Deciphering The Gen-Z Revolution In Nepal

Nepal today finds itself in the throes of a simmering political and social upheaval that has come to be described as the Gen-Z revolution. At its core lies a generational frustration: a youth cohort that has grown up in the aftermath of the People’s War, the fall of the monarchy, and the arduous construction of a federal democratic republic. What was once celebrated as a historic achievement—the crafting of a republican constitution in 2015 and the end of monarchy—is now seen as hollow. For young Nepalese, politics has ceased to be a source of aspiration; it has become a theatre of deceit and decay.

The ban on 26 social media platforms on the grounds of regulatory non-compliance acted like a spark in dry tinder. For Nepal’s youth, Facebook, TikTok, and Instagram are not just spaces of leisure but their only accessible public sphere—where they voice frustrations, organise protests, and challenge authority. When the government abruptly restricted these platforms, it was perceived not as regulation but as censorship, an attempt to silence their dissent. The anger that had long simmered over unemployment, corruption, and political decay suddenly found a clear target: a state that was not only failing to provide opportunities but was also trying to take away their voice. The ban thus transformed diffuse resentment into open defiance. The fallout was swift, nationwide protests. The government responded by killing 19 protesters and protests went violent. The Parliament, Supreme Court and ministers’ residences were set on fire, ministers were stripped, chased and beaten. Prime Minister K.P. Sharma Oli had to resign.  

Economic Breakdown and Social Distress

The roots of Nepal’s discontent lie in its fragile economy. Industrial output remains low, the country depends heavily on imports, and much of its GDP is sustained by remittances. Official figures show that more than 15 percent of Nepalese youth are unemployed, while nearly 40 percent are underemployed, surviving on precarious informal work or seasonal jobs abroad. According to Nepal’s National Statistics Office, overall unemployment rose from 11.4 percent in 2017-18 to 12.6 percent in 2022-23, with youth unemployment (ages 15–24) at 22.7 percent in 2022-23. The World Bank estimates place youth unemployment at 20.8 percent in 2024.  

Against this backdrop, the young see no prospects at home. The mass exodus of Nepalese workers continues unabated, with over 600,000 leaving annually for jobs in the Gulf, Malaysia, and increasingly, Korea and Japan. In a startling new trend, reports suggest that desperate youth have even enlisted to fight in Russia’s war against Ukraine, lured by the promise of money and permanent residency. Such migration underscores not just the lack of opportunity, but the erosion of hope in Nepal’s future. On average, 1,700 leave the country each day in search of jobs. The education system also bleeds talent, as hundreds of thousands of students exit annually, lured by opportunities abroad (Annapurna Express).

Meanwhile, inequality has deepened. According to the 2019 study Fighting Inequality in Nepal: The Road to Prosperity (Oxfam, HAMI), the richest 10% of Nepalis own more than 26 times the wealth of the poorest 40%. The same study shows the top 10% earn more than three times the income of the poorest 40%. Income inequality, as measured by the Gini coefficient, worsened from 0.49 in 2010-11 to 0.58 in 2019 (Asia Today). Wealth inequality is even starker: the wealth Gini stood at about 0.74 in 2010–11, reflecting highly concentrated asset ownership (Nepal Economic Forum).

Poverty levels have declined, but modestly. The Nepal Living Standards Survey (NLSS) 2022-23 reports that 20.27% of Nepalis still live below the national poverty line, down only slightly from 25.16% in 2011. Oxfam estimates suggest more than 8.1 million Nepalis remain in poverty. Rural-urban divides compound this picture: poverty in rural areas stands at 24.66% compared with 18.34% in urban areas. The disparities are stark at the provincial level. The economic malaise is compounded by collapsing human development indices: stagnant improvements in education access, health services stretched thin, climate disasters (floods, earthquakes) recurring, and food and housing inflation squeezing marginal families.

Corruption and Nepotism

The cause célèbre among protestors has been corruption scandals that never seem to reach justice. One example: the 2017 Airbus deal where Nepal Airlines purchased two A330 wide-body jets; an inquiry found losses amounting to 1.47 billion rupees (US$10.4 million). Key figures were indicted, but many see justice as symbolic rather than substantive.  The political class—comprising the Nepali Congress, the Communist Party of Nepal (Unified Marxist–Leninist)--CPN-UML and the Communist Party of Nepal (Maoist Centre)--the  parties fought under the banners of democracy, socialism, and Maoism, in practice they have converged into a cartel of oligarchic leaders. Decisions are made behind closed doors, party leaders recycle themselves in and out of office, and state resources are siphoned off for patronage.

Corruption has become endemic: Transparency International’s 'Corruption Perceptions Index' consistently ranks Nepal among the worst performers in South Asia. Ordinary people complain of bribery in everything from securing jobs to accessing basic services. This fuels the sense among the youth that democracy, so laboriously won through people’s sacrifices, has been hollowed out. The Maoists, who once promised revolutionary change, are seen as the most cynical, having abandoned radical goals in exchange for positions within the very system they denounced. For the younger generation, this is not just betrayal—it is a shameless deception.

The most hedious manifestation of corruption that Gen-Z hates the most is “nepo-kids”, the children of Nepal’s elite—ministers, MPs, bureaucrats—appearing in flashy Instagram reels driving luxury cars, studying abroad, vacationing at resorts, while their parents’ age-peer generation wait on the lines. The resentment is visceral.  

The Neglect of Youth

The neglected youth are the epicentre of today’s unrest. They are educated but unemployed, connected through social media yet disconnected from political representation. Their protests in Kathmandu and other cities have been striking not for making demands but for expressing pure anger: against all politicians, against all parties, and against the very model of politics that Nepal has endured for decades. This lack of articulated solutions has puzzled analysts, but it also reveals a deeper truth—that the younger generation has lost faith in ideologies, manifestos, or promises.

