Chuden Kabimo is in Kathmandu to receive this year’s Madan Puraskar prize for his novel, <a href="https://thuprai.com/book/urmal/?srsltid=AfmBOopuAcN_Emi7s7ptdJNBJhP17OQEkWBwF2OjbkZik99xCWS4sqPn" target="_blank">उरमाल</a> that is set among the tea plantations and their workers in northeast India’s Dooar plains.&nbsp;
The award ceremony was postponed due to Nepal's violent GenZ protests, and his trip had to overcome highways and bridges destroyed by this week’s heavy rains in the Darjeeling hills and across the border in Nepal.&nbsp;
Kabimo’s previous work, <a href="https://thuprai.com/book/faatsung/?srsltid=AfmBOopwCankD0dycz4oef2BifQlIq1vWwHSawc33IPiBWExo_n8YAb3" target="_blank">फातसुङ</a> was the story of the Gorkhaland Movement in Darjeeling 30 years ago told through fictionlised characters and their friendships, their love for the land, and revolution. Song of the Soil is its English translation by Ajit Baral published in 2021, and there are also Hindi and Bengali translations.&nbsp;
The Gorkhaland Movement sought to create a separate state for Nepali-speaking Indians of West Bengal. There is plenty of violence, arson, and young death in the book, and a poignant contemplation on the 8-9 September Gen Z protests in Nepal.&nbsp;
The plot is structured as a story, inside of a story, inside of a story, and starts off as the narrator gets the bad news that his childhood friend Ripden was killed in a landslide. He heads back to the site, Malbung, where he was born.&nbsp;
He reminisces about his days in school with the rebellious Ripden, who encouraged the narrator to skip school and led him on adventures instead. He remembers villagers who sold their farms for alcohol, and dedicated teachers who helped them dream of better lives.&nbsp;
Ripden lives with his uncle. His mother died when he was four, and his father disappeared in the Movement. One day he hears that his father is in fact dead as well, and decides to run away to a village called Lolay. There the pair meet Nasim, who is involved in the Gorkhaland Movement as a child soldier.&nbsp;
Chuden Kabimo is of the Lepcha community, a people fiercely proud of their identity, homeland, history, and myths. He weaves together the stories of the characters, detailing their motivation to rebel. ‘I may give up my life, I may give up my soul. But Gorkhaland, I will have anyhow,’ says one leader of the Movement.&nbsp;
It is the story of all revolutions where young idealistic people join with the best of intentions, but things betray their initial hopes. The spirit of the revolution can get everyone to protest, even those who do not want to be so involved, but they get killed anyway. Much like what happened outside Parliament last month in Kathmandu.&nbsp;
Others think of personal success through the movement, and dream of a day where even the pigs can eat rice and every house has a swimming pool. Others keep themselves going through with alcohol and remembering past, present, or potential lovers.&nbsp;
Ajit Baral’s translation has short, crisp sentences that make the 200 pages move along at a fast clip. The sparse language allows the writer to recede to the background as the story unfolds by itself. &nbsp;
Kabimo condenses love stories into a chapter or sometimes just a few paragraphs. This works because the story of the revolution must be at the centre, and all else is tangential. Characters are sometimes introduced only to be killed off quickly.&nbsp;
Like in all revolutions, there are factions and they are fighting among themselves, against Communists, or against the police. Readers not familiar with Gorkhaland may find it difficult to keep track, but this also parallels the real confusion of a society in turmoil.&nbsp;
Kabimo also tends to start his chapters with statements like ‘history is written by those who stumble in life’ which sounds better in Nepali, and something is lost in translation. &nbsp;
Read with the recent Nepal protests in mind, there is almost a sense of relief that the fires that spread here burnt themselves out so quickly. But in Song of the Soil, the revolution is never-ending with villages and families living in terror and deprivation.&nbsp;
It seems that the longer insurrections last, the more people die, and groups become divided making it easier to subvert the original goal of a revolution.
---
<h2>"I make sure I am always connected to the story"</h2>
- Chuden Kabimo, the winner of this year's Madan Puraskar literary prize for the book Urmaal
Nepali Times: Your journalism about the Gorkhaland Movement inspired your earlier novel, Faatsung. What was your process in learning about tea plantation workers for Urmaal?
