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Here & Now

National interest vs community needs

Jazz as healing music

7:30pm Tuesday, 9 September.&nbsp; I was driving my daughter back from a relative’s house in Baneswar where she had taken refuge after a curfew was declared the previous day while she was in school. She was riding pillion on the back of my moped. We drove past Parliament <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-8-september-massacre">where 19 people had been killed by police </a>the previous day. We passed Thapathali, where the Kantipur highrise was on fire. The sky had gone dark, and the stinging smoke made it hard to breathe. A gas cylinder exploded, and the crowd dispersed briefly. The blast provided a moment to escape the raging mob. By myself I may not have been so scared, but my daughter’s safety made me more afraid. I had never been this frightened in my journalism career, even while covering the Maoist insurgency 20 years ago. At the Tripureswor intersection there were more angry crowds. The further we got from the epicentre of the GenZ demonstration, the more elderly the protesters looked. Many were muscular gentlemen with tattooed arms. Prime Minister K P Oli had just <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/kathmandu-burns-despite-pm-resignation">resigned</a>, but the crowd was still chanting “के पी चोर, देश छोड”. Soon, we were surrounded by an enraged mob. &nbsp;My survival instinct took over, and I started shouting “के पी चोर” and my plucky daughter screamed from behind “देश छोड”. Father and daughter waved at the &nbsp;protesters, and gave them a thumbs up. &nbsp;We finally got home, scared and smelling of burning rubber and smoke.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251007031028_c5c04095cdb6f0b24cdc2cc60bf627f49c15e0cf9b509ad149df35a2e73e1d3f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251007031028_c5c04095cdb6f0b24cdc2cc60bf627f49c15e0cf9b509ad149df35a2e73e1d3f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Reporter's diary of 8-9 September"> <figcaption>A building in Baneswar was damaged by protesters. </figcaption> </figure>  ARSON AND LOOTING I was born in the remote mountains of western Nepal in Rukum, the district that was the stronghold of the Maoist guerrillas after they launched an armed struggle in 1996. I moved to Kathmandu for higher studies, and as a student witnessed the popular uprising of 2006 against Gyanendra’s absolute monarchy. I have covered violence and chaos. I have been caught in the crossfire between the rebels and state security. I covered the violent <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-historic-youth-dissensus">street protests</a> of the 2006 People’s Movement that ended the war, the Madhes movement and the Indian blockade of 2015.&nbsp; But never was I more scared than during the 30-minute drive home through the city with my daughter at the back of my moped.&nbsp; Last month’s protests were initially led by youth groups which had loosely banded together as GenZ to protest corruption and impunity. On 8 September, I drove to the Mandala in my trusty moped to cover the rally, some protesters were in school uniform. There was singing and chanting. Just before noon, a slightly older group of protesters peeled off from the sit-in in front of Everest Hotel, broke through the half-hearted police cordon and moved towards the intersection outside Parliament. Most of the original young demonstrators remained at the sit-in, while the grownup protesters who were clearly not a part of the GenZ, started to break the perimeter wall of the Parliament complex. The young protesters looked a bit confused about what to do next as they also neared the Parliament gates. Violence was not a part of their plan, and the infiltration had begun in earnest. A group of organised older rioters broke through the western wall, even as police were concentrated along the main south gate. These agitators seemed focused on a single mission: to burn down the Parliament building, and they went about it purposefully.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251007031032_1fcd474774c8e110e833485cf54a7e63e8c8388ec78c2b4d3ae6e830c203c183.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251007031032_1fcd474774c8e110e833485cf54a7e63e8c8388ec78c2b4d3ae6e830c203c183" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Reporter's diary of 8-9 September NT"> <figcaption>Blood seen in Baneswar.</figcaption> </figure>  Too late, the police used water cannons to disperse those by the south gate. I went closer, my press card dangling from my neck. A tear gas canister whizzed past my head. I was not able to see clearly, and backed away to safety. The police opened fire at point blank range, killing 19 protesters. Hundreds of injured were carried to the nearby Civil Hospital. There are many video clips on social media of task force police kneeling, taking aim with SLR rifles and shooting, they show protesters being hit and falling. The riot police fled, and the Armed Police Force and Nepal Army soldiers came out, but remained close to the trucks that had transported them to the intersection. Seeing that the security forces were not stopping them, the crowd then went on an arson rampage — it became a free-for-all as government buildings were set on fire one after another. Most of the arsonists were not GenZ, they were in the mid-30s, and I heard many shouting slogans for the<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/why-the-monarchy-still-sways-nepal-s-republic"> restoration of the monarchy</a>. Others were there simply to vandalise and loot. After having chased the police away from the Parliament building, they posted pictures and videos, having the run of the premises, instigating new arrivals to continue with the arson, and also brandishing looted automatic weapons. A curfew was declared, but this did not stop the rampage throughout that evening and into the night. Unable to return home, I spent the night in a friend’s office, and returned to the Parliament area the next morning. The black asphalt was dyed red with blood. Shoes, slippers and pieces of clothing littered the street. The next day, 9 September the much-feared and expected revenge attacks ignited. There was hope that the Army would be able to protect government buildings and provide public security, but the arson, vandalism and looting went unchecked — even when the seats of government were set on fire. The military did make an appearance, but only after 10pm to enforce the curfew, but by then the mob had already gone home.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251007031032_578cfa7c9e56f6ffcf1ca9b148e114a87b5332268cf97720584b70906823c074.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251007031032_578cfa7c9e56f6ffcf1ca9b148e114a87b5332268cf97720584b70906823c074" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Reporter's diary of 8-9 September NT"> <figcaption>A protester receiving treatment at Civil Hospital.</figcaption> </figure>  That was the moment I asked myself: Where have the students gone? Has the GenZ movement been hijacked? I could not see any of the GenZ-ers anywhere on 9 September. It was around midday of 9 September that millennials, including from groups like Hami Nepal came forward to the media, claiming to speak for the GenZ. They claimed to have led the protests. Others claiming to be GenZ said they were for the restoration of the monarchy, but they did not look the age.&nbsp; Mobs were out of control, burning down the prime minister’s office, the Supreme Court, the CIAA and the official and private residences of ministers. Within 27 hours Nepal became a country without a government, and leaders without homes. Important official documents went up in flames with the buildings that housed them. PM Oli resigned, too late to save the day. The Army occupied itself airlifting ministers from their official residences. Former prime minister Sher Bahadur Deuba and his wife foreign minister Arzu Rana Deuba were dragged out, beaten up and their home set on fire. They were rescued and taken to an army base. It became hard to tell over the next few days if the Army was providing them security, or keeping them incommunicado in detention. The Army was negotiating with GenZ as well as pro-monarchists at its headquarters, but moved the talks to President Ram Chandra Paudel’s office on 11 September.&nbsp; Former chief justice Sushila Karki was nominated interim head of government by GenZ delegates voting on Discord, and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/march-to-5-march">mandated to hold elections</a> on 5 March.&nbsp; Will that happen? Things are too fluid at the moment. And my mind is still reeling from the fear and panic of that moped ride with my daughter through rampaging mobs. Did all that really happen in front of my eyes, or was it just a nightmare?&nbsp; Bhadra Sharma is a reporter for The New York Times based in Kathmandu.

