Today, migration is no longer about awe-inspiring journeys of Xuanzang, Marco Polo, Ibn Battuta, or James Cook. They ventured across oceans and deserts in expeditions into unknown lands without permits and sometimes even received an audience with curious royalty.
We overlook the migration of the earliest humans, those bold crossings over <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/knowing-our-mountains">mountains</a> and plains, rivers and seas, islands and continents, by people who knew no boundaries, only the pull of necessity, survival, and discovery. They exercised the most ancient human freedom: the freedom of movement.&nbsp;
Now, when we hear the word migration, our minds leap not to the journey but to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/free-visa-free-ticket-policy-in-limbo?%2F">borders, passports, patrols, visas</a>. We ask whether someone’s movement is ‘legal’ or ‘illegal’, allowed or forbidden. We debate thresholds and quotas, risks and threats. Rarely do we ask the more human question: does a person not have the right to seek safety, pursue happiness, or simply <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/behind-the-cliff">go on an adventure </a>elsewhere?
For most of human history, the idea that one needed permission to move would have been absurd. Questioning human migration was questioning human nature — it still is. For over 90% of our existence as <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=434">hunter-gatherers</a>, humans were entirely dependent on movement.
Even with the rise of agriculture and the building of cities, migration remained natural to individual and social life. Entire communities shifted with the seasons. Trade and travel routes like the Silk Road, the trans-Saharan highways were arteries of constant movement. Nomadic peoples endured. Even the settled recognised<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/migration-not-a-wish-but-necessity-for-nepalis"> migration as a response</a> to drought, war, or opportunity. One needed no reason, or any reason would suffice.
This right to move is older than nearly all others. It predates the right to property, the most revered right in American political mythology. The right to the ‘pursuit of happiness’, enshrined in the US Declaration of Independence (1776), presupposes freedom of movement. Before there was<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/no-freedom-after-expression-y4inku06"> freedom of speech</a>, freedom of religion, the right to vote, or the right to due process, there was the right to migrate.&nbsp;
Often, it was the only freedom you could use to protect other personal rights by going to a new place. As the most respected freedom, it was the guardian of all other rights and freedoms.
Religious traditions elevated migration into a moral duty. The Buddha’s Great Renunciation, the exiles in the Ramayana and Mahabharata, and the Anishinaabe migration were considered sacred journeys shaping both the self and the world.
But<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/india-has-arrived"> the rise of modern nation-states</a>, colonial cartographies, and rigid immigration regimes has replaced this freedom with control. The invention of passports, visa systems, and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/security-or-espionage">surveillance bureaucracies</a> has shackled what was once humanity’s most basic instinct. A species that roamed the earth for millennia now finds itself trapped inside boxes, walled by citizenship papers, embassies, fences, and checkpoints.
Ironically, it was the very colonial powers that moved freely across oceans and continents in search of resources and dominion turned around to criminalise movement when it came from the margins.
When the Universal Declaration of Human Rights was adopted, freedom of movement was included but subtly severed from the act of migration. The right to leave was affirmed, the right to enter was not. It was a masterstroke of legal illusion, a political magic trick from the Western sleeve that has since cast a spell over global consciousness. A disillusion so complete, we forgot that the right to leave was also a right to arrive.&nbsp;
They even manufactured some baseless rights like preemptive self-defence, preemptive strikes, trade liberalisation, and economic embargo, but somehow framed the right to migrate as too unrealistic, too disruptive, too dangerous to recognise.
Denying the right to free movement has never been merely a matter of security or order, it reflects much deeper structural concerns. Facilitating and even coercing the flow of capital and resources from the Global South while restricting the movement of people ensures that global inequality remains entrenched, locking entire populations into structural disadvantage.
Today, we speak of migration as a problem. A disruption to be managed. We no longer greet migrants with wonder. We do not ask about their journeys, their struggles, their dreams. We fear them.
Our attention has shifted from people to policies, from humanity to geography. People are trapped in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/world-wars">war zones</a>, failing economies, and ecological disasters, not because they cannot escape, but because they are not allowed to. The powerful still glide across borders with ease, the vulnerable are held hostage by the coordinates of their birth.
This system has seeded hatred and xenophobia, nationalism, and exploitation. It has enabled trafficking where safe passage is denied. It has weaponised difference and built moral hierarchies out of geography.
To forget this freedom is not only to forget our past, it is to endanger our future. In boxing humanity into artificial lines, we have betrayed <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/%20identical-political-trajectories-in-Nepal-and-South-Africa,4057">the very idea of freedom</a>. We have turned a natural preservation instinct, a birthright, into a crime. We have silenced the journey. And in doing so, we have not only lost sight of our first freedom, we have lost a piece of what it means to be human.
Bashir Mobasher, PhD, teaches at the American University, New York University and the American University of Afghanistan Departments of Political Science.&nbsp;

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Guest Editorial

The first freedom

Durga Buda is in Grade 10 in a school in the remote mountains of western Nepal. Not long ago, she saw a personal computer for the first time. Many young women in this socially conservative region are limited to housework, herding livestock, &nbsp;before being married off. But for Durga, the flickering computer monitor is a portal to a whole new world out there – a world filled with possibilities she had never imagined. Through a peer-led after school program known as EDGE (English and Digital for Girls’ Education) Durga is no longer intimidated by the computer, soon browsing the Internet and speaking English with confidence. Knowledge of English and access to the Internet combine to give Durga and her fellow students access to a world of knowledge they did not before. They now have a voice long denied them by &nbsp;their families and communities. Durga’s story is not unique. Millions of girls across South Asia and the developing world remain cut off from the skills that could redefine their future. Science, technology, engineering, and mathematics (STEM) are reshaping every part of modern life, yet female students in many countries are systematically excluded from these fields. Deep-rooted social norms, limited access, and a lack of female role models hold them back from a field traditionally regarded as a male domain. The result is inequality, and a loss of potential, for individuals, communities, and entire countries. Globally, women make up less than 30% of researchers, with even fewer in high-growth areas like computer science and engineering. This disparity is even more pronounced in South Asia. Interest in STEM subjects among girls tends to drop off by age 15, often due to a lack of encouragement, inadequate resources, and few visible examples of women succeeding in these fields. Without early interventions, the gender gap in STEM only widens with time. This is why early STEM education like the one in the rural school in Nepal matters. Encouraging girls to explore and build practical, problem-solving skills from a young age in safe, inclusive environments not only develops their capabilities but also boosts their confidence. Digital fluency is fast becoming the new literacy, from managing mobile payments to building educational apps; and girls must be part of that conversation. The British Council’s EDGE program offers a promising pathway forward. Operating across multiple countries, it sets up after-school clubs where girls develop foundational skills in English, digital literacy, and social interaction. EDGE strongly aligns with it goals through its emphasis on digital proficiency, language skills, critical thinking, and problem-solving using ICT tools. At the heart of the program is a distinctive, peer-led learning and leadership model. Girls are trained as Peer Group Leaders, who mentor others and lead collaborative learning activities. This approach fosters a human-centered, inclusive environment where girls build confidence, navigate both online and offline learning spaces, and develop the skills to speak up and thrive in fields often dominated by men. Over 20,000 female students have participated in EDGE in Nepal and other South Asian countries. Participants marked improvements in English speaking, digital skills, and self- confidence. Many go on to lead their own clubs, becoming role models in their schools and villages. In Nepal alone, 98% of surveyed participants reported feeling more confident, and 87% credited EDGE with helping them improve their grades. More importantly, 92% said the program encouraged them to pursue higher education, although only 13% are currently enrolled, pointing to systemic barriers beyond the reach of the program. Girls like Simrika Giri who joined EDGE as a participant later returned as Peer Group Leaders, challenging stereotypes, opening doors for others, and are more likely to find jobs. Some students in Nepal credit their EDGE experience directly for securing NGO or teaching positions. The impact of programs like EDGE goes far beyond the classroom. In many communities, the achievements of the students challenge long-standing patriarchal norms and spark conversations about social justice through a STEM-informed lens. Events like ICT fairs and community showcases give parents and local leaders a front-row seat to what girls can truly accomplish. Durga Buda’s story is a powerful example. Once expected to become a daughter-in-law at a young age, she is now seen as a symbol of possibilities that come from access to digital tools and consistent support. Changing one student at a time, survey data shows that 95% of EDGE participants believe family attitudes toward girl’s education have improved since they joined the program.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025090216098_18e8bdc3fcca28270428089ec4f4d0300443a67eb55fdf9ccfcf6a6cb7842abd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025090216098_18e8bdc3fcca28270428089ec4f4d0300443a67eb55fdf9ccfcf6a6cb7842abd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1800" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Taking STEM to the grassroots"> <figcaption></figcaption></figure>  The British Council’s Women in STEM Scholarships is a global initiative which enables women from Nepal to pursue master’s degrees in cutting-edge fields such as artificial intelligence, biomedical engineering, data science, and renewable energy at leading UK universities. It covers full tuition, living expenses, and travel costs. Last year, six Nepali women were awarded the scholarship, a significant milestone that underscores both the talent and the untapped potential of young women in Nepal. This is not just about studying abroad, it means stepping into leadership in fields that are shaping the future. When women are given the tools to lead in such spaces, the benefits extend far beyond individual achievement, they spark change at the community and national level. STEM education also helps girls become informed citizens by cultivating civic education and democratic values. Digital literacy enables them to access information, stay safe online, and engage in public life. Girls with prior digital training are more likely to stay engaged in learning activities and less vulnerable to early marriage or isolation. In fragile settings, these skills can be lifelines. The economic argument is compelling. Closing the gender gap in STEM could add to the national GDP of countries, but the moral imperative is just as strong. No society can thrive while excluding half its population from shaping its future. The climate crisis, public health emergencies, and digital transformation all demand diverse, inclusive leadership. If there’s one lesson from EDGE, and similar efforts, it’s that change is possible, and it starts early. Girls like Durga and Simrika are learning new digital and English skills, but they’re also reshaping what is possible for themselves and for those who come after to build their common futures. Bhogendra Lamichhane is the English and School Education Lead at the British Council in Nepal and is involved in the EDGE program. Dinesh Sanjel, who leads the Language and Inclusivity in Foundational Education (LIFE) at the British Council project contributed in preparing this article.