Chuden Kabimo: I had been reporting on the second Gorkhaland movement, so it was easy for me to write Faatsung. For Urmaal, I lived with the tea plantation community. I started work six months after Faatsung was published, heading to the Dooars and exploring it. I had gone with the intention of writing a story about child marriage in a community there.&nbsp;
I talked to the locals and the workers, and the need to write Urmaal started pulling me. I would often think that I had enough material for my story, but then I would want to add certain elements, which kept me going back over the five years it took to write the book.&nbsp;
How does all that information you gather develop into a storyline and characters?&nbsp;
When I start the book I don’t know how the plot will start and end. I talk to many people from different backgrounds. Each person tends to introduce me to other people that I should speak to.&nbsp;
I listen to their stories. As the stories start to fit together, I get a sense of the plot and that is where my characters come from. For a single character I need to bring together the stories of many people, maybe ten or twelve. It is not possible to base a character on a single individual all the time.
I start where I want to, and as I keep writing the story slowly takes shape. I wrote what ended up becoming the last chapter for Urmaal, first.&nbsp;
What about your actual writing process?
I wake up early in the morning, then I either go cycling or play football. Then I get back and &nbsp;sit at my computer for sometimes two hours. I sometimes write only two lines in the two hours, sometimes I can write five hundred words. I don’t set a word count for myself. I cannot write a lot at once, I am a slow writer, but I strongly believe that you have to write daily.&nbsp;
When you do not write daily, especially for a novel, you tend to lose the connection to the story. I just make sure that I am always connected to the story, which helps me always think about it even when I am on the bus or something.&nbsp;
What does winning the Madan Puraskar mean to you?&nbsp;
I feel that the Madan Puraskar is the biggest prize in Nepali literature, so it is a source of great pride for me.&nbsp;
When I wrote my first book, I hadn’t thought of winning any prizes. When I wrote Faatsung I was thinking much more of Kalimpong and Darjeeling. What Faatsung did for me was make me recognised. A lot of people in Nepal liked it too. How to outdo Faatsung was a challenge for me when I wrote Urmaal.
After the book was published, it was getting some good reviews but I didn’t expect it to win the Madan Puraskar. I was at home reading in Siliguri when I got the news.&nbsp;
For other awards, like the JCB, they had contacted me to tell me that I had been shortlisted or that I won, but to not reveal it to anyone. It was the opposite with the Madan Puraskar. I was notified via Facebook!&nbsp;
It was a unique type of happiness. It is also great motivation for me to work on my third novel. Perhaps I will do something about Sikkim, moving away from Gorkhaland.&nbsp;
How does it feel being recognised in Nepal?
Six years ago, readers in Nepal did not know who I was. I was new to Nepal and Nepal was new to me. I grew up in rural Kalimpong, and we only had a radio for entertainment. On the radio, we used to listen to Nepali programs, which developed an emotional attachment to the country.&nbsp;
I came to Kathmandu for the first time for Faatsung, and it was a lot of fun seeing the places that I had heard about on the radio. The journey after that, of the love the readers have shown for the book and now the prize, has been very meaningful.&nbsp;

Vishad Raj Onta

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Here & Now

Revolution song

Scenic Phortse in the lap of Mt Everest is called ‘the village of mountaineers’ because just about every household has someone who has summited the world’s highest mountain multiple times. However, while the international mountaineers they assist to make it to the top go on to fame and glory, their Sherpa guides from Phortse <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/without-sherpas-there-is-no-mountaineering" target="_blank">barely get a mention</a>. It is a risky occupation for Nepal’s high altitude guides, and every other family in this village has lost a member in Himalayan expeditions. Sherpa guides are <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/on-mt-everest-s-70th-records-and-fatalities" target="_blank">disproportionately more at risk </a>on Mt Everest because they have to traverse the Khumbu Icefall many times during an expedition. One third of the over 300 climbers who have died climbing Mt Everest are Nepali high altitude guides and porters. In 2014, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/everest-dangerous-place-to-work,1316" target="_blank">16 guides were killed</a> when an avalanche fell on them while going up the treacherous Icefall carrying expedition gear. Then in 2015, the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/big-drops-in-Everest-bookings-affect-livelihoods-of-Nepali-high-altitude-guides,2048" target="_blank">earthquake triggered a massive avalanche</a> that killed 22 climbers at Base Camp. Many of the fatalities in both years were Sherpa guides from Phortse. Despite the danger, Phortse honours and celebrates its climbers like heroes. One such is the late &nbsp;Nima Tshiring Sherpa, who was a porter and guide in the 1953 John Hunt expedition in which Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay became the first to set foot on the world’s highest summit.