It was inspiring for me here in Norway to read Radhesh Pant’s Guest Editorial in Nepali Times on 4 February titled ‘A Chance for Nepal’s Political Renewal’.
Now the time has come, we hope. Youth groups have decided to stand firm in the process of making Nepal a more democratic society. They are concerned, they have the competence and talent, and they are dedicated.&nbsp;
For many years, I have followed the ups and downs of Nepal's politics: the re-introduction of multi-party democracy in 1990 allowing civil society organisations, the Maoist insurgency ending in 1996, the palace shooting in 2001, king Gyanendra abdicating in 2006, Nepal becoming a republic in 2008, and the ratification of the new Constitution in 2015. Right up to the demonstrations and violence in September last year.
All these upheavals took place in Nepal within just over three decades. Defining democracy as a system in which every citizen can vote, we must remember that it took 100 years for many European countries to become democracies, in some countries even longer.&nbsp;
Norway is one example of the latter: after 400 years as a Danish colony, Norway was an autonomous country (except for foreign affairs) in a union with Sweden, meaning we had a common king with Sweden, but a Parliament with Norwegians.&nbsp;
This status changed in 1814, Parliament gathered at an estate north of the capital to declare independence from Sweden and pass a new Constitution – it could be called a silent coup d’etat.&nbsp;
Norwegian women obtained the right to vote only in 1913. It took us 400 years to become independent country, and nearly a century for its citizens to obtain the right to vote.
A democratic process therefore can last long, it is filled with frustration, anger, optimism, pessimism. In Nepal, I have noticed all these emotions, in the media as well as among people.&nbsp;
Since 1999, I have been fortunate to meet Nepalis, many of whom have become good friends, who have told me about personal experiences and their views on politics and on local conditions.&nbsp;
Nepal is a complex society, and many aspects are still difficult for me to understand. But I do indeed feel confident to agree with Radhesh Pant that political renewal in Nepal is possible.
GLOBAL AUTOCRATISATION&nbsp;
Elections alone do not guarantee a functional democracy, however, and Nepal is not the only country that must cope with political and social challenges – just look at historical and recent events throughout the world today.&nbsp;
Corruption has been a stubborn challenge in countries on every continent, reducing people’s trust in politicians and the political system. Power sharing cannot be taken for granted any more, political and administrative decisions are made without concern for the rule of law, and autocratic leaders contribute to public institutions being broken down from within.&nbsp;
In the US and Europe, migration has become a polarising issue and has stoked conflict among citizens which can be exploited for political gain by populists to navigate among power positions.
With all this happening, it is encouraging to observe that citizens, especially the young generation, are mobilising against such trends and to save democracy.&nbsp;
The GenZ movement in Nepal followed youth uprisings in Bangladesh, Indonesia, and Nepal itself was followed by similar ones in Thailand, Morocco, as well as in other parts of the world – just a few weeks ago, also in Albania.
The election on 5 March, and the negotiations that will inevitably following to form a government with clear policies for the future will be an indication that our optimism is well founded, and that every Nepali – young and old, poor and rich, male and female living in the centre and periphery -- will obtain better possibilities to participate in political decision-making.
Ultimately, this will make it possible for Nepalis to improve their social condition, as well as contributing to their country’s democratic development. &nbsp;
Marit Bakke is a retired Professor of Sociology. Since 1984, she has been in Nepal regularly, to collaborate academically with Nepalis, including as a member of the International Board of Patan Academy of Health Sciences &nbsp;(PAHS).

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Letter from Norway

The Bangladesh National Party (BNP) won a landslide victory in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/bangladesh-s-post-uprising-election">12 February elections</a>, securing a two-thirds majority. The Muhammed Yunus-led caretaker government held the polls following a student-led uprising that ousted then Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina. Some 1,400 people were killed. The Hasina-led Awami League was banned from contesting the elections.
Tarique Rahman's 17-year self-imposed exile in London has now ended with his swearing-in as the new prime minister of Bangladesh, even as the system of a dynastic premier role continues. A referendum to amend the Constitution was also held with the election.
As Nepal heads towards its own election on 5 March, there are lessons from Bangladesh, including electoral reforms to make vote counting more efficient and faster. Journalist Namrata Sharma spoke with Khushi Kabir, a human rights activist from Bangladesh.
Right after the Liberation of Bangladesh in 1972, Kabir joined BRAC and in 1980 she joined Nijera Kori, a national level NGO working with the landless.&nbsp;
Nepali Times: How do you feel now that the election is over and BNP has been sworn in to Parliament?
Khushi Kabir: I am heaving a sigh of relief, as retaining democracy in the country is most important. If there is no democracy, you cannot function. A system of accountability to the people must be in place. Now that the government has been elected, it will be responsible towards the people. When there is no democracy and no elected government, there is no accountability.
The key youth leaders who ousted the Hasina-led government seem to have been sidelined. Could this lead to unrest?
Out of the total 297 contested seats, BNP got 212, which is a secure two-thirds majority. The Islamist-led Jamaat-e-Islami alliance won 77 seats; this includes the six student leaders who were part of the protest in 2024. We are observing what’s happening. When these six students joined, many did not support them, as many students do not support the Jamaat-e-Islami party, especially women students. There are different factions of students, and not all joined or supported the Jamaat.
The Jamaat-e-Islami coalition is in the opposition. What could this mean for the country?
The Awami League was forming the government for a long time without opposition, which was not good for Bangladesh. The public will keep asking questions from outside, but for democracy to prosper in a healthy manner, there needs to be an opposition in Parliament to ask questions too.
Although not allowed to contest, Awami League constituencies also seem to have voted for BNP. What does this indicate?
The choice was just between the two: the BNP and the Jamaat. The caretaker government appeared to be supporting the Islamic-minded groups. Therefore, there are speculations that many like-minded Awami League supporters voted for BNP candidates to try to resist Jamaat. The Awami League has its past controversies within the party too, and some who may not have supported them may be assumed to have cast their votes for BNP.
As a human rights activist, what made you happy and sad regarding the election results?
Definitely, the happy moment is that the Islamic party did not win. It was actually a negative vote against religion in politics. People feel that religion-based political parties may not serve the purpose of freedom in a democratic setup. But not many women were given seats to contest in the election. About 85 women contested, but seven have won—six from BNP and one independent candidate who was not given a ticket to contest by BNP, so she ran as an independent candidate and won with a majority.
Another sad thing is that they wanted a referendum without fully explaining to the people what it really meant. Many people did not understand what they were voting yes for. The interim government formed a Constitution Reform Commission to look into making changes in the current Constitution. They sat with the political parties they chose. There was a note of dissent on some of the items by some, but the interim government went ahead with a questionnaire with only “Yes” and “No” to as many as 84 recommendations. I now want the people of this country to start asking questions on transparency and accountability, not just wait for the opposition to do so.
How do you relate the political developments in Nepal to the situation in Bangladesh?
The only thing common between Nepal and Bangladesh is the fact that the youth forced the governments to resign. Your caretaker government has been pragmatic from day one. They set a date to conduct elections within six months from the day they came to power; your caretaker government has not tried to push an agenda. Also, the most important thing is that the caretaker government has not given preference to any political party, nor has it banned any. In the speech of your Prime Minister addressing the National Assembly, she was very clear in her stance.
One thing Nepal can learn from us is to trust and believe in the people; they know what they want. To me, the election results in Bangladesh is a rejection of the structural changes Yunus and his interim government were attempting to make. BNP must now know that they don’t have blanket power, although they got a two-thirds majority. People did not want Jamaat, so they voted for BNP, as there was no other major political party in this election and this must be respected. Nepal should observe this fact.
What do you think will be the relationship between India and Bangladesh now?
Now that we have a political power, they will wait and see. I hope BNP will be pragmatic. After BNP’s victory, Tarique Rahman said that he will try to revive SAARC. He stressed on the fact that the interests of the people and the country will be kept foremost in BNP policies. It is a fact that Bangladesh does not want to be controlled by any external force. We hope the relationship between India and other countries will be based on that fact. If Bangladesh and Nepal get closer with Sri Lanka, these three countries on the periphery of India could jointly work together to bring peace in the region. As Tarique Rahman has said he wants to revive SAARC, this is the right time to do so. The India-Pakistan rivalry can be sidelined, and a pathway to move forward with a realistic strategy in the South Asian context could be developed.