Opinion

Taking STEM to the grassroots

The world’s largest corporations now rival most governments – not only in terms of revenue and assets, but also in their ability to shape political outcomes. Their power is reinforced by the immense personal fortunes of billionaires, which enable them to wield disproportionate influence over <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/big-beautiful-bills">public policies, laws, and regulations</a>.
Crucially, extreme concentrations of wealth and power could not have developed without the active support of policymakers, whether tacit or explicit. Consequently, being an oligarch is inherently precarious.
Crony capitalism may grant enormous advantages, but it also carries built-in risks. Chief among them is <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/slapping-democracy">political change</a>: new leadership, whether elected or imposed, may not extend the same protections or privileges to elites favored by the previous government.
That danger is especially acute in authoritarian or personality-driven regimes, where leaders’ whims often override institutional checks. The <a href="https://edition.cnn.com/business/timeline-elon-musk-trump-x-dg">on-again, off-again bromance</a> between US President Donald Trump and Elon Musk is an obvious example.
As <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-geopolitics-of-nepal-s-politics">geopolitical tensions</a> escalate, however, oligarchs are no longer contending solely with domestic challenges. Increasingly caught in global power struggles, they have become convenient targets for hostile foreign powers seeking to pressure or undermine the leaders they support.
The <a href="https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2023/4/12/us-and-uk-announce-new-sanctions-targeting-russian-ultra-wealthy">sanctions</a> imposed by the United States and the European Union on oligarchs linked to Russian President Vladimir Putin following the 2022 invasion of Ukraine are a case in point. While these measures have done little to change the course of the war, they have profoundly disrupted the lives and businesses of those affected.
Indian billionaires Gautam Adani and Mukesh Ambani have also found themselves in America’s crosshairs. Both have profited enormously from their ties to Prime Minister Narendra Modi – a fellow Gujarati – with their fortunes growing in tandem with his political ascent. This has made them useful bargaining chips in the ongoing trade negotiations between the US and India.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-and-the-us-india-tariff-tiff">Nepal and the US-India tariff tiff</a>, Sudiksha Tuladhar
To be sure, Ambani’s Reliance Group had already mastered the art of leveraging political influence to advance its business interests well before Modi rose to power. But Ambani’s alliance with Modi has pushed Reliance’s dominance to new heights. Adani’s rise, by contrast, is <a href="https://thewire.in/political-economy/why-gautam-adani-is-a-factor-in-india-us-ties">inextricably tied to Modi</a>, dating back to the latter’s tenure as chief minister of Gujarat.
Both oligarchs, particularly Adani, have relied on their proximity to Modi to expand their business empires, benefiting from regulatory reforms tailored to their interests and <a href="https://www.cnbctv18.com/aviation/adani-winning-bids-for-six-airports-former-head-of-privatisation-panel-explains-key-policy-changes-15898141.htm">acquiring state assets</a> through lucrative privatization deals, often without a public tender. They have also moved into new sectors by <a href="https://www.freepressjournal.in/business/full-timeline-of-how-gvk-and-adanis-changing-fortunes-sealed-mumbai-airports-fate">purchasing successful firms</a> targeted by Modi’s administration, effectively neutralizing potential competitors.
Moreover, Ambani and Adani have enjoyed privileged access to publicly owned banks, receiving favourable loan terms that allowed them to <a href="https://www.thehindu.com/news/national/companies-bought-over-by-the-adani-group-got-haircut-of-96-to-42-on-loans-from-public-sector-banks-congress/article68606029.ece">restructure</a> their debts with minimal scrutiny. Their political connections, evidenced by frequent appearances alongside Modi during his international trips, have helped them secure <a href="https://www.newsclick.in/%E2%80%98Beneficiaries%E2%80%99-Modi%E2%80%99s-Globetrotting-Adani-Ambani">major contracts abroad</a>.
These political alliances have translated into lenient regulatory treatment. In Adani’s case, allegations that he has engaged in stock manipulation through opaque shell companies in offshore tax havens – exposed by US-based <a href="https://www.reuters.com/world/india/adani-vs-hindenburg-research-what-you-need-know-2024-01-03/">short-seller Hindenburg Research</a> – were met with a muted response. Regulatory bodies like the Securities and Exchange Board of India declined to pursue a serious investigation.
Officially, Ambani has come under scrutiny for profiting from the <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2025/08/09/business/india-russian-oil-ambani.html">resale of Russian oil</a>, effectively circumventing US sanctions, while Adani is being investigated for <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/c748y8e4093o">alleged bribery</a>. But Trump’s actions appear to be a calculated attempt to pressure Modi through his inner circle. Adding insult to injury, they come from a US president whom Modi has long described as a “<a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2025/07/31/world/asia/modi-trump-india-tariffs.html">true friend</a>”.
Modi has claimed that his sole concern is protecting Indian farmers – a statement that would surely come as a surprise to the farmer protest movement, which his government has long vilified and suppressed.
Trump, for his part, insists that his priority is securing a better deal for American producers and workers. In reality, many of his key demands are aimed at advancing the interests of US-based multinationals and those of <a href="https://economictimes.indiatimes.com/industry/services/property-/-cstruction/trump-calls-indias-economy-dead-but-trump-towers-earn-thousands-of-crores-from-gurgaon-mumbai-pune-and-other-cities/articleshow/123164276.cms">his own companies</a>.
But given Trump’s track record, it’s hard to imagine that personal grievances did not play a role. Relations between the two leaders have noticeably cooled since Modi <a href="https://economictimes.indiatimes.com/news/defence/narendra-modi-trump-phone-call-pm-modi-makes-it-clear-to-trump-us-played-no-role-in-india-pakistan-ceasefire-no-talks-on-india-us-trade-deal/articleshow/121922239.cms">refused to endorse</a> Trump’s dubious claim that he helped broker the recent India-Pakistan cease-fire – a narrative Trump had hoped would strengthen his bid for a Nobel Peace Prize. Modi’s refusal to play along effectively derailed that effort.
Trump and Modi are both shrewd and self-interested enough to recognise each other’s true priorities. By attacking Modi’s tycoons, Trump may have found the most effective pressure point to extract significant concessions from the Indian government.
If Modi yields, it won’t just be a costly political blunder but also a tragedy with far-reaching consequences for India and the world economy. © Project Syndicate
Jayati Ghosh, Professor of Economics at the University of Massachusetts Amherst, is a member of the Club of Rome’s Transformational Economics Commission.&nbsp;

Trump targets Modi’s tycoons

When Gagan Singh Lama returned to Nepal after five and a half years in Qatar, he felt lost. He tried to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/overseas-job-seeker-now-creates-jobs-in-nepal">find a footing in Nepal</a>, grappling with questions like “Who am I? What is my identity?”&nbsp; Despite the earnings, portage did not give him a sense of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/from-slavery-to-salvation">professional identity</a>. Back in Nepal, he has been managing his cousin’s car wash, and recently completed a government-funded automobile mechanic training course, something he had a knack for since childhood. He plans to add services and expand the car wash.&nbsp; Studies have found that <a href="about:blank">remittances can be an important source of capital</a> for previously credit-constrained workers to start their businesses. The most favourable outcome is when skills learnt overseas are transferable or relevant back home. Some workers even return with suitcases full of equipment or recipe books from their overseas work that are relevant for planned <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/returnees-prosper-together">ventures back home</a>. But that is not always the case: technical skills gained overseas do not always transfer in Nepal. For migrant returnees a recurring theme is the need and ability to pivot by switching jobs, acquiring new skills through training programs in countries where they work, or as in the case of Gagan, skilling after they return. Prabin Shrestha and Shahadev Gurung <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/bringing-korea-s-prosperity-to-nepal">returned to Nepal</a>, but remigrated after realising that the plastic manufacturing venture they had in mind was not going to work in Nepal. Back in Korea, they switched jobs to a meat shop.&nbsp; Learning the trade inside out paid off when they came back to Nepal for good, and they now run a successful <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-meat-of-the-story">meat business</a>. Such pivots are not always feasible overseas as visa sponsorship schemes are not designed to allow job mobility, especially in the Gulf. An alternate workaround is to use off-hours or days off to take technical skills or entrepreneurship classes. There are some small-scaled initiatives targeting potential returnees at destination countries that are creating the space for workers to pivot and prepare.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250828120812_d9257b0fbf45443b38ecaeac1f9fd898e2144988026c8d2835bc6c70cfeb5f33.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250828120812_d9257b0fbf45443b38ecaeac1f9fd898e2144988026c8d2835bc6c70cfeb5f33" data-rendition-name="original" width="2944" height="1686" loading="lazy" alt="Helping migrant returnees to pivot"> </figure>  Ishwar Banamala explored entrepreneurship ideas through classes in Korea that were unrelated to his manufacturing job there. Sungyoul Seo, who manages the KOICA Reintegration (K-HaMi) in Kathmandu, says the Korean government provides legally employed migrant workers free <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/a-vision-for-vocations">vocational training</a> as part of its Employment Insurance benefits, but there are also pilot training designed specifically for Nepalis. One program provides training in Korean food, motorcycle maintenance, and trade after a survey of over 1,400 Nepalis showed a preference for these fields for their post-return plans.&nbsp; Taking classes overseas can be challenging given <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/you-must-be-having-so-much-fun-there">busy schedules with overtime work and logistical challenges</a>. But there are options for similar training back home for returnees. At a recent program in Kathmandu under the K-Hami project, for example, two Korean chefs trained returnees who hoped to start K-food restaurants, either individually or in groups. Others with existing eateries wanted to expand their menu offerings.&nbsp; Even though the workers had mostly been employed in manufacturing or agriculture in Korea, the entrepreneurship drive, cultural affinity and transferable soft skills made the training initiative an appealing pivot. There are technical and entrepreneurship programs in Nepal open to all, not just returnees. Awareness programs are important to spread the word. Workers can attest to the importance of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/now-what">less visible but important traits</a> like time management, hard work, communications and working in diverse settings that they gained overseas. Jinsol Hwang, who runs the Returnee Innovator for Nepal (RIN) program, says it is important to help people tap into their entrepreneurial mindset. Exposure to how things work overseas can spark ideas back home if they are observant and enterprising.&nbsp; Jinsol works with potential returnee entrepreneurs who carry “entrepreneurial DNA” while still in Korea and post-return. They are offered training and network support including <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/social-remittance">connecting Nepali workers with mentors in Korea</a> to learn about businesses that can eventually lead to commercial partnerships. Madushika Lansakara who heads the Reintegration of Returnee Migrant Workers (ReMi) agrees that industrious returnees have soft skills and experiences that allow them to pivot even when the technical expertise may not directly apply. The ability of returnees to switch depends on factors such as personal networks and location, with urban centres offering more opportunities. Lansakara emphasises the importance of building migrant networks in both the destination country and back home at local levels.&nbsp; Such networks can help address challenges like weaker social networks after being away for long periods, create a sense of community and belonging and open up two-way communication channels with the government. Korea returnee Santosh Dahal is one of the ten returnees who started Rasilo Agriculture Nepal, an idea that was born while they were in Korea. They collect produce from farmers across 60 districts, process, market and sell them. “We are <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/staying-in-nepal-to-create-jobs">creating jobs</a> for 60 others while also being employees and investors ourselves,” says Dahal. “Without this collective effort, we could not have operated at this scale or capitalised on our individual strengths and interests. On our own, none of us had everything it takes to run such businesses.”&nbsp; Rasilo won last year’s RIN business pitch competition, setting an example for fellow returnees. Highlighting such stories of reintegration matters so others who want to come back can learn about possibilities and pitfalls in Nepal.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829160840_43fa1a0661cba7115f32fa8fb85238593b7a426870721dac41dd5eba0c61e8db.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250829160840_43fa1a0661cba7115f32fa8fb85238593b7a426870721dac41dd5eba0c61e8db" data-rendition-name="original" width="1100" height="730" loading="lazy" alt="RIN"> </figure>  Remigration can also be a choice for many, and not everyone goes back just because nothing worked in Nepal. For many workers, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/india-bound">the cycle of return and remigration</a> is driven by ever-changing household needs, school fees, buying land or house, daughter’s wedding or parents’ health fees.&nbsp; In this race to become better providers, personal dreams and post-return plans can take a backseat. As one worker put it: “Ours is a generation of sacrifices.”&nbsp; But once they come home, many can be cast adrift. Lansakara says economic reintegration is especially difficult when households do not have multiple sources of income, or if they have outstanding debt. The financial and social remittances that returnees bring need to be valued and mobilised. But once we dig a little deeper and start questioning how, it gets more complicated.&nbsp; What practical interventions can tangibly help returnees in their journeys back home?&nbsp; Demonstration projects back in Nepal are tackling this on a small scale so returnees feel more prepared and less lost when they step out of the arrival section of the airport. &nbsp; Upasana Khadka heads Migration Lab, a social enterprise aimed at making migration outcomes better for workers and their families. Labour Mobility is a regular column in Nepali Times.