Reporter's diary of 8-9 September

One is an archipelago, the other is landlocked. But the Philippines and Nepal have a lot in common: both are disaster-prone, their economies dependent on overseas migrant workers, both went though Maoist insurrections that failed to replace a feudal order dominated by political dynasties. And both countries suffer from rampant corruption. Twelve days after <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-new-normal" target="_blank">deadly protests toppled Nepal’s government</a> tens of thousands of Filipinos, many of them youth, also poured out into the streets demanding transparency and better government. Cars were set on fire, and more than 200 people were arrested, nearly half of them minors. The ‘Trillion Peso March Against Corruption’ was fuelled by <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2025/09/21/world/asia/manila-philippines-rally-protest.html" target="_blank">anger over embezzlement</a> by politicians and their <a href="https://pcij.org/2025/08/31/5-reveals-from-the-flood-control-data/" target="_blank">crony contractors</a> estimated to top $17 billion in flood control infrastructure that were either never completed, or non-existent.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025100411108_85daed60ed5599f53235312e5b33703244bbac8640dbaf5161f90e5abe83f7eb.png" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025100411108_85daed60ed5599f53235312e5b33703244bbac8640dbaf5161f90e5abe83f7eb" data-rendition-name="original" width="2326" height="1366" loading="lazy" alt="Phillipines anti-corruption protests"> </figure>  “We learnt from Nepal and <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2025/09/30/world/anime-protests-flag-moldova-nepal-indonesia-gaza.html" target="_blank">Indonesia</a> how to deploy social media as a tool to spread information, we are digital natives and well connected within the country and across borders,” said <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/yuri-lemana-68322b183/?originalSubdomain=ph" target="_blank">Yuri Lemana</a> of the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/FOIYouthPH/" target="_blank">Youth Alliance for Freedom of Information</a>, and a part of the GenZ protests.&nbsp; “The system has failed us, unemployment is on the rise, there are shrinking opportunities for youth, and we face environmental threats. There is a realisation that our future is at stake,” Lemana added. Online groups started highlighting bribery and kickbacks in July after President Ferdinand (Bongbong) Marcos Jr himself brought up corruption in the infrastructure budget in his annual address to the nation, and launched a probe.&nbsp; The protests gained traction after powerful visuals of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/international-spotlight-on-nepal" target="_blank">rallies in Indonesia and Nepal</a> circulated on digital platforms. Filipino journalists also exposed the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-f0MFz3vmfE" target="_blank">high-flying lifestyle of contractors</a> involved in siphoning off the infrastructure budget.&nbsp; As in Nepal, the youth protests were joined in by various radical groups. In Manila they reportedly included supporters of ex-president Rodrigo Duterte who is currently on trial at the <a href="https://www.icc-cpi.int/philippines/duterte" target="_blank">International Criminal Court (ICC)</a> in the Hague for extrajudicial killings during his ‘war on drugs’ 2011-2019. Duterte still has a lot of support, especially in the Filipino diaspora, for being tough on crime. Duterte was allied with Marcos in the 2022 elections, and his daughter Sara Duterte is currently vice-president. But the two families had a massive falling out, and the Supreme Court annulled the Lower House’s attempt to impeach the vice-president. This week in Manila, a remarkably well-informed Grab driver replayed TikTok videos of Kathmandu’s burning Parliament building to a passenger from Nepal. After his garment factory was driven out of business by cheap Chinese imports, he started driving a ride-hailing cab and was livid with successive governments not providing opportunities to ordinary people like him. Traffic was gridlocked because of flooded streets, and the driver vented out his anger: “Look at this. The streets are always flooded because of corruption. We should have done here what you did in Nepal.” Even before the protests, Senate President Francis Escudero and House Speaker Martin Romualdez had both resigned over the 'Floodgate Scandal'. Romualdez is Marcos’ cousin and is now said to be in Madrid, where his every movement is being tracked by Filipino diaspora in social media posts. The Independent Commission for Infrastructure has issued subpoenas to probe corruption in flood control projects. As in Nepal and Indonesia, much of the anger was over the offspring of politicians extravagantly flaunting their ill-gotten wealth on Instagram and TikTok. In the Philippines, the outrage is also over political clans passing on electoral seats to offspring. The 21 September protests were centred around Rizal Park and the EDSA Intersection in Manila — both symbolic for previous people’s movements against the Spanish colonialists and the 1986 uprising against the dictatorship of Ferdinand Marcos (father of the present president). “People here had seen what happened in Nepal, and were asking why we weren’t as angry as people there? Why not show our anger, too?” said one reporter who covered the protests. But, he added: “Let’s not be naive. It may have started with youth anger, but there were also people who were paid to infiltrate and instigate. We were also wary that things should not get out of hand like in Nepal.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025100411104_2c02ece56d29b2d8222433572d75c2dcc9bc2f3425d277a0056f393b521eecd0.png" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="2025100411104_2c02ece56d29b2d8222433572d75c2dcc9bc2f3425d277a0056f393b521eecd0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1550" height="996" loading="lazy" alt="Phillipines youth protests"> <figcaption>An Instagram post of the protests in Manila with a comment relating it to the Nepal unrest two weeks earlier.</figcaption> </figure>  Seventy percent of Filipinos are Millennials and GenZ of voting age, and they were impatient with a rigged electoral system. In a clear parallel to what happened in Kathmandu two weeks earlier, radical groups, political rivals, and the general public furious with the system all joined in the protests. Catholic priests, people from all generations and professions had participated in the EDSA Uprising against Marcos in 1986. This time, it was the youth who took the lead. Joseph Francisco Ortega of the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/nationalyouthcommission/" target="_blank">Philippine National Youth Commission</a> said he understands the frustration among the youth that fuelled the unrest. The discontent is also because despite there being young legislators, they are either party-affiliated or scions of political dynasties. “If we can convince young politicians to do the right thing, then we have won half the battle,” Ortega said. “If we want to rebuild quickly and for the long term, we have to change the system from within. There is a constructive way to do this, while exercising the right to non-violent protest.” CROSS-POLLINATION The <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6w8monPKdrc" target="_blank">violence in Manila streets</a> on 21 September was nowhere near the scale of what happened in Kathmandu on 8-9 September, but both transcended GenZ to be an outlet for pan-generational rage much like 1986 in the Philippines.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004111012_e9cf9abfa8e35f3c074506dfdf94a262b5b311da6863cc2ec7bc3458a983df71.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20251004111012_e9cf9abfa8e35f3c074506dfdf94a262b5b311da6863cc2ec7bc3458a983df71" data-rendition-name="original" width="6566" height="4377" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal GenZ protests"> <figcaption>Angry crowd torched Parliament building among others during the 8-9 September GenZ protests in Nepal. Photo: AMIT MACHAMASI</figcaption> </figure>  “With due respect to the youth, it is not about age but about technology,” explained journalist Malou Mangahas of the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/R2KRN/" target="_blank">Right To Know, Right Now Coalition</a> who participated in the 1986 uprising against Marcos. “We were all young and angry once. We are older, but still angry, and demanding good governance, transparency and accountability.” Just like in Nepal, young Filipinos rallying against corruption were also wary of infiltration, and it was clear from the anti-Marcos graffiti who the instigators of violence were. The GenZ were mainly wearing white while the pro-Duterte crowd <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6w8monPKdrc" target="_blank">are seen in videos</a> in black.&nbsp; The minors seem to have just joined in the melee from their street-side settlements. Rights groups have called for their release, accusing police of rough interrogation and ‘red-tagging’ as Communist provocateurs. Much of the transboundary cross-pollination of anti-government protests across Asia last month used gaming characters, memes, and anime personas like the manga cartoon One Piece flag depicting a grinning skull in a straw hat which became an icon of youth protests.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025100411100_2d09f075663678fe92d4e4dcc631ee6ad1aa8a99996f4c4a3649e4bf4d85132f.png" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="2025100411100_2d09f075663678fe92d4e4dcc631ee6ad1aa8a99996f4c4a3649e4bf4d85132f" data-rendition-name="original" width="810" height="1208" loading="lazy" alt="One Piece"> <figcaption>The One Piece Flag flying during protests in Manila on 21 September. Photo:  CYBERNETICBOYLOL / WIKIPEDIA</figcaption> </figure>  Yuri Lemana adapted a saying of gaming character <a href="https://www.warhammer.com/en-WW/shop/mechanicum-archmagos-prime-2024?srsltid=AfmBOorpYg8Zk5G5WiPUS9SXTampX969gMw79sP7ZzkE1G6H5pICR4PW" target="_blank">Archmagos Cortiko</a> in <a href="https://start-warhammer.com/" target="_blank">Warhammer 40,000</a>: “Prayer has its power, but fury also has its uses. If the government tries to hide things from us, we will find a way. Fury will find a way.” Kunda Dixit is the Publisher of Nepali Times, and was a foreign correspondent based in Manila in the early 1990s.