No democracy, no accountability

For daring to demand democracy, the Rana regime hanged activist Shukra Raj Shastri at midnight on 24 January 1941 by the side of the road at Teku. Across town in Siphal, Dharma Bhakta Mathema was also hanged. Four days later, Dasrath Chand and Gangalal Shrestha were executed by firing squad. These four young revolutionaries were members of the underground Nepal Praja Parishad that led the anti-Rana revolution with plans to assassinate key figures of the dynasty. The four martyrs sacrificed their lives for an unfulfilled cause. Monuments were put up in their honour (Shahid Gate) and their names glorified by the Shah monarchy that itself went on to ban political parties and persecute democracy activists. In 1950, the newly-formed Nepal National Congress launched an armed uprising against Rana rule after King Tribhuvan sought refuge at the Indian embassy to flee from the Rana regime. In 1951, the Ranas, Nepali Congress and King Tribhuvan signed a tripartite agreement that brought an end to 104 years of Rana rule.&nbsp; Thus began contemporary Nepal’s cycles of unfinished revolutions. Some 75 years later, on a sunny September morning, Nepal’s young and hopeful took to the streets demanding an end to the nation’s corrupt polity, envisioning a better democracy. They organised through digital platforms, played songs, danced, and chanted slogans. A few hours later, commandos fired on the protesters, massacring dozens. Over 8 and 9 September 2025, the government was overthrown, constitutional bodies were literally reduced to ashes, and 74 Nepalis were martyred.&nbsp; Nepal’s periodic revolutions have been ignited by anger against rulers, they have begun with great promise, spread with enthusiastic popular support despite rulers trying to crush them — but ultimately they have always fallen short of the expectations of citizens demanding reform. Through decades of dissent, Nepal’s periodic revolutions have remained incomplete, with the nation caught up in a cyclical search for stability.&nbsp; In 1960, king Mahendra staged a coup and overthrew an elected government led by prime minister B P Koirala -- a royal revolution against democracy. Mahendra is reported to have famously said to Koirala: “Nepal is not big enough for the two of us.” For the next 30 years Nepal resembled a one-party state under the absolute monarchy of the Panchayat. Elected leaders languished in jail or exile, political parties were banned, and the press controlled. This was the most frigid period of the Cold War, with Nepal’s neighbours India and China at war. Geopolitics was bound to have an impact. “After the 1816 Sugauli Treaty with British India, external forces magnified internal power struggles as outsiders played divide and rule,” explains editor and political analyst Rajendra Dahal. “Movements did not reach a logical conclusion because domestic politicians were forced to compromise.” Indeed, the departure of the British from India in 1947 meant that the days of the Anglophile Rana regime were numbered. Successive prime ministers sought patronage in Delhi, and the monarchy tried to counterbalance it with a policy of equidistance with China. The neighbours showed a keen strategic interest in Nepal’s domestic politics. “The Panchayat system did not deliver what it promised,” says Santosh Sharma Poudel of Nepal Institute of Policy and Research. “Nepalis suffered administrative and governance failure, politics was centralised in Kathmandu, leaving out the rest of Nepal.” With mainstream political parties and leaders were &nbsp;underground between 1961 till 1990, student activists became proxies for political parties. As pressure for change grew, a student-led pro-democracy movement spread across Nepal in 1979. In response, King Birendra announced a referendum to allow Nepalis to choose between the status quo and a ‘reformed’ Panchayat &nbsp;system.&nbsp; The Panchayat won by a slim margin with questions about the legitimacy of the plebiscite. The reforms never materialised and it would be another decade before street anger boiled over again. As the People’s Movement for democracy spread, king Birendra again relented, unbanning political parties and Nepal became a constitutional monarchy. Inspired by Mao Zedong, a faction of Nepal’s Communists felt that western-style parliamentary democracy was too slow to end a feudalist monarchy. They launched an armed struggle in 1996, and the war lasted ten years (editorial, page 2). “If the democratic government post-1990 had performed better, and brought real reform, the Maoists would not have a reason to launch a revolution,” says Poudel. After nearly a decade of bloodshed that left 17,000 dead and thousands still missing, the Maoists joined forces with the democratic parties that they had been fighting, to pressure king Gyanendra through street protests in 2006 to restore democracy. In 2008, an elected Constituent Assembly abolished the monarchy. &nbsp;Recalls Rajendra Dahal: “The second people’s movement did not aim to abolish the monarchy. In fact, the reinstated parliament even granted equal rights for royal daughters to be crowned queen. But eventually, the monarchy no longer fit the political framework that the parties envisioned.” It took two elections over the next eight years to draft a new Constitution that reflected Nepal’s socio-cultural and geographic diversity and met the demands of the Maoists. The new federal Constitution was finally promulgated in 2015, but failed to satisfy India and the aspirations of the Madhes communities for autonomy. The state’s effort to crush the Madhes movement cost 45 lives. The promise of the new Constitution was squandered over the next decade with rotating leadership of the NC, UML and the Maoists — all of whom had forgotten the sacrifices made in the name of revolution. Cronyism and corruption was the order of the day. And it was this never-ending cycle of political opportunism and malgovernance that brought Nepal’s youth to the streets on 8 September.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260101120128_bc50f6370ff80a6758199ea7ba9f4c214656a9322a8d2ba1c97e6cdfb88f7f62.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20260101120128_bc50f6370ff80a6758199ea7ba9f4c214656a9322a8d2ba1c97e6cdfb88f7f62" data-rendition-name="original" width="3372" height="1371" loading="lazy" alt="timeline"> </figure>  1951 Revolution against the &nbsp;Rana regime 1960 King Mahendra's coup, jails B P Koirala and launches the partyless Panchayat system 1979 Student protests for democracy, King Birendra announces referendum&nbsp; 1980 Continuation of the partyless Panchayat system narrowly wins plebiscite&nbsp; 1990 People’s Movement I 1996 Maoists launch armed struggle&nbsp; 2000 Royal Massacre 2005 King Gyanendra's military-backed coup&nbsp; 2006 Comprehensive Peace Accord and Parliament restored 2008 Monarchy is abolished 2015 Madhes Movement, New Constitution promulgated 2017 First 3-tier election under federal system 2022 Second elections under federal Constitution&nbsp; 2025 GenZ protests BRK ALLIANCE “The socio-political change sought in all these movements never matched the people’s expectations, because the central issue of clean and efficient government never materialised,” says Poudel. The post-September political landscape has injected new personalities and alliances still relatively new to politics, as evidenced by the new electoral partnership of the BRK — Balen Shah, Rabi Lamichhane, and Kulman Ghising (page 1).&nbsp; These leaders are not without flaws, but they have become the effective flag-bearers of the GenZ movement, hoping to represent Nepalis disillusioned by decades of democratic decay. The March election will pit them against the legacy parties. There is already criticism that BRK is behaving just like male-dominated opportunists of old parties. The troika is resembling the triumvirate of Oli, Deuba and Dahal and its culture of patronage and quid-pro-quo power-sharing between alpha males. Will this also be another unfinished revolution? Says political scientist Sucheta Pyakuryal: &nbsp;“The kind of destruction that happened after the revolution should have been followed by a ground-breaking shift in Nepal’s political ecosystem, but that did not happen. Today the situation is a lot grimmer because we have players who have learned how to use the democratic facade to sound ‘equitable’ and ‘accountable’. But look closely and you see how the same political chauvinism, cronyism and nepotism still continue.”&nbsp;

