<figure><img width="613" height="852" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121152/636ce6b69c7e80680e096780jpeg.jpg" alt=""/><figcaption>Born on the trail en route to meet the Queen and Prince Philip, Thukten Phillip Sherpa was named by the Duke, who appointed himself godfather of the 5-day-old boy. </figcaption></figure>The Sherpa leader and guardian of the yeti scalp, Konjo Chumbi, and his young wife were hurrying down from Khumjung on the Sagarmatha trail for an audience with <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=8301#.YITrS-4za71">Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip during their visit to Nepal in 1961.</a>As close associates of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/highs-and-lows-of-sir-ed/">Sir Edmund Hillary</a> and collaborators in his yeti expedition activities, a private gathering had been arranged in Kathmandu with the royal guests. Sir Ed and Tenzing Norgay’s historic first ascent of Mount Everest on the eve of Elizabeth’s coronation on 29 May 1953 had forged a special bond that would last their lifetime.Just after lunch near Jiri, Konjo Chumbi’s wife gave birth to a son. The story goes: ‘She went down to the stream for a wash and came back 30 minutes later holding a baby. She wrapped him in swaddling clothes, strapped him onto her back and kept walking. They reached Kathmandu just in time to catch the royal couple before they flew off from Kathmandu’s Gauchar airport.’ <figure><img width="640" height="472" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121152/636ce6b99c7e80680e096781jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>At their meeting with the royal couple, Prince Philip himself opened the car door and took the baby in his arms. He asked the boy's name. “It's up to our lamas,” Konjo Chumbi replied. The Duke said, “I've got a name for him. Call him Philip - after me.”Konjo and his wife agreed, and Prince Philip went on to appoint himself as the godfather. Thus, Thukten Phillip Sherpa derived his unique name and royal connection, somehow along the way acquiring double ‘l’ in the spelling.As a young man, Thukten spent 15 minutes with his namesake and godfather during their second state visit to Nepal in 1986, talking about his career and asking help to become a pilot. Besides his navy career, the Duke was qualified to fly 59 different aircraft.That came to nothing, but with Sir Ed’s guidance Thukten studied forestry in Switzerland, returning to run the family’s Asian Trekking in Thamel. A distinguished son of his father, Thukten Phillip was one of five Sherpas to attend Sir Edmund Hillary’s funeral in Auckland cathedral, laying white silk khata on the casket in front of the world’s television cameras.Thukten told me this week: “Being a world renowned figure, Prince Philip was a very gentle, soft speaking and positive person. Since 1986 I have not had any opportunity to meet him again. I still have great desire to visit Buckingham Palace and meet some royal family members in my lifetime.”Prince Philip the Duke of Edinburgh visited Nepal twice, from 26 February to 1 March 1961 and almost exactly 25 years later, from 17 to 21 February 1986, both state visits accompanying Queen Elizabeth.When he died on 9 April 2021 in London aged 99, tributes poured in from all corners of the globe to mark his long and much travelled life. “His generation equated service to country as service to values he believed in,” said a royal staffer. “His life reinforced a conviction that the monarchy’s survival is built on and bounded by a commitment to duty.” He completed more than 22,000 royal engagements on his own and accompanied the Queen on all of her overseas tours.His dedication to his role as consort has clearly touched many lives. Ordinary people shared their stories of “My Day with Prince Philip” and “How I Met the Duke”, with repeated refrains remembering his devastating charm, self-assured and friendly demeanour that balanced the beady glare, sharp wit and subversive impatience with protocol.Perhaps his empathy stemmed from a rootless childhood and lonely school years – he used to sign the visitor’s book at country houses with 'of no fixed abode'. Amidst the elaborate trappings of court and in constant support of the Queen, he could be counted on to be down to earth and provide a real royal twinkle.Nepali social media also buzzed with personal memories. Photos of Prince Philip included images of him stepping through the red carpeted Hanuman