Nepal GenZs inspired Filipinos

From the echo chambers of social media to neighborhood tea shops, the hot topic two weeks after the GenZ revolt toppled Nepal’s government is whether the country should now have a directly elected prime minister. Although this has been proposed before as a way to end the instability in heads of government chosen by the biggest party or coalition in Parliament, it has found supporters and critics in the aftermath of the protests. As democratic as it sounds, a directly elected executive is not that simple.&nbsp; Nepal’s 2015 Constitution does not allow it, but for a young generation impatient for change, this demand raises critical social, political and constitutional questions. Nepal has seen a multiplicity of systems in the past 45 years: from a partyless absolute monarchy to a constitutional one, a parliamentary democracy and then a federal republic. But they have repeatedly failed to bring stability, good governance or an end to corruption in Nepal. But even though lately they have ensured civil liberties, the public was losing hope for the future, especially the young who could air and amplify their outrage on social media. Unbridled corruption and ideologically mismatched fragile coalitions acting with impunity, led many to conclude that a directly elected prime minister would ensure stability and accountability. ‘We have repeatedly trusted the same political parties, but they have repeatedly broken that trust, so it is no longer possible to trust that system anymore,’ says Miraj Dhungana, popular for the TikTok videos asking young people to go out into the streets to rally against corruption, and seen by many as the ‘original’ representative of Gen Z.&nbsp; In interviews he has stated that it has become necessary for Nepal to have a directly elected executive head through constitutional amendment. Dhungana himself did not participate in the protests after his meeting with pro-monarchist businessman Durga Prasai on 7 September sparked controversy that he as a lackey. Binod Deuba Thakuri of the Nepal Student Union who also participated in the GenZ protests thinks Nepal is institutionally not ready for directly elected prime minister: “Our democracy is not mature yet, our institutions are not strong, and we are vulnerable to social media induced populism.”&nbsp; CONSTITUTION AMENDMENT Amending the Constitution would also open a pandora’s box, with other demands, and should be left to the next legislative body, he adds. In her address to the nation on Friday, Prime Minister Sushila Karki who is a former chief justice also clarified that her interim government does not have the mandate to amend the Constitution to make way for a directly elected head of government, and it should be up to the new legislature and government after the 5 March election.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250919130956_799b2d43dccca73b3bff96e435efc0752203117b2cb219d0073994c0e6f2ee25.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250919130956_799b2d43dccca73b3bff96e435efc0752203117b2cb219d0073994c0e6f2ee25" data-rendition-name="original" width="4160" height="2774" loading="lazy" alt="Constitution Day NT"> <figcaption>Constitution Day address by Prime Minister Sushila Karki on 19th September earlier this month.</figcaption> </figure>  The demand for a directly elected executive head was first raised by Maoist leader Pushpa Kamal Dahal after the 2006 ceasefire. He proposed himself as Nepal’s first executive president ahead of the 2008 Constituent Assembly elections. While the UML did not strongly oppose the idea, the Nepali Congress (NC) stuck to a parliamentary framework. The 2015 Constitution ultimately clinched it for the current parliamentary system. The Constitution stipulates that the process of selecting a prime minister is based on parliamentary strength: the President appoints the leader of the party with a majority in the House of Representatives, or, in the absence of such a majority, a member who can demonstrate majority support. If these efforts fail, provisions exist for coalition or minority governments, and ultimately for the dissolution of the House and fresh elections. The Constitution currently makes no provision for a directly elected prime minister, which means that any attempt to introduce a directly elected executive would first require the careful design of a democratic mechanism to amend the Constitution and set out the procedures for such an election.&nbsp; “There is no legal legitimacy to have the directly elected executive head of the country in the March election, except if political legitimacy surpasses legality but that would mean a new constitution,” explains senior advocate Surendra Kumar Mahato. “Many other institutional arrangements like the appointment of the judiciary, the role of the president, and other check and balance mechanisms would need to be restructured.” Mahato says: “Nepal’s Constitution itself is not at fault — it is the political actors, who have failed to uphold good governance within its framework. Changing systems does not ensure better governance.”&nbsp; Changing the Constitution also needs a broad political consensus, the institutional capacity of the state must be carefully considered to ensure such a new system can function effectively in practice and not simply in theory. Empowering an executive head through direct elections should not come at the expense of accountability or parliamentary oversight, and there should be checks and balances in place. LESSONS FROM ABROAD Sri Lanka’s 2022 Agralaya was fuelled by the anger that the directly executive head turned out to be an authoritarian who backslides on democracy. Under Sri Lanka’s 1978 Constitution, the country adopted a directly elected executive presidency with sweeping powers over the cabinet, appointments, dismissal of parliament, and control over key institutions.&nbsp; Over the years, President Mahinda Rajapaksa removed term limits via the 18th Amendment in 2010, centralised appointment powers, including judges and heads of independent commissions, and used constitutional changes such as the 20th Amendment (2020) to reverse safeguards that limited presidential authority, thereby subordinating the legislature, weakening oversight, and enabling authoritarian control.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250914060932_a96e1046d0b148982b33f2dcbe56f349dc0c20a087e358360eb2dddcfe0b5072.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250914060932_a96e1046d0b148982b33f2dcbe56f349dc0c20a087e358360eb2dddcfe0b5072" data-rendition-name="original" width="4640" height="2610" loading="lazy" alt="GenZ and Aragalaya"> <figcaption>Anti-government protest in Sri Lanka on 13 April 2022 in front of the Presidential Secretariat. Photo: WIKIPEDIA</figcaption> </figure>  Nepal’s multiparty framework upholds an institutional balance where both the governing party and the opposition have defined roles. This parliamentary setup prevents power from being overly concentrated in one individual and ensures accountability through parliament and competing parties. Beyond the neighbourhood, the United States has a directly elected executive system. Donald Trump exemplifies how direct electoral mandate can fracture institutional check mechanisms. He has leveraged his power to attack judges, frame political opponents, turn legal defeats into rallying points for his supporters, often using pliant media platforms to reinforce the idea that institutional checks impeded the popular will. In Nepal, there is a risk that a directly elected prime minister could bring up a populist media savvy messiah who could use public grievances to get to power and consolidate it. Social media can be mobilised and easily saturated with posts to fuel a political narrative of choice.&nbsp; In the past, former prime minister K P Oli’s ‘digital army’ has been lobbied on his behalf on social media. Even without an ‘IT sena’, it is not unusual for governments to collaborate with social media platforms as seen in the US and India.&nbsp; In Nepal, a directly elected prime minister would raise the stakes, turning the battle for votes into a battle for attention online, where a leader who wins the algorithm also wins the elections, just as Kathmandu Mayor Balen Shah demonstrated in 2022 with support from groups like MRR and RONB. The Balen Phenomenon started in social media trickled to the ballot box.&nbsp; The digital space mas ensure that it is not trendy to dislike Balen. Comments that are critical of the Kathmandu Metropolitan City’s treatment of street vendors or of the mayor himself are met with backlash from supporters. Or, if the comments did not get any likes, the algorithms filtered them out as ‘not relevant’.&nbsp; The conversation of Shah often centred on his emotive responses and sentiments, generating strong engagement online. Meanwhile, policy debates received comparatively less attention.&nbsp; “Choosing a leader directly through an election means that we are vulnerable to populism and undermining of the democratic process, accountable institutions,” says Thaukri. Political activist Pradip Gyawali admits that the GenZ revolt was an example of how social media is a powerful tool to organise and disseminate information. But there are risks posed by disinformation and fake news online.&nbsp; “More media and political literacy among the people before the election in March is crucial to control the damage social media could do to influence voter behaviour,” he says.&nbsp; Beyond social media, online news increasingly relies on sensational, click-driven headlines to attract readers in a competitive digital market. A recent survey showed that 82.6% of GenZ (16- 24) rely on Facebook for news and 51.4% on YouTube.&nbsp; Nepali people with higher education seemed to engage with news more (99.1%) than illiterate individuals at 52.1%. Byte-sized headline-only journalism is leaving readers to their own devices, and vulnerable to media infiltration by IT cells.&nbsp; With social media actively shaping the course of elections, and news consumption, debates about changing the Constitution or the system of governance yet again may not ensure the demands for corruption free governance is met. Instead, strengthening media and political literacy among voters is key to prepare for the elections in March. Ayusha Chalise is a communication and development scholar specialising in how politics is experienced in the digital space.

Nepal's democracy keeps doubting itself

Harry Jackson was on an epic adventure ‘from Thailand to the UK on 2 wheels’ when he ran into the ultimate sidequest. Having just visited Zangla in Ladakh, Jackson had only landed in Kathmandu when he found himself in the middle of GenZ protests earlier this month. ‘<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Slq6zWu9o9w">Arriving in Nepal - Chaos, Protest &amp; Curfews</a>’ is the title of his first video (<a href="https://www.youtube.com/@wehatethecold/videos">wehatethecold on YouTube</a>) about the protest. He shoots police as they shoot at protesters outside Parliament. Jackson is riding a Honda CT125, a retro lightweight motorbike with off-road capabilities. Strapped to the bike is his sparse luggage, flute, and a faded Union Jack. People are rioting on the streets and there is a heavy armed police presence as he makes his way to his hostel in Thamel. His vlog the day after on 9 September has 29 million views. In ‘<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IyxSqeFrlp0">The side of Nepal the media won’t show you</a>’, Jackson rides his bike straight at the crowd just past the Parliament building into Old Baneswar.&nbsp; He parks it and walks among the protestors, documenting it all: from the police firing capsules of tear gas into the crowd to the burning Parliament building as well as the jubilant, victorious crowd in the premises as they destroy police vehicles and dance. “I’m shocked at the scenes I’ve witnessed here today. I have truly witnessed history on a stupid trip from Thailand to England on a f***ing moped!” exclaims Jackson as he leaves the scene for the day, heading back to his hostel to edit the footage. The hostel is in direct contrast to the raucous scenes of the protest, as tourists and Nepalis sit and lounge at tables. ‘KUIRE VLOGGER’ Nepalis quickly called him the ‘kuire vlogger’, and attribute his skin colour to his popularity. Objectively, the videos are well made. Jackson goes full gonzo journalist, putting himself right in the heart of the action, talking directly to the people, all while narrating the events as they unfold. Despite being cut together in an entertaining way, the footage retains a raw, unpolished quality that outdoes what most professional journalists with a heavy duty camera crew could do. At a time when legacy media has been seen to be pushing biased narratives, Jackson wants to see for himself what happened, and make up his own mind.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250925120956_f7141e06c72655502fc4b2e56120d084b0f5ae111078d66df4fd0415adf8d376.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250925120956_f7141e06c72655502fc4b2e56120d084b0f5ae111078d66df4fd0415adf8d376" data-rendition-name="original" width="2880" height="1604" loading="lazy" alt="WehateTheCold"> </figure>  This kind of video journalism takes a lot of skill and a certain personality. Many people, almost everybody, had their phones out at the protests, but only a handful were like Jackson. He interviewed people firsthand, edited the clips and uploaded them the same day. Jackson continued his vlogging over the next few days as the curfew was first put in place and then lifted. He explores the city as the Valley rebounds. By this time, Nepalis recognise him everywhere he goes. Jackson had achieved moderate fame as a 23-year old DJ in Birmingham, but what he has done in Nepal is something else. Almost everyone he talks to has already seen his vlog, and they are all eager to interact. He has been on multiple podcasts in Nepal too, and most videos online on the protests reference his vlogs. Before his Nepal blogs, Jackson had a modest 16k subcribers on YouTube, but after Nepal figure is now almost 700k, gaining over 100k each through 11-13 September. Most of them are Nepali viewers. “I’m just a regular dude who just did what he wanted to do,” says Jackson on a podcast. “I wanted to go on an adventure, learn about history, and learn languages. And I wanted to film it, document it, and have a wicked film for my life to show future generations.” &nbsp;

