Nepal’s meme revolution
Vishad Raj Onta
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.