Dhoka, saluted by 376 elephants on a royal hunt, chatting in the British Embassy, formal portraits, and Nepali youth striving for his Duke of Edinburgh Gold Award scheme. And him binoculared and safari-suited with Prince Gyanendra and <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15828#.YITs2O4za72">Jim Edwards</a> during a visit to <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2015/02/06/chitwan-best-tiger-habitat/">Chitwan National Park</a> which I had snapped during lunch at Tiger Tops in 1986. <figure><img width="640" height="474" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121152/636ce6bb9c7e80680e096782jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>A committed conservationist with a deep interest in nature, <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/champions-of-nepals-conservation-movement/">Philip and Gyanendra were early eco-warriors</a> and <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=8973#.YITrau4za71">colleagues from World Wildlife Fund (WWF),</a> of which the Duke was founder and the first UK president. During that 1986 visit, he broke away from the main royal program to visit South Asia’s first natural world heritage site at Chitwan National Park, and spent a peaceful day amongst the tall grasslands, riverine forests and sal-covered hills of the Tarai jungles.The press corps arrived ahead of him, lining up politely outside the circular stone and thatched golghar as the two Princes strode into camp after a morning safari exploring the undisturbed wildlife of Chitwan. A retinue of rangers, park staff and security detail followed at a discreet distance.A chorus of “Good morning, Sir” greeted the Duke as he passed the assembled journalists, their cameras clicking. “It was, until you lot arrived!” I heard him growl out of the side of his mouth, living up to his reputation for irascible one-liners. He was shorter than I expected, but with fine craggy features.Lists of his best gaffes circulate the internet. My favourite are: "I declare this thing open, whatever it is" (on a visit to Canada in 1969). And "Yak, yak, yak; come on get a move on" (shouted from the deck of Britannia in Belize in 1994 to the Queen who was chatting to her hosts on the quayside).At <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/So-far-so-good/back-to-Chitwan,1075">Tiger Tops</a> he was gracious to us underlings, but there was some garbled and not very politically correct discussion about catching “some ghastly disease” from monkeys; AIDS was the epidemic of the era. At the British Embassy reception in Kathmandu the next day he was enjoying the locals so much that he failed to join the Ambassador’s group photo, to the Queen’s resigned irritation.A tribe in the remote Pacific island of Vanuatu reveres Prince Philip as the reincarnation of an ancient warrior god, greeting his death with ritual wailing and ceremonial dancing. But perhaps his most unusual story is that of Thukten Phillip Sherpa, the godson he acquired in Nepal during his first visit in 1961.That encounter followed the infamous royal hunt as the guest of King Mahendra in the lavish Meghauli camp in which the Duke diplomatically bandaged his trigger finger so as not to have to shoot any rhinos or tigers – hunters were evolving into <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/So-far-so-good/one-day-of-life-in-the-jungle-chitwan,1005">conservationists.</a> Photos show the shooting party perched in elaborate basketwork elephant howdahs engraved with regal crests, which can still be found gathering dust in the Bhimphedi hatisar. <figure><img width="640" height="501" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121152/636ce6bf9c7e80680e096783jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Last weekend, Prince Philip’s flag-shrouded coffin topped with white lilies made its melancholy way through the bright spring sunshine of Windsor Castle, through socially distanced massed bands with drums muffled in respect, escorted by bowed heads, brilliant uniforms, clinking medals and black armbands, past his faithful fell ponies with his tweed cap and whip lying poignantly on the carriage’s empty seat.Sombre black coated family members followed on foot behind the Land Rover hearse, some of their lives in various states of disarray and disgrace. He was piped by naval cadets up the stone steps into the magnificence of St George’s Chapel where the Queen, his companion of 73 years, waited alone and mourning masked in the empty polished pews. During the funeral gun salutes echoed and bells tolled throughout the land, and Britain marked the Duke’s passing with a one-minute national silence at exactly 3pm.Thukten Philip is weathering the Covid-19 pandemic with his son in Sonoma, the heart of California’s wine country. “In 1961, my parents got a picture of Her Majesty the Queen and Prince Philip duly signed hanging in our private chapel in Khumjung, but now I can't find it for a long time back. I am proud of being his godchild, and he had given me his name Phillip when I was only five days old.”  <figure><img width="640" height="480" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121152/636ce6c19c7e80680e096784jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img width="640" height="425" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121152/636ce6c59c7e80680e096785jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><figure><img width="640" height="438" src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221110121152/636ce6c89c7e80680e096786jpeg.jpg" alt=""><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-elephant-dilemma/">The Elephant Dilemma</a>, Lisa Choegyal

Lisa Choegyal

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How Thukten Phillip Sherpa got his name

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811118/636a2ac69c7e80680e045936jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="472"/><figcaption>Boris and Inger Lisanevitch at Kathmandu Airport in 1962.</figcaption></figure>The early foreign investors in Nepal may have been an eccentric and colourful bunch, but they did understand international tourism. As guests in this country, they realised that nurturing Nepali people, their culture and natural environment was both good for them and for their business. They left a legacy that still resonates in a very different tourism world today.<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/So-far-so-good/join-us-on-land-boris,869">Boris Lisanevitch</a> converted a royal palace into a heritage hotel and introduced fancy foreign food and liquor. <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Jim-Danisch-and-Barbara-Adams%20-passed-away-this-month,3007">Barbara Adams</a> promoted world heritage sites and princely visits. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/hiking-with-jimmy/">Col Jimmy Roberts</a> (pictured below, right) invented trekking and supported mountaineering to employ Sherpas and share the mountains that he loved. John Coapman, <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=15828#.XJRbyMkza71">Jim Edwards</a> and <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Charles-McDougal-passes-away-at-86,3034">Chuck McDougal</a> brought global attention to Chitwan’s wildlife with the creation of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/So-far-so-good/fire-in-the-afternoon-tiger-tops,846">Tiger Tops Jungle Lodge</a>.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811118/636a2ac89c7e80680e045937jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="211" height="182">Conveniently coinciding with their personal business interests, these resourceful pioneers knew a thing or two about what was needed to attract high paying visitors to adventure amidst Nepal’s natural and cultural wonders.In those days it was not so easy, but with imagination and resolve the rich and famous were lured to the remote and mysterious Hindu kingdom, and tourist dollars started seeping into the economy. Boris’ eclectic guests included Queen Sophia of Spain, Agatha Christie, Ingmar Bergman and Jean Paul Belmondo, and ordinary tourists followed. Air travel was ponderous, roads were scarce and communications were basic -– we relied on telex, telegrams and an unreliable crackly telephone line for reservations when I first arrived in 1974.Despite all that, Nepal became a fashionable, sought after spot for American and European vacationers. Often staying weeks and returning annually, most of our Mountain Travel trekkers headed to the hills for seldom less than 14 days and often for a month at a time. Tiger Tops did not accept guests for less than three nights, and the price of $300 per person (yes, US$600 per room) included all meals and jungle activities, but not drinks from the bar. It must have been one of the higher room rates in 1970s Asia, especially as we lay deep in the forest constructed of local wood, bamboo and thatch.