GenZ and Aragalaya

In the heart of Nepal, amidst the breathtaking beauty of the Himalaya, a very different story is unfolding. It is not one of towering peaks and serene landscapes, but of a young generation that dreams of a brighter future while being trapped by decades of political instability and entrenched corruption.

For many young Nepalis, life is a constant struggle with poverty and unemployment. In a country where the per capita income is only about $1,400, a youth unemployment rate of 20% has forced more than 800,000 people each year to leave their homeland in search of work abroad. 

This exodus is not just an economic decision — it is a profound disillusionment with the government, a ‘silent referendum’ on its ability to lead the country toward prosperity.

In the months leading up to the recent uprising, social media platforms were filled with posts exposing the extravagant lifestyles of the so-called #Nepokids, the privileged children of politicians. These images revealed the stark gulf between the political elite and ordinary citizens, deepening the frustration of Nepal’s youth.

That anger finally exploded after 5 September, when the government banned 26 social media platforms — including Facebook, YouTube, X, and WhatsApp — claiming it was a necessary move to curb hate speech and fake news. For nearly half of Nepal’s population who are active on social media, the ban felt like nothing less than an attempt to silence their voices.

Massive street protests followed. What began as peaceful demonstrations on 8 September quickly escalated into violent clashes with police, leaving more than 20 people dead. Protesters stormed the Parliament and Supreme Court buildings, Singha Darbar, and attacked the residences of the president and prime minister. It became one of the largest uprisings in Nepal’s history. 

Prime Minister K P Sharma Oli resigned, the GenZ is negotiating with the Nepal Army and President Ram Chandra Paudel. It remained unclear till Thursday press time if the unrest will subside as rival GenZ groups put forward their own candidates for interim prime minister.

SRI LANKAN PARALLELS

Young Nepalis no longer want the same leaders who they see as having deceived them for decades. They demand renewal and a brighter horizon. Still, how realistic is such a demand? As history reminds us, every polity gets what it deserves.

Most of the Communist parties that claim to represent the oppressed have themselves been central players in fragile coalition governments by partisan clannishness, personal selfishness, and unaccountable leaders, locking the country into cycles of weak and unstable rule.

As a Sri Lankan political activist, I cannot help but notice the striking parallels between Nepal’s trajectory and ours. Nepal had left-wing governments well before Sri Lanka, where the Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna (JVP)–led National People’s Power (NPP) only came to power in 2025. Nepal has been under left-leaning governments since 2008.

Yet, despite the rhetoric of Marxism, both our countries face very limited economic and political options. In Sri Lanka, the economic policies pursued by capitalist President Ranil Wickremesinghe were almost identical to those later followed by Marxist President Anura Kumara Dissanayake.

In our case, the 2022 ‘Aragalaya’ movement was much like Nepal’s GenZ struggle. It ended after President Ranil Wickremesinghe assumed power. In the aftermath, the JVP gradually brought the Aragalaya forces under its control. 

Their sweeping electoral victory in late 2024 was powered by the hopes of these protest forces. But today, the same question hangs over Colombo as it does over Kathmandu: can a new government really meet the impatient and ambitious expectations of young people? 

Already in Sri Lanka, doubts abound — about broken promises, lack of real progress, one-party dominance, and even the risk of yet another national bankruptcy.

Traditionally, governments in South Asia have changed through elections. But recent years show another pattern: pre-electoral uprisings, sudden eruptions triggered not by slow build-up but by specific events.

In Sri Lanka, it was the energy crisis during bankruptcy. In Bangladesh, it was a law granting privileges to war veterans. In Nepal, the crackdown on social media was the trigger.

Social media has become central to all these movements. Those who manage the platforms at the country level hold immense power. Their ability to manipulate algorithms, combined with the small size of their teams, makes their influence even greater.

I personally witnessed Sri Lanka’s Aragalaya closely. From the creation of the #GoHomeGota hashtag to the dramatic ouster of President Gotabaya Rajapaksa on 9 July, 2022, social media shaped the very reality of our political struggle.

Certain moments in crisis politics prove decisive. In Sri Lanka, the events of 9 May 2022 was one of the most destructive days in the country’s recent history, with the greatest property damage in a short span of time. Mobilisation, arson, violence, and killings were coordinated primarily through social media.

Ordinary people, not usually powerful, became decisive actors thanks to social media. By midday, the momentum of the Aragalaya was fading whereas Prime Minister Mahinda Rajapaksa had agreed to resign. The turning point came when a pro-government rally held at Temple Trees, the Prime Minister’s official residence to bid him farewell turned into a march toward Galle Face. 

This procession, which could have been stopped by then-Deputy Inspector General Deshabandu Tennakoon, instead broke into the protest site, attacking Aragalaya activists. The violent attack as well as the counterattacks that followed were all broadcast live on social media and television, electrifying public opinion, which had been lukewarm until then, redirecting anger toward counter-violence. 

The role of media in this transformation demands deeper analysis. There were clear patterns in social media content in those critical hours, much of which has since been removed by service providers. Even those who originally streamed Facebook Live videos cannot retrieve them today. 

One peculiar detail stays with me. A military-experienced friend pointed out that in many of the burned houses, toilets had been deliberately smashed. He explained the symbolic nature: destroying sewage systems could render entire cities uninhabitable. How such symbolism wove itself into the protests remains an unresolved mystery, like many other secrets.

At times, literature steps in to fill the gaps history leaves behind. Fiction can serve as a symbolic mirror of reality. With my novel Arunodakaruwo (Dawnbreakers), I attempted to imagine the political undercurrents of such decisive moments.

Arunodakaruwo has since been published in Sinhala. Its English translation, #Dawnbreakers, was recently long-listed for the Vidarshana Literary Awards. I believe this form of literature — blending political memory with imagination — is an essential intervention.

Ajith Perakum Jayasinghe is a Sri Lankan political activist and writer.