The accidental journalist

In 2003, the death by police firing of a student protesting a rise in fuel prices pushed Nepal’s student activists to join the प्रतिगमन विरोधी आन्दोलन (Movement Against Regression), which political parties had begun after king Gyanendra’s sacking an elected government a year before. The students’ participation elevated the movement and prompted more Nepalis to join in, leading to the People’s Movement that first sidelined the monarchy and then abolished it in 2008.&nbsp; That took five years to happen. But 12 years later, this month, a youth-led protest forced the prime minister to resign within 30 hours.&nbsp; Police massacred GenZ activists, many of them students, outside Parliament on 8 September. This intensified public anger, leading to targeted attacks, looting, and burning of the homes of political leaders, private businesses, and public buildings.&nbsp; Amid the smouldering ruins of state institutions, young Nepalis chose a new prime minister to lead an interim government and deliver a fresh mandate. All of this happened in five days.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250910140912_019d62de4b62a366299a27d1276e931a7dadefcc674441e7fb3acd503970efaf.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250910140912_019d62de4b62a366299a27d1276e931a7dadefcc674441e7fb3acd503970efaf" data-rendition-name="original" width="8000" height="5760" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal in ashes"> <figcaption>Parliament building up in flames during the GenZ protest on 9 September. Photo: KAMAL PRASAI</figcaption> </figure>  Students have been central to Nepal’s democratic and political process since the mid 20th century. In her 2018 book Making New Nepal, researcher Amanda Thérèse Snellinger traces the history of student activism and politics against a background of &nbsp;Nepal’s socio-political history and party politics.&nbsp; Snellinger examines the interplay of ideology and identity, explores how student activists fit into a political landscape continually occupied by the traditional elite, and details how student leaders have established themselves through relationships with influential actors on local, national, regional, and transnational levels. The Rana regime’s repression caused students to be politically aware. In 1947, students held the first organised protest against the Rana autocracy demanding educational reforms. The breadth of student activism expanded during the Panchayat era after king Mahendra banned political parties, which drove mainstream politicians and parties underground. &nbsp;Student activists then became proxies for multiparty democracy because they were still able to organise.&nbsp; Student politics was institutionalised, and unions emerged as vanguard sister organisations of political parties. Student activism, more so than mainstream political parties, played key roles during &nbsp;both major movements in 1990 and the 2000s, as they mobilised the citizenry to join the democratic process.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250924130940_f94cf97fb7ed98b90b48736e1aa8a76466f50337dffc36ec78e9cd5e6927deea.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250924130940_f94cf97fb7ed98b90b48736e1aa8a76466f50337dffc36ec78e9cd5e6927deea" data-rendition-name="original" width="1952" height="2928" loading="lazy" alt="1990 people's movement Nepal"> <figcaption>The iconic image of the 1990 People's Movement agaist the autocratic Panchyat regime of the king. Photo: MIN RATNA BAJRACHARYA</figcaption> </figure>  Through extensive ethnographic research between 2003 and 2015, Snellinger investigates the political coming of age of student activists during the final years of the armed insurgency and their role in and beyond the movement that ultimately abolished the monarchy. Her research revolves around the political journeys of five student activists: Akash and Rishi from the Nepali Congress (NC) student wing Nepal Student Union (NSU), Salini from the UML’s All Nepal National Free Students’ Union (ANNFSU-Akhil), Gyanu from ANNISU-Revolutionary of the Maoists, and Lagan, who began his political journey from Nepal Majdoor Kisan Party’s student wing Nepal Krantikari Bidyarthi Sangathan. The ‘movement against regression’ in 2003 served as the entry point &nbsp;for activists into national party politics. Indeed, it was their &nbsp;participation in the movement that elevated the profile of the main subjects of Snellinger’s research. In the years that followed, the paths of the five activists diverged. Some made it into mainstream politics, even becoming lawmakers. In doing so, they have had to trade idealism for pragmatism, and their attempts realise their previous vision for Nepal’s democracy have been overshadowed by their political opportunism and position. And even decades after they began their journey as student activists, the generation that the book focuses on are still considered &nbsp;‘youth’ leaders. Snellinger quotes a former student leader who joined mainstream politics as saying: “I am still a youth because &nbsp;my aspirations remain unfulfilled.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250924130944_7cca095d79fb5ce45cf92c61b77d72c31c5e0931aa744c73e264b6f91efdd29b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250924130944_7cca095d79fb5ce45cf92c61b77d72c31c5e0931aa744c73e264b6f91efdd29b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1004" loading="lazy" alt="2006 People's Movement of Nepal"> <figcaption>A student protester wearing a paper crown and ridiculing Gyanendra with an impersonation, a day after king stepped down and left his palace. Photo: AJAY JOSHI / A PEOPLE WAR</figcaption> </figure>  Meanwhile, the refusal of Nepal’s octogenarian leaders to retire (even after The upheaval this month) has created a surplus of younger adults waiting in the wings, making the word ‘youth’ relative in Nepal’s political trajectory. Other subjects of Snellinger's research have retreated from student and mainstream activism, either in disappointment over their mother party’s retreat from some of their more radical positions, or to &nbsp;continue their work at the community level through education and journalism. One of them has leveraged her political connections to further women-led initiatives after unsuccessful election bids. Nearing the end of her research in 2015, Snellinger observes the disappointment of Madhesi communities whose movement to demand more inclusive provisions of the draft Constitution had gone in vain, even after 45 lives were lost.&nbsp; As the Constitution was promulgated in 2015, TVs were switched off in the Tarai, and there were sighs of resignation. In Kathmandu, Snelllinger noted that the student leaders that entered mainstream politics protesting for inclusive democracy had little empathy for the struggles and similar demands of groups in the Madhes. Despite the students’ role in ending the monarchy, Nepal’s political status quo has remained. The institutions and people that replaced the &nbsp;monarchy have allowed one set of Kathmandu elites to be replaced with another.&nbsp; The socio-political benefits promised during the movement two &nbsp;decades ago have remained tightly controlled by leaders who refuse to give up their hold on power. The political system was overhauled, but without concrete reform. It was only a matter of time before public frustration would boil over. Indeed, Snellinger concludes her book by predicting the inevitability of future movements in Nepal.&nbsp; She writes: ‘Leaders emerge through the andolan … a new generation will emerge shaped by Nepal’s accumulated socio-political heritage, which they will mediate to shape a liveable present and future for themselves in their country, perhaps by continuing the movement.’&nbsp; And that is exactly what happened on 8-9 September. Students marched in the streets demanding an end to corruption and impunity, but this time not as proxies of political parties.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250908120948_8a9acceede487651487c2f15b65e40f900ee6cd390bbf98394eade6b95d05b28.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250908120948_8a9acceede487651487c2f15b65e40f900ee6cd390bbf98394eade6b95d05b28" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Gen Z protest"> <figcaption>A student during the GenZ protest against acorruption on 8 September. Photo: SUDIKSHA TULADHAR</figcaption> </figure>  Their desire for socio-political reform was apolitical at a time in Nepal’s history when the nation’s student organisations have weakened and lost credibility, mirroring the erosion of trust in their parent parties. Along with party-based student unions, the Free Student Union (FSU)— the umbrella body all student unions—has lost its reputation due to corruption and embezzlement. That is not to say there are no similarities in movements past and present. Whether political or apolitical, protests have been overshadowed by a lack of unity within the groups that spearhead movements. They have led to destruction of public and private institutions.&nbsp; Leaders of youth and student movements have also had to bear the brunt of the frustration of the people they represent when there is no delivery on their demands. The academics of students have suffered because of frequent lockouts of university and college administration. Youth andolan, whether political or apolitical, has been a rite of passage into Nepali democratic politics — dissensus is an integral part of political regeneration. It remains to be see how the fall &nbsp;from grace of political parties after the GenZ movement will affect their affiliated student unions. As elections approach, student unions and youth collectives will find their own footing in Nepal’s &nbsp;newly emerging socio-political landscape. The youth who took to the streets are asking for a complete overhaul for political parties. Establishmentarian leaders still have not seen the writing on the wall.&nbsp; NextGen leaders in their parties have been waiting for years for their turn &nbsp;to break through the glass ceiling. These established political actors will not go down without a fight in the run-up to March elections.&nbsp; Amanda Thérèse Snellinger perhaps needs a post-script or even a sequel to her book to see how a new generation of leaders, forged by their student activism, will compete in Nepal's new political arena.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250923190928_98d53dd49d56c92950bc34642eaee51dea458fd64312d945a358ad70e5e994bb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250923190928_98d53dd49d56c92950bc34642eaee51dea458fd64312d945a358ad70e5e994bb" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Making new Nepal book details NT"> </figure>