Nepal’s incomplete revolutions

After the 2008 Constituent Assembly election and the 2015 Constitution, scholars and civil society alike believed the country was on the path to lasting change.&nbsp;
Despite early optimism, democracy remains fragile and falling short of the expectations of citizens. A corrupt elite dominates the political landscape while young citizens grow disillusioned to the point of taking to the streets or staging a mass exodus.
The GenZ movement toppled the government and fresh elections are on the horizon, with that there is another promise of a ‘New Nepal’. Young people previously uninterested in state affairs are now alert and demand a voice. Promising new parties are emerging.&nbsp;
This political awakening should prompt reflection on where we went wrong and how to do better. One striking feature undermining Nepal’s democracy over the past three decades was the <a href="https://www.pressreader.com/india/the-hindu-bangalore-9WW1/20240718/281479281648573" target="_blank">sheer number of coalition</a> governments in such a short time.&nbsp;
Nepal has had 14 prime ministers in 16 years. Each of them served an average of just a little over a year. <a href="https://doi.org/10.1017/s0007123417000539" target="_blank">Coalitions are not inherently bad for a democracy</a>. In fact, coalitions can help bring in diversity of values, voices, and participation in Parliament.&nbsp;
However, chronic and unpredictable coalition patterns undermine and destabilise democracy. Nepal’s fragile coalition governments degenerated into unholy alliances and horse trading between ideologically divergent and previously rival groups.&nbsp;
When one coalition collapsed, the cycle repeated, leaving little room for long-term vision or consistent governance. The result? Corruption, endless infighting, stalled progress, and a nation stuck in political limbo.
This observation is not new, but the blame is misdirected. Some suggest a different electoral system entirely, but instead of scrapping the entire structure and building a new one from scratch, why not examine what went wrong within the systems we already have and fix those?&nbsp;
The coalition problem is not a result of the electoral system but of the party system. While political parties are the medium through which representation and mass participation occur, a party system is the entire network of how they interact, compete, and cooperate within a country’s political landscape.&nbsp;
It is not just one party that is the bad apple, the entire basket is creating conditions for the apples to rot.&nbsp;
The party system is weakly institutionalised. Nepal struggles with unpredictable electoral competition, widespread public distrust in political parties, fragmented internal party structures, and shallow societal embeddedness.&nbsp;
<a href="https://www.academia.edu/59719587/Party_System_Institutionalization_Party_Collapse_and_Party_Building" target="_blank">Party System Institutionalisation</a> should create a structured, programmatic competition, but in Nepal the political environment is dominated by elite-level bargaining and opportunistic alliances. Parties form and break coalitions not out of principle, but convenience. Power, not policy, becomes the goal.
This fragility did not emerge overnight. Nepal’s history of a turbulent democracy led to the creation of a necessity- and survival-driven party system.Political parties were born in precarious circumstances, emerging in secrecy, exile, or in response to survival imperatives, rather than organic political development.&nbsp;
The absolute monarchy was always a looming threat, and it worked to prevent the institutionalisation of party structures, even after 1990. As a result, coalition reshuffling became a reactionary survival strategy, reinforcing patterns of short-termism and deepening the perception of parties as opportunistic rather than principled actors.&nbsp;
Over the years, this cycle has hollowed out the substantive meaning of electoral competition: while parties compete and governments change, the underlying political dynamics remain stagnant, offering few real alternatives and fostering a culture of fickle and fragile coalitions.
Building a resilient democracy would require returning to the basics to &nbsp;strengthen the foundations of our party system. Political parties need to look inward and invest in their own institutional development.&nbsp;
That means promoting internal democracy through leadership term limits and transparent succession processes, building clearer ideological platforms that speak to citizens’ real concerns, and forging deeper and more consistent connections with society that go beyond election season or clientelistic outreach.&nbsp;
What Nepal’s parties need is not another rebranding campaign or a protest, but a fundamental reassessment of their purpose, vision, and social relevance.&nbsp;
These lessons are especially important for new political parties hoping to present themselves as genuine alternatives to the status quo. Real change will not come from winning seats alone, it will come from the hard, sustained work of building strong institutions and earning public confidence.&nbsp;
If we once again have hung parliaments, parties will need to build alliances grounded not in self-serving negotiations but in shared policy visions and ideological goals. Without such reforms, Nepal will remain trapped in the same cycle of coalition instability that has long undermined its promise of stable governance and a thriving democracy.
Suvexa Pradhan Tuladhar is an Early Career Policy Research Fellow at Nepal Institute for Policy Research (NIPoRe). She recently graduated from Lake Forest College, IL, USA, with a B.A. (Hons). She double-majored in International Relations and Sociology &amp; Anthropology and minored in Urban Studies.