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811118/636a2ac99c7e80680e045938jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="523" height="740">Solar electricity came later, but the naturalist-guided Chitwan excursions with elephants, rhinos and tigers was considered a ‘must do’ component of South Asian tourism.Our mainstream business at the lodge in Chitwan was around-the-world US groups, mostly blue-rinse ladies spending their husband’s inheritance accompanied by competent, world-weary tour guides. In my guest relations role, I grew used to answering the same questions nightly but, if I was lucky, all the tables were filled and I got to eat on the bench by the elephant tusk bar with Chuck and the Nepali naturalists.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811118/636a2acb9c7e80680e045939png.png" alt="" width="733" height="732"><a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2012/11/07/han-suyin-took-nepal-to-the-world/">Celebrities</a> and superstars were regular visitors, enjoying their privacy in the undisturbed mountains and jungles of Nepal, and enthusiastic media coverage further established Nepal as the adventure of choice. Actors, writers, mountaineers, politicians and royalty flocked to sample Nepal’s unique diversity and sublime scenery.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811118/636a2acd9c7e80680e04593ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="768" height="948"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>At the other end of the spectrum, the era’s <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/So-far-so-good/the-hippie-era-in-kathmandu,837">flower-power hippies</a> gravitated to Freak Street and Phewa Tal seeking spiritual enlightenment in clouds of legally available ganja whilst haggling over the price of omelettes and apple pie. Forerunners of today’s budget backpackers, hippies played a significant role in publicising Nepal’s tourism image, until their visas evaporated prior to King Birendra’s coronation in 1975.A healthy holiday destination delivers to a variety of different types of tourists, from the cheap world-travellers willing to rough it, to high paying clients cossetted in luxury, with domestic visitors an important part of the mix. Since the insurgency knocked international tourism down to half its normal volume, Nepal has struggled to regain its reputation as a quality destination, or to develop new ‘authentic experiential’ hip trips to appeal to high spenders and trendy millenials.Tourism recovery since the 2015 earthquakes has been impressive in term of numbers, but our 1.2 million arrivals last year are mainly from cost-conscious neighbours and regional visitors who prefer the same parts of the country as were popular when I first arrived: Kathmandu, Pokhara, Chitwan, Lumbini, Annapurna and Sagarmatha.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/2022110811118/636a2acf9c7e80680e04593bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1499" height="1049"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The innate hospitality of the Himalayan people of Nepal is well suited to looking after guests, but uncontrolled tourism will become resented by locals who already complain that hordes of budget travellers and pilgrims leave little but trash.<a href="https://www.welcomenepal.com/">Visit Nepal Year 2020</a> is looming and the emphasis is on the number of arrivals rather than their ability to contribute cash. We have more and more tourists coming every year, but spending less and less during their stay. To redress this balance, we need to lure back the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Tiger-tops-and-high-value-tourism,1087">high value</a> markets by improving the array and quality of services, and developing some persuasive experiences branching out beyond the same old circuits.The <a href="https://investmentsummitnepal.com/">Nepal Investment Summit</a> is an opportunity to inspire courageous and innovative investors from both home and abroad, reassuring potential promoters that Nepal’s rich resources are ripe for responsible tourism development and that the country’s investment climate is conducive.Perhaps we should allow the original investors to have the last word. “After a few hours I fell madly in love with this country,” Boris declared in a 1961 interview.“I’d rather handle half as many tourists with each spending twice as much,” was Jim Edwards’ mantra. And Jimmy Roberts used to rue: “Why are we selling our beautiful mountains so cheap?”