Shristi Karki

Nepal’s historic youth dissensus

Among the songs GenZ protesters were chanting at the Mandala on 8 September was Amrit Gurung’s folk-rock rendition of the Panchayat-era patriotic song, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0iXnL31W93c">रातो र चन्द्र-सुर्जे जङ्गी निशान हाम्रो</a>. But amidst waving double pennants that day in Kathmandu were strands of Gopal Yonjan singing <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N7D8P-g3Uw4" target="_blank">बनेको छ पहराले</a> and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=57SlGf4m7R4" target="_blank">देशले रगत मागे</a>. The irony is that the message of Nepali nationalism the musician was trying to convey 50 years ago with his lyrics carries a new resolute relevance in today's context: I am a son of Nepal who will never kowtow to anyone.&nbsp; You can behead me, but I will never bend the knee. &nbsp; I can withstand fire, but will not stand injustice.&nbsp; If the nation demands blood, I will sacrifice myself. My mother will not weep, for she is the daughter of a Nepali. This was pure patriotic poetry that only someone like Gopal Yonjan could write. They are inter-generational and immortal — speaking as much for the GenZ today, as it was for the early days of nation-building when they were recorded in vinyl and broadcast over Radio Nepal.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025092210094_4d5f65bf3ba2d2823e3da8aff6a77f2b9aa4eff4b1e1b6a8eeed8c0bcb58e47b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025092210094_4d5f65bf3ba2d2823e3da8aff6a77f2b9aa4eff4b1e1b6a8eeed8c0bcb58e47b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Gopal Yonjan NT 1"> <figcaption>Gopal Yonjan was an adept flautist from a young age in Darjeeling.</figcaption> </figure>  Those two songs together have over 20 million views on the Music Nepal YouTube channel, and many of the comments have been posted after the 9 September massacre and the raging conflagration at the epicentre of the Nepali state&nbsp; They attest to the emotional depth of Nepali nationhood and love of motherland in every citizen of every generation no matter how dreadful the circumstances — and especially when the future looks fragile and uncertain.&nbsp; The release of Gopal Yonjan: The Man &amp; His Music by his wife Renchin could not have come at a more momentous time in Nepal’s history to celebrate this iconic legend of modern Nepali music. Yonjan would have been 82 today, and as a poet, lyricist, singer innovated and improvised using Nepal’s folk traditions to infuse modern arrangements, meld melody with harmony, and lend them words that made the songs eternal.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025092308098_76c4e4df756de0c1bea9858e1da0bcb6acb8145f27963e1679f5509a6ac2f078.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025092308098_76c4e4df756de0c1bea9858e1da0bcb6acb8145f27963e1679f5509a6ac2f078" data-rendition-name="original" width="2712" height="3900" loading="lazy" alt="Gopal Yonjan Narayan Gopal"> <figcaption>Narayan Gopal with Gopal Yonjan, the ‘Gopal Duet’ at Swayambhu circa 1963.</figcaption> </figure>  HOMECOMING Renchin Yonjan brings us an intimate family album of historic photographs of Gopal growing up in school in Darjeeling, his arrival in Kathmandu and the decision to make Nepal his home. She quotes Gopal: ‘I was deeply moved by the very glimpse of Nepal. I was enchanted by the greenery of Kathmandu, the gentle nature of the people, their pure thoughts, and their hospitality … how wonderful it would be to spend my live in such a beautiful and serene place.’ It was a kind of homecoming for Gopal Yonjan, the land his ancestors left to migrate to British India. In Kathmandu he found kindred spirits and musicians as passionate about their craft as himself: Narayan Gopal, Nagendra Thapa, Ratna Shumsher Thapa, Shiva Shanker, Pushpa Nepali  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250922100920_99a97f6cd76c130d5df91a38ac236906bcb21ba6fc2d2d693ba51e0a97c045d4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250922100920_99a97f6cd76c130d5df91a38ac236906bcb21ba6fc2d2d693ba51e0a97c045d4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1071" loading="lazy" alt="Gopal Yonjan"> <figcaption>Gopal Yonjan arriving at Kathmandu airport in 1963 and greeted by Nepali singers Pushpa Nepali, Dilmaya Khati, Shiv Shanker Shrestha, among others. </figcaption> </figure>  Gopal Yonjan and Narayan Gopal hit it off right away, complementing and inspiring each other with their shared love for meaningful music. They came to be known as the ‘Gopal Duet’, and Yonjan wrote in Nepali in his diary on 21 April 1963 about their first meeting: ‘I was immediately struck by his talent and presence. There was something in both his artistry and demeanour that drew me in. It didn’t take long for us to draw close.’ Towards the end of his life, Gopal Yonjan drifted away from themes of patriotism and unity to celebrate music in its purest form in his Gopalaya Studio in Kathmandu. It became art for art’s sake.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250922100912_f9aeec8d96049c580a4b63789664e1ae80971d3be3c7809acfe51b84e3e31cd1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250922100912_f9aeec8d96049c580a4b63789664e1ae80971d3be3c7809acfe51b84e3e31cd1" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1304" loading="lazy" alt="Gopal Yonjan"> <figcaption>Gopal Yonjan at his Gopalaya Studio in Kathmandu in 1992.</figcaption> </figure>  The words of his song <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D8ZHg3wkvzw" target="_blank">मेरो गीत मेरै प्रतिविम्ब होइन</a> immortalised by Narayan Gopal has lines that give goosebumps to anyone who listens to them: मेरो गित भन्ने अधिकार छैन, गित को पो म हूँ मेरो गित होइन (I have no right to call this my song. This song does not belong to me. I belong to this song.) &nbsp; In Nepal, Gopal Yonjan also found a more complicated story. There were grand historical narratives of nationalism, bravery and glory, but there was an undercurrent of fear and control. Renchin writes in the chapter, Tell Me Where My Country Lies: ‘[Gopal saw] national pride slowly erode in the face of social exclusion, political silence, and economic disenfranchisement.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250922100912_57578ebebc7e405cf6ad3080611366893bee30cfc071567e6509038da866b2f2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250922100912_57578ebebc7e405cf6ad3080611366893bee30cfc071567e6509038da866b2f2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1043" loading="lazy" alt="Gopal Yonjan"> <figcaption>Renchin and Gopal Yonjan in their garden in Kathmandu in the late 1980s.</figcaption> </figure>  Gopal Yonjan’s song <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zru8yWSuRCI" target="_blank">भनिदे नेपाली दाइ मेरो देश कहाँ पर्यो</a> is ‘as much an elegy as a manifesto’ with searing lines like ‘Where is the river that ran red with Nepali blood? Where is the battlefield where our defenders wiped their khukri?’ Gopal Yonjan sings this song himself, reminding Nepalis of the sacrifices made to forge this nation, and for us not to squander them.&nbsp; In his song <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_pVKpsK6Wy8" target="_blank">लाहुरे</a>, Yonjan celebrates Nepal’s illustrious history written in blood both to keep the nation free and then spilling it to defend other countries. Today, the same song takes on added meaning of Nepali lahure shedding not blood but sweat and tears as they toil abroad to send money to families back home. It evokes the pain of separation, and an anger at an uncaring state that drives them to leave. Gopal Yonjan died aged 53 in 1997 in a New Delhi hospital, leaving a legacy that still defines the Nepali nation in ageless musical compositions. The US-based <a href="https://www.gopalaya.org/" target="_blank">Gopayala</a> and the Gopal Yonjan Foundation have worked to remaster some of the tapes and recordings that are in safekeeping at Cornell University’s Carl A Koch Library.&nbsp; Renchin Yonjan has collected some of that valuable documentation in her book, Gopal Yonjan: The Man &amp; His Music. Her concluding paragraph sounds prescient because of what Nepal has just been through: ‘Gopal’s patriotic compositions remain timeless not because they repeat old slogans, but because they ask new questions, and demand that we answer not with our voices, but with our lives.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025092210090_3d0b5ecad2313b09e83e0de91bf510004f1ff836d7e66f0543ccd49432bb6386.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="2025092210090_3d0b5ecad2313b09e83e0de91bf510004f1ff836d7e66f0543ccd49432bb6386" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="518" loading="lazy" alt="Gopal Yonjan"> </figure>

Kunda Dixit

Gopal Yonjan’s immortal songs

Robert Redford was an A-list megastar who had dominated Hollywood throughout the 1970s, generally considered the high water mark of American cinema.&nbsp; In those days Nepal was a fashionably remote destination, so it was not unusual for us to be looking after celebrity visitors. But Robert Redford was huge by any standards.&nbsp; “Call me Bob,” was the first thing he said to me, with that wonderful embracing smile that had lit up screens and quickened heartbeats around the world throughout the previous decade.&nbsp; We met over a cosy Mountain Travel dinner in Al Read’s brick and stucco house in Dhobighat. The floors were traditional terracotta tiles, the low beams darkly varnished and a cheerful fire warmed the October chill.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250921110940_32dd66ba4b578a843bbbf6a74bca7d47f9ac7083c3bf50f8213ac3e5322974fd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250921110940_32dd66ba4b578a843bbbf6a74bca7d47f9ac7083c3bf50f8213ac3e5322974fd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1396" height="920" loading="lazy" alt="Robert Redford in Nepal"> <figcaption>Robert Redford in 1982 at Meghauli airfield in Chitwan with young Kirsten Annapurna Read, the daughter of Al Read, managing director of Mountain Travel Nepal.</figcaption> </figure>  Our heroes often seem diminished in real life and Redford was shorter than expected, though taller than his friends and co-stars Paul Newman and Dustin Hoffman. But most striking was his pock-marked skin which must have challenged makeup artists over the years.&nbsp; I was disappointed he was not wearing his trademark cowboy boots, but Bob’s fame infused the room with his gentle politeness and low-key glamour. Next morning I picked him up from the Malla Hotel for some light sightseeing around the Valley. Under strict instruction from ‘his people’ that any fuss from fans was to be minimised, I was surprised to see him wearing a Sundance tee-shirt – just in case no one recognised him.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250921040916_1674398340a9501127e9f8b6b775f41b35703253f772ee05c6ab064819cd0abb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250921040916_1674398340a9501127e9f8b6b775f41b35703253f772ee05c6ab064819cd0abb" data-rendition-name="original" width="840" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Robert Redford in Nepal"> <figcaption>Robert Redford exploring the Kathmandu Valley in 1982. Photo: GALEN ROWELL </figcaption> </figure>  Unmolested, we walked the ancient streets of Bhaktapur, and Bob was duly entranced by the visual impact of Malla Newar’s enduring culture. Robert Redford’s main purpose in Nepal was to trek in the Khumbu with his friend Galen Rowell, an adventure photographer, conservationist and mountaineer who met a premature death in 2002 in a small plane crash in Bishop, California.&nbsp; There may have been some talk of a film about Everest, but nothing came of it. After the trek, Bob and Galen explored the grasslands and forests of Chitwan, staying with us at Tiger Tops Jungle Lodge to view wildlife from the back of a well-trained elephant.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250921110948_7c2339d73cedfcc9e659169d1d1bc2239d3d9973f6c4b1a945bfeb74b9b74d19.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250921110948_7c2339d73cedfcc9e659169d1d1bc2239d3d9973f6c4b1a945bfeb74b9b74d19" data-rendition-name="original" width="723" height="958" loading="lazy" alt="Robert Redford in Nepal"> <figcaption>Robert Redford in Chitwan, with Tiger Tops Manager KK Gurung on 9 December 1982. Photo: GALEN ROWELL</figcaption> </figure>  Confiding that he was not much of a traveller, Bob told us Nepal was one of his first trips outside the USA. Bob preferred his homes in Malibu on the Pacific coast and the wide open spaces of Utah, which he named Sundance after his favourite role.&nbsp; SOARING GRANDEUR With his strong affinity for the outdoors, Redford’s horizons must have been significantly expanded by the soaring grandeur of Nepal's sublime mountains, untamed rivers, and tiger and rhino infested lowlands. Galen’s knowledge and enthusiasm for all things Himalayan made him the perfect person to introduce this prominent novice tourist to Nepal’s wild places. Framed photographs of Bob taken by Galen’s skilled camera still grace tourist lodges on the Everest trail, and I confess to having one hanging in our downstairs loo.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250921070932_7bff2986293742e6e97c91c879f2549f2a99095f1f4a98c50e3b74c7f91f7b84.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250921070932_7bff2986293742e6e97c91c879f2549f2a99095f1f4a98c50e3b74c7f91f7b84" data-rendition-name="original" width="1076" height="1624" loading="lazy" alt="Rovert Redford in Nepal"> <figcaption>Robert Redford in snowbound Namche Bazar in 1982.</figcaption> </figure>  His movie classics that defined our youth included the iconic Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, The Sting, All The President’s Men and The Way We Were. With many Oscar nominations, his personal best was Ordinary People, his directing debut which swept the award board in 1980, shortly before his Nepal trip. But Robert Redford was more than just an all American action man actor and successful film director. He chose roles that highlighted his political and social outlook. He was admired as an active environmental campaigner, using his fame to fight for clean air and pure water, serving as a trustee of the Natural Resources Defence Council.&nbsp; Redford once said: “The danger of success is that it forces you into a mould. I prefer independence.” Choosing the wilds of Utah over the jungles of Hollywood, in 1981 he started the Sundance Institute to cultivate controversial and independent movie talent.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250921040916_081aa6b2c1f9f82f3ea6a550c6887d9a991f2983a0a976456d627d711ae8a2e2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250921040916_081aa6b2c1f9f82f3ea6a550c6887d9a991f2983a0a976456d627d711ae8a2e2" data-rendition-name="original" width="2448" height="3264" loading="lazy" alt="Robert Redford in Nepal"> <figcaption>Robert Redford being shown around Bhaktapur by Lisa Choegyal on 21 Nov 1982. Photo: GALEN ROWELL</figcaption> </figure>  Festival screenings and workshops gave thousands of film people a chance of artistic freedom, nurturing a galaxy of filmmaker greats. At the end of his long life, Redford’s Sundance is widely recognised as having profoundly influenced American cinema.&nbsp; I like to think that Robert Redford’s rare overseas holiday amidst the stunning natural beauty of Nepal’s high mountains, Sherpa villages, living heritage and endangered animals might have opened his eyes and perhaps even sparked his lifelong concern for social and environmental issues.&nbsp;