Nepal’s party problem

Like many, my heart sank as I heard news of protesters being shot in Kathmandu. Just a week prior, I had been there discussing approaches to urban peacebuilding.
The signs of unrest were already visible: police in riot gear, rumours of growing protests, and conversations about corruption and democratic accountability.
Two years earlier, I had heard young people across Nepal raising their voices about unemployment, stale leadership, environmental challenges, LGBT rights, caste discrimination, and more. At that time, it felt hopeful as protest and dialogue are vital signs of democracy. But last month it was clear pressure was building.
What was not clear was just how close frustration and marginalisation were to a violent tipping point. In hindsight, there was space for dialogue and more constructive action on the part of political leaders to address frustration, but that opportunity was missed.
Nepal and Kathmandu now stand at a crossroads. Nearly two decades after the armed conflict, the country has made remarkable gains: a new Constitution, stronger democratic institutions, and more inclusive representation. Few post-war states have built participatory institutions as Nepal has. Yet sustaining democracy is not the same as transitioning to it.
Old challenges such as regional inequality, social marginalisation, economic precarity, and limits on free expression have not vanished. A new generation, especially GenZ, is demanding reforms. They are not rejecting democracy, they are calling for its fulfillment.
The question is not whether Nepal changes, but how and whether reforms can be rooted in sustainable, democratic institutions and more inclusive economic models.
UNDERLYING DRIVERS&nbsp;
Kathmandu will need to play a central role in addressing underlying drivers of conflict while simultaneously navigating the pressures of rapid urbanisation: gentrification, loss of public space, and widening inequality. The ability to foster meaningful participation and greater equity in the city will play a pivotal role in shaping the success of Nepal’s democracy more broadly.
There are numerous examples of cities around the world that have enjoyed successes in dealing with these deep-rooted challenges. Colombia’s <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/22472117/" target="_blank">social urbanism</a> in Medellín played a role in dramatically reducing homicide rates and social marginalization.&nbsp;
In Porto Alegre, Brazil’s pioneering <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/259125910_The_Effects_of_Participatory_Budgeting_on_Municipal_Expenditures_and_Infant_Mortality_in_Brazil" target="_blank">participatory budgeting</a> model increased democratic participation, even helping to reduce infant mortality. Each demonstrates how inclusive urban governance can reduce structural violence and strengthen democratic legitimacy.
In Nepal one critical step would be to design an urban peacebuilding plan not as a narrow conflict-resolution tool, but as a framework for participatory democracy from the ground up. Too often, peacebuilding is treated as something for post-war transitions. In fact, it is essential to democratic resilience: building trust, analysing shared problems, and continuing to develop collective vision. And it must come in large part from within.
Nepal has already proven it can do that. Building on existing infrastructure an urban peace plan for Kathmandu could accelerate social repair, develop models of solidarity economics, and strengthen participatory governance. The key for this plan’s success is to create a local, accessible, place-based peace centres which bridges democratic dialogue that young people are leading online into offline settings where citizens of all backgrounds can engage.
There is already a foundation to build on. Each of Kathmandu’s 32 wards has a mediation centre aimed at resolving disputes locally, and <a href="https://www.thewomencell.com/en/notice/oath-taking-mediators" target="_blank">women’s networks</a> have been mobilised to support and strengthen these efforts. Peace centres can be developed to help take on the deeper structural challenges facing Nepal’s youth which the current mediation centres are not equipped to address.
Peace centres could grow to include ward level local peace councils (LPC) that actively foster connections and dialogue across generational, caste, ethnic, gender, and religious lines. Peace councils in this new context could be adapted to build on lessons learned about LPCs during the post war period and to address a new context.
That could include facilitating meaningful conversations about how government resources are utilised through <a href="https://vimeo.com/107121298" target="_blank">participatory budgeting</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pHeRD-rr6wk" target="_blank">legislative forum theater</a> and other well established participatory mechanisms that move from consultation to active decision-making.
Importantly, they can also serve as hubs to facilitate experiments with economic self-reliance by providing resources to help facilitate planning and investment in cooperatively owned production, mutual aid, women’s enterprises, youth social enterprises and other systematically organised community-driven development approaches. This will help reduce exclusion that fuels anger.
This plan creates an important “in between space” between party politics and social media driven activism. Democracy does not require everyone to be a politician, but it does require that everyone have meaningful ways to shape public life and spaces conducive to doing so.&nbsp;
This needs to be nurtured and Nepal already has the human capital to support community-led development, dialogue and participatory democracy. Accelerating education rooted in civic responsibility could link schools and communities, preparing a new generation of young people for leadership in democratic dialogue, and community level development planning.
At this crossroads, Kathmandu can become more than Nepal’s political capital. It can model how cities anchor peace, democracy, and justice in everyday life. The future of Nepal’s democracy depends not only on how it responds to moments of protest and uprising, but on how it builds everyday institutions that address the tensions that make political and economic frustration explode.
The key question is whether leaders and citizens alike are prepared to take this next step and have the support to do so; moving from fragile democracy to a resilient, participatory peace.
Arthur Romano, PhD, is a faculty member at George Mason University’s Jimmy and Rosalynn Carter School for Peace and Conflict Resolution, where he directs the Program on Urban Peacebuilding. His research and practice focus on urban peacebuilding, restorative justice and the design of city-wide learning systems for violence prevention.

Urban peacebuilding for democracy

The protest led by digital-native generation is not a rejection of democratic norms but rather an insistence for the Constitution’s most fundamental guarantees to be taken seriously. What confronts us is not youthful defiance, but political impunity masquerading as governance.&nbsp;
The spreading narrative that our protests were about a fleeting social media ban insults our generation’s intelligence. The protest has exposed a deeper generational revolt. No longer will we pay for impunity, we are determined to confront it as a constitutional betrayal rather than an inevitability of culture.
We know what is enshrined in our Constitution. Article 17 guarantees us the right to freedom: a freedom to assemble peacefully and without arms. Yet when we exercised those rights, the state met us with bullets instead of dialogue. That betrayal forces us to ask if Nepal is capable of delivering real democratic substance, or will the upcoming generation be left to inherit yet another endless cycle of hollow symbols and the whims of the powerful?
We, GenZ, are not demanding reforms at the margin. We are asking for the future our Constitution promised. We look ahead with both clarity and urgency.
We envision a democracy true to its words, where the Constitution is honoured in practice; where digital freedom is not revoked when it unsettles entrenched power, where the judiciary upholds the law without fear or favor, and independent watchdogs strike at impunity with unflinching integrity, and where elections reflect the true will of citizens rather than the staged choreography of the elites.
We foresee a cultural transformation-connection being no longer needed for survival. We can only laugh when they label our demands as ‘utopian’, imagine living in a nation where fundamentals of democracy are themselves treated as luxuries.
What is new is our unwillingness to wait. Raised on digital democracy, well aware of the law and fluent in hashtags, we are unafraid to take our case to the streets when institutions have repeatedly failed us. The whole nation is watching the interim government closely, and so are we -- the generation determined to make a system which works for all, not just for the privileged few.
Sambriddhi Aryal, 21, is a fourth-year student at Kathmandu School of Law with a keen eye on constitutional law, civic rights, and the pulse of global change.