&nbsp; Nima Tshiring and his eldest son Pasang Gyalzen both reached 8,000m carrying expedition gear for the Hunt expedition in 1953. Nima Tshiring had eight sons and a daughter and although he never submitted himself, most of them have climbed Mt Everest at least once. In fact, his children and grandchildren have been to the top of Mt Everest a total of 81 times — a record for any family in Nepal.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251011171048_a55e45bee2b5bbf38e4ee5bcea101edcc3041f40e331b8fee44e473457f42553.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251011171048_a55e45bee2b5bbf38e4ee5bcea101edcc3041f40e331b8fee44e473457f42553" data-rendition-name="original" width="2144" height="1436" loading="lazy" alt="Sherpa climbers"> <figcaption>Nima Tshiring Sherpa with wife and children in Phortse. An unanmed Everest climber on right.</figcaption> </figure>  “We were born in Phortse which is in the lap of Everest, our identity is Chomolungma,” says one of his sons, Panuru, using the Sherpa name for the mountain. “In fact, I feel our entire family was born to climb Everest.”&nbsp; Phortse has a population of 350 people living in 95 households. Besides Nima Tshiring’s clan, more than 75 of the inhabitants have climbed Everest, many of them multiple times.&nbsp; Another one of Nima Tshiring’s sons, Ngawang climbed Everest 11 times, his brother Mingma Dorje has summited 14 times, and another brother Ngati not only got to the top seven times, but was the first climber to reach the peak from the Chinese side and descend down the Nepal part of Mt Everest. Ngati was killed in an avalanche on Annapurna while climbing with an American expedition in 1993.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251011171044_60693527b31aba22fe6f6c233cf367a3683b88be8dc2a53bfb5c2c02b2db1e5b.png" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20251011171044_60693527b31aba22fe6f6c233cf367a3683b88be8dc2a53bfb5c2c02b2db1e5b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2242" height="1660" loading="lazy" alt="Sherpa climbers"> <figcaption>Mingma Dorje has climbed Everest 14 times.</figcaption> </figure>  Panuru himself has reached the summit of Everest 16 times, and set up the<a href="https://www.khumbuclimbingcenter.com/" target="_blank"> Khumbu Climbing Centre</a> in 2003 to train others in climbing techniques. Following in his footsteps was another brother Mingma Tshiring, who has been up 15 times and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/sherpaland-co-usa" target="_blank">now lives in Colorado</a>.&nbsp; Nima Tshiring’s only daughter Mingma Yangji has also climbed Cho Oyu, Ama Dablam and other &nbsp;Himalayan mountains. Her husband Lhakpa Chiri has climbed Everest 11 times. Counting him, the total summits for the family would be 92. This number also does not include other Himalayan eight-thousanders besides Mt Everest that the family from Phortse has summited. Nima Tsiring’s youngest son is Danuru who has climbed Everest 16 times, and has been on top of North American peaks from his base in Colorado. He is giving Everest yet another try.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251011171048_cd3e2961567ca507fc4110c97e01d85ee1c7e35f787276564ff59a4a76151fe2.png" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20251011171048_cd3e2961567ca507fc4110c97e01d85ee1c7e35f787276564ff59a4a76151fe2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1308" height="980" loading="lazy" alt="Sherpa climbers"> <figcaption>Nima Tshiring Sherpa and his son Danuru.</figcaption> </figure>  Even his grandchildren are following Nima Tshiring’s footsteps up Everest. Panuru’s son Lhakpa has climbed Everest from both sides and wants to break previous Everest records.&nbsp; “It is a dangerous occupation, but the rewards in terms of fame and money are substantial,” says Danuru. “One season’s income is enough for a Phortse climber to support his family for a year. And we have Chomolungma to be thankful for.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251011171048_d1f16e3925890663cadf3e20d955a531f21c479708f662df371fad3fdb87cf7a.png" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20251011171048_d1f16e3925890663cadf3e20d955a531f21c479708f662df371fad3fdb87cf7a" data-rendition-name="original" width="760" height="1040" loading="lazy" alt="Sherpa climbers"> <figcaption>Mingma Tshiring with client.</figcaption> </figure>

Nepal’s most prolific mountaineering clan

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

The annual United Nations General Assembly is always an occasion for taking stock of the state of the world. But this year, on the 80th anniversary of the UN’s founding, it was also an occasion to take stock of the organisation itself.