Early investors didn’t sell Nepal short

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>

Nepal’s historic youth dissensus

What does a journalist do when young protesters are shot in front of her? Does she do her job and stay neutral? Can you stay neutral?&nbsp; As protests engulfed Kathmandu, Nepal's journalists found themselves reporting a story that was personal. While doing their job, some of them were even targeted by mobs.&nbsp; Dart Asia Pacific Fellow <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/arunkarki/" target="_blank">Arun Karki</a> visited their newsrooms and spoke with his colleagues on their experience of reporting the GenZ protests that erupted on 8 September. These are the first-hand accounts of journalists who witnessed the turmoil in the city they call home. Sunita Karki was at a workshop in a hotel on 8 September. She saw the first waves of protests through hotel windows. Curfew alerts flooded her phone, a vehicle belonging to a human rights group sat burning across the road, young boys were taking their wounded friends on motorbikes to the Everest Hospital, and police were beating a teenager with hands raised up.&nbsp; “I cried a lot,” she said, but the tears were not out of fear -- they were because she felt guilt. “I couldn’t write the news. We were witnessing these scenes from a five-star hotel.” By evening, the death toll had reached 19. On 9 September at about 3:35 p.m. &nbsp;her outlet, the Annapurna Post's office in Tinkune, Kathmandu, was set on fire. Staff had to leave the building as parts of the newsroom burnt down.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250924040948_e1cc49c9e4fcc4bd4cd3c0163c782fc4e9956bf633cff7b53a63cf8e2dd74cff.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250924040948_e1cc49c9e4fcc4bd4cd3c0163c782fc4e9956bf633cff7b53a63cf8e2dd74cff" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Dart Centre Asia Pacific"> </figure>  When she knew her office was burning, she anxiously told her husband that she would resign from the job: "If we have to hide our identification cards in every protest, what kind of journalist am I?" she asked herself. She filed a story the next day, but her emotions kept bouncing between that of a journalist’s duty and shock. She said that in moments like this, it’s hard to feel truly neutral. After watching the police beat people, she felt a strong urge to step in, not just stand back and report. The first real calm came later, when people came to the street and lit small candles together. “This was a sort of victory procession. I felt some relief after brutal days,” she said. <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/angaddhakal/" target="_blank">Angad Dhakal</a> a photojournalist who works at Kantipur National Daily, was standing outside his office building when protesters stormed in and set parts of it on fire. He had already been informed that protesters were planning to torch his office building and &nbsp;rushed to his office hoping to save his hard drives containing ten years of photography work. He failed. He raised his camera and "forcefully" pressed the shutter - more to document the scene than out of "professional enthusiasm or duty".&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250924040948_ebafaacb85c4ea045c41f2c63f1eff06fee9a4ddb5fbf419724e1a5d533781fa.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250924040948_ebafaacb85c4ea045c41f2c63f1eff06fee9a4ddb5fbf419724e1a5d533781fa" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="It is hard to feel neutral NT"> <figcaption>Photo: GAURAV POKHAREL</figcaption> </figure>  “My office was burning. What should I photograph?” he recalled. A few moments later, a protester noticed the “PHOTO” label on his yellow Press jacket. Dhakal deflected it by saying he was an early career freelancer and YouTuber. So that protesters wouldn't find out, he went to one corner and took his jacket off. When it comes to covering street protests, &nbsp;Angad usually stands near the police because it feels safer. But on 8 September, fire and gunshots made even that area unsafe. A rubber bullet hit his friend Dipendra Dhungana that badly injured him.&nbsp; He thought, “Where do we go now? If we stay here, we’ll be hit.” After witnessing two days of protests, violence, and killings, and seeing his own office burning, he couldn't sleep for days. The same afternoon that government buildings burned and Kantipur was attacked, a message in a protest Discord forum talked openly of 'attacking Kantipur'.&nbsp; Rumours spread to other outlets. Outside OnlineKhabar's office, where <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/article/edit/7376157229248528384/?author=urn%3Ali%3Afsd_company%3A79132377#" target="_blank">Gaurav Pokharel</a> works, the newsroom manager saw “very suspicious people were walking around”. They lowered blinds, avoided windows, locked the front gate and dispersed staff to other places across the city. The outlet was threatened and effectively locked down, but not torched. Pokharel hid his press ID. “ I never showed the ID card. Sometimes I had to enter the crowd shouting slogans, just to blend in among the protesters,” he said. He watched people fall under gunfire, he helped pull one surrounded journalist out of a hostile crowd.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250924040948_3b335eee57280373cb51f460534ca4476df23f89c787ba9e4a66d116a537b1a3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250924040948_3b335eee57280373cb51f460534ca4476df23f89c787ba9e4a66d116a537b1a3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="It is hard to feel neutral NT"> <figcaption>Photo: GAURAV POKHAREL</figcaption> </figure>  As a freelancer, Gaurav also contributed articles for international outlets. Later, while transcribing an interview of a young protest organiser, he wrote to his editor at an international outlet : “This was very hard to write. I cried many times while doing it.” He had been working at a stretch for days battling bouts of exhaustion and low blood pressure.&nbsp; Protesters vandalised and set fire within the Singha Darbar complex housing Nepal Television and Radio Nepal. They tried to disrupt public broadcasting.&nbsp; Surendra Paudyal began the day with his press ID hanging on his neck, thinking it would let him move freely. But when he reached Singha Darbar around 3:30PM, the situation felt dangerous.&nbsp; He put the ID in his pocket. When asked what mattered most, he answered without pause: life comes first. In that moment, he felt real fear and a strong duty to protect his team.&nbsp; His focus narrowed to basic things: stay calm, find exits, get everyone out safely. Later, they were able to keep the 8 pm news on air through a regional link. He felt mixed emotions and a sense of relief that the broadcast continued, but also sadness and anger that their own studio had come under attack. Reprinted with permission from the Dart Centre Asia Pacific, a regional hub that provides trauma-informed support and advice to journalists.

