Who are Nepal’s Gen Z?

When, on 8 September, ‘Gen Z’ packed the streets of the government district in Kathmandu, no more was expected than a larger variation of previous demonstrations against corruption and kleptocracy in Nepal. One of the key complaints was against nepo babies, the children of politicians who flaunt their lavish lifestyles on social media. The government ban on social media a few days earlier had amplified the protest, and secured celebrity endorsements. On 7 September the prime minister, K.P. Oli, had condemned ‘troublemakers’ masquerading as Gen Z.

When the police opened fire on the unarmed demonstrators, killing seventeen, the protest transformed into something different. More than a thousand live rounds were fired, one for every ten protesters; 51 were killed, most of them high-school or college students. Cities and towns across the country erupted the next day, as large crowds, from a wider cross-section of society, took to the streets. They set hundreds of government offices, politicians’ homes and businesses on fire. Nearly fifteen thousand prisoners escaped from jails across the country. Oli resigned, taking refuge – like his cabinet colleagues and other politicians from across the spectrum – in an army barracks.

On paper, the government had looked unassailable. With a two-thirds majority in parliament, it was a grand coalition of the two biggest parties, the liberal Nepali Congress and the Communist Party of Nepal (Unified Marxist-Leninist). For many people, however, the alliance was a clear sign of what’s gone wrong with the political order since the end of the civil war in 2006, the absorption of the Maoist insurgents into the mainstream and the abolition of the monarchy in 2008.

Since 2015, the leaders of three supposedly rival parties – Sher Bahadur Deuba (Congress), K.P. Oli (CPN-UML) and Prachanda (CPN-Maoist Centre) – have taken it in turns to be prime minister two or three times each. The last ten years have been dotted by constitutional crises and corruption scandals of expanding scale, usually created and resolved through backroom deals between the three men. For Nepal’s young population, who came of age during this time, the main political parties appear discredited and indistinguishable from one another.

What has replaced this old guard is harder to describe. On 12 September, with the prodding of the military and the non-executive president, members of an online group named ‘Youths Against Corruption’ chose a new government using Discord, an app popular with gamers. Led by Sushila Karki, a retired supreme court judge, a cabinet of technocrats now presides over Nepal’s charred ministries. Its main remit is to hold elections in six months.

Karki’s government derives its authority from an amorphous ‘Gen Z’ – a campaign shorthand that has become a political category of its own. To be sure, most of the protesters on 8 September, and most of those arguing and voting on Discord four days later, would have been born between 1997 and 2012. But the correspondence between the two groups is imperfect. The Gen Z that took to the streets are from a substantial urban underclass, many of them new migrants to the city. The online Gen Z are tech-savvy, largely middle-class and fluent in Reddit memes. Those who took part in the second day of protests – which toppled the government, sent the political class into hiding and ultimately gives ‘Gen Z’ its coercive power – are from a broader demographic still.

This shapeless but powerful group has found a face in a small NGO and its 36-year-old leader. Formed in 2015 to help survivors of the Gorkha earthquake, Hami Nepal has since campaigned against sexual harassment and corruption, while continuing to distribute aid in humanitarian emergencies. Part of its authority comes from its having a foot in both the physical and virtual worlds: the organisation was handing out drinking water during the protests and sharing information on Discord. But part of its success in claiming the Gen Z mantle comes from its founder’s assertive (at times mercurial) personality. Sudan Gurung spoke to the press on 11 September – cracking jokes one moment; with angry tears the next – vowing to go after every corrupt politician.

For the time being, Nepal’s chastised parties and politicians are on the defensive, though the posture may easily change as and when elections near. Calm has returned to the streets, though public demands for investigations into the brutal crackdown and political corruption remain widespread. Independent political forces, including Kathmandu’s mayor, Balen Shah (a former rapper), are looking to deepen their electoral base. Monarchists and Hindu nationalists are on standby, looking to seize on the crisis to make constitutional changes. There are concerns about the military, and their active role in the formation of the interim government. Meanwhile, hundreds of injured protesters face a long recovery.