Upasana Khadka

Labour Mobility

Helping migrant returnees to pivot

Digital technology was supposed to disperse power. Early internet visionaries hoped that the revolution they were unleashing would empower individuals to free themselves from ignorance, poverty, and tyranny. And for a while, at least, it did. But today, ever-smarter algorithms increasingly predict and shape our every choice, enabling unprecedentedly effective forms of centralised, unaccountable surveillance and control. That means the coming AI revolution may render closed political systems more stable than open ones. In an age of rapid change, transparency, pluralism, checks and balances, and other key democratic features, could prove to be liabilities. Could the openness that long gave democracies their edge become the cause of their undoing? Two decades ago, I sketched a “J-curve” to illustrate the link between a country’s openness and its stability. My argument, in a nutshell, was that while mature democracies are stable because they are open, and consolidated autocracies are stable because they are closed, countries stuck in the messy middle (the nadir of the “J”) are more likely to crack under stress.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250828120820_b821cb0ebc88045a1b6c9b77800579ff408b2739db5950bdffd4cfa08ed07a25.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250828120820_b821cb0ebc88045a1b6c9b77800579ff408b2739db5950bdffd4cfa08ed07a25" data-rendition-name="original" width="747" height="576" loading="lazy" alt="Can democracy survive AI?"></figure>  But this relationship is not static, it is shaped by technology. Back then, the world was riding a wave of decentralisation. Information and communications technologies (ICT) and the internet were connecting people everywhere, arming them with more information than they had ever had access to, and tipping the scales toward citizens and open political systems. From the fall of the Berlin Wall and the Soviet Union to the colour revolutions in Eastern Europe and the Arab Spring in the Middle East, global liberalisation appeared inexorable. That progress has since been thrown into reverse. The decentralising ICT revolution gave way to a centralising data revolution built on network effects, digital surveillance, and algorithmic nudging. Instead of diffusing power, this technology concentrated it, handing those who control the largest datasets – be they governments or big technology companies – the ability to shape what billions of people see, do, and believe. As citizens were turned from principal agents into objects of technological filters and data collection, closed systems gained ground. The gains made by the colour revolutions and the Arab Spring were clawed back. Hungary and Turkey muzzled their free press and politicised their judiciaries. The Communist Party of China (CPC), under Xi Jinping, has consolidated power and reversed two decades of economic opening. And most dramatically, the United States has gone from being the world’s leading exporter of democracy – however inconsistently and hypocritically – to the leading exporter of the tools that undermine it. The diffusion of AI capabilities will supercharge these trends. Models trained on our private data will soon “know” us better than we know ourselves, programming us faster than we can program them, and transferring even more power to the few who control the data and the algorithms. Here, the J-curve warps and comes to look more like a shallow “U.” As AI spreads, both tightly closed and hyper-open societies will become relatively more fragile than they were. But over time, as the technology improves and control over the most advanced models is consolidated, AI could harden autocracies and fray democracies, flipping the shape back toward an inverted J whose stable slope now favors closed systems.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250828120820_58e057573acdcfa6e5ed33b7f873c7bb1b1f813a88f4db5d80f7f150bc259e9d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250828120820_58e057573acdcfa6e5ed33b7f873c7bb1b1f813a88f4db5d80f7f150bc259e9d" data-rendition-name="original" width="936" height="525" loading="lazy" alt="Can democracy survive AI?"></figure>  In this world, the CPC would be able to convert its vast data troves, state control of the economy, and existing surveillance apparatus into an even more potent tool of repression. The US would drift toward a more top-down, kleptocratic system in which a small club of tech titans exerts growing influence over public life in pursuit of their private interests. Both systems would become similarly centralised – and dominant – at the expense of citizens. Countries like India and the Gulf states would head the same way, while Europe and Japan would face geopolitical irrelevance (or worse, internal instability) as they fall behind in the race for AI supremacy. Dystopian scenarios such as those outlined here can be avoided, but only if decentralised open-source AI models end up on top. In Taiwan, engineers and activists are crowdsourcing an open-source model built on DeepSeek, hoping to keep advanced AI in civic, rather than corporate or state, hands. The paradox here is that DeepSeek was developed in authoritarian China. Success for these Taiwanese developers could restore some of the decentralisation the early internet once promised. Though it could also lower the barrier for malicious actors to deploy harmful capabilities. For now, however, the momentum lies with closed models centralising power. History offers at least a sliver of hope. Every previous technological revolution – from the printing press and railroads to broadcast media – destabilised politics and compelled the emergence of new norms and institutions that eventually restored balance between openness and stability. The question is whether democracies can adapt once again, and in time, before AI writes them out of the script. © Project Syndicate Ian Bremmer, Founder and President of Eurasia Group and GZERO Media, is a member of the Executive Committee of the UN High-level Advisory Body on Artificial Intelligence.

Can democracy survive AI?

