Syed Ata Hasnain | Nepal In Fix: Can It Douse Youth Fury, Calm Region?
Nepal this week leapt back into the spotlight as thousands poured into Kathmandu after a sudden social media ban, storming zones and the nation’s Parliament
We have seen this before — most recently in Bangladesh, a few years earlier in Sri Lanka, and now in Nepal. Each episode has its own causes and local colour, but they share an unnerving pattern. A combustible mix of youthful anger, sudden symbolic triggers (an Internet shutdown, a quota decision, the collapse of basic services) and the slow-burn failures of governance. If the “youth bulge” can be a demographic dividend, left untended — unemployed, unskilled and politically marginalised — it can quickly become a political accelerant.
Nepal this week leapt back into the spotlight as thousands poured into Kathmandu after a sudden social media ban, storming zones and the nation’s Parliament. The government says it acted as major platforms failed to comply with a Supreme Court-backed directive and a ministry ultimatum to register, appoint local grievance officers and obey Nepal’s social-media rules. What began as online fury transformed into mass demonstrations, violent clashes, curfew and Army deployment, with at least 19 people dead and many injured. Protesters forced their way into restricted areas; the security forces used teargas, water cannons, rubber bullets and even aerial firing in attempts to disperse crowds. The scale of violence and the speed of mobilisation left hospitals treating dozens in critical condition and Kathmandu under tight restrictions.
Why are Gen Z and younger millennials so central to these upheavals? Demography matters. South Asia’s youth cohort is large — potentially an economic engine — but scholarship shows a clear and troubling correlation. Where big youth cohorts confront unemployment, weak governance and exclusionary politics, the probability of political unrest rises. Put bluntly, a concentration of restless, digitally connected youth is a gift to mobilisers and a headache for brittle polity.
To understand what’s happening, you need to view this from three angles. Nepal’s history of fragile democratic experiments and violent insurgency; the organising power of a mobile, media-savvy youth cohort; and a theoretical playbook — crafted by Gene Sharp, the American political philosopher — that maps how non-violent movements topple or cripple regimes. I witnessed this in the Kashmir Valley in 2008 and then 2010 when the stone-throwing mobs went berserk. Nepal was a monarchy until 2008, and the country’s politics have been punctuated by chronic instability and a decade-long Maoist insurgency (1996-2006) that killed thousands and left scars on state-society relations. That history shapes how the Army and police respond to disorder, and how political elites use nationalist frames to push back. Forces seldom learn from the past.
There is also a playbook. No political scientist has unpacked the mechanics of leaderless, rapid, non-violent contention better than Gene Sharp. In his seminal magnum opus From Dictatorship to Democracy, Sharp lays out how decentralised movements can erode a regime’s sources of authority through symbolic defiance, strikes, non-cooperation and the strategic use of communications networks. Where social media exists, those mechanisms accelerate; where it is shut down, movements adapt through decentralised, often encrypted channels: the Black Net. Sharp did not predict every specific uprising, but he showed how networks, symbols and persistence can make power brittle.
Bangladesh in mid-2024 offered a warning. What began on campuses over a job quota decision quickly broadened, met by a harsh crackdown that produced mass arrests, and a chaotic political transition with regional reverberations. That episode showed how quickly a student movement can transform into a national crisis, and how heavy-handed repression does not restore order so much as deepen grievance and spill instability across borders. Nepal’s current turbulence must be read against that cautionary backdrop.
Nepal’s government faces an urgent choice: de-escalate and allow mediation, or double down and deepen the crisis. The smarter path is immediate damage control — rescind blunt measures. Kathmandu had briefly blocked 26 platforms, including Facebook, WhatsApp and X, a ban it rescinded the following day after deadly protests, with the government promising inquiries and several ministers announcing resignations. It must restore communication channels, allow impartial probes into deaths, and offer mediated dialogue. Prime Minister K.P. Sharma Oli was forced to resign Tuesday as the protests intensified, with the homes of top political leaders set on fire. He said it was to help facilitate a dialogue. Using the Army for urban crowd control in a country scarred by insurgency is unwise: it risks alienating security forces, hardening the protesters’ resolve and leaving lasting wounds. Confidence-building — temporary amnesties, credible commitments to youth employment and education, plus a clear reform roadmap — will stabilise politics better than force. Sharp noted that legitimacy fades when coercion is exposed as disproportionate.
What should India do? The answer is twofold: prudence and preparedness. No military or political interference; it would be exploited by all sides and would push Nepalese politics into a nationalist register that spiral beyond control. We could ensure consular readiness for citizens in Nepal, ramp up contingency planning in border states, keep secure lines of communication open with Nepal’s civilian and security leaders, publicly urge restraint in language that explicitly respects Nepal’s sovereignty, and quietly coordinate humanitarian options with multilateral partners should they be requested. Information preparedness — monitoring and countering disinformation, and avoiding any partisan amplification by the media. Restraint will be the best narrative at this time, and that should test our resolve of adopting good narrative control.
There is a strategic lesson in this for the future. Repression is a short-term fix and a long-term mistake. Banning the Internet or turning to force may silence protest for a day or two — but it also validates the Gene Sharp logic that a regime’s power rests on compliance, and that when pillars of compliance crumble, they can come down fast. If nations want order, they must invest in the institutions that produce it; decent jobs, credible policing, independent justice, and avenues for peaceful grievance redressal.
Nepal today is at a pivot. If Kathmandu chooses dialogue over draconian fixes, and India backs it, there is a path to return to stability that preserves Nepal’s sovereignty and the region’s calm. If not, we will see another chapter in a pattern that has already reshaped Dhaka and to some extent Colombo; and which will be infinitely harder to contain.
Humility, restraint and readiness to assist only on request are the wisest policies for neighbours and for those who care about democratic resilience in South Asia. The region’s youth can be its greatest asset — treated respectfully and invested in — or its most dangerous liability if neglected. It depends how we make our choices.
The writer, a retired lieutenant-general, is a former GOC of the Srinagar-based 15 (“Chinar”) Corps