GenZ constitutional awakening

On 8 September, Nepal witnessed one of the darkest chapters in its democratic journey. What began as a peaceful demonstration by GenZ students against corruption ended in tragedy.
Young people, many still in their school uniforms, came forward with banners and voices, not weapons. They believed that wearing their uniforms would protect them, a symbol of innocence and safety. Instead, they were met with tear gas, bullets, and chaos.
I was there. I marched with two of my closest friends. I heard chants rise, I saw hope spread. And then, in one moment, everything changed. The air filled with sirens and smoke, our voices drowned in chaos. I was pulled back before it was too late, but others were not so lucky.
That night, my Instagram feed was filled with trembling hands, bloodied uniforms, and lifeless eyes. They were children like me, who trusted the very state that turned its guns on them.
And as if that was not enough, opportunists took advantage. While we bled, criminals escaped from prisons. At the same time, political actors attempted to hijack the movement for their own interests, undermining the authentic voices of the young generation. These betrayals deepened the sense of injustice and disillusionment among Nepal’s youth.
Despite the grief, one truth remains: this generation refuses to be silenced. From the ashes of 8 September must emerge a stronger, more accountable Nepal.
To honour those who lost their lives and to safeguard the nation’s future, the following are essential:
• Justice for the martyrs. Not only official recognition but also lifelong support to their families, including education, healthcare, and economic assistance.
• Independent Truth and Justice Commission. An impartial body with international oversight to investigate the events and ensure transparent, public trials.
• Accountability for violence. Immediate suspension, investigation, and prosecution of officers and commanders who authorised or used violence against students.
•Vetting of political leaders. A commission to ensure that no past leader returns to power without thorough investigation and clearance from corruption or abuse of power. Every new minister and officer must also meet strict academic and professional standards, pass full background checks, and have no criminal record.
• Re-arrest of escaped criminals. Publication of wanted lists and formation of task forces with strict deadlines to restore law and order.
• National healing and trauma care. Counseling and support programs for survivors, families, and students who experienced trauma.
• Memorialisation: Construction of a Youth Martyrs’ Memorial in Kathmandu and designate 8 September as Youth Courage Day.
• Police and security reform. Ban on live ammunition in peaceful protests, mandatory body cameras, and human rights training for law enforcement.
• Youth participation in governance. Establishment of a permanent Youth Advisory Council under the government to ensure young voices shape national policy.
• Accountability of the interim government: monthly progress updates and a 100-day roadmap with clear deadlines for reforms and justice.
• Curriculum inclusion. Incorporation of 8 September protest into school textbooks to educate future generations the cost of freedom.
• Exoneration of GenZ protesters. Officially clear GenZ of any responsibility for property damage, recognising that any destruction was caused by opportunists, while our actions remained peaceful and focused on justice.
These demands are not radical, they are the foundation of a dignified society. In the short term, citizens expect justice for victims, re-arrest of escaped criminals, and concrete accountability from the interim government. In the long term, we look toward systemic reforms: a political culture rooted in merit, transparency, and integrity, and a nation where youth are active participants in governance.
The GenZ protest was more than a demonstration, it was a test of Nepal’s democracy. The state’s failure to protect its children has left a wound that cannot heal without truth and justice. If we act decisively, we can transform grief into reform, betrayal into accountability, and tragedy into hope.The blood of our generation must be the foundation upon which a just, transparent, and inclusive Nepal is built.
Niharika Sah is a final-year engineering student from Lalitpur with a deep love for literature and poetry.&nbsp;

The Nepal our friends died for

Social media has long been more than entertainment for young Nepalis. It has become a civic space where they stay informed on national issues, challenge authority, demand accountability, and organise for change.
In early September, TikTok, Reddit, and other platforms were flooded with a 'naming and shaming' campaign aimed at so-called 'nepo babies' in Nepal. Echoing similar movements in Indonesia and Sri Lanka, the campaign resonated deeply with disillusioned Nepali Gen Z. &nbsp;
Frustration escalated when the government banned 26 social media platforms including Facebook, WhatsApp, and Instagram, for failing to register within Nepal. The ban shut down the civic space Gen Z relied on. What began online spilled onto the streets, sparking nationwide protests now known as the GenZ protests. Young Nepalis voluntarily marched, demanding two urgent reforms: lifting the social media ban and rooting out corruption.
For many, the anger runs far deeper than digital restrictions. Public trust in politicians has withered after decades of power struggles between Sher Bahadur Deuba, Pushpa Kamal Dahal and K P Oli. Tired of the endless game of musical chairs who promise change but deliver betrayal, GenZ insists that politicians are not divine power to be worshipped but public servants who must answer to the people.
On 8 September, GenZ protesters marched peacefully, carrying artistic placards and singing patriotic songs. Police responded with deadly force firing live rounds, deploying tear gas, and beating protesters with batons and water cannons, resulting in the mass killing of our fellow protesters. What began as a citizen’s duty to hold the government accountable turned into a tragedy because the government forgot that it is the guardian of its people, not their murderer.
On 9 September, rage engulfed the nation. People from every corner joined the protests, responding to the government’s failure and the brutal mass murder of young people. Taking advantage of the situation, some vested groups infiltrated the demonstrations, which escalated into violence, including arson, vandalism, and attacks on property and individuals holding political power.
Following the incident, the government was overthrown, and GenZ formed a citizen’s Government. Our primary demand to this new government is a full and impartial investigation into the mass murder. GenZ has specifically identified former Prime Minister K P Oli, former Home Minister Ramesh Lekhak, and the former Inspector General of Police Chandra Kuber Khapung who must be investigated free from political interference.&nbsp;
Those found guilty must be held accountable under national law. Additionally, GenZ demands a transparent inquiry into the vandalism and arson that occurred on 9 September, emphasising that attacks on public property undermine the true spirit of their movement.
GenZ’s second demand is the conduction of fair elections on 5 March 2026. The true measure of this interim government’s success lies in fulfilling that commitment.
The third demand is the establishment of a high-level, independent anti-corruption mechanism to investigate graft since the restoration of democracy in 1990. GenZ argues that existing watchdog bodies are toothless, filled with political appointees loyal to ruling parties. The new body must be free from political influence and empowered to investigate and prosecute even the most powerful. These demands are not negotiable.
While united on these core demands, GenZ activists hold different views on the political system’s future. Some advocate for a directly elected prime minister, while others favor reforms within the existing parliamentary structure. Even young members within ruling parties share this frustration, calling for internal reforms and urging long-entrenched leaders to step aside and pass the mantle of leadership to a new generation. This is not a formal demand but a discussion taking place within GenZ circles.
Debates over the Constitution of Nepal 2015 have also surfaced. While some anti-democratic actors have called for its nullification, GenZ protesters firmly reject this. This Constitution was achieved through nearly a decade of struggle. Although it is rare for a Constituent Assembly to fail in delivering a Constitution, Nepal became an exceptional case when the first assembly collapsed without producing one. This failure led to the formation of a second Constituent Assembly, which ultimately delivered the 2015 Constitution.
GenZ continues to uphold the principles of a Federal Democratic Republic of Nepal. They emphasise that the Constitution must be implemented in its true spirit ensuring accountability, transparency, and rule of law.
At the same time, no Constitution is perfect. Society is constantly evolving. Space for amendments should always exist, as in any healthy democracy, to address shortcomings and strengthen its foundations. However, this remains a background discussion, not a central agenda of the GenZ movement.
Though triggered by the social media ban, the GenZ protests represent something deeper. This generation demands strengthening the pillars of good governance. For Nepal’s GenZ, this movement is reclaiming democracy, reclaiming their space.
Eight September is embedded into GenZ’s collective memory as a trauma that will continue to haunt Nepal unless the nation changes its course. And if it does not, GenZ will keep rising up, not only as the greatest leaders but, more importantly, as a most formidable opposition. 
 
Tanuja Pandey is a lawyer and climate justice activist.

A new dawn for democracy in Nepal

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

Shristi Karki

Nepal’s historic youth dissensus

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?