It was 30 years ago this month that investment into ‘Baby Arun’, the 201MW first phase of the run-of-river Arun III project, was brought to a screeching halt when the World Bank officially withdrew its support. This brought about profound and fundamental changes in the way Nepal’s power sector subsequently developed. Nepalis suffered debilitating power outages between 2008-2016 due to shortages attributable to the cancellation. At the same time, the gap left by Baby Arun was filled by private sector investment in ways that were not obvious in 1995. It took 30 years, but in many ways Nepal’s power sector is more healthy today than it has ever been, and likely better than if the project was built as planned. At a projected budget of $1.08 billion, Baby Arun would have cost the equivalent of Nepal’s entire annual government expenditure in 1995. It was to be funded by concessional grants and loans from multilateral and bilateral funders, including the World Bank, Asian Development Bank (ADB), KfW, and investment by the government itself. At the time, Nepal’s total electricity generation capacity was only 230MW, and the trajectory of the power sector changed dramatically following the cancellation. In the past 30 years, $5.4 billion has been invested in the power sector led by private investors, and much of it from domestic banks and pension funds (table, right).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829150840_c13d6f9f34d7163832b3089eabdad6f20d2d5cef3a53039e0432add2be6c32f0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250829150840_c13d6f9f34d7163832b3089eabdad6f20d2d5cef3a53039e0432add2be6c32f0" data-rendition-name="original" width="984" height="521" loading="lazy" alt="30 years after Baby Arun"> </figure>  Nearly 70% of the new megawatts generated were by private independent power producers (IPP) in the past 30 years, while the Nepal Electricity Authority (NEA) and its subsidiary companies added 30% of new capacity. Almost 80% of total debt financing came from domestic banks and employee retirement funds. International assistance for power generation dropped dramatically over this time, accounting for only about 15% of investment. Before 1995 new power projects used to be entirely dependent on foreign aid. Since 1995, 63% of new generation came from 171 small hydropower projects with an average capacity of 12MW, while 4% was from 21 solar photovoltaic and biomass projects developed by local IPPs.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829150844_5bc299fc78be90b95ce4727b0b3bdaa4542e17e126718cc8725d136630ffc097.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250829150844_5bc299fc78be90b95ce4727b0b3bdaa4542e17e126718cc8725d136630ffc097" data-rendition-name="original" width="988" height="503" loading="lazy" alt="30 years after Baby Arun"> </figure>  Over three decades, investment in Nepal’s power supply came primarily from new actors that had never before been involved in this sector. The rate of electrification rose from 10% to close to 100% -- sufficient to meet domestic needs during most of the year, and in 2024 made Nepal a net exporter of power to India for the first time in its history. As practically all the new investment in this period went into run-of-river hydro and solar projects, rather than into hydropower reservoirs with seasonal storage, Nepal continues to rely on imports from India during the dry winter months. Surplus electricity generation for export during the monsoon is slated to grow rapidly as another 200 solar and hydro projects are nearing completion of construction, with over 5,000MW of power capacity. Private Power The cancellation of Baby Arun inadvertently accelerated the entry of the private sector into Nepal’s power generation. The government enacted the Electricity Act in 1992 to attract private IPPs and diversify away from total dependence from international aid, but had been struggling for several years to conclude the first agreement with the 60MW Khimti Project. There remained a large gap between the tariff that the government thought was reasonable versus what was demanded by the Norwegian investor Statkraft, and the private sector arms of the World Bank and ADB that were financing the project. The shock of World Bank withdrawal from Baby Arun put tremendous pressure on the government, then led by the UML as it is now. The Bank’s decision to terminate its involvement was ostensibly, at least partially, taken in response to a letter critiquing the project sent by the UML while it was in the opposition.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829150848_7fb3641d776fe86a09ad60a758f7e16660a409fdb15e541644f13646b0894347.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250829150848_7fb3641d776fe86a09ad60a758f7e16660a409fdb15e541644f13646b0894347" data-rendition-name="original" width="949" height="446" loading="lazy" alt="30 years after Baby Arun"> <figcaption>BAD NEWS: Newspaper clippings from the early 90s on tender announcement ahead of loan approval (left) and secrecy surrounding environmental assessment (centre) of Arun III before its eventual cancellation in August 1995.</figcaption> </figure>  The government was forced to soften its position and agree to the investors’ terms following the cancellation of Baby Arun. It directed NEA to sign a power purchase agreement (PPA) with Khimti. It was concluded in January 1996, and this was followed by a second PPA in July 1996 with Panda Energy, the American developer of the 45MW Upper Bhotekosi project. The expensive USD-denominated agreements to buy power from two international private producers, with price escalation clauses tied to the New York Consumer Price Index, sent alarm bells ringing. There was worry that the country was heading towards unaffordable tariff rates for the consumer and potential bankruptcy for NEA as a result of inevitable future weakening of the Nepali Rupee. The government had strong-armed NEA into signing these agreements, and realised that concessionary financing terms that Nepal was used to receiving for public sector projects such as Baby Arun and Kali Gandaki A, that included below-market interest rates and 40 years repayment period with a 10 year grace period before starting repayment, were not the norm for private sector investors. Nepal’s status as a less than attractive destination for foreign investment meant that the country had few options but to accept expensive dollar PPAs from international developers with the high commercial interest rates and short repayment periods imposed by their banks because of high investment risks. In the end, the government ended up having to additionally provide a sovereign guarantee in order to close the deal at the insistence of the lenders – committing it to repayment in case NEA defaulted on paying the IPPs. It is reasonable to assume that the extraordinarily high political cost of agreeing to the PPA terms would have meant that no government would have willingly agreed to them in 1995 had it not suffered the trauma of the loss of concessionary-financed public sector projects as large as the Baby Arun. It has taken NEA 25 years to consider offering dollar-denominated PPAs again: to cover the foreign exchange portion of the investment in the 216MW Upper Trisuli-1 and 120MW Rasuwa-Bhotekosi Hydropower projects. It seemed unlikely at the time, but it turned out that the dire situation Nepal found itself in 1995 planted the seed to mobilise investment for affordable power from within the country. Double Whammy After the dual shock of first losing investment in Baby Arun and having to sign expensive power purchase agreements with international IPPs, the first proposal for an alternative strategy to mitigate the risk of foreign currency investment into hydropower projects came from a group of engineers within the Arun III team at NEA. Led by <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4900">Deputy Director Damber Bahadur Nepali,</a> engineers convinced the leadership that NEA needed to invest in a subsidiary company to build a series of locally-designed and domestically-financed projects that would have lower cost with rupee-denominated PPAs. They registered the Chilime Hydropower Company Limited (CHCL) in October 1995 with 51% shares from NEA, 25% from its employees, and 24% available for the general public, 10% of which was prioritised for local residents at the project site. The 22.1MW project is in Rasuwa on a tributary of the Trisuli, and mobilised debt financing from the Employee Provident Fund, which manages retirement savings for employees of the government, public enterprises, and private sector institutions. CHCL’s experience showed that NEA employees themselves believed that individual hydropower projects with operational independence from NEA could be developed profitably in Nepal by its own engineers -- and they were willing to put their own money on the line. Chilime also demonstrated that there was money in the country, particularly with retirement funds, looking for opportunities for long-term investments. Following completion of Chilime in 2003, CHCL led the formation of three other NEA subsidiary companies that completed construction in 2023 and 2024, producing 168.3MW using fully rupee-tied investment. NEA’s largest subsidiary, the Upper Tamakosi Hydropower Limited, completed construction of its 456MW plant in 2021.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829160812_ce9ab8b49c598970db3f5bf0a079061ef52f153b28d9f4ead2bb1b26bfd7c2f3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250829160812_ce9ab8b49c598970db3f5bf0a079061ef52f153b28d9f4ead2bb1b26bfd7c2f3" data-rendition-name="original" width="3000" height="1571" loading="lazy" alt="30 Years after Baby Arun"> <figcaption>DAMNED: The $700 million 456MW Upper Tamakosi built entirely with domestic funds before it was destroyed by the September floods last year. </figcaption> </figure>  There were some delays and cost overruns on this run-of-river project, the largest in the country with a final cost of over $700 million -- all of it sourced domestically. The five subsidiary companies launched by NEA have produced almost two times as much new power as NEA has over the past 30 years. Seven other NEA subsidiaries are currently constructing projects to add another 474MW to the national grid. But even more important than NEA subsidiaries have been local IPPs: Nepali companies which have over the past three decades enthusiastically entered the hydropower sector. From a regulatory perspective, the credit for mobilising domestic private investment to engage in power generation goes to Minister of Water Resources Shailaja Acharya, who in 1998 offered a flat feed-in-tariff of Rs4/kWh for hydropower projects under 10MW. This upfront offer removed a major barrier that early developers had faced of having to spend money to carry out a detailed feasibility study before they could even start tariff negotiations with NEA. She had laid the foundation stone of the Chilime project, and proved to be the champion of opening up the sector for domestic IPPs. The guarantee of a PPA with a fixed tariff, irrespective of project specifications, gave small power developers the confidence to apply for survey licenses and invest in feasibility studies so they could directly approach commercial banks and make a case for their project producing required revenue to repay loans. Domestic IPPs started adding power to the national grid in 2002. Their contribution was initially modest, and first projects were small and commercial lenders who took time to be confident about providing debt financing to a sector which had previously not been considered suitable for private sector investment. While the first 10 years were slow, with less than 10MW being added to the grid each year, this increased twenty fold over the following ten years, resulting in the equivalent of a Baby Arun being added by Nepali IPPs to the grid each year. A total of 84 IPPs added 232MW, 328 MW, 454MW, and 400MW of new generation to the grid in 2021-2024 (graph). There was explosive, exponential growth as domestic developers have surged ahead to account for 76% of the new megawatts added to the grid since 2020, compared to 24% by NEA and its subsidiary companies. The megawatts that IPPs are adding have followed the classic ‘hockey stick curve’ with the ‘breakout point’, signaling the rapid growth phase in 2020. Private producers are expected to accelerate new generation in the coming years with 300 solar and hydropower projects adding 11,000MW. Another 166 hydropower and 96 solar projects are currently in the survey stage, and are in line to add another 11,000MW to the construction pipeline. One major challenge is finding financing required for the projects. Domestic investment will no longer be sufficient to finance this ambitious pipeline of renewable energy projects. Project developers as well as NEA and the Electricity Regulatory Commission will have to leverage their substantial experience accumulated through the construction of over 200 projects to attract regional and international investment and hedge the risks of dollar-denominated PPAs. Following the cancellation of Baby Arun, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/people-power/decentralising-power-in-nepal">Nepal developed a highly distributed power sector</a>. The national electricity grid is currently supplied with power from a remarkably decentralised array of hundreds of hydropower and solar photovoltaic projects spread across 43 districts and all seven provinces.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829150848_0c3aa66b34bfb08380a624f397bf3ebb4126f4d6b41a26115848b496876f501b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250829150848_0c3aa66b34bfb08380a624f397bf3ebb4126f4d6b41a26115848b496876f501b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1228" height="867" loading="lazy" alt="30 years after Baby Arun"> </figure>  This presents a sharp contrast to the pathway of a few large public sector hydropower projects with a sprinkling of private sector projects that was envisioned as part of NEA’s investment planning when Baby Arun was being considered the front runner for investment. The strategy then was to allow public sector investment in a few large hydropower projects with thermal plants to fill the gap. Knowing what we know now about acceleration of climate change impacts and increased extreme weather events, following this path would have made Nepal’s power sector highly vulnerable. Decentralised generation greatly improves the resilience of Nepal’s power supply as damage to power plants in one part of the country need not affect other areas that have their own generation. Following the investment plan where over two thirds of the country’s power supply would have come from power plants on the Arun River, would have greatly imperiled Nepal’s energy security. All rivers in Nepal are susceptible to flooding from cloudbursts made more frequent by climate change. The Arun River which is fed by glaciers in Tibet is also at risk to glacial lake outburst floods. Bikash Pandey is Director of Clean Energy and Circular Economy at Winrock International. People Power is his regular column in Nepali Times on global energy issues relevant to Nepal. <h2>Decentralised and Diversified</h2> In the 30 years since the cancellation of ‘Baby Arun’: Hydropower projects constructed cover capacities ranging from less than 1MW to 456MW and developed by IPPs from across the country with strong local involvement in purchasing equity shares. Renewable energy sources contributed to the generation mix through solar IPPs that further contribute to climate resilience, and cover shortfalls during low rainfall. The government is committed to solar contributing 10% of the power on the grid. Increasing solar beyond this target and providing incentives to project developers to invest in utility-scale battery storage would further improve resilience. BIG ARUN: The 900MW Arun III project under construction since 2018 at Num in Sankhuwasabha (pictured, below) is a separate initiative by a different project developer using a different financing modality. The ‘Baby Arun’ version of Arun III was cancelled in 1995.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829150852_df534df5166eb5a9bb4cbe101627bdec7ac1df2a405a9d3988d1c86fcc8ecdeb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250829150852_df534df5166eb5a9bb4cbe101627bdec7ac1df2a405a9d3988d1c86fcc8ecdeb" data-rendition-name="original" width="1750" height="1312" loading="lazy" alt="30 Years after Baby Arun"> </figure>