By any measure, the UN’s situation is dire. While Russian aggression against Ukraine and mounting tensions between the United States and China cannot be blamed on the UN, they do highlight a fundamental problem. The UN Security Council – where China, Russia, and the US each wield a veto – is locked in a permanent confrontation over one issue or another, blocking the rest of the organisation from moving forward on almost anything.
Consider the situation in the Middle East, where the UN has played a central role in conflict resolution and peacemaking ever since the State of Israel was established (under a UN resolution). Numerous UN peacekeeping operations in the region have helped to alleviate tensions, and massive humanitarian efforts, primarily aimed at Palestinian refugee communities, have saved countless lives. While the UN has not forged a lasting peace, it has certainly helped prevent some wars and shorten others.
In recent years, however, the UN has increasingly been sidelined. The so-called Quartet – the UN, the US, the European Union, and Russia – is now a distant memory, and numerous UN operations have come under direct attack, primarily by Israel. The Israeli government not only questions the humanitarian efforts of UNRWA (the UN Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees) but now also blocks the organisation’s work whenever it can.
Before Hamas’s October 7, 2023, attack on Israel, the UN was essential to keeping the situation in Gaza relatively stable. Though it couldn’t overcome divisions among the Palestinians, especially after Hamas assumed power in Gaza in 2006, it could, and did, help provide the basic means of survival for the enclave’s two million people. But now Israel has questioned or attacked virtually every aspect of the UN’s work on this issue, and it could not have done so without America’s tacit support. US President Donald Trump, in particular, has proved willing to accept virtually everything that Israeli Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu’s extremist government does.
Meanwhile, the UN has struggled to mobilise an effective response in South Sudan, a semi-failed state, and in Sudan, where a devastating civil war is entering its third year. Similarly, from the Katanga secession in 1960-63 to the recent peace operations in northeastern Congo, Central Africa continues to preoccupy UN peacekeepers and mediators.
Around the world, there is no shortage of crises that demand UN engagement – from Gaza and Sudan to the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Haiti, Myanmar, and Afghanistan, to name just a few. But with the larger powers fixated on their confrontations with one another, and with the Trump administration withdrawing not only active support but also funding, the outlook for the UN appears grim.
The US provides 25% of UN funding, but it has <a href="https://www.project-syndicate.org/commentary/united-nations-must-adapt-or-die-by-adekeye-adebajo-2025-09" target="_blank">stopped</a> sending its contributions. It also traditionally accounts for an even larger share of voluntary financing for humanitarian operations, but these funds, too, have been cut. Making matters worse, China, the UN’s second-largest contributor, is also behind on its payments.
With its financial situation growing desperate, UN Secretary-General <a href="https://www.project-syndicate.org/columnist/antonio-guterres" target="_blank">António Guterres</a> warns that staff across the organisation will need to be cut by <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2025/sep/18/united-nations-un-2026-budget-job-losses-us-funding-cuts" target="_blank">one-fifth</a>. Morale is said to be low, as is the prospect of a change for the better. With his recent address to the General Assembly, Trump made clear that he has nothing but contempt for the organisation. The only role he seems able to see for it is to help him get a Nobel Peace Prize. The Trump administration’s forthcoming review of America’s multilateral commitments is almost certain to deliver more bad news.
Does the UN have any future? While the demand for it is as great as ever, its ability to deliver has obviously been diminished. There is no way for it to survive without scaling back its ambitions and abilities; precisely how it goes about this will be a central issue over the next few years.
With Guterres’s tenure ending in 2026, the process of selecting his successor will also have to feature a debate about ensuring the UN’s long-term survival. Moving the headquarters out of the US is a natural step, owing not only to the withdrawal of US funding and the need for cost savings, but also to the US refusal to grant visas to those attending UN gatherings (as it did with the Palestinian leadership this year).
