Nepal’s Turning Point
In early September 2025, Nepal’s government banned 26 major social media platforms, including Facebook, Instagram, and YouTube, claiming that the platforms had failed to comply with new speech and data laws. This act of censorship was widely seen as an attempt to suppress growing online criticism of the country’s political elite, who had been the subject of a viral “#NepoKids” campaign spotlighting allegations of corruption and privilege.
Within days, the streets of Kathmandu were filled with protestors, many of whom belong to Gen Z, demanding systemic reform. What began as outrage over censorship quickly escalated into a broader anti-government movement. Over 50 civilians were killed in clashes with police, the parliament was set on fire, and the Prime Minister resigned. This wasn’t just another protest; it was the collapse of political credibility in real time. The speed and intensity of the response revealed just how fragile the relationship between the Nepali state and its citizens had become.
The trust in their government had already been eroded; the social media ban simply exposed the depth of that disconnect.
But this disillusionment didn’t lead to disengagement; it led to action. On September 12, 2025, the first female interim prime minister was appointed via Discord. The public’s choice to back Sushila Karki as interim Prime Minister was important not just because of who she is, but because of what her appointment represents. Karki is a former Chief Justice with a track record of standing up to political interference and a reputation for integrity. Her past includes pushing back against some of the same elites who were now being called out in the protests. Choosing her was not just a call for leadership; it was a rejection of the status quo.
What makes this moment politically significant is that Karki wasn’t elevated through party politics or electoral campaigning. She was brought forward through public consensus, shaped by both on-the-ground mobilisation and digital coordination. Her appointment reflects a shift away from traditional party structures and toward a new kind of legitimacy, one that is built through public trust, not institutional affiliation. This change also signaled how power is being renegotiated in real time. In Nepal’s case, the people didn’t just remove a leader. They influenced the selection of the next one. That shows a level of political engagement that goes beyond protest. It challenges the idea that political authority must always be handed down from within formal systems. Instead, it shows how quickly authority can be created from outside them when the public decides to act.
On a broader level, this raises questions about the durability of traditional political institutions in a digital age. As trust in parties and parliaments declines globally, examples like Nepal suggest that new pathways to power are forming, pathways where public sentiment, amplified through technology, can shape outcomes directly. That doesn’t mean structure and process are irrelevant. But it does mean they can no longer operate independently of the people they are meant to serve.