What makes this moment volatile is that Nepal has a recent history of armed mobilisation. During the Maoist insurgency (1996-2006), tens of thousands of cadres were trained, radicalised, and integrated into society only partially. Though disarmed, many ex-combatants are not depoliticised. Their role in the unfolding turmoil remains uncertain. Will they side with the disillusioned youth, or retreat into cynicism? The answer could shape whether the Gen-Z revolution remains a protest of discontent or transforms into something more organised and dangerous.

The Shadow of Monarchy

A striking undercurrent in the current unrest is the faint but noticeable revival of pro-monarchy voices. For sections of Nepalese society—particularly in the hill regions and among older generations—the monarchy is remembered as a symbol of order, stability and national identity. With the republic failing to deliver on its promises, royalist groups have quietly gained ground, staging rallies and shaping narratives on social media.

The monarchy was formally abolished in 2008, after King Gyanendra’s direct rule (2001-2006) collapsed under the weight of mass uprisings. Yet, by 2025, nostalgia has resurfaced. In March, thousands rallied in Kathmandu demanding the restoration of a constitutional Hindu monarchy. Parties like the Rastriya Prajatantra Party (RPP) and platforms such as the Joint People’s Movement Committee have been among the loudest advocates. Their appeals often turn on the failures of republicanism: “At least under the king, we had respect,” read one RPP leaflet.

Could the royalists engineer a coup? At present, conditions seem unfavourable. The security forces remain institutionally tied to the republic, monarchist support among younger urbanites is minimal, and elite divisions keep the idea on the fringe. Yet royalist sentiment is undeniably being stoked—by the corruption of ruling parties, by nostalgic memory, and by opportunistic elites seeking leverage. The youth, however, are not calling for monarchy; their anger is directed less at restoring the past than rejecting the present. Still, if the republican order continues to falter, the monarchy may reemerge—not through popular demand but as an option cultivated by disillusioned elites or external actors looking to stabilise Nepal.

Geopolitical Crosscurrents

Nepal’s current unrest cannot be understood in isolation; it unfolds within the tense geopolitics of South Asia. Wedged between India and China, and increasingly watched by the United States, Nepal sits at a crossroads where rival powers compete for influence.

China has steadily expanded its footprint through the Belt and Road Initiative, financing infrastructure projects and cultivating close ties with Nepal’s communist parties. Yet, its growing presence has provoked mixed reactions. While ruling elites welcome Chinese loans and investments, ordinary Nepalis often see stalled projects, mounting debt risks, and creeping threats to sovereignty.

India, by contrast, has historically been Nepal’s closest partner, tied by geography, culture, and economics. But its influence has waned since the 2015 border blockade, an episode that left deep scars in Nepalese memory. Even so, Delhi still views Nepal as part of its vital security perimeter and remains wary of Chinese penetration. Royalist currents in Nepal are sometimes quietly encouraged by groups in India who see the monarchy as a stabilising alternative to Maoist radicalism and Beijing’s growing leverage.

The United States, meanwhile, has sought to draw Nepal into its wider Indo-Pacific strategy. Through initiatives like the Millennium Challenge Corporation (MCC) compact, Washington has signalled both economic partnership and geopolitical interest, motivated largely by concerns over China’s expanding role. In this shifting landscape, unrest in Nepal becomes more than a domestic crisis—it is also an arena where external powers may quietly test their options, whether pushing for stronger pro-India leadership, containing Beijing’s influence, or reinforcing democratic norms.

Western actors such as the UN, international NGOs and rights groups, have also weighed in, demanding investigations into protest deaths, transparency, and the safeguarding of democracy.

Is there direct evidence of foreign sponsorship for monarchy restoration? None credible so far. The appeal of monarchy appears largely homegrown, though some well-connected elites—particularly business figures with foreign links—see in it the promise of centralised rule and more predictable governance. Whether Beijing, Delhi, or Washington would ever openly support such a reversal remains doubtful; for now, stability rather than disruption is their overriding interest. Still, in a region defined by covert ties and shifting realpolitik, outside influence can never be fully ruled out.

A Moment of Reckoning

The Gen-Z revolution in Nepal is striking precisely because it is leaderless, demand-less, and uncompromising. It is less a movement with a concrete programme than a rupture with the entire political class. Whether it dissipates or transforms into something more organised will depend on how Nepal’s elites—and the external actors hovering around them—choose to respond.

One fact, however, is undeniable: the anger of Nepal’s youth cannot be wished away. With more than 40% of the population under 25, the republic’s survival hinges on restoring trust in governance and creating genuine opportunities. If corruption and neglect persist, unrest could easily spiral into prolonged instability, inviting not only domestic collapse but also the meddling of external powers.

Nepal thus stands at a crossroads. It can either renew its fragile democracy by listening to its restless youth or slide into authoritarian experiments—whether in the guise of the monarchy, military dominance, or foreign-imposed models of “stability.”

Yet, the lessons of this upheaval extend far beyond Nepal’s borders. Across the world, the conditions are strikingly similar: disillusioned youth, hollowed democracies, and entrenched elites insulated from accountability. India, sharing borders with two countries where Gen-Z mobilisations have shaken regimes, cannot afford complacency. The ruling dispensation in Delhi has crossed lines of rupture many times over, assuming that India’s sheer size and diversity will insulate it from the tremors of discontent. But that very scale could also magnify the collapse if it comes.

The lesson is stark: listen to the people, the sovereign; listen to Gen-Z, the custodians of the country’s future. To ignore them is to gamble with the very foundations of democracy.