People Power

30 years after Baby Arun

In democracies under strain, the most important truths often arrive too late, uttered hesitantly by those who should have spoken earlier. A striking case occurred on 5 July 2025, when Ty Cobb—former White House special counsel—accidentally revealed, in what he thought was a private Facebook comment, that Donald Trump was “worse than anyone in our history.” The post went viral, becoming an insider’s indictment few external critics could match. Cobb wrote that Trump “has real contempt for the country, appoints wholly unqualified people to key positions,” and even “killed worldwide healthcare efforts monitoring pandemic producing diseases including Ebola.”&nbsp; He added that Trump had “just kicked 12 million people off Medicaid, eliminated child food support” and witnessed a personal net worth growth of over USD 3 billion, describing it as “purely personal, corrupt and [with] zero policy-based support.” These were not partisan talking points but hard facts previously reported and now authoritatively confirmed. Yet, these truths surfaced only by accident, underscored by Cobb’s insistence that his words were “not intended for wide circulation.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025082715088_8992956bf90a632ae105a501c931cfff9d2224915248555ee7c5f053daf43517.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025082715088_8992956bf90a632ae105a501c931cfff9d2224915248555ee7c5f053daf43517" data-rendition-name="original" width="448" height="624" loading="lazy" alt="Reluctant truth-tellers and institutional fragility"> </figure>  That phrase has become emblematic of a deeper malaise: the unwillingness of insiders to speak candidly until their words escape by chance. That reluctance reflects a broader pattern observed in recent United States politics: internal criticism is rare, delayed, or voiced only after political risks have diminished. The effect is a dangerous silence that leaves citizens uninformed and institutions weakened. This dynamic is not unique to the United States. In Brazil, military officials who privately questioned Jair Bolsonaro’s authoritarian drift remained publicly loyal until after his defeat. In Hungary, European Union officials observing Viktor Orbán’s erosion of judicial independence offered only anonymous briefings, avoiding open confrontation that might have spurred international pressure.&nbsp; In both cases, the absence of early internal dissent permitted leaders to consolidate power and normalise abuses. When insiders delay speaking out, authoritarians gain vital time to dismantle checks and neutralise opposition. By the time the truth emerges, the institutional landscape has shifted. In fragile democracies and post-conflict settings, this pattern means early warnings that might prevent damage often go unheard. Such disclosures share a familiar anatomy: reactive, surfaced only after leaks or visible collapse, lacking in formal documentation, and offered by individuals whose credibility matters—but only too late.&nbsp; Silence often stems from various motivations: a belief that one can moderate from within, fear of being labelled partisan, or hope that self-correction via institutions is possible without personal sacrifice. However, these strategies frequently fail. The ‘adult in the room’ stance can instead enable wrongdoing. Autocrats learn to interpret silence as consent, and the public, unseeing of internal resistance, struggles to mobilise. By contrast, international experience shows that early truth-telling—however uncomfortable—is more effective. In Myanmar, civil servants—rather than staying silent—mounted one of the most powerful civil disobedience movements in the region, walking off the job in protest the day after the 2021 coup. Their defiance emboldened popular resistance and showed how decisive, collective action can shift political momentum, even if it could not reverse the coup.&nbsp; In South Korea, prosecutors exposed political meddling that catalysed civil society and led to the president’s impeachment. In Guatemala, judges and prosecutors brought down entrenched corruption networks from within government, enabling international action. Strengthening democratic resilience therefore requires reconfiguring incentives. Whistle-blower protections must be strengthened so that independent institutions can act swiftly on credible disclosures. Civil society and media networks should be prepared to amplify insider warnings before they are suppressed. We must build institutional cultures that treat early truth-telling as civic duty, not betrayal. International organisations can help by developing rapid-response mechanisms to protect and amplify important disclosures. Secure channels should preserve source anonymity while enabling coordinated global responses. Institutions must be ready to intervene when systems falter. Civil society, meanwhile, must reduce the personal cost of speaking out—through legal support funds, secure communication tools, and rapid media response strategies. The goal must be to make courage less costly, and delay less tempting. Ty Cobb’s unintended post was more than an accidental slip: it was a mirror held to institutional fragility and the perils of delayed honesty. As he put it, “I could of course be tilting at windmills but don’t really have much choice if I want to sleep at night given the stakes as I see them.” When insiders wait for the perfect moment to speak, that moment rarely arrives—and the public pays the price. Democratic societies cannot rely on accidental disclosures to expose institutional failures. Instead, the international community must build systems that reward courage over caution and recognise that institutional silence in the face of authoritarian behaviour is too often indistinguishable from complicity. Jordan Ryan is a member of the Toda International Research Advisory Council (TIRAC) at the Toda Peace Institute, a Senior Consultant at the Folke Bernadotte Academy and former UN Assistant Secretary-General with extensive experience in international peacebuilding, human rights, and development policy.&nbsp; This article was issued by the Toda Peace Institute and is being republished from <a href="https://toda.org/global-outlook/2025/reluctant-truth-tellers-and-institutional-fragility.html">the original</a> with their permission.

Reluctant truth-tellers and institutional fragility

Every dawn in the Himalaya, before anyone else wakes up, women set out with empty vessels to collect <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepals-silent-emergency-springs-going-dry">water from the springs</a>. They know these springs as intimately as their own breath.
They can tell you when the flow began to slow, how the taste subtly changed, often after a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-road-out-of-nepal">new road was built </a>nearby or some development took place upstream. They feel these changes long before anyone comes to measure them. And yet, women are almost always left out of the conversations when “experts” gather to talk about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/people-and-mountains-are-thirsty-in-eastern-nepal">saving the springs</a>.
Having spent years studying the science behind Himalayan springs, especially i<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-climate-crisis-is-a-water-crisis-in-the-himalaya">n rural hills and mountain regions</a>, I am certain it is the women who know the springs best.
Springs are not just hydrogeological features, they are vital social spaces woven deeply into the daily lives and identities of the communities that depend on them.
Women often walk long distances to collect water, wash clothes, and bathe at the springs, but the journey is even more arduous for the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/dalits-disasters-and-discrimination">Indigenous and Dalit </a>women who are denied equal <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/access-to-water-changes-the-face-of-rural-nepal">access to water</a>. Yet, often without recognition, these women become the custodians of the springs – intuitively sensing, and monitoring changes in water quantity and quality.
But recognition rarely translates into real participation. In many water user committees, women are appointed to leadership roles, but their actual influence is quite minimal. They are often not given space to speak during meetings, <a href="about:blank">excluded from key planning discussions</a>, or merely asked to sign off on decisions already made. This is not empowerment but tokenism, and happens also at the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/women-first-in-2027-wfnchctq">institutional and policy levels</a>.
In many community meetings I attended, few women spoke even though they were the primary users of water. This gap between scientific planning and lived community realities made it clear that without inclusive processes, even the best restoration plans fall short. This exclusion is not only unjust, it is one of the primary reasons why multi-million-dollar spring revival projects often fail. Solutions designed without the sight of those who use and monitor the springs daily are bound to miss the mark.
Understanding recharge zones and aquifer dynamics is essential for springshed management. But so is the critical insight into who accesses the spring, when, how often, and for what purpose. Technical professionals often focus on the ‘where’ and the ‘how’ of water, but we must also ask for whom? Who uses this water? Who monitors it? And crucially, who is excluded from the conversation?
Read also:<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-heat-beneath-our-feet"> The heat beneath our feet</a>, Sahina Shrestha&nbsp;
Moving beyond tokenism requires embedding Gender Equality and Social Inclusion (GESI) into the core of springshed management, not as a box-ticking exercise, but as a foundational approach.
It means the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/female-migrant-workers-hold-up-half-the-sky">active engagement of women</a>, Indigenous communities, and Dalits from the very beginning – mapping their access and dependence on springs, prioritising springs based on their needs, and creating safe spaces for dialogue and discussion, training them as Community Resource Persons (CRPs) and para-hydrogeologists, encouraging women to take meaningful leadership roles in local spring water user committees, and ensuring that interventions are designed to promote equitable sharing of benefits. We must monitor how spring depletion and revival affect women, children, and marginalised groups.
When these groups are involved in mapping, monitoring, and decision-making, the outcomes are more equitable. There is better local ownership, the data is more consistent, and solutions are more grounded in the lived realities of the people dependent on springs.
TOKENISM TO EMPOWERMENT
Using simple digital tools, women, youth, and marginalised groups trained as CRPs have mapped over 6,600 springs across two districts: seven municipalities of Kavre and two more in Dhankuta, tasks that were once only the domain of technical experts.
This change was made possible by engaging female trainers, scheduling sessions at times that suited participants, and fostering <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/inclusiveness-not-just-theory-in-this-school">inclusive learning spaces</a>. Their work proved that locally led science is not just inclusive, it is highly efficient. This would not have been possible if GESI was an afterthought, it was a guiding principle shaping every step of the process, from planning to implementation.
“In the beginning, I was unsure how to proceed with the training, but as I got involved, I learned that using a mobile app makes it much easier to understand and document everything. We can survey all the spring sources directly by downloading the app,” says Ganga Badal Tiwari from Panchkhal Municipality, one of the female participants in the spring source mapping training session held in April 2024.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/kathmandu-s-liquid-landscape">Kathmandu’s liquid landscape</a>, Sudiksha Tuladhar
Ganga and other women in the community now actively participate in technical tasks traditionally dominated by men, building their skills and confidence in water resource management and strengthening their role as key contributors to community-led springshed conservation. What might have taken technical team months to map was achieved in record time, driven by local knowledge and ownership.
In line with the theme for this year’s World Water Week – Water for Climate Action – we must recognise that <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/mountain-women-on-the-climate-frontlines">climate action</a> begins when we move from tokenism to meaningful participation and leadership.
As a woman in geosciences, I understand the transformative power of inclusion. We need more than open doors – we need to redesign the space for women, Indigenous Peoples, and other marginalised groups in the technical and policy spaces.
Sustainable and effective <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/water-for-life">springshed management </a>enhances water availability and directly supports community resilience against climate impacts. But it demands equity and inclusion at its core, making gender equality and social inclusion essential for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-needs-to-plan-for-plenty-and-scarcity-of-water">managing water resources </a>that serve everyone.
Goma Khadka is a geologist whose work focuses on fostering community engagement and participatory approaches to promote GESI-responsive springshed management in the Himalaya. She currently works at ICIMOD on a project supported by the United Kingdom International Development.