The Sundance Kid in Nepal

Last week’s GenZ protest in Nepal was one of the shortest violent movements to topple a government in modern times. Social media played a crucial and unprecedented role in it. It was the digital space that documented, fuelled, rallied and magnified the protests on 8-9 September, as well as the negotiations to form an interim government afterwards. Even a week after, netizens are posting memes, real and AI-generated videos and jokes. This has been a powerful display of the power of ridicule and free speech that also reflects the resilience of the Nepali people and their ability to bounce back. Last week, as the Nepal Army held negotiations with wannabe leaders, the joke going around was about people being worried to venture out into the streets because they might be caught and made interim prime minister of the country.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025092004094_5cdfca4511a64facbf6a95c62a5abfb367a60e658d68ad502213516c7943f7dc.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025092004094_5cdfca4511a64facbf6a95c62a5abfb367a60e658d68ad502213516c7943f7dc" data-rendition-name="original" width="617" height="487" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's meme revolution NT"> </figure>  Another video showed protesters making pretend calls on landline phones outside the burning Parliament. A British tourist’s clip about why his country could not defeat Nepal in 1814 went viral.&nbsp; Public disillusionment with the corrupt political parties was at an all time high, and the ban on 26 social media platforms on 5 September was the last straw. This did not just infringe on freedom of expression, but was important for business and trade, and it cut off the Genz’s vital communication channels.&nbsp; Everybody perceived the ban which apparently was not popular within K P Oli’s CPN-UML as the prime minister’s authoritarian ways. The government failed to understand that social media was also distracting the public with entertainment, and it was an effective way to let off steam.&nbsp; When apps like Instagram, Messenger, YouTube, X, and Reddit were blocked, youth banded together calling for an anti-corruption rally via TikTok which was functioning. &nbsp;&nbsp; TikTok exploded with users sharing #NepoBaby clips of the children and relatives of politicians showing off their extravagant lifestyles funded by corruption. It was there for ordinary Nepalis to see: the vacations, fancy restaurants, designer bags, and opulent villas.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250920030952_f8d7a287c3c472c67ac45089e5588a4ba6e615e19119222a130710f7ef660a65.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250920030952_f8d7a287c3c472c67ac45089e5588a4ba6e615e19119222a130710f7ef660a65" data-rendition-name="original" width="1570" height="1446" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's meme revolution NT"> </figure>  Put to Nepali music, these clips were edited to be juxtaposed with the lives of impoverished Nepalis leaving as migrant workers. Some tried to defend the children of politicians, but most were enraged. In response, one Instagram handle called genz.nepal was set up. Its bio says: ’Fu*k this system!! Let’s slay and stay woke!!’ and made its first post on 6 September. It was an AI generated poster featuring a raised fist calling for a national protest two days later under the banner ‘Youth Against Corruption.’ Despite the ban on social media, they were still semi-functional with workarounds such as VPNs. News of the time and venue of the protest spread rapidly through cybersphere. ‘Let it be clear, our fight is not against one party or another, it is against the system itself,’ said one of the posts. ‘We mean the government, the opposition, the bureaucracy, the judiciary, and every structure that has betrayed the people.’ Other posts called on all to keep the protests peaceful, with no party flags or symbols, no leader, and no damage to property.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025092004094_f22baab05910305ea435045824b25b796d5630715e2e17c3f3c0991e8371843c.png" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025092004094_f22baab05910305ea435045824b25b796d5630715e2e17c3f3c0991e8371843c" data-rendition-name="original" width="974" height="1156" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's meme revolution NT"> </figure>  While noble, the decentralised nature of the protest also made infiltration possible, and violence inevitable. Loot and arson followed. With no clear leader, no one person could be held accountable. But perhaps if the protests had not escalated after the massacre on 8 September outside Parliament, the government would not have fallen at all. Past peaceful protests at Mandala never materialised into anything. Even the 8 September protests had started peacefully, with organisers urging participants not to indulge in violence. Outside Parliament, the commando unit of the APF were seen in wide-shared videos kneeling down to take aim at protesters with automatic weapons. With the social media ban lifted, online posts showing the dead with live round bullet wounds on heads and chests, some in college uniform, were shared widely especially through Instagram stories. Anger was boiling over at police brutality and many posts showed PM Oli with blood on his hands. All of this exemplified the brutality of the state against innocent students, and added fuel to the anger against the state. It was only a question when anger turned to revenge, and that came the next day with the targetted arson and looting.&nbsp; Social media took away any possibility of the government denying or censoring the truth as might have happened in the past at Tiananmen Square and other pre-Internet protests. Nepalis saw it all live on their phones, and the reaction was immediate.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025092004098_609488466dd350924f972b3c6bc7004bebe229d21281db2f8ca7468df5cce353.png" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025092004098_609488466dd350924f972b3c6bc7004bebe229d21281db2f8ca7468df5cce353" data-rendition-name="original" width="1268" height="772" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's meme revolution NT"> </figure>  On 9 September, the shocking visuals kept playing on loop. By mid-morning all three branches of the government were burning. Politicians chased and beaten, their houses set ablaze — and all this was also streamed in real-time.&nbsp; Social media was also where relatives and friends mourned the dead, came to terms with the reality, and shared their opinions about the days ahead. Nepal now has an interim government with Sushila Karki as the Prime Minister but in the days up to the announcement and even now, social media is rife with conspiracies from India’s involvement to military-royalist collusion, as well as a potential coup. DISCORD&nbsp; To the surprise of everyone, including the GenZ, the next prime minister of Nepal was being decided on Discord, a social media platform popular among gamers during Covid for its ability to host large groups with stable voice communication.&nbsp; Amidst much chaos, people memed, reacted, and spoke in the server which quickly grew to almost 150,000. Social media, for better or worse, is now a way of life with far reaching implications. Kathmandu Mayor Balen Shah, RSP chair Rabi Lamichanne and others appealed to their voter base using social media in the last election, but the same platform was shown to also build and destroy political careers.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025092005090_a1961c27e714ddb18b916c718724f235eb7ec3380487c7dc555c4395882d0c15.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025092005090_a1961c27e714ddb18b916c718724f235eb7ec3380487c7dc555c4395882d0c15" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's meme revolution NT"> </figure>  False narratives that are intelligently crafted using deep fake go viral in no time, and can be more damaging than other forms of communication. With high-stake early elections announced for March next year, the campaigning will be more on the digital platforms than door-to-door. There is a strong possibility for it to be used to disinformation and hate speech to incite voters, but equally it can be an interactive medium where citizens can raise their voices. &nbsp; Some candidates with digital-savvy backrooms designing memes and AI-generated visual content will be trying to set false narratives to fan populism. Because of global connectivity, the diaspora will have an unprecedented influence on how folks back home vote.&nbsp; So far, populist candidates have managed to ride on widespread public anger against the main parties and gather protest votes. This time, they may find that you cannot fool all the people all the time.&nbsp; Candidates can no longer hoodwink an unaware, docile populace anymore. People may not be able to read, but they have smartphones. And that gives them a say, an opinion and there must be space for them all as we build back stronger.