Yes, a UN that is no longer headquartered in New York would be different in many ways. But relocation also may be the only way for it to survive. Dag Hammarskjöld, the UN’s second secretary-general, famously <a href="https://ask.un.org/faq/14623" target="_blank">remarked</a> that the body was not created to deliver Heaven, but rather to spare us from Hell. That task remains as important as ever. But for things to stay the same, everything must change. © Project Syndicate
Carl Bildt is a former prime minister and foreign minister of Sweden.

To survive, the UN must leave the US

Already trying to balance youth demands with legal provisions in the Constitution, Prime Minister Sushila Karki’s interim government faced yet another challenge over Dasain: a receding monsoon dumped unseasonal rain unleashing floods and landslides that killed at least 60, mostly in eastern Nepal.&nbsp; The government was rated positively for its early warning and the ‘visibility’ of its disaster response, with many comparing it to the inaction of the NC-UML coalition during last year’s floods.&nbsp; Government agencies and police proactively closed off hazardous sections of highways as Kathmandu was marooned from the rest of the country in the peak holiday season. Stranded passengers were taken care of, with police, army and local governments in Ilam coordinating rescue and relief efforts. Many of the problems were structural and inherited from decades of neglect and corruption in highway contracts. Shoddy bridges and encroachment of settlements along river banks have increased risk from more frequent extreme weather caused by climate breakdown. With Dasain over Tihar around the corner and the worst of the disaster behind, the Karki administration is trying to balance the separate demands of GenZ movers and shakers who installed her in office with constitutional provisions. It has not helped that the badly-mauled political parties are spoiling for a fight, and the three top leaders show little signs of stepping down. “Nepal’s movement did not happen in a democratic vacuum, so this government walks a very fine line in political legitimacy," says Bidushi Dhungel of the National Democratic Institute in Nepal. "In this fragile space, whatever the work done — or not done— by the interim government within its limited mandate, it may open up avenues for further dissent from old and new actors. They are &nbsp;caught between a rock and a hard place.” Civil society activists issued a statement on Wednesday calling on the main political parties to heed the writing on the wall and reform themselves. Signed by professor Krishna Khanal and former ambassador Keshab Mathema, the statement said: 'The main leaders of the main parties should say sorry, and voluntarily resign ... they must respect public sentiments and work to reform and transform their parties to be more accountable to the public, or risk being irrelevant.'&nbsp; Complicating matters further are the sometimes contradictory demands of various GenZ factions on punishing those responsible for the carnage and rampage of 8-9 September, Constitution and elections. Karki faces calls to immediately detain former PM KP Oli and Home Minister Ramesh Lekhak for their involvement in the massacre outside Parliament. Under pressure from GenZ delegates, Home Minister Om Aryal fired off a letter to the police to arrest Oli and Lekhak. But later at a confrontational midnight meeting at the prime minister’s residence in Baluwatar, all four security chiefs advised Karki that arresting the UML and NC ex-ministers could unleash violent confrontation on the streets. The interim government is in a bind. It has formed a committee headed by Gauri Bahadur Karki to investigate the killings last month as well as the arson and vandalism that followed. The question is: should it wait for the committee to submit its report before punishing perpetrators, or let police arrest those who can easily be identified in social media posts setting fire to Singha Darbar, the Supreme Court and other sites.&nbsp; GenZ’s Sudan Gurung faction has gone beyond its original demand to submit an 8-point ultimatum that includes the sacking of the Chief Justice and officials of the anti-corruption bureau.&nbsp; The Prime Minister is caught in the crossfire between managing the expectations of a movement that appointed her, and working within the framework of her interim government’s mandate and Constitution. But it is not just the government that faces challenges. The lack of clear consensus among youth factions and their outspoken collectives is surfacing.&nbsp; &nbsp;“This has been a leaderless and decentralised movement, and the traditional variables typically seen in a political revolt seem missing here," notes political scientist Sucheta Pyakuryal. “There is no organised structure, nor any ideological pull factor, therefore a big question is how much bargaining power does a movement like this have, and how sustainable will it be.” GenZ leaders seem to be in two main camps. Demands like the one for a directly elected prime minister, and the constitutional processes that can make for such an outcome, have emerged as a major point dividing the movement.&nbsp; Nepalis both within and outside the youth movement are watching Hami Nepal’s Sudan Gurung closely — especially after his recent interview with Al-Jazeera during which he expressed his interest to run for Prime Minister and seemed to not accept a win by political parties in the March elections.