Saving our springs

Peacebuilding, conflict prevention, and crime prevention are no longer niche security concerns—they are global imperatives for sustainable climate action. From the migration crisis in Venezuela to the deforestation-driven conflicts in the Amazon, to organised crime in Central America, the ripple effects of instability and environmental degradation are felt far beyond national borders.&nbsp;
In 2025, nearly 80% of countries experiencing risks to peace remain off-track to meet the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs). Addressing these challenges isn’t just about safeguarding peace, stability and development. It is also about ensuring sustainable climate action.
The climate crisis, meanwhile, is no longer a distant threat—it has arrived, and communities facing risks to peace are bearing the brunt. From catastrophic droughts in northeastern Brazil to devastating hurricanes in the Caribbean, states grappling with weak institutions, social tensions, and organised crime are disproportionately vulnerable to climate shocks. Yet, despite their heightened exposure, these regions receive only a fraction of global climate financing.
Aligning climate action with peacebuilding and conflict prevention is not just a moral imperative, it is a smarter, more strategic approach. These regions are where climate risks and human vulnerabilities collide, threatening not just local stability but regional and global security. Without targeted interventions, we risk losing the opportunity to the fight against both climate change and instability.
Climate Change and Peace: A Dangerous Feedback Loop
Climate change and peace are deeply intertwined. Climate shocks affect the roots of peace—for example, straining efforts to advance governance, social equality, and tackle crime. In Colombia, for example, shifting rainfall patterns have disrupted agriculture, fuelling tensions over land use and exacerbating long-standing conflicts. Meanwhile, in Central America’s Dry Corridor, prolonged droughts have displaced farming communities, amplifying poverty and creating fertile ground for organised crime and migration.
The OECD’s multidimensional framework on instability highlights how economic, environmental, political, security, and societal risks intersect in these contexts. Climate impacts compound these risks, creating a dangerous feedback loop. Climate shocks can weaken peace and deepen instability, leaving affected communities least equipped to adapt to or mitigate these shocks.&nbsp;
This dynamic not only undermines local peacebuilding efforts but also fuels transnational challenges such as migration, trafficking, and cross-border violence.&nbsp;
Smarter Approach to Climate Financing
Despite their vulnerability, communities facing instability remain underfunded in global climate action. In 2024, less than 10% of international climate finance reached these contexts. Instead, the majority of funding flows to middle-income countries with stronger institutions and lower risks.
This imbalance is shortsighted. Communities where climate action is most urgently needed—and where it can have the greatest impact are often those facing risks to their human security and stability.&nbsp;
For example, investments in climate-resilient agriculture in Guatemala have reduced food insecurity and strengthened community resilience, helping to break cycles of conflict and displacement. Similarly, renewable energy projects in rural Brazil not only reduce emissions but also create jobs, foster stability, and reduce reliance on illicit economies.
Smarter climate financing doesn’t just mean more money—it means better-targeted investments. Funding must be long-term, adaptive, and aligned with local priorities. It must thus address the structural drivers of instability, from weak governance to social exclusion. For example, promoting inclusive decision-making in water management or land-use planning can reduce resource-based conflicts and strengthen trust between communities and governments.
Bridging Climate and Peacebuilding
As the world gears up for COP30 in Brazil this December, there is a unique opportunity to bring peacebuilding and conflict prevention to the forefront of global climate discussions. Including peacebuilding and peace in the thematic days at COP30 would be important, not only as a space to highlight the intersection of climate action, equitable development, and peace, but also to ensure that climate action does no harm to inadvertently worsen conflict dynamics in contexts affected by conflict.&nbsp;
This focus would not only raise awareness but also drive actionable commitments to address the challenges faced by unstable regions. By framing peace as a central theme, COP30 could catalyse international support for targeted interventions in unstable contexts, ensuring they receive the attention and resources they urgently need.
Four Principles for Climate Action in Regions Affected by Instability
<ol>
 <li>Pivot to Prevention: Early action saves lives and money. For example, investments in flood early warning systems in Brazil have reduced the need for costly humanitarian interventions during extreme weather events.</li>
 <li>Operationalise the Nexus: Climate action must cross all sectors of government, e.g. development, peacebuilding, and environmental crime prevention efforts. This calls for climate security risk analyses to become standard operating practices for all initiatives. For example, integration of climate into the role of law enforcement agencies in promoting climate resilience and responding to environmental threats.</li>
 <li>Flexible, Localised, Inclusive Responses: In the Andes, for instance, partnerships with indigenous communities have strengthened the role of law enforcement agencies in the fight against environmental crime and climate-related insecurity while fostering trust and collaboration.</li>
 <li>Regional Cooperation: Instability and climate risks transcend borders. Regional cooperation, innovation and capacity building in the face of climate security challenges for example through initiatives like the Amazon Cooperation Treaty Organization show how collective action can address shared challenges.</li>
</ol>
Call to Action
Peacebuilding is the missing piece in global climate action. Without targeted – and conflict sensitive- interventions in unstable regions, the world risks failing its climate goals—and leaving millions behind. Yet the solutions are within reach.
The international community must act with urgency and foresight. By aligning climate financing with peacebuilding strategies, integrating foreign policy into climate action, and adopting smarter, multidimensional approaches, we can turn instability from a barrier into an opportunity for progress.
Integrating peacebuilding into climate action is not just a moral imperative but a strategic necessity. As the host of COP30, Brazil has a unique opportunity to demonstrate leadership by championing policies that link climate resilience with conflict and crime prevention and peacebuilding. This means prioritising investments in vulnerable regions, fostering regional cooperation, and ensuring that climate financing reaches those most at risk.&nbsp;
The cost of inaction is calculable, and it is far greater than the price of bold, coordinated action today. It is time to stop treating peace as a side issue and start addressing it as the cornerstone of smarter, more effective climate solutions. It is time to stop fighting fires and build a sustainable climate for peace.
Janani Vivekananda is the Senior Research Fellow on Climate, Peace and Security at the Toda Peace Institute. She is also the Head of Programme for Climate Diplomacy and Security at adelphi, an independent think tank on climate, environment, and development.
This article was issued by the Toda Peace Institute and is being republished from <a href="https://toda.org/global-outlook/2025/peacebuilding-the-missing-peace-in-cop30-climate-ambition.html">the original</a> with their permission.

Missing peace in COP30 climate ambition

With Xi Jinping as host, Narendra Modi and K P Oli are both attending the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation (SCO) meeting on 31 August. It would be appropriate if the diplomatic ‘sherpas’ were able to organise a joint meeting to overcome some sticking points that have emerged in the trilateral interface. These issues are relatively new, related to China’s <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/what-china-wants">economic and geo-strategic rise</a>, which has reversed its earlier disinterest on matters south of the Himalaya (other than concerns over Tibet activism). While Beijing’s leaders used to be standoffish on Nepal, even advising Nepali leaders to remain on good terms with New Delhi, they are now bullish while lacking full appreciation of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-and-the-us-india-tariff-tiff">Nepal’s positions and interests</a>. Matters are complicated for Nepal by the fact that after decades of relative Indo-Chinese calm following the debacle (for India) of the 1962 war, the 2023 Galwan clashes led to a bilateral nosedive. Both neighbours entered a phase of hi-decibel rancour, with the Indian officialdom and media expecting Kathmandu to choose sides. New Delhi tends to hype any engagement by Kathmandu with Beijing as proof of a ‘China tilt’, or opportunistic use of the ‘<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/china-syndrome">China card</a>’. There is irony in this, of course, because China is India’s foremost trading partner, and a source for much that makes <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/india-has-arrived">India’s economy</a> hum, from pharmaceutical raw material to EV batteries, solar panels, integrated circuits, industrial machinery, etc.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250821100828_327349e434da4a44b12be66625d7a7b1b030c08e38b9a3a96734218e70929302.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250821100828_327349e434da4a44b12be66625d7a7b1b030c08e38b9a3a96734218e70929302" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="When Xi meets Modi and Oli"> <figcaption>TERRITORIAL IMPERATIVE: Demonstrations in Kathmandu against India's opening of a new link road to Mansarovar of Tibet via Nepal's Lipulek in 2020. Photo: BIKRAM RAI/ NT ARCHIVE </figcaption> </figure>  While in an inextricable economic embrace with Beijing, New Delhi diplomats, media commentators and ‘think-tankers’ would want Kathmandu (and Dhaka, Colombo) to keep Beijing at arm’s length. Nor would they stop to consider that it was the Indian economic<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/aftershocks-of-the-blockade"> blockade </a>of 2015 that accelerated Kathmandu’s signing a slew of agreements with Beijing two years later on cross-border roads, transmission lines, bilateral trade, third-country transit, as well as the Belt and Road Initiative Framework. Chinese goods and services New Delhi analysts must abandon suspicions of foul play whenever a South Asian neighbour seeks out <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/International/China,442">Chinese goods and services</a>, scientific advances, education, and bilateral and third-country trade. They also need to consider <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/looking-beyond-two-boulders">the advantages</a> of Nepal providing the most geographically practical surface connectivity between the Chinese mainland and the Indus-Ganga-Brahmaputra basin, using the railhead that has already arrived at Shigatse west of Lhasa. Of the 14 countries that China borders, and India’s seven, Nepal is unique for its open border to the south. New Delhi security experts constantly warn of third-country infiltration into India using the free passage, but if that is the case Beijing too will now have reason to feel vulnerable, given the possibility of quick south-to-north passage across Nepal on <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/on-the-fast-lane-to-expressways">new highways</a>. Nepal is also unique in that its citizens have historically been allowed to join the Indian military, even though recruitment is halted since 2022 due to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/lockdown-5-utlzqtvs">the Covid pandemic</a>, followed by India’s introduction of the Agnipath recruitment scheme. As is natural between any two neighbours, Beijing and Kathmandu have issues to sort out, such as: the mutual respect of Bon, Mahayana and Vajrayana communities across the Himalaya defiles, access to historically shared high pastures, unilateral closure of border points by Beijing that impacts<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/missing-out-on-nepal-s-tourism-potential"> tourism and trade</a>, and the occasional ill-considered statements regarding Nepal’s third-country relations that emerge from Beijing officialdom, such as on the US-funded Millennium Challenge Compact. It is a fact, however, that the Nepal-China relationship is clouded by diffidence of the Kathmandu polity in dealing with Beijing interlocutors. The Nepal side has been conditioned over the decades by the need for Kathmandu to prop up the China relationship as a counter to the overwhelming presence of India in the polity, which has meant more fawning northward than is healthy. Meanwhile, it would help for Chinese delegations not to insist on the Nepali side repeating ad nauseum its commitment to the one-China policy, or disallowing Nepali territory to be used against China. These are by now state policy, not requiring humiliating repetition. India-China-Nepal The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-love-triangle-with-china-and-india-impacts-investment">India-China-Nepal</a> interface has not been discussed enough as a foreign affairs sub-discipline, mainly because of the timidity of Kathmandu’s officialdom and intelligentsia. In these times of ascendant China and defensive India, Nepal must place its concerns on the three-way table.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250821100856_d4497e2620bba81211d27e427393974877e09006abc26e13055508996e5b29ea.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250821100856_d4497e2620bba81211d27e427393974877e09006abc26e13055508996e5b29ea" data-rendition-name="original" width="1108" height="1550" loading="lazy" alt="When Xi meets Modi and Oli"> </figure>  Limpiyadhura Triangle: The area in Nepal’s northwest encompassing 370 sq km between Limpiyadhura peak, Lipulek pass and Kalapani encampment is claimed by Kathmandu, the area having been incorporated in the 2015 Constitution. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/borderline-disorder">The Sugauli Treaty of 1816 </a>indicates Nepal’s western boundary as the Kali River, and Kathmandu claims the main river stem as starting from Limpiyadhura. Whereas, New Delhi claims that the smaller stream going straight north from Kalapani is the official Kali. Nepal is thus in a significant territorial dispute with India, a matter that was ignored by both New Delhi and Beijing when they reached an accord in May 2015 to regularise cross-border trade and pilgrim traffic via Lipulek. Prime Minister Sushil Koirala sent a protest note to both capitals. And yet, tone-deaf to Nepal’s position, foreign ministers Wang Yi and S Jaishankar on 19 August 2025 signed an agreement to resume border trade via Lipulek. (Addendum: The 19 August agreement referred to above is as per the statement published by India’s Ministry of External Affairs, with Point No. 9 referring specifically to “reopening of border trade through the three designated trading points, namely Lipulekh Pass, Shipkila Pass and Nathula Pass”. However the Chinese Foreign Ministry statement of the same date says in Point No. 8 that both sides agreed “to facilitate trade and investment flows between the two countries through concrete measures.” India’s MEA statement refers to Lipulek while the Chinese Foreign Ministry statement does not. But then there is another statement, out of talks between Foreign Minister Wang Yi and National Security Advisor Ajit Doval of the same date, which says (Point No. 9) that the two side agreed to re-open “three traditional border trading markets, namely Renqinggang-Changgu, Pulan-Gunji and Jiuba-Namgya.” Pulan-Gunji clearly refers to the Lipulek route.) Especially because he is scheduled to visit the SCO Summit in end-August and Bodh Gaya on 17 September, it is important for PM Oli to immediately send diplomatic notes to both capitals as did his predecessor PM Koirala. To recall, it was under Oli as Prime Minister that the Limpiyadhura Triangle was officially incorporated into Nepal’s Constitution in the Second Amendment of June 2020.&nbsp; Hydropower Exports: While there is a power trade agreement between Nepal and India, New Delhi has put regulations that restrict Kathmandu from exporting from hydropower plants that are funded, financed or constructed with Chinese involvement. This stricture even applies to the agreement to supply 40MW to Bangladesh via the Indian grid. New Delhi’s officialdom evidently believes that electrons have nationality, and anything with a whiff of Chinese involvement is to be rejected. This is an unfriendly position towards both Nepal and China, though one does not know whether Beijing is bothered enough as it seeks to woo India and its massive consumer market. Meanwhile, the restrictions on ‘China tainted’ energy exports have impacted Chinese FDI in Nepal’s hydropower sector. Airports and Airlines: The new international airports at Bhairawa and Pokhara have become a burden on the economy because of the in-country graft and malfeasance. Neither of the two airports has been able to ‘go international’ due to the government’s inability to plan ahead on air routes, passenger traffic and tourism. India has been least cooperative, however, disallowing instrumental landing system at Bhairawa on the pretext that it will interfere with flights at its nearby military airbase. This point is moot now because of satellite-aided navigation systems, but New Delhi officialdom continues to dissuade airlines from connecting Indian cities to both airports because of Chinese involvement in their construction. Sourcing international loans, grants and contractors is Kathmandu’s sovereign lookout, and it is improper for New Delhi to act so obstructionist. While Pokhara’s airport was built on a loan from the Export–Import Bank of China, Bhairawa was financed by the Asian Development Bank, with only the civil works carried out by a Chinese company responding to a global tender. At the upcoming summit of the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation, whose goal is “regional security, economic cooperation and cultural exchange”, PM Oli must remind both his host President Xi and fellow guest PM Modi that the China-India relationship even as it blows hot and cold can never be at the cost of Nepal. &nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/fixing-the-broken-parts-in-nepal-china-ties">Fixing the broken parts in Nepal-China ties</a>, Kanak Mani Dixit