Vishad Raj Onta

Nepal’s meme revolution

As dusk fell over Kathmandu, the thunderstorm continued unabated. It had been raining continuously for 18 hours, and the forecast said it would keep raining at least till 8am on Sunday. The Bagmati roared through Chobhar Gorge in awesome rapids – the only drainage outlet for the entire Kathmandu Valley. By evening, 120mm of rain had fallen in 18 hours, more than the average for the whole of October.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004161016_99ad9098124bec91da71ac42bbe889981fe64dda2dd3012b8bb289cf78ba4c54.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251004161016_99ad9098124bec91da71ac42bbe889981fe64dda2dd3012b8bb289cf78ba4c54" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Kathmandu floods 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004161016_59b97f3a3b2af91d3876b298963b3e68395c8b388aba6d9972c9bde1f668608d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251004161016_59b97f3a3b2af91d3876b298963b3e68395c8b388aba6d9972c9bde1f668608d" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Kathmandu floods 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004161016_1715f4d6ff1ee87302b697d3c95df36486bea71ed279852ef606c8f5dc68439b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251004161016_1715f4d6ff1ee87302b697d3c95df36486bea71ed279852ef606c8f5dc68439b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Kathmandu floods 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004161016_ecd3dec69270afbd5a5c71dfa71780b6f8982984a95f3fbb83f23ee594451224.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251004161016_ecd3dec69270afbd5a5c71dfa71780b6f8982984a95f3fbb83f23ee594451224" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Kathmandu floods 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004161016_53e47ae222c9f4397bcdad6d8021a711a5671fd45373fb3df2ed5c6413d58359.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251004161016_53e47ae222c9f4397bcdad6d8021a711a5671fd45373fb3df2ed5c6413d58359" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Kathmandu floods 2025"> </figure>  Settlements along the banks of Bagmati and Vishnumati in Kathmandu have been evacuated and affected families will be temporarily sheltered in schools across the capital.&nbsp; Bagmati Province has set up a Unified Command Team for disaster management while the Home Ministry has instructed CDO and security personnel to be on duty 24/7.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004171048_7e5d10f8e0042190e54e6db6cddbd51ed9d6d9dbc0cdb087d7af3207c9eaa2d0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20251004171048_7e5d10f8e0042190e54e6db6cddbd51ed9d6d9dbc0cdb087d7af3207c9eaa2d0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="888" loading="lazy" alt="heavy rain in Kathmandu"> <figcaption>Friday's satellite precipitation forecast for Sunday morning at 0600 showing heavy rainfall along the Chure Hills and Madhes Province south of Kathmandu. </figcaption> </figure>  The torrential rain has obstructed several highways as well as caused infrastructure damage, but no human casualties have been reported so far. Many had feared a repeat of the deadly flashfloods on 28 September 2024 in which 200 people were killed and half of Nepal's hydropower generation capacity siped out. The government has declared 5 and 6 October as a public holiday to prevent people from travelling during the Dasain festival, and to reduce risk. All highways in and out of Kathmandu closed till Monday. Flood-prone river corridor roads in Kathmandu have been closed after 6PM on Saturday. Meanwhile, all domestic flights were suspended from Kathmandu and other airports from 2PM Saturday, and most inbound international flights were diverted from 3PM onwards. Rerouted flights started arriving in kathmandu late Saturday as the core of the storm system moved east.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004151056_bad029b05dbfda622986270a798edc6efcc2791ff34f53b9d1283554ac72c39a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251004151056_bad029b05dbfda622986270a798edc6efcc2791ff34f53b9d1283554ac72c39a" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="heavy rainfall in Kathmandu 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004151052_9e740929c7ef0899b0f397195695b873bba45b089bb1e11cf37dbe125d0cd60d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20251004151052_9e740929c7ef0899b0f397195695b873bba45b089bb1e11cf37dbe125d0cd60d" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1363" loading="lazy" alt="heavy rain in Kathmandu 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004151056_2b75c2ea57df76dae1c470f0e460720b7d258868258789729e491ab93cb41ebd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20251004151056_2b75c2ea57df76dae1c470f0e460720b7d258868258789729e491ab93cb41ebd" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="heavy rainfall in Kathmandu 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004151056_6c045ac30e50710bcf3ca7b6ca4ac9c45e8d8881ed39f522779c860b0d3f15c3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20251004151056_6c045ac30e50710bcf3ca7b6ca4ac9c45e8d8881ed39f522779c860b0d3f15c3" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="heavy rainfall in Kathmandu 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004151052_9ef160b8403764495b86159661cc9a11d9d7d3b848686a631e5ec8cff0c4c38f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20251004151052_9ef160b8403764495b86159661cc9a11d9d7d3b848686a631e5ec8cff0c4c38f" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="heavy rain in Kathmandu 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004151052_e5825bcc6666e5235d9db2d4854a19cd6536335ebaf4cd65413acc601ceee3b5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20251004151052_e5825bcc6666e5235d9db2d4854a19cd6536335ebaf4cd65413acc601ceee3b5" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="heavy rain in Kathmandu 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004151056_097077400e96f571f4418cd7b57c082045d86dd9035c31c5acd7ede2bfc54349.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20251004151056_097077400e96f571f4418cd7b57c082045d86dd9035c31c5acd7ede2bfc54349" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="heavy rainfall in Kathmandu 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004151056_30a4da8f384f6fe1a862e775124ae08ccf51c1db60e71e7e2d683e0f25f33546.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20251004151056_30a4da8f384f6fe1a862e775124ae08ccf51c1db60e71e7e2d683e0f25f33546" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="heavy rainfall in Kathmandu 2025"> </figure>  Madhes, Bagmati and Kosi provinces are the worst hit with Maheshpur in Rautahat district recording 270mm of rain as of 3PM on Saturday. Similarly, Gaur received 243.6mm, Kalaiya in Bara 200.6mm and Birganj 221.4mm. The Department of Meteorology did not blame climate change, but said the unusually heavy precipitation at a time when the monsoon is supposed to have ended was caused by the head-on collision between moisture-laden westerlies with the retreating monsoon.

