself has urged them to institutionalize, and discussions are underway to form a new youth-led alliance — tentatively called the ![]()
Citizen Justice Front — aiming to blend digital activists, student leaders, and independent mayors. If successful, this coalition could pose a real challenge to Nepal’s major parties for the first
time in decades.
Already, it is clear that the 2026 elections will be Nepal’s most consequential vote since 1990 — not just a contest for power, but a decision about its future. If the Karki government
manages transparent reconstruction and a fair election, Nepal could emerge stronger. If it succumbs to old habits, the cycle may repeat. As of November 2025, Nepal stands at a crossroads — battered, poorer, but politically awakened. It is now up to the interim government and civil society to create a future in which the 2025 uprising is remembered not as the death of democracy but as the beginning of renewal — a necessary fire through which a disillusioned nation began, once again, to
dream of fairness, dignity, and reform.
*Ramesh Pokhrel is an investigative journalist based in Kathmandu.