"It is hard to feel neutral"

Harry Jackson was on an epic adventure ‘from Thailand to the UK on 2 wheels’ when he ran into the ultimate sidequest. Having just visited Zangla in Ladakh, Jackson had only landed in Kathmandu when he found himself in the middle of GenZ protests earlier this month. ‘<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Slq6zWu9o9w">Arriving in Nepal - Chaos, Protest &amp; Curfews</a>’ is the title of his first video (<a href="https://www.youtube.com/@wehatethecold/videos">wehatethecold on YouTube</a>) about the protest. He shoots police as they shoot at protesters outside Parliament. Jackson is riding a Honda CT125, a retro lightweight motorbike with off-road capabilities. Strapped to the bike is his sparse luggage, flute, and a faded Union Jack. People are rioting on the streets and there is a heavy armed police presence as he makes his way to his hostel in Thamel. His vlog the day after on 9 September has 29 million views. In ‘<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IyxSqeFrlp0">The side of Nepal the media won’t show you</a>’, Jackson rides his bike straight at the crowd just past the Parliament building into Old Baneswar.&nbsp; He parks it and walks among the protestors, documenting it all: from the police firing capsules of tear gas into the crowd to the burning Parliament building as well as the jubilant, victorious crowd in the premises as they destroy police vehicles and dance. “I’m shocked at the scenes I’ve witnessed here today. I have truly witnessed history on a stupid trip from Thailand to England on a f***ing moped!” exclaims Jackson as he leaves the scene for the day, heading back to his hostel to edit the footage. The hostel is in direct contrast to the raucous scenes of the protest, as tourists and Nepalis sit and lounge at tables. ‘KUIRE VLOGGER’ Nepalis quickly called him the ‘kuire vlogger’, and attribute his skin colour to his popularity. Objectively, the videos are well made. Jackson goes full gonzo journalist, putting himself right in the heart of the action, talking directly to the people, all while narrating the events as they unfold. Despite being cut together in an entertaining way, the footage retains a raw, unpolished quality that outdoes what most professional journalists with a heavy duty camera crew could do. At a time when legacy media has been seen to be pushing biased narratives, Jackson wants to see for himself what happened, and make up his own mind.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250925120956_f7141e06c72655502fc4b2e56120d084b0f5ae111078d66df4fd0415adf8d376.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250925120956_f7141e06c72655502fc4b2e56120d084b0f5ae111078d66df4fd0415adf8d376" data-rendition-name="original" width="2880" height="1604" loading="lazy" alt="WehateTheCold"> </figure>  This kind of video journalism takes a lot of skill and a certain personality. Many people, almost everybody, had their phones out at the protests, but only a handful were like Jackson. He interviewed people firsthand, edited the clips and uploaded them the same day. Jackson continued his vlogging over the next few days as the curfew was first put in place and then lifted. He explores the city as the Valley rebounds. By this time, Nepalis recognise him everywhere he goes. Jackson had achieved moderate fame as a 23-year old DJ in Birmingham, but what he has done in Nepal is something else. Almost everyone he talks to has already seen his vlog, and they are all eager to interact. He has been on multiple podcasts in Nepal too, and most videos online on the protests reference his vlogs. Before his Nepal blogs, Jackson had a modest 16k subcribers on YouTube, but after Nepal figure is now almost 700k, gaining over 100k each through 11-13 September. Most of them are Nepali viewers. “I’m just a regular dude who just did what he wanted to do,” says Jackson on a podcast. “I wanted to go on an adventure, learn about history, and learn languages. And I wanted to film it, document it, and have a wicked film for my life to show future generations.” &nbsp;