More dark clouds over Nepal

In early 20th century, Prime Minister Chandra Shamsher Rana wanted to build a railway from the Indian border north towards Kathmandu to reduce the costs of transporting food and other supplies.&nbsp; It would also facilitate travel of thousands of Hindu pilgrims from India, who had to walk up to five days to reach Kathmandu to celebrate Shivaratri and other religious festivals. The plan was to bring a railway up to Dhursing, where a ropeway to Kathmandu had just been constructed. This would avoid the need to carry supplies on the backs of porters from Birganj to Bhimphedi then over Chandragiri Pass to the Valley. However, the costs of building a railway to Dhursing were found excessive because of the steep grades trains would encounter north of Amlekhganj.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025100404100_ffac8f6a5b41d2727ae92690ccced8da5d2684cc88d933c75b9c90f555956757.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025100404100_ffac8f6a5b41d2727ae92690ccced8da5d2684cc88d933c75b9c90f555956757" data-rendition-name="original" width="1554" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Life and times of Nepal Government Railway NT"> <figcaption>Mahabir, a unique Garratt locomotive, built in Manchester, England in 1932. Collection: RICHARD PELHAM</figcaption> </figure>  A Calcutta firm Martin &amp; Company surveyed and built the Nepal Government Railway (NGR) in one year at a cost of approximately 1.1 million Indian rupees. The 30 lb narrow-gauge rails, 2’ 6” apart, extended 29 miles from Raxaul, India to Birganj, Parwanipur, Jitpur, Simara and Amlekhganj. Prime Minister Chandra, his wife, other Rana officials, and King Tribhuvan attended the dedication ceremony in Raxaul on 16 February 1927. It was only the second time in history a Nepal king had stepped foot on foreign soil. The NGR began service with two steam locomotives, 4-6-0 tanks (indicating wheel arrangements) built in Leeds, England in 1926. They were given the auspicious names of Pashupati and Guhyeshwari. As traffic increased, the NGR later purchased Goraknath (in 1928), Mahabir, Krishna, Sita-Ram, and lastly Sri Bishnu (in 1949).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025100404100_864b56ea45c837a9b4110bccb2df09a0011b2e2ad20202b3f9d9316d2b4fdce5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025100404100_864b56ea45c837a9b4110bccb2df09a0011b2e2ad20202b3f9d9316d2b4fdce5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1523" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Life and times of Nepal Government Railway NT"> <figcaption>Gorarkhnath on a bridge north of Birganj in 1958. Photo: DEREK CROSS</figcaption> </figure>  Railway engines embodied a religious-cultural significance besides their secular importance as mechanisms of transportation. These engines later ran on the Janakpur Railway as well. A British citizen, W S Pedrick was the NGR’s chief officer from 1927 to 1941. Tek Jung Thapa then became NGR general manager until 1959, when Kulbir Singh KC replaced him. Devendra Singh KC took over in 1963. A Bengali, Radha Charan Bhattarchaya, lived in Birganj and worked as an accountant and auditor for the NGR for 25 years.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025100404104_1d7e97674ebac55bf3634ce9e44fc3af617b1bac9cb7fc818278329f44bf7e62.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025100404104_1d7e97674ebac55bf3634ce9e44fc3af617b1bac9cb7fc818278329f44bf7e62" data-rendition-name="original" width="1051" height="1297" loading="lazy" alt="Life and times of Nepal Government Railway NT"> <figcaption>Sardar Tek JungThapa, the Nepal Government Railway (NGR) general manager for many years. Photo: ANIL JUNG THAPA</figcaption> </figure>  The opening of the Tribhuvan Rajpath and the advent of air cargo services in the late 1950s took traffic away from the NGR. During 1956-57, the NGR carried 255,000 passengers and 60,000 tons of freight and made an estimated profit of 800,000 Indian rupees. By 1963-64, the railway transported only 66,450 passengers, 30,070 tons of goods and for the first time in its history operated at a loss of 151,000 rupees. Passenger service ended in June 1965, and all freight trains were suspended on 13 April 1968. A sporadic 5km 'freight shuttle service' between Birganj and Raxaul continued until the late 1980s.&nbsp; The NGR played an important role in Nepal’s commercial life. During 1937-38, the top four products imported into Nepal by value were cloth, iron, yarn, and cigarettes. Since Kathmandu was the largest market for imports, many of those and other products were loaded on NGR freight cars at Raxaul and transported to Amlekhganj, then by lorry to Dhursing, finally by ropeway to Kathmandu.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025100404100_e3157ef1cd2ce312902d40178aa9d35cab1b9b23dfc0d0f37e77ce59b3df756d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025100404100_e3157ef1cd2ce312902d40178aa9d35cab1b9b23dfc0d0f37e77ce59b3df756d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1619" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Life and times of Nepal Government Railway NT"> <figcaption>Sita-Ram at Amlekhganj in 1958. Photo: DEREK CROSS</figcaption> </figure>  Passenger traffic also was impressive. During World War II, the NGR did a booming business transporting Nepal Army troops to India for garrison duty and services abroad. For example, 6,000 soldiers from two Nepali brigades rode the NGR during March 1940. At the end of the war, Maharaja Juddha Shamsher stated that Nepal had sent 148,500 troops to India at British request. Many of those men rode the NGR on their return to Nepal in 1945. A 1936 document in Nepal’s National Archives shows the NGR had nearly 170 employees that year. Annual salaries for those in the General Department ranged from 1,200 Indian rupees (a medical officer) to nine sweepers at 102 rupees. In the Traffic Department, five station managers each received 384 rupees, while four trolley men got 132 rupees. The Engineering Department supervisor’s salary was 1,800 rupees, while eight guards were paid 120 rupees each. Locomotive drivers took home 300 rupees, firemen 204 rupees. The Ranas had outlawed unions, but with regime change in 1951, railway workers went on strike and submitted a list of demands to the government for higher salaries, more sick leave, free housing, and establishment of a provident fund. Nepali Congress Minister Bhadra Kali Mishra met with railway representatives and made promises, but workers were not satisfied and continued their protests throughout the 1950s, actions that Nepal’s Communist Party enthusiastically endorsed. &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004031056_ef965e3369c8947dddd53fc69986ceff8ea0ae037474252e4ff3d2623df70fe8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251004031056_ef965e3369c8947dddd53fc69986ceff8ea0ae037474252e4ff3d2623df70fe8" data-rendition-name="original" width="1733" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Life and times of Nepal Government Railway"> <figcaption>Mahabir with a freight train leaving Raxaul in 1964. Photo: FRITZ LEHMAN</figcaption> </figure>  &nbsp;In his book Prachin Sansmaran, Ram Mani Dixit tells how he and a party of Nepali officials and soldiers were entrusted with 1,530 boxes of Indian currency worth nine million rupees to deliver to the Calcutta mint in 1939. A special NGR train left Amlekhganj with the treasure, but being heavily overloaded, the train rapidly gained speed, and Dixit and the party became alarmed and began crying “Narayan, Narayan” in fear. The driver lost control, the train derailed, soldiers were thrown from the wagons, and silver coins were scattered in the jungle. Dixit and his colleagues managed to escape through the coach windows with only bumps and bruises. The NGR repeatedly faced several problems in operating its trains. Its engines could run on wood, but coal was the preferred fuel, and coal supplies from India sometimes were interrupted.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025100404104_1b5c40eb721f6d1c019764a7208ef93883374261f3823bf82606ca0599a12546.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2025100404104_1b5c40eb721f6d1c019764a7208ef93883374261f3823bf82606ca0599a12546" data-rendition-name="original" width="1548" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Life and times of Nepal Government Railway NT"> <figcaption>Gorarkhnath taking water at Simara. Photo: DEREL CROSS</figcaption> </figure>  By the 1940s, spare parts for its locomotives were hard to obtain from England, and its 30 lb. rails could not support heavier equipment that would allow more efficient and less costly operations. While mechanics with only on-the-job training performed heroically to keep broken-down equipment repaired and in service, regular maintenance was neglected, and the Ranas took no steps to invest the amounts needed to modernise the railway. Nor did matters improve with the advent of democracy in 1951. Nepal’s First Five-Year Plan (1956-1961) for the transportation sector focused its attention and provided funds for building roads and airports. In Nepal’s transportation family, railways were the sano bhai, even the sautini bhai. However, the NGR was not forgotten, and several studies were conducted from 1952 to 1971 to consider what should and could be done with the NGR. A report by Indian railway officials in 1952 described the alternatives: rehabilitate the NGR at minimal cost; rehabilitate it as a permanent measure; convert the line to a metre-gauge railway, extend the existing narrow-gauge line from Amlekhganj to Hetauda after rehabilitating the entire system; or construct a new metre-gauge line to Hetauda.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025100404100_16b15ff70330db854836323a6827b53ceec5cbc14691748f7cdf61b9dd767e22.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2025100404100_16b15ff70330db854836323a6827b53ceec5cbc14691748f7cdf61b9dd767e22" data-rendition-name="original" width="1525" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Life and times of Nepal Government Railway NT"> <figcaption>Gorakhnath heading toward Birganj. Children around the world are fascinated by the sight and sound of steam locomotives. Photo: DAVID CROSS</figcaption> </figure>  Nepal adopted the last and most expensive alternative, but all that was accomplished was a survey of a new line to Hetauda. There were no efforts to implement the ambitious project or to secure the necessary funding. As the NGR rapidly deteriorated after 1956, newspaper stories and editorials rallied to support the railway and criticised government inaction. A 1959 article claimed that 'ill-feeling and disunity are prevalent among railway employees, and this has resulted in inefficient service causing anxiety and inconveniences for passengers. Local people who know the inside stories of the Railway are afraid to make a journey even up to one station.' In 1964, another paper wrote: 'The Nepal Government Railway is no more than a heap of scrap iron. The number of passengers is negligible. The Government has become completely indifferent towards the condition of the railway.'  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251004031056_c27b470a52bf8f66d7d56fef8bcbf1e3d74d997c5fd66d7e9e3085f322e7de92.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20251004031056_c27b470a52bf8f66d7d56fef8bcbf1e3d74d997c5fd66d7e9e3085f322e7de92" data-rendition-name="original" width="1519" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Life and times of Nepal Government Railway NT"> <figcaption>Shri Bishnu under repair at Birganj. Photo: JOHN BENSON</figcaption> </figure>  Another article charged: 'The NGR has reached a stage of total ruination… Employees never receive their salaries in time… The train starts with ticketless passengers. No government authority ever inspects this wretched transport [system]... It is painful to note that we cannot improve the condition of such a small railway. We appeal to the Government…to improve the condition of this railway.' A 1965 World Bank study of Nepal’s transportation needs provided the coup de grace. It recommended the NGR be abandoned, as the cost of rehabilitation was excessive and did not solve the problem of incompatible track gauges at Raxaul, which necessitated transferring by hand freight from India Railway’s metre-gauge wagons to NGR’s narrow-gauge wagons. Nevertheless, Indian technicians completed surveys and submitted reports to Nepal in 1967 for rehabilitating the NGR, but by then the situation was hopeless: the railway was losing 300,000 rupees a year. Yet a few government officials continued to advocate for broad gauging the then-defunct NGR and extending it to Hetauda.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025100404100_9c70a2962fba05a9dbf239efd539adb42663070594bcc014bf84c9f2d1a05329.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="2025100404100_9c70a2962fba05a9dbf239efd539adb42663070594bcc014bf84c9f2d1a05329" data-rendition-name="original" width="1504" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Life and times of Nepal Government Railway NT"> <figcaption>The former NGR station at Amlekhganj in 2017. Photo: DAN EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  Again, Indian engineers conducted a survey for such a 52-mile broad-gauge, electric line in 1971 and submitted a reportto the government. They estimated the project would cost at least $200 million plus $60 million more for rolling stock. India’s Railway Ministry promptly concluded it was not a viable project, and the report died in Nepal’s byzantine bureaucracy. It seems some dreams never die, and hope springs eternal. In April 2018, the prime ministers of India and Nepal met in New Delhi and agreed to build an electric rail line from Raxaul to Kathmandu and that India would conduct the studies and pay the full costs of construction. That was seven years ago. No rails have yet been laid. Costs continue to escalate, and no guaranteed funding has been secured. Will we ever see electric broad-gauge trains arriving in Kathmandu? Certainly not in this author’s lifetime, but then he is no longer a young man. &nbsp;&nbsp; Read aoslo: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/nepal-s-five-little-railways">Nepal’s five little railways</a>, Dan Edwards Dan Edwards was a Peace Corps volunteer in 1966 and is the author of several books on Nepal. This is the second instalment in a new limited series in Nepali Times on the historic transportation infrastructures of Nepal.