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Nepal election live results

“Let's have another cup of tea,” <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/ujwal-thapa-s-light-shines-on-n0tfurod">Ujwal Thapa</a> of the alternative Bibeksheel Nepali party told the young activist Pukar Bam ten years ago. The two had 12 cups of tea that day, discussing ways to get Nepal out of its political deadend. Thapa contested the Constituent Assembly election in 2013 as an independent from Kathmandu, and formed Bibeksheel Nepali to galvanise youth impatient for change, fielding candidates in the first federal election in 2017. Ujwal Thapa was a political guru who was way ahead of his time, and his protégés were among the RSP’s winning candidates in last week’s election. Pukar Bam was a core member of Bibeksheel Nepali until its dissolution, and won the Kathmandu-4 seat this time. Other former Bibeksheel members who won the election from the RSP in Kathmandu include Ranju Neupane from Kathmandu-1, Sasmit Pokharel from Kathmandu-5, and Biraj Bhakta Shrestha in Kathmandu-8. As votes were counted and the results from Kathmandu began to come in, the candidates paid fulsome tribute to Ujwal Thapa’s mentorship and in inspiring idealistic youth to become a part of an alternative political force. Today, as RSP members of Parliament, they are no longer an alternative, but a part of Nepal’s new mainstream politics. Thapa returned to Nepal after finishing his undergraduate computer science degree in the US at the peak of the Maoist insurgency. His foray into politics began when he traveled to Nepal’s western mountains to train communities in mediation. After the war, he started a computer design company for young entrepreneurs entering the workforce. But he became frustrated with the inability of the second Constituent Assembly to promulgate the Constitution, and the power struggle between political parties played out in the streets that led to frequent shutdowns paralysing the country.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260313120348_d18647d53a3b2927328067c35b2e3e6eecf9aefe13f23384e73a2c17211cd9cb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20260313120348_d18647d53a3b2927328067c35b2e3e6eecf9aefe13f23384e73a2c17211cd9cb" data-rendition-name="original" width="823" height="682" loading="lazy" alt="The RSP's activist DNA"><figcaption>Thapa with Pukar Bam, who was elected to Parliament last week from Kathmandu-4. Photo: PUKAR BAM / FACEBOOK</figcaption></figure>  PROTEST TO POLITICS Ujwal Thapa had had enough, and rallied people from across walks of life, leading peaceful, silent demonstrations proclaiming 'नेपाल खुल्ला छ' against prolonged, violent strikes. Citizens fed up with the main political parties organised to defy the shutdowns. Thapa’s activism and vision for a new Nepal drew disenchanted and previously apathetic youth into politics and to join the Bibeksheel Sajha Party in 2013. Thapa was the pioneer of alternative politics in Nepal, and was leading a youth force long before the GenZ became synonymous with Nepal’s September Storm. He mentored and guided social activists who are today influential youth leaders engaged in non-traditional politics. “Ujwal Thapa, with his entrepreneurial spirit, wanted to address people’s pain-points, and believed that activism was the starting point to alternative politics,” explains <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-loses-rare-purpose-driven-leader">Ashutosh Tiwari</a>, former member of Bibeksheel Sajha party. “He sought to build confidence, motivate, and build a community for young people, which drew a lot of people into Bibeksheel.” He adds: “ And while people might say that Bibeksheel never got big, that was never its point. Its function was to be an early talent incubator, which is what it did as evident by the result of this election.” Thapa died in 2021 of complications related to Covid-19, and Bibeksheel had two mergers with Rabindra Mishra’s Sajha Party before being permanently dissolved in 2021. But many of its idealistic members joined Rabi Lamichhane’s RSP, formed just four months before the 2022 federal election. Such was the groundswell of support for change that the RSP became the fourth-largest in Parliament. In 2017, Ranju Neupane (then Ranju Darshana) was the youngest mayoral candidate for Kathmandu at age 21, and contested the federal election in 2022. Pukar Bam himself lost the 2022 election in Kathmandu-1 as an independent.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260313120348_6302a9b534f57191d9a2cb2c31b31449873c6cc27d375344a248dd90847921dd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20260313120348_6302a9b534f57191d9a2cb2c31b31449873c6cc27d375344a248dd90847921dd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1729" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="The RSP's activist DNA"><figcaption>Photo: SOCIAL MEDIA</figcaption></figure>  Sashmit Pokharel also ran an unsuccessful campaign as an independent candidate in Kathmandu during the 2022 provincial election. Later, he was a member of the City Planning Commission under Balendra Shah when he was elected mayor of Kathmandu in 2022. Last week, the RSP swept the election with a supermajority of 182 seats in Parliament. Voters placed their trust in the party and its leaders to steer Nepal in a new direction after the youth unrest in September. In many ways, Nepal’s youth have decided, just as Ujwal Thapa once did, that enough is enough with corruption, malgovernance, nepotism and dynastic politics. In the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/the-man-who-shook-our-minds">documentary</a> about his life, Dimag Ghochne Manche, released earlier this year, some RSP nominees who previously worked with and were mentored by Thapa spoke of the impact he had on their lives, career, and activism. Among them is Biraj Bhakta Shrestha, former minister of Youth and Sports who is now a second time RSP parliamentarian. “I tell everybody that if it hadn’t been for Ujwal Dai, I would not have gotten into politics,” he says in the film. It would be unfair to attribute all the success of the hard-fought campaigns entirely to Ujwal Thapa’s protégés and former coworkers. But his ethos and vision for Nepal was what inspired them, and will in the coming years be reflected in national politics through the young idealists he mentored. Says Ashutosh Tiwari: “There are many Bibeksheels outside of RSP in constant and open communication with their old friends who have been elected. They will be keeping the lawmakers in check so that they do no stray too far from the values that they grew up with.”

RSP’s activist DNA

It took the September GenZ firestorm and public anger against non-performing actors for a 35-year-old structural engineer and rapper Balendra (Balen) Shah to oust Nepal’s four-time prime minister and former revolutionary.
The UML’s KP Oli has been trounced by 50,000 votes in his home turf, an area where he has won many elections in his 55-year political career. It is the same story across Nepal, where established politicians are being rejected by voters.
A 'Balen Wave' has swept the country, dyeing it in the RSP’s Blue party colour. But the UML and NC particularly did this to themselves.&nbsp;
An apology and a retirement after the September protests would have saved Oli some dignity, and given the rebranded UML a tiny bit of hope and perhaps a few more electoral wins.&nbsp;
Maybe he could have been remembered fondly as the funny old guy who made one last fatal political error, but now he will be defined by this defeat. Maintaining control and legitimacy in his own party will be hard too.&nbsp;
Contrary to his past combativeness and blaming nefarious foreign conspiracies, Oli gracefully conceded on Saturday, congratulating 'Balen Babu' &nbsp;and wishing him 'a successful five years'.
Balendra Shah and his RSP knew what they were doing. As of Sunday, it has won 118 and leads in 7 other constituencies, a lot of them with similarly wide margins of victory. RSP candidates have even beaten well regarded candidates like Gagan Thapa of the NC and Kulman Ghising of Ujyalo Nepal.&nbsp;

