10 September 2025, NIICE Commentary 11675
Dr Suma Singh and Divya Malhotra
From Egypt in 2011 to Nepal in 2025, youth movements have demonstrated that young populations- empowered and frustrated, can overturn regimes and reset political trajectories. In Egypt, the Arab Spring was not born solely of political discontent; it was incubated in a demographic and economic pressure cooker. The 2011 protests of Cairo erupted amid mass frustration over unemployment, corruption, state brutality, and cronyism. However, their immediate trigger was the self-immolation of Mohamed Bouazizi, a street vendor in Tunisia whose death in December 2010 set off a regional chain reaction - proof that a single act in a distant geography could ignite vulnerable youth across borders.
At Tahrir Square, young Egyptians stood as citizen-agents demanding dignity and opportunity. Their mobilization toppled Hosni Mubarak and reshaped Egypt’s political trajectory. From Libya and Syria to Yemen and Bahrain, similar uprisings erupted thereafter, underscoring that the Arab Spring was less a localized revolt than a generational demand for dignity and change. The deeper accelerant, however, was structural exclusion: a demographic explosion colliding with governance failure, amplified by digital tools that turned discontent into mass mobilization. The trigger in ongoing Nepal protests may look different - viral videos of political elites’ children flaunting luxury lifestyles. But the underlying story is strikingly familiar: youth confronting corruption and repression with digital tools that magnify their power.
Nepal’s Gen Z Protests against Corruption and Digital Shutdown
In the weeks leading up to the social media ban, Nepali social media erupted with posts under the hashtag #PoliticiansNepoBabyNepal, showcasing the luxury lifestyles of political elites’ children with images of designer handbags, sports cars, and jet-setting holidays. For a generation already confronting limited prospects, these images became symbols of entrenched corruption and elite impunity. Authorities responded by imposing a sweeping ban on 26 social media platforms, citing concerns about misinformation, fake accounts, and hate speech, and requiring companies to register locally. A few services, including TikTok and Viber, were spared for complying with the new rules.
According to Newsweek, nearly two million Nepalis working overseas rely on these platforms to remit earnings and remain in touch with their families. With remittances contributing almost a quarter of Nepal’s GDP, the ban severed not only a vital social bridge but also a key economic artery, turning a regulatory measure into a direct assault on livelihoods and intensifying public fury. Protesters filled Kathmandu’s streets where the security forces responded with tear gas, rubber bullets, and live ammunition, leaving over 19 protesters dead and hundreds injured. Angry protestors, including some other groups stormed barricades, and set houses of senior political leaders, Supreme Court, Prime Minister’s residence, different ministries, and parts of parliament and Presidential house ablaze, furthering the chaos.
As The Time noted, the protests quickly broadened into calls for Prime Minister K. P. Sharma Oli’s resignation and the creation of an anti-corruption watchdog. BBC reported that slogans like “enough is enough” and “end to corruption” were used by young protestors, while the Sunday Guardian cited placards reading “Shut down corruption and not social media,” “Unban social media,” and “Youths against corruption.” What began as an attempt to curb corruption resulted in the largest wave of civil unrest since Nepal’s 2006 movement to end monarchy. Thus, Nepal’s protests was more than a story about social media, was about the political economy of youth. Over 500,000 young Nepalis enter the labour market annually, yet formal job creation is stagnant, and the youth unemployment rate stood at approximately 20.8 percent in 2024, higher than the global average. For many, migration remains the only option: remittances contribute nearly a quarter of Nepal’s GDP, a symptom of an economy unable to absorb its own talent. Against this backdrop, a ban on digital platforms was not merely meant to silence the online dissent; it was an affront to a generation whose civic, social, and professional identities are intertwined with digital connectivity.
It is equally important to mention that foreign media outlets, while vital for drawing global attention, often offered conflicting narratives, some casting the ban as regulatory housekeeping, others as outright repression. This divergence muddied domestic and regional understanding of what truly fueled the uprising. What is clear is that state repression confronts youthful aspirations at its peril. Egypt’s violent clashes and Nepal’s lethal crackdown underscored the risks regimes incur when they underestimate the mobilizing power of the young. In Cairo, activists used Facebook and Twitter to outmaneuver censors; in Kathmandu, their counterparts turned to TikTok, VPNs, and unbanned apps. In both cases, attempts to restrict digital space backfired, turning platforms into potent symbols of defiance. Nepal’s blackout echoed Mubarak’s drastic decision to cut Nile cables in a futile effort to silence dissent. The irony was not lost on them: efforts to choke digital expression only deepened its political resonance.
The economic and demographic parallels deepen the comparison. In Egypt, youth unemployment rose from 26 percent in 2010 to nearly 38 percent in 2012, a reflection of how kleptocracy betrayed the promise of education. Nepal today faces a similar bind. Formal-sector job growth lags far behind the expanding youth population, per capita income hovers around US$ 1,400 and social inequality is laid bare online. As more videos of “Nepo kids” went viral during the protests, it amplified public anger at entrenched corruption and class divide. Social media thus became not just a mobilizing tool but both a mirror of inequality and a megaphone for resentment.
Why Region should Care?
South Asia has already seen how youthful discontent can boil over into the streets and bring governments to their knees. Colombo in 2022 offered the most recent warning. Sri Lanka’s financial collapse marked by soaring inflation, fuel queues, and shortages of essentials drove tens of thousands of young protesters into the capital. The “Aragalaya” movement, with students and urban youth at its heart, forced the resignation of President Gotabaya Rajapaksa. Dhaka, too, has witnessed waves of student uprisings, most recently in 2024. While scholars may feel tempted to compare Nepal’s unrest to the Arab uprisings, the closer parallels lie in Colombo and Dhaka, which young Nepalis themselves were closely following. For them, the Arab world is distant. But seeing fellow youth oust leaders in Colombo and Dhaka provided a live template for action.
A similar trend is now emerging in the Philippines, particularly in connection with controversial flood-control projects where billions of pesos in public funds have allegedly been misused on so-called “ghost projects.” The children of powerful politicians and affiliated contractors implicated in the scandal are being called out online for flaunting lavish lifestyles believed to be funded by taxpayers’ money. What connects these disparate uprisings across time and region is a central dynamic: youth aspirations are potent, disruptive, and too consequential to ignore. In that sense, Nepal’s streets in 2025 are not an isolated eruption but part of a continuum of Asian youth mobilization against corruption and elite impunity.
South Asia’s youth share common grievances: limited opportunities, corruption, and a widening gulf between elite privilege and everyday struggle. The deeper lessons for the subcontinent lie within its own borders. For India, the implications are profound. India’s demographic profile is even starker than Nepal’s, over 65 percent of its population is under 35. Movements from Cairo to Colombo, from Dhaka to Kathmandu remind us that the political legitimacy of governments in the region increasingly rests on how they engage their youngest citizens.
Divya Malhotra is a Senior Fellow at the Centre for National Security Studies, Bangalore, India. Dr. Suma Singh is Associate Professor and Registrar (Academics) at Mount Carmel College, Bangalore, India.
