Friday, April 24, 2026
News and Views from the Global South
NEPAL: ‘Voting on Discord Was a Very Gen Z Way of Doing Politics’
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CIVICUS discusses Gen Z-led protests in Nepal with Abhijeet Adhikari (Abhi), a lawyer and political activist who took part in the protests.
Abhijeet Adhikari
What drove young people onto the streets, and what were their demands?
Since this protest was decentralised, there was no uniform agenda but rather a pile of frustrations with the workings of the political system.
A decade ago, Nepal introduced a new federal democratic constitution that people saw as a new beginning that would lead to development and better living conditions. But politicians didn’t live up to those aspirations and instead played a game of musical chairs with the post of prime minister, with a few politicians from the three biggest political parties taking turns and not allowing new parties or people in their own parties to rise against them. There was no clear separation between government and opposition, and five or six governments would rotate in quick succession during one parliamentary term. It was hard to hold anybody accountable.
Nepal’s economy is highly dependent on remittances sent by migrant workers, and following high school, every young person thinks about where to go to find a job or a better life. This went on for years, and frustration with politicians who only thought about their own benefit continued to accumulate.
The trigger was the government social media ban. Following a trend in Bangladesh and Sri Lanka, young people had started comparing their lives with those of politicians’ kids, and a trend called ‘nepokids’ exposing their lavish lifestyle went viral on TikTok. It seems that security agencies advised the then-prime minister that things might get out of control, so he decided to ban the platforms. He didn’t realise our generation was born with the internet and social media, meaning we know how to use VPNs to access the web. The ban only added another layer of frustration at not being able to express our frustration.
Once we were on the streets, we organised our demands. The first was the reversal of the social media ban. The second was an end to the musical chairs game between top-tier politicians. And the third was reform of the Commission for Investigation of Abuse of Authority, the institution that deals with corruption.
We tried to put all of this in language young people would connect with. We used AI tools to generate Gen Z-friendly slogans, such as ‘delete corruption’ and ‘stop putting filters on our democracy’. People also brought anime-inspired posters, particularly One Piece characters. The whole aesthetic was very uniquely Gen Z.
How did events unfold on 8 and 9 September?
We gathered at Maitighar Mandala, a symbolic monument located in the heart of Kathmandu, and planned to march to the Everest Hotel, which is the closest you could get to the parliament building, as the streets beyond the hotel were blocked. When we arrived, we were surprised there were very few security personnel there. We didn’t know that earlier, people had come towards parliament from various sides, with electric fence-cutting machines and kerosene. A few violent groups pushed the crowd towards restricted areas. The police, who weren’t prepared to handle the crowds, panicked and started shooting at protesters. Within four hours, they killed 19 people, including children, some of them in their school uniforms.
Before the protest, there had been rumours of international rules prohibiting shooting at people in school uniforms, and many people thought that if students marched in front, police wouldn’t shoot at them. That sadly wasn’t the case.
The next day, people took to the streets again, and some opportunist groups did too. Someone put up a website with politicians’ home addresses, and mobs marched to their homes and set them on fire. They also burned down government buildings, including parliament, executive offices and the Supreme Court.
The prime minister resigned and protesters pushed for the dissolution of parliament, which the president then did. Following further pressure on social media and in critical circles, a retired Supreme Court judge was brought in as transitional prime minister. Even though this was not the constitutional process, people accepted it as a temporary solution to regain political stability, and it was this prime minister who paved the way to a peaceful and fair election.
How were the protests organised, and what role did social media play?
Protests were decentralised. Two Discord channels were used, which no longer exist because all those violent plans, arson included, were discussed there. But only around 2,000 people were on Discord before the protest, and many more groups joined spontaneously. Those who were already activists posted about the protests on social media.
Some of us joined as a group, and thought we were at the centre of it, but when we reached Maitighar, we felt like drops in the ocean. It was a massive protest, and we didn’t know who was leading it.
The day before, we had got together and planned, and many other groups did the same. We shared the call through Instagram and TikTok. Some went to schools and asked school departments to give a half-day waiver so students could join.
After the protest, the Discord channel grew to around 10,000 people, who started voting on Discord for who should become prime minister. The person who received the most votes on Discord eventually became prime minister. It was a very Gen Z way of doing politics.
However, I think ‘youth-led’ would be a more appropriate label than Gen Z protest. Gen Z might be accurate from the perspective of social media driving it. But while people in the city who have access to the internet may have Gen Z characteristics, the same age group in rural Nepal may not fit the description.