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 <figcaption>Animation: ANUP TAMU</figcaption>
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Many including this paper questioned the RSP's strategy of choosing popular candidates over competence. But the point of an election is to win it, and there was a short campaign window to put it all together and the RSP pulled it off most successfully.&nbsp;
To be sure, the party should not get too much credit. Its manifesto was broad and bland, and no different than the other older parties.&nbsp;
A big part of the RSP ballots, maybe even most of it, were people voting against the old parties rather than for it. Many seemed to feel that this was coming, and perhaps even hoped for it.
There is also a sense of lingering cynicism. Nepal has had several revolutions and many new political starts and things always seem to end up in the same corrupt hopelessness. There is every possibility that the new RSP government will also go the same way.&nbsp;
The RSP is much bigger than Balendra Shah, although it was his popularity that made this victory possible. Its victory brings with it a sense of hope as all new things do.&nbsp;
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Not all party members who were elected are going to be as accountable or have integrity. Many of them have a chequered past, saw an opportunity in joining the RSP and took the risk.&nbsp;
What changed things were the events of September. Politicians saw firsthand that 'Power to the People' is not some abstract idea. Get too loose to it, forget that you are ruling and not serving, and you get booted out.&nbsp;
The interim Sushila Karki government deserve credit for delivering on its biggest mandate of holding the election in such a short time frame. The expectation at large was that the polls would be delayed or even scuttled.
In fact, a two-thirds RSP majority is a great opportunity to rethink the country’s political culture and institutionalise change. The point of the government in a democracy is to serve the people. Appointing non-political, competent people worked, at least in the short tenure of the interim government.&nbsp;
Adding layers of bureaucracy and committees and party politics along federal, provincial and local levels heaped resistance to the simple goal of making lives easier for the Nepali.&nbsp;
Nepal is getting a reboot, and the next few months will show whether the country is on the right track with its new generation government.