The accidental journalist

Nepal is still reeling from the short but violent GenZ moment, and the reverberations are being felt around the world.&nbsp;
As news from the killings and rampage from Nepal on 8-9 September spread through the wire services and social media, in the Philippines, East Timor and even faraway Peru, banners on the streets last week referred to ‘learning lessons from Nepal’. In Ladakh last week, <a href="https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2025/9/25/bloodiest-day-how-gen-z-protest-wave-hit-indias-ladakh-killing-four">protesters set fire to the ruling BJP party office</a> and four people were killed in police firing.&nbsp;
Nepal’s GenZ was praised by <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2025/09/19/opinion/asia-protest-youth-nepal-bangladesh.html">international commentators</a> for rising up against chronic corruption and impunity, and for achieving the fastest regime change in history. But the youth were also blamed for the arson and vandalism even though the groups said they had no part in it — most &nbsp;foreign media also did not highlight enough the infiltration by radical groups.
“We were not expecting the protests to turn so violent and deadly. On the second day, things escalated so quickly it became difficult to keep track. We were rushing on the groud and making calls to confirm what was happening,” recalls Paavan Mathema of Agence France-Presse (AFP) in Nepal.
The GenZ protest this month was a lesson on the mechanics of social media. Hashtags like #youthagainstcorruption and #nepobaby from Indonesia inspired Nepal’s youth to take to the streets, but events here in turn triggered protests elsewhere. The international news agencies and mainstream global tv channels were not as important in this information cross-pollination.
The movement was organised online and spread quickly in no time, but it was disinformation and fake news that spread faster than facts. The over-simplification by international media was because it had to explain 30 years of political evolution in a country that they mostly ignored in the past, this sometimes tended to be misleading.&nbsp;
While the Oli government’s social media ban of 26 platforms starting 5 September poured oil on the fire that had already been lit by a disparate group of desperate youth, their outrage over decades of corruption and impunity was reaching a breaking point. There was extreme disenchantment with serial politicians recycling themselves in power.&nbsp;
“The ban on social media definitely triggered the protest, but we put a high priority on accuracy and speed during reporting in such times,” explains the Nepal correspondent for Associated Press (AP) news agency in Nepal Binaj Gurubacharya. “Our own safety also becomes a prime concern in times like these, but should not be at an expense of accuracy.”
CRISIS REPORTING
But headlines everywhere including in The New York Times, The Guardian and others that used wire service content initially highlighted the social media ban as the main reason for the protest. They were soon called out by protesters, while <a href="https://institute.aljazeera.net/en/ajr/article/3358" target="_blank">Al Jazeera</a> and its <a href="https://institute.aljazeera.net/en" target="_blank">Media Institute </a>were applauded for more nuanced coverage.