What risks did you and other protesters face?
On the first day, when we reached the Everest Hotel and saw the crowd push further, I was aware I should not go beyond that point. But when we heard on social media that people were entering the parliament building, we ran through another alley. A special task force police officer, there to guard the parliament building, loaded his gun and pointed it directly at me. But he didn’t fire.
After the protest turned violent, the police searched every place where protesters could be hiding, taking people out and beating them. From around noon un late night, eight or nine of us hid in a cubicle. It was dangerous to go back home, because there were lots of police in civilian clothes on the streets. During those two or three days when the army had effectively taken over and there was no functioning government, we had reason to believe our phones were being monitored.
Now there are people in prison and facing criminal charges for throwing stones or making TikTok content while the parliament building was burning. But those who manipulated the crowds and instigated violence supposedly in the name of the movement do not seem to be facing consequences.
How has the movement organised since the protests?
After the protest, people from different circles started forming their own Gen Z groups. There are over 40 now. A few of them, including Gen Z Alliance, Gen Z Civic Forum and Gen Z Front, are still active. Some have remained informal, some have registered as non-governmental organisations and some have formed political parties, although they didn’t receive a significant share of the vote. These are the ones who positioned themselves as guardians of the Gen Z movement, but not in terms of the aspirations and values we actually had.
People continue to take to the streets because the Karki Commission, formed to investigate who is responsible for the 19 deaths on 8 September and for the arson and vandalism on 9 September, has submitted a huge report, but the government has not yet released it. This has happened before: in the 1990s, when democracy was restored, a similar committee, the Malik Commission, produced a similar report that was never made public. In the 2006 transition, the report by the Rayamajhi Commission wasn’t made public either. People won’t have it again and are demanding transparency.
What did the protests achieve, and what lessons have you taken from them?
I believe more in institutions and processes than in charismatic figures and results. So I think it would have been best not to dissolve parliament. By the second day of protests, we could have pushed for any law we wanted, because parliamentarians’ morale was so low that they would have agreed to almost anything protesters demanded. Instead, we demanded the dissolution of parliament.
Negotiations should have been held mostly by the president’s office as the only legitimate institution after the prime minister’s resignation, but instead, the army dominated negotiations. That was another blunder. The negotiation process itself should have been taken into public discussion. After that, the focus should have been on reforming the party system and making the system more accountable, but instead, we thought everything would change if new people were brought in. The problem is that the new will eventually become old, and any new party that doesn’t create radically different structures will end up like the old political parties.
I also think that when it comes to protest, organised leadership is best, because in decentralised structures no one can be held accountable if things go wrong. Also, they allow people to push their own agendas and the real demands of protests risk being lost.
Additionally, I am concerned that while bottom-up protests arising from rural areas may produce more inclusive and progressive results, urban-centred protests arising in reaction to governance failure and lack of economic opportunity may end up leading to polarisation and the rise of authoritarian figures. After this protest, political dynamics have shifted towards delivery. People have started demanding meritocracy, forgetting all about inclusion. Even if this government successfully delivers on people’s aspirations, it could be like the government in India, providing good infrastructure but dismantling political institutions, disrupting the social fabric and promoting religious extremism.
How do you see the future of Nepal’s democracy?
Right now, people have put their expectations and trust in a single person, while trust in institutions is shrinking by the day. Even civil society has lost credibility. Two decades ago, civil society was at the forefront of the change that took Nepal from monarchy to republic. But gradually, civil society leaders have been discredited. Civil society is mostly a launching pad for politics; people don’t remain there for long. Most prominent civil society leaders have become members of parliament for one party or another.
If this government fails, people will start thinking about bringing back the old monarch. Authoritarian nostalgia will take over. I am also concerned about political radicalisation taking on ethnic or religious dimensions, particularly given the fundamentalist elements active along the border with India.
As for the protests, I think the government will continue to allow people to come out in the street, but it won’t listen to our demands.
CIVICUS interviews a wide range of civil society activists, experts and leaders to gather diverse perspectives on civil society action and current issues for publication on its CIVICUS Lens platform. The views expressed in interviews are the interviewees’ and do not necessarily reflect those of CIVICUS. Publication does not imply endorsement of interviewees or the organisations they represent.
SEE ALSO
Gen Z protests: new resistance rises CIVICUS | State of Civil Society Report 2026
Nepal’s Gen Z electoral revolution CIVICUS Lens 19.Mar.2026
Nepal’s Gen Z uprising: time for youth-led change CIVICUS Lens 10.Oct.2025
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