Analysis

From Hasina to Oli: Nepal’s digital uprising and a familiar fall

KS Tomar

Former Nepalese prime minister K.P. Sharma Oli now finds himself in a position once occupied by Bangladesh’s Sheikh Hasina — a leader who underestimated the fury of a connected generation. Both believed that choking social media could muzzle dissent. Both assumed that cutting digital lifelines would contain anger. Instead, both triggered leaderless uprisings that rattled the foundations of their rule.

What began as simmering frustration over corruption, inflation, and an unfulfilled post-pandemic recovery erupted after Oli’s administration banned 26 major digital platforms, including Facebook, Instagram, WhatsApp, YouTube, and X. For millions of Nepalis, this blackout struck at the heart of daily life. The reaction was immediate and fierce: at least 22 people have died in subsequent violence, mobs torched the houses of ministers, MPs, and even former prime ministers, and terrified leaders fled their neighbourhoods. The rage did not spare state institutions. Protesters stormed and set fire to the Supreme Court building. Ram Chandra Poudel, the veteran Nepali Congress leader and the country’s third President, resigned after his residence was attacked.

With police forces overwhelmed, the army appealed for restraint. Yet even senior leaders faced mob fury: an ex-prime minister from the Nepali Congress was injured, and cadres from both Oli’s Communist UML and the Congress party became targets.

The protests’ defining characteristic is their lack of central leadership. Gen Z activists, students, and anarchist groups dominate the streets, but no figure exists to negotiate with the government. What started as resistance to a social media ban has quickly broadened into a revolt demanding jobs, accountability, and an end to systemic corruption. Analysts argue that democracy itself is not at risk of collapsing into military rule.

Nepal’s political history is steeped in protest. The 1990 People’s Movement dismantled absolute monarchy. The Jana Andolan of 2006 forced King Gyanendra to retreat. On 8 September 2025, that legacy returned with a digital edge. This time, the spark was not monarchy or constitutional deadlock but the attempt to cut off what young Nepalis see as their lifeline — social media. Authorities defended the blackout by citing the 2023 Social Media Directives and a Supreme Court ruling requiring global platforms to register locally, appoint representatives, and curb harmful content. TikTok and Viber complied; Meta and Google did not. Oli insisted extremists had hijacked the protests, while officials argued they were merely enforcing rules. But citizens saw censorship, not regulation.

In a country where over 90 per cent of internet users rely on these platforms for news, tourism, remittances, and business, the ban felt like suffocation. Already disillusioned by corruption scandals, many viewed this as the final straw. Nepal has endured 14 governments in 16 years. Inflation is eating away at wages. Dynastic privilege dominates politics.

For the young, social media was the only credible public square — and its shutdown silenced their voice. Royalist forces, meanwhile, have resurfaced. A massive pro-monarchy rally earlier this year demonstrated that nostalgia for the crown has not disappeared. Analysts suggest royalist groups infiltrated the current protests, lending them additional force.

The blackout has also worsened economic fragility. Telecom companies lost revenue, tourism recovery stalled, and families dependent on remittances faced fresh uncertainty. India reinforced border security but avoided becoming a scapegoat, unlike in past uprisings. China, enjoying stable ties, also kept its distance. For once, neither neighbour was at the centre of the storm. In this turbulence, a new figure has captured the imagination of young Nepalis: Balendra Shah, or Balen. Elected as Kathmandu’s mayor in 2022, Shah is no ordinary politician — he is a rapper with a master’s degree in structural engineering, admired for his mix of cultural appeal and technocratic efficiency.

For disillusioned urban youth, he symbolises an alternative to the old party system. Whether he can rise as a national force remains uncertain, but his popularity reflects the hunger for fresh, non-partisan leadership.

Nepal’s turmoil offers a 21st-century lesson: shutting down digital spaces is as combustible as curbing the ballot box.

For the country’s youth, digital rights are democratic rights. Ending the blackout may calm the streets temporarily, but the real challenge is deeper — rebuilding trust, restoring accountability, and balancing regulation with freedom.

Unless leaders rise to this challenge, Nepal risks repeating its cycle of protest and repression — this time with battles fought not only in Kathmandu’s streets but also across cyberspace.

The writer is a senior political analyst and Ex Chairperson of the Standing Committee of All-State Public Service Commissions in India