Comment

When Xi meets Modi and Oli

Nepal has shut down dozens of social media platforms in a move that is widely seen as an effort to tax the revenue they generate in the country, and to control content critical of government. The sites were blocked as of midnight on Thursday, 4 September and affects all Meta products including WhatsApp and Messenger, Threads, and others. Although YouTube, Google and X are also on the government’s list, they were still working as of Friday midday.&nbsp; The government says it took the action after repeated warnings to the platforms to open offices in Nepal, a Cabinet decision last month setting a deadline, as well as a 17 August Supreme Court ruling also requiring them to register and pay requisite taxes. However, the Bill cited in the ban, ‘The Operation, Use, and Regulation of Social Media in Nepal’ has not yet been passed by Parliament. Some social media platforms which were already paying taxes in Nepal even though they are not officially registered, have also been blocked. The move is the latest in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/big-beautiful-bills" target="_blank">a slew of draft legislations</a> designed to undermine Nepal’s open society. A Bill amending the Print and Publications Act would allow district bureaucrats to shut down media. Another draft Bill would allow political appointees to head a new Media Council with the power to revoke the licenses of journalists.&nbsp; A counter-intelligence Bill would let just about anyone in government to arbitrarily tap phones, read emails and trail citizens. On Wednesday the government announced new immigration requirements that would allow it to track the movement of all foreigners in the country. Yet another draft Bill has been set to Parliament to dissolve the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=10675" target="_blank">Social Welfare Council (SWC)</a> and move registration and monitoring of non-governmental organisations, nonprofits and charities to the Ministry of Social Welfare. Seen in this light, the blockage of social media platforms this week is seen as the latest government attempt to constrict freedom of press. Nepal is one of the few remaining open societies in Asia, and now appears to be drifting towards authoritarianism. The government’s sudden shutdown of social media has been greeted with howls of protest on platforms that still remain open, like Viber and TikTok, as well as in Nepal’s mainstream press. Even senior members of the ruling UML-NC coalition have sharply criticised the move, asking if the government is trying to “turn Nepal into North Korea”.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025090508098_a2ab330e403e8418a7006cd5e915607382628dd6984524332bf7b99c74743656.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025090508098_a2ab330e403e8418a7006cd5e915607382628dd6984524332bf7b99c74743656" data-rendition-name="original" width="4280" height="5187" loading="lazy" alt="social media ban in Nepal"> </figure>  The Regional Director of the New York-based Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ) Beh Lih Yi said in a statement: ‘Nepal’s sweeping ban on social media sets a dangerous precedent for press freedom. Blocking online news platforms vital to journalists will undermine reporting and the public’s right to information. The government must immediately rescind this order and restore access to social media platforms, which are essential tools for exercising press freedom.’ Besides undermining press freedom, blocking social media platforms will also hurt commerce and the economy since so many small and medium business trade through Instagram, Facebook and other platforms. Nepal’s vibrant social media has also been a boost or citizens to assert identity, build solidarity against injustice and play an adversarial role when the mainstream media does not do it. Social media platforms have also become the tenuous link for Nepali families scattered across the world to keep in touch with each other — its importance growing with the increasing size of the diaspora. The government wants social media platforms to register, pay taxes and remove posts on their sites that ‘undermine the national interest and Nepal’s territorial integrity, disturb social and religious harmony’.&nbsp; In response, rights activists have said while there is need for the government to regulate extreme content and hate speech, officials appear to be more intent on clamping down on free speech and trying to force platforms to share the revenue. On Friday, the government had allowed WhatsApp back online, but there were reports that it had instructed the Nepal Telecommunication Authority (NTA) to instruct mobile and internet service providers to block by Friday night all platforms, including Facebook, Instagram, Messenger, WhatsApp, X (Twitter), YouTube, LinkedIn, Reddit, Threads, Snapchat, Pinterest, Signal, Clubhouse, Rumble.&nbsp; Platforms that have registered and are allowed include TikTok, Viber, Nimbuzz, Popo Live, WeTalk, Global Diary and the Nepali portal Hamro Patro. TikTok was banned last year for ‘disturbing social harmony’ and it was lifted after the platform registered its office in Nepal. But even while it was banned, many users simply switched to VPN. Telegram was also banned for ‘financial crimes’ and it has since also been allowed back. NTA officials confirmed that some Asia-Pacific regional offices of platforms, including Meta had been in touch overnight inquiring about the registration process.&nbsp; Nepal is not alone in regulating social media. China bans most Western platforms, Russia and Turkey regulate their and require platforms to locate their data servers in the country. Gulf countries allow social media but keep a tight control on dissent.&nbsp; Experts have said even the government will not dare close down YouTube since so many Nepali individuals and companies make money with posts on that platform, and closing it would also impact on Google and Gmail. Facebook had also just launched a monetisation scheme for videos and reels, and Nepalis uploading content would lose revenue.&nbsp; Blocking the platforms has already hit content creators, influencers and cut small businesses from reaching customers. A survey of social media use in Nepal by Sharecast Initiative showed that 94% of those with smart phones used YouTube, followed by Facebook (92%) while TikTok was in the 50-60% range. X and Instagram were in the single digits. A YouTube ban will also hurt the mainstream media since up to 20% of the revenue of Nepal’s main tv channels came through YouTube. Some 11.1 million Nepalis watch YouTube content every day, the survey showed. ‘For global giants like Meta or Google, Nepal is a small market, and they may not even flinch — but for millions of Nepalis, these platforms are central to daily life, livelihoods, and connections across the world,’ wrote AI consultant Naresh Newar in a LinkedIn post. Some experts said the government’s sweeping ban on social media networks was untenable and the government would be forced to rollback sooner or later. Said editor Shiva Gaunle: “The platforms had given citizens a voice and broken the monopoly of the government, legislators, the courts and journalists over public opinion. This is an effort to reassert that monopoly, but Nepal can never be turned into a North Korea.”