Another positive example of international media supplementing the stories by local journalists was <a href="https://www.france24.com/en/" target="_blank">France 24’</a>s detailed <a href="https://www.france24.com/en/asia-pacific/20250915-nepal-police-protests-violence-kathmandu" target="_blank">forensic analysis</a> of the security forces firing live ammunition at protesters at Parliament on 8 September.&nbsp;
What really went far and wide around the world were dramatic YouTube videos about the violence, and memes on social media. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-accidental-journalist" target="_blank">A British tourist</a> who filmed street protests did the work of an on-the-ground journalist and got millions of views globally for some of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Slq6zWu9o9w" target="_blank">his YouTube videos</a>.&nbsp;
But some of the misinformation or fake news on social media was also picked up by the mainstream press, like the <a href="https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/world/south-asia/nepal-violence-ex-pm-khanals-wife-dies-after-house-torched-president-urges-calm-dialogue/articleshow/123791004.cms">wrongly reported death of former Prime Minister Jhalanath Khanal’s wife</a> in an arson attack on their home. A video of the Finance Minister Bishnu Poudel being <a href="https://www.ndtv.com/world-news/video-nepal-finance-minister-chased-through-street-kicked-attacked-9243749">chased and beaten</a> by protesters also turned out to be someone else.&nbsp;
Some international outlets, mainly in India, also fell prey to a fake video that K P Oli had fled to Dubai. Even this newspaper’s online edition had to correct it after wrongly reporting it without verification.&nbsp;
Indian tv channels which did &nbsp;extensive coverage of events in Nepal, with many Nepalis relying on them and believing their content — especially during the protests when Nepal’s main channels went off air as they were being attacked.
All this got out of hand, and protesters in the week after the violence started ridiculing and harassing Indian tv correspondents as they tried to interview talking heads outside the charred Parliament building, or on the streets.
<a href="https://www.newslaundry.com/2025/09/09/foreign-hand-gen-z-data-addiction-5-ways-indian-media-missed-the-nepal-story">Indian media</a> were also the first to accuse US involvement in sparking a ‘colour revolution’ in Nepal. They later claimed that former Nepal Electricity Authority (NEA) chief and now Energy Minister Kulman Ghising and even Kathmandu Mayor Balen Shah have been appointed interim prime minister in Nepal. These were rumours in Nepal, but were reported as news.&nbsp;
“Fact checking is crucial while covering such movements, and since we are telling an important story about Nepal to the world, double checking becomes important as it sets the international narrative,” says Mathema. “We were constantly double checking with concerned authorities as so much misinformation was being spread.”
“We were constantly double checking numbers and information with concerned authorities and parties to make sure we were accurate, especially as misinformation was rampant,” she adds.
Apart from Indian media, international news agencies got reinforcements of reporters, photojournalists and editors from the region, and other foreign correspondents also flew in when Kathmandu airport was opened after 48 hours.
Adds Mathema: “Sometimes foreign reporters can give a fresh perspective or an angle which we could not see or cover. So their inputs are always helpful.”
In the aftermath of the violence, there were plenty of jokes and memes, clips of protesters dancing, in weird poses and performing martial arts, showcasing the light hearted side of the protests while also <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-meme-revolution">reaffirming the resilience</a> of people able to bounce back from something so traumatic.
The GenZ clean-up campaigns, neighbourhoods helping restore burnt out police stations and local people’s emotional reaction to the burnt out hulks of government buildings at the city centre also <a href="https://www.scmp.com/week-asia/people/article/3325635/nepals-gen-z-protesters-lead-clean-campaign-after-violent-clashes">made news</a>.
“After the protests, people were quick to gather and clean up public spaces and paint police stations. This is a scene which may not be so common in other countries with similar violence,” adds Gurubacharya. “So it became an important story to also tell the world.”&nbsp;
In less than two days, the world saw a dramatic toppling of a democratic government. With the interim government led by former chief justice Sushila Karki, there is much hope. She has expanded her ministerial cabinet, and the election has been announced for 5 March 2026 but between then and now, a lot remains uncertain.&nbsp;
And Nepal will continue to be watched by national and international media alike until then and after. AP’s Gurubacharya sums it up: “For now, we are taking it one day at a time.”

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