Balen takes Jhapa and Nepal

The Bell that rang in the new A daughter stands in her family's living room, frantically ringing an actual घण्टी at her father. He is a lifelong Nepali Congress (NC) voter. She tells him his party loyalty is as humiliating as a daughter eloping.&nbsp; He looks visibly defeated, and because of RSP’s landslide sweep in this election, he has no reply. She is not a party member. Nobody told her to do this.&nbsp; Multiply this actual family scene by hundreds of thousands of households across Nepal and you find the reason for the RSP tsunami. Children ringing bells at parents over dinner. Aunties shaking bells at legacy party candidates on their morning walks. Taxi drivers, lifelong UML supporters, cheerfully announcing they have switched.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031014038_096f980a799b4f80118863174ed629680cc6c21b02e226a899ce1dc5268b4b72.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2026031014038_096f980a799b4f80118863174ed629680cc6c21b02e226a899ce1dc5268b4b72" data-rendition-name="original" width="364" height="662" loading="lazy" alt="RSP Flag prank"> </figure>  And overseas, Nepalis in Dubai and Doha, Sydney and Seattle, calling home to deliver just one instruction: “चुपचाप &nbsp;घण्टीमा छाप”।&nbsp; How did an election symbol like the Bell jump off a ballot paper and become weaponised for generational shame?&nbsp; The RSP's 2026 campaign is a case study in how a symbol becomes so participatory and instinctive, that citizens start campaigning on behalf of a party they never formally joined. It may look like a cult, but it is a phenomenon no political party in Nepal has ever pulled off. The ghost in the machine&nbsp; The 3-year-old RSP entered the 2026 race without the campaign infrastructure that legacy parties considered essential. It has no sister organisations, no vanguard student unions, no established cadre networks.&nbsp; In a country where ground reach and organisation wins elections, this looked like a fatal handicap. Established parties had spent decades building a top-down machinery: youth wings that mobilise on orders and unions within government. But it was all hollow and manufactured.&nbsp; That is why when the NC or UML posted a policy manifesto, it got barely 200 shares. When a 19-year-old posts an <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/spot-ai-generated-election-videos">AI video on TikTok </a>of Balendra Shah swinging a bell like a Kung Fu Hustle weapon, it gets 5 million views.&nbsp; The RSP’s very absence became its strategic advantage. Without a chain of command for content, every post felt peer-to-peer. Supporters built communities instead of following orders. Network effects took over: one person posts, three friends remix it, their followers adapt it for their own local context, and the message multiplies without a single directive from party headquarters. A TikTok from Kathmandu featuring Balendra Shah gets remixed by someone in Birganj who <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@bhojpuriyasuppor0/video/7596686360111484178?q=bhojpuri%20dub%20balen&amp;t=1773115199365">dubs it in Bhojpuri</a>. A supporter in Pokhara takes the same “अबकि बार बालेन सरकार” audio and films it over footage of the city’s broken road.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031014038_56090217f5b3482fad934c4f76fc872047571b3c86331a4eda1ac19ae389c2fc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2026031014038_56090217f5b3482fad934c4f76fc872047571b3c86331a4eda1ac19ae389c2fc" data-rendition-name="original" width="375" height="646" loading="lazy" alt="Balen Bhojpuri remix"> </figure>  A Nepali worker in Dubai films himself shaking his phone at the camera, captioning it “I can't vote but my family can”. The content stays structurally the same (bell + emotion) but the surface changes every time. The format is the constant. The context is the variable. A single post multiplies into a thousand pieces of local content without anyone coordinating it. Legacy parties spent money on reach. RSP's strategy built reach for free, because participation itself was the product. The Bell, blazer and brand&nbsp; Run the sensory test. The UML's Sun symbol is only visual. You see it on a ballot, on a flag. You cannot hear a sun. You cannot perform a &nbsp;sun. Nobody walks into a room and ‘suns’ at an opponent.&nbsp; The NC’s Tree symbol is also only seen. It communicates nothing as a verb. Nobody ‘trees’ the father across the dinner table. Ujyalo Nepal's lightbulb was the most passive symbol of all, it just sits there being always on. The Bell had rare resonance as an election symbol. It is a verb (to ring), a sound (tintinnabulation), a physical action (shaking), and a metaphor (wake-up call). घण्टी is participatory by design. You do not just see it, you perform it.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260310140312_c5580164e1f11a8466f591c4d514420bb5313a34b559554db05364065486c3b7.png" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20260310140312_c5580164e1f11a8466f591c4d514420bb5313a34b559554db05364065486c3b7" data-rendition-name="original" width="368" height="654" loading="lazy" alt="Classroom ghanti NT"> </figure>  It works as a metaphor: wake up. It works as a taunt: we are coming (“हामी आयौँ”). It operates across sensory channels a meme can travel through. The other party symbols are logos. The घण्टी is a multimedia verb in active voice. Poets on the frontline Politics has always been about performance. Murray Edelman wrote decades ago that political actions are symbolic acts: what politicians do matters less than what their actions represent.&nbsp; Guy-Ernest Debord argued that spectacle replaces lived experience. But the stage has changed. The social media feed is the new stage, and the algorithm is the casting director. It does not select for policy depth, but for recognisability, emotional charge, and remix potential. Poets have always been at the frontlines of political rupture. The French Revolution had its pamphleteers. The Bolsheviks had Mayakovsky. The Black Panthers had Gil Scott-Heron. Nepal's own political history is full of writers who paid for their words with prison or exile.&nbsp; Rap is rhythm and poetry. Balen Shah did not cross from entertainment into politics, his art was always political. “सडकबालक" in 2012 was already a protest song. The diss tracks against corruption were manifestos set to beat.&nbsp; So, if घण्टी was the sound, Balen was the voice. Supporters rang Bells to perform, projecting their hopes on Balen. One is participatory (anyone can ring it), the other is aspirational (representing what you want the country to become). Together, they form a complete symbolic system: an action and an icon, a thing you do, and a person you believe in. Both are algorithm-native. The sunglasses are instantly recognisable in a thumbnail at any size. The bell sound action is identifiable within half a second of a video starting. The confrontational attitude generates the emotional charge that the algorithm rewards.&nbsp; Balen was already trained in the language of the algorithm: hooks, rhythm, timing, and audience retention. While legacy politicians are just now trying to learn the language of the algorithm, Balen grew up speaking it. The folk song brand kit: The slogans wrote themselves. While legacy politicians are just now trying to learn the language of the algorithm, Balen has grown up speaking it. The folk song brand kit The slogans wrote themselves. “चुपचाप &nbsp;घण्टीमा छाप” spread through tea shops and bus parks like a folk proverb. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-ai-generated-election">AI-generated Mahabharat edits</a> positioned Balendra Shah as a warrior-hero fighting K P Oli in golden armour.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2026031014038_cd7fbb8b4a97628757977b55d1244b192c233566dad268e894c7132d16cf180c.png" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2026031014038_cd7fbb8b4a97628757977b55d1244b192c233566dad268e894c7132d16cf180c" data-rendition-name="original" width="369" height="667" loading="lazy" alt="Ghanti Chhap NT"> </figure>  The entire package, partly by accident, partly by instinct, was built to be remixed. Every element is modular: the bell, the sunglasses, the slogan, the attitude. Take any piece and make your own version. Like a ‘Deusi re” song, the melody is fixed, everyone knows it, but anyone can change the words to fit their occasion and mood. It survives across generations precisely because no one controls it.&nbsp; The घण्टी ecosystem works the same way. The melody is fixed: the bell, the sound, the slogan, the sunglasses, the attitude. But the lyrics can be anyone’s. Shoot it in your neighborhood. Dub it in your language. Film your grandmother's reaction. Set it to your local context. That's why it spread faster than any IT cell could manufacture.&nbsp; The generational pincer The standard narrative is that digital movements stay digital, and that memes are a GenZ thing. RSP broke both assumptions. Its content operation executed a pincer movement across generations, capturing not just the youth vote but used youth as a delivery mechanism into households where no party organiser could reach. The Generational Pincer Flowchart Three vectors of pressure, all converging on the same target: the living room and the dinner table, where votes in Nepal are actually decided. Downward: children trolling parents by ringing bells at dinner, turning family meals into campaign arenas. A bell rings as a prank, then as a joke, then as a political statement. By the third night, it's not funny anymore. It's a conversation.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20260310140316_446e465f60994532e53b1786368dd025e9ad99a387b4121493f8826c46921cb7.png" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20260310140316_446e465f60994532e53b1786368dd025e9ad99a387b4121493f8826c46921cb7" data-rendition-name="original" width="364" height="669" loading="lazy" alt="Ghanti prank"> </figure>  Lateral: the diaspora pipeline. Nepalis in Australia, the Gulf, Japan, could not vote, but they turned every Viber call home into a campaign touchpoint.&nbsp; Upward: the bell pressured power itself. No RSP organiser gets a meeting with a UML ward chairman or a NC MP. But those people go home. And at home, they have teenagers, nieces, nephews, and staff whose kids are on TikTok.&nbsp; A party boss's son rings a bell at dinner and asks uncomfortable questions. A NC donor's daughter shares RSP content on her Instagram story, visible to her father's entire social circle. No political structure, no matter how hierarchical, is sealed off from its own household. The bell did not need to breach the gates of Singha Durbar, it walked in through the kitchen window. The result crossed every demographic line analysts thought was fixed. Memes didn't just stay in the feed. They colonised the living room, the kitchen, the long-distance phone call, the taxi ride. Content nobody commissioned&nbsp; What the RSP's organic content looked less like a political campaign and more like a football fan club. People were not posting because they were told to. They were posting because they belonged. Trace the trends as they accumulated: <ul> <li>“<a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@rameshmahto065/video/7610784878174424338?q=chup%20chap%20ghanti%20chap&amp;t=1773115568686">चुपचाप &nbsp;घण्टीमा छाप</a>” started as a TikTok post, then showed up on motorcycle stickers, WhatsApp statuses, AI-remixed songs, and in tea-shop conversation as a folk proverb.</li> <li><a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@rajjimond_18/video/7612570510508969236?q=ma%20ta%20balen%20ko%20fan&amp;t=1773115129539">Original songs composed by supporters</a>, not the party, gained millions of views. People danced to them at rallies and in the streets. People at polling booths created TikToks to RSP anthems to show their support.</li> <li>AI spectacle videos of Balen as a Mahabharat hero, filmy dialogue, stylised Nepal flag. Slapstick clips hitting 200K+ likes and 5M views. All made by random accounts, none traceable to party infrastructure.</li> <li>Supporters built Bell apps and websites on their own. One site, <a href="https://ghanti.website">ghanti.website</a>, was registered by a random supporter in January. Open it on your phone, shake it side to side, and it rings. Within weeks, crowds of supporters were walking through neighborhoods shaking their phones in unison, producing a wall of digital bell sound.</li> <li>The intimate content. A husband-wife vlog filmed inside a car, casually discussing what a lawmaker should actually do. Just two people talking, and it resonated more than any campaign ad.</li> </ul> None of this was centrally coordinated. Parties across Nepal spent money on polished graphics that looked like professional advertisements. RSP supporters spent nothing and made content that felt like conversation. The algorithm doesn't reward production value, it rewards emotional resonance. And nothing resonated more than the feeling that you, personally, could participate in this movement without anyone's permission. Now what? The RSP has a supermajority. The Bell rang louder than anyone predicted. But a movement built on open-source energy now has to deliver closed-source results: budgets, legislation, diplomacy, institutional reform. Balen built his brand by bypassing institutions, Prime Minister Balendra Shah has to run them. He communicated through Facebook posts and rap lyrics. Now he needs to communicate with India, China, and multilateral lenders.&nbsp; His midnight F-bomb post, deleted within 30 minutes but screenshotted by thousands, showed both his appeal (unfiltered authenticity) and his risk (unfiltered impulsiveness). The question is not whether the bell rang loud enough. It obviously did. The question is what happens when the supporters who posted without being asked start expecting results they did not specify. When the meme energy that won living rooms has to translate into parliamentary committees.&nbsp; For decades, the promise of democracy was that people choose their leaders. What RSP's campaign revealed is something more uncomfortable: in the age of the algorithm and remixable content, people do not just choose their leaders.&nbsp; They build the campaign, write the slogans, produce the content, convert their own families, and then show up to vote for the movement they made with their own hands. The party becomes a container for energy it didn't create and can't fully control.&nbsp; That's either the most democratic thing that's ever happened in Nepal, or the most dangerous. It might be both.

democracy