Protest grows against Nepal’s social media ban

This is the 72nd episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. My father ran a store and that is where I spent all my time till Grade 6. Doing my homework. Serving customers. I then moved to my maternal grandparents’ house because I used to get along with my cousin who was a year older than me. We did everything together, and were best friends. We took turns studying: I was a night owl, and he was an early riser. Before I went to bed after studying all night, I woke him up. My mother was 44 when I was born, the same year my eldest brother got married. My sister-in-law becoming a part of our family was how my mother referenced my age. I liked making money, and was always a hustler. In Grade 7, I learnt to handle a tractor and helped my brother-in-law to plough, earning Rs10 a day. As I got better, he paid me more. By Grade 9, I was already making Rs500 per day, but had to slow down to prepare for my exams. From an early age I knew I did not want a 9-5 job. There just wasn’t enough money in it. I wanted to get into business, and compared my brother who worked in the post office and what businessmen made. It did not help that my brother was honest, and never took bribes. A friend and I made money selling cheap Chinese phones at a premium to our friends. We blasted music on the phones and pretended that we were giving them a discount. After SLC, I started teaching math and other subjects. I was soon a shareholder in the same school and in the evening I was involved in our family’s floriculture business, growing amaranth and marigold for garlands.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250831020844_1b54b999d67122a50c4c7e6204cc737bcc99bf2a68db6499a4566a7f61a880b4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250831020844_1b54b999d67122a50c4c7e6204cc737bcc99bf2a68db6499a4566a7f61a880b4" data-rendition-name="original" width="955" height="1314" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 72"> </figure>  It was then that a friend suggested we learn the Korean language. We could be earning significantly higher in Korea for similar efforts. I had no plans to go abroad but he convinced me. I did not know anything about Korea, and was scolded at the language institute when I asked someone to point Korea on the map.&nbsp; It was only there that I learnt you had to pass an exam for the Korean Employment Permit System (EPS), and pay for language classes. After a week, I decided it was not for me and dropped out. But my friend convinced me to give it one more try. I did not prepare much for the exam, and it was no surprise that I failed. But it was just by one mark, and people would pity me for failing “just by one mark”. It was a brand of failure. It hurt my ego. I had to turn things around by taking the exams seriously, and locked myself up to study hard.&nbsp; Even when we had visitors, my wife told them I was not home. If I was not in my room learning Korean, I would be with a group of ten of us test-takers comparing notes and practicing late into the night. The exam was difficult, but this time I passed, the only one in my group who did.&nbsp; As someone who never liked the idea of doing a job, I still had my doubts about going to Korea. It did not help that one of my acquaintances had returned a month after he had left, and he discouraged me from migrating given that I was already making good money in Nepal.&nbsp; But my wife suggested that I give it a shot since I had worked so hard for it. And if it really turned out not to be my cup of tea, I could always return. What did I have to lose, I thought, at least I would get to visit Korea. My job there was in an electrical company that made circuit boards. I worked all day, earned good money. In the evenings, I kept myself busy with my real estate business back in Nepal. I had learnt the tricks of the trade from fellow real estate agents back home, but at the time did not have the capital to invest.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250831020848_941e961e2045058f255ad89884b51faa7d2365c68236e5cbe573d63d769ac6c5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250831020848_941e961e2045058f255ad89884b51faa7d2365c68236e5cbe573d63d769ac6c5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 72"> </figure>  In Korea, it helped that I had salary records that allowed me to get loans from financial institutions both in Korea and in Nepal. Ultimately, I started earning more from my real estate deals in Nepal than from my job in Korea. This was all thanks to my ability to take loans because of the EPS scheme. My wife has been managing the flower business while I was away. My finances grew stronger over the eight years I was in Korea. I paid off the loans that I had borrowed to buy land. But real estate did not satisfy me entirely. I wondered: what is my brand? What will I be known for? What is my contribution to society? Real estate is for wealth, but that is about it. I needed to sell one piece of land and use the revenue to start a venture. I took classes in business, and returned to Nepal six months ago and got back to my family’s ancestral roots in floriculture. In Nepal too, I am continuing the entrepreneurship training I had started in Korea with the Bridge International. Such exposure helps us reflect on our business such as our branding, vision, and proactive aspects like the importance of strong recordkeeping.&nbsp; I am now working to upgrade and expand my floriculture business. With a friend who is still in Korea I am building a cooling room to increase the shelf-life of flowers and other produce and set up a market in my village where others can sell their produce. Floriculture is our primary business, but it is seasonal and earns good money only during festivals like Tihar.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250831020848_a008ffeba13896e6918f68ff6e687c8fe11140d86a96f1ec11690547f2bcd415.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250831020848_a008ffeba13896e6918f68ff6e687c8fe11140d86a96f1ec11690547f2bcd415" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 72"> </figure>  So, I grow tomatoes to ensure year-round earnings. I also am engaged in other businesses like real estate and online shopping. I work round the clock in Nepal — a strong work ethic is something I picked up in Korea.&nbsp; My Korean bosses would work alongside us, that motivated us. I work just as hard in Nepal as I did in Korea. People here often ask me why I am pushing myself so hard. But making garlands comes easy to me, it is work my forebears were involved in. My childhood memories are about plucking flowers with my sister. I have a comparative advantage in this work. It comes naturally to me, it is easy and I enjoy it. And sometimes, if there are too many garlands to make, I can multitask while holding meetings. My fingers just fly. I am good at this job, but my wife is even better and faster.&nbsp; When there is too much load, we can also outsource the work. To be known as the flower guy would be great personal branding. The मखमली guy. Or the सयपत्री guy. I decided to come home for just this with a one-way ticket. “अब पासा: जाँदैन ल्हासा!” &nbsp;

The flower guy

<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x2fZXyjsE28" target="_blank">Yog Narendra Malla</a> became king at age 18, and ruled Patan from 1684-1705 — his reign marked by a cultural and architectural renaissance of the city state. He put up a statue of himself in the palace square with a little bronze bird sitting on the guardian serpent above his head. It is said he told his subjects that he would look after their welfare till the day the bird flew off. During<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lessons-not-learned-from-2015-o2etq6zu"> the 2015 earthquake</a>, the pedestal collapsed and the statue was damaged. The bird was lost, only to be located in a pile of debris and reinstated when the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/piece-by-piece-patan-darbar-square-reconstruction,3782" target="_blank">statue was consecrated</a> two years later. <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/x2fZXyjsE28?si=jYfIb4p6zCLXYQ1T" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe></div> History remembers Yog Narendra Malla as a wise king, but like most<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/preserving-king-birendra-s-family-home"> royalty of the day</a>, he had a weakness for women. He is supposed to have consorted with 30 queens and numerous concubines. At least 33 of them self-immolated themselves on the king's funeral pyre when he died, adhering to the prevailing <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/review/Jhola,947">practice of sati</a>. When Yog Narendra Malla’s favourite queen found out that he was carrying on with yet another woman, she got the local community of the Kwelachhi neighbourhood to stage a shadow sex play to quite literally expose his unfaithfulness. Actors enacted the explicit exploits of the king and his mistress, a bright butter lamp projecting the moving shadows of their lovemaking on a thin white drape to entertain those gathered in the square below. The queen made sure that the show was designed to face the home of the king’s paramour to shame them both. She also paid for a group to chant a bhajan with lyrics that ridiculed the king’s extramarital affair. The Jhyalcha Guthi community trust that the queen set up three-and-half century ago is still active to this day, and performs the annual shadow play in the same building in Kwelachhi the day before <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-legend-behind-the-myth-of-indra-jatra">Indra Jatra </a>every year. This year’s show is on Friday evening, 5 September. The opening lines of the chants that accompany the play are the same words approved by the queen all those years ago: “Raja Yog Narendra ya aparadh…” (King Yog Narendra’s crime…) The community leader of the Kwelachhi neighbourhood, 62-year-old Baburaja Awale, explains the importance of the event: “This Jhyalcha is our<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/saving-the-intangible,3303"> intangible heritage</a> and oral history. We do not have a written format, it has been passed down from generation to generation. Every word of the bhajan is the story of King Yog Narendra Malla.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250904070952_249e85b32cbd99bb8515151557e0ec1a65d44a34ef1aacabaaeb469622d12664.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250904070952_249e85b32cbd99bb8515151557e0ec1a65d44a34ef1aacabaaeb469622d12664" data-rendition-name="original" width="1750" height="1167" loading="lazy" alt="Sex and the city of Patan"> <figcaption>The statue of Yog Narendra Malla being reinstated after it toppled in the 2015 earthquake. Photo: GOPEN RAI/ NEPALI TIMES ARCHIVE</figcaption> </figure>  Jhyalcha Pyankha, as the ceremony is called, starts with a puja for the Bhimsen — the god of wealth and prosperity, a popular <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-homecoming-of-nepal-s-gods">deity in Patan</a> who has a temple dedicated just to him in the palace square. This is immediately followed by a bhajan of Bhairab performed with <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Buzz-house,670">traditional Newa musical instruments</a>. Community members serve snacks consisting of samay baji beaten rice, water buffalo chunks, soybean, green veggies, lentils, ginger, garlic and aila liquor. “In the first act of the shadow play, the man initiates the lovemaking, and in the third it is the woman,” says Laxmi Lal Awale, also a member of the trust that organises the show. The shadow action is all uncensored, but interspersed with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/between-the-sacred-and-everyday">scenes of everyday life</a>: the woman is spinning a thread, the king is going about his royal chores, and the two sit down to share sanacha fermented pickle that is popular this time of year. <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/qZ3twuG1wNQ?si=yRfkoC3A-X9cIl8r" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe></div> “Back then, there was no tv, films or YouTube, and yet we managed to stage the shadow play using our own resourcefulness,” says Baburaja Awale. “It is important to continue the tradition.” The challenge now is to ensure that the<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/the-reign-of-the-god-of-rain"> younger generation takes over</a>, learning the lyrics of the ancient bhajan. The dafa khala group that performs all over Patan during festivals and religious events is now training teenagers to play the musical instruments and act in the shadow play. The Jhyalcha was staged even after the 2015 earthquake when the falcha where the bhajan is performed collapsed and they made-do in a tin shed. The structure was later rebuilt with a grant from the group, Photo Circle. Lalitpur Metropolitan City sets aside a budget of Rs50,000 to organise the Jhyalcha Pyankha every year, but this is not enough and is supplemented by individual donations. The performers including musicians and actors are all volunteers, and take part in it because it is their community duty. The erotic shadow play was way ahead of its time, not just in its graphic content but the use of contemporary local technology as well as improvisation and pure imagination. Says Laxmi Lal: “Whatever its origin in the legend of King Yog Narendra Malla and his queen, Jhyalcha also served as a medium of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lets-talk-about-it">sex education</a>. In the past, women were discouraged from watching the shadow play, but today everyone is welcome, we all watch it together.” Jhyalcha Pyankha Kwelachhi, Chyasal, Patan 7PM onwards Friday, 5 September