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251009201044_fcba7e92bb9a8812fd0ad4e9770d6f4d4189972de5229f91e9a832a26e388901.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251009201044_fcba7e92bb9a8812fd0ad4e9770d6f4d4189972de5229f91e9a832a26e388901" data-rendition-name="original" width="2916" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="One month on NT"> <figcaption>GROUND ZERO: The destroyed centre of Nepal's government with Singha Darbar (in green scaffolding), the Attorney General's Office, Supreme Court, and in the distance, Parliament building. Also seen are the nearly finished new Parliament Complex and the new Supreme Court buildings. Drone shot taken on Thursday morning. Photo: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>  Gurung’s participation in the NDRRMA’s disaster management meeting and manner of his interaction with officials at the event was met with both bouquets and brickbats. Interestingly, some of the criticism was youth activists themselves. &nbsp;“There's a lot of self-involvement and self-importance that seems to be guiding a fragmented young leadership, as opposed to constructively engaging in how to concretise reforms,” says Dhungel. “There seems to be very little stocktaking of what's happened in the past, and what's happened in other countries to try identify where lapses could be before they occur."&nbsp; In the absence of unified positions and level-headed leadership, the youth who spearheaded post-protest negotiations, as well as the GenZ movement in general, risk losing public goodwill already dented by the destruction of state property on 9 September. This also leaves an opening for political parties which are on the defensive and licking their wounds to capitalise on youth discord.&nbsp; Says Pyakuryal: “Post revolution, the political landscape becomes extremely unpredictable and therefore there is a risk of co-optation from several Machiavellian political actors including political parties, monarchists, as well as other forces, and that is concerning.” The immediate and visible transformation that Nepal’s youth expect will not manifest right away, and while there is a need for long-term political planning, the caretaker government must also undertake measures that have a palpable impact on the daily life of citizens. &nbsp;&nbsp; “While youth frustrations must be addressed urgently, statecraft isn’t just about fulfilling short-term goals,”says Pyakuryal. &nbsp; Many, including the youth themselves, now see the need for GenZ to have a more united stance and to move beyond making demands that the interim government cannot fulfil and start mobilising for elections — even by forming its own party.&nbsp; A strong showing in elections can enable them to enact the changes they want to strengthen Nepal’s democracy, and make future governments more accountable.&nbsp; This week, the Election Commission announced 16 November as the deadline to register new parties for the 5 March polls.&nbsp; Youth representatives have said that they want to be active participants in the political process, particularly in national-level politics. The Constitution defines ‘youth’ as being between the ages of 16-40. In the 2022 elections, the Election Commission stated that over 41% of locally-elected representatives were from ages 21-40 years.&nbsp; If young Nepalis are to contest the election outside the banner of mainstream parties, this leaves electoral aspirants little more than a month to decide whether to form a loose coalition with existing parties, a separate political party, or to contest elections independently. “This is first of a kind movement, where political language is digital, not ideological, where organising is done through online platforms and where there is no one leader spearheading the movement,”says Pyakuryal. “I don’t know if ‘anti-corruption’ or ‘political reform’ have a strong enough ideological pull to band people together in the long run.” Indeed, the RSP was formed only four months before the 2022 elections and cashed in on anti-incumbent and anti-corruption sentiments of voters — mainly driven by social media. But controversy and strife within their party means it has largely lost its public trust.&nbsp; Nepal’s September Uprising and its aftermath have shown that a majority of young people are entirely disillusioned with establishment parties and politicians, even using ‘ex-political parties’ as a phrase of reference. Any new young political figures that emerge from this movement and this election will have to work with mainstream parties in a multiparty democracy.&nbsp; &nbsp;“The reality of politics is that change is not possible without engaging with existing political institutions and actors,” says Dhungel. “To say that they do not want to engage, negotiate, or identify allies or proactively seek out input from at least the reform-minded individuals within each of those outfits is political naivety, and may lead to a lack of institutionalised reform.” However, Dhungel notes that the youth leadership would have more agency if they are clear not just on what they want to change, but about whether they are interested in active politics or civic engagement. “The window of opportunity that is fast closing is to really negotiate hard and push for internal reforms within political parties and across the electoral system,” she adds. Pyakurel also adds: “GenZ are smart and politically mature, I hope they see these loopholes. I am optimistic about the direction they take.”