
The so-called Gen Z
movement of Nepal was an unprecedented event in the recent political history of
Nepal. In the 27 hours' worth of reactions, more than six dozen people were
killed, and state structures of symbolic and practical importance like Singha
Durbar, Federal Parliament building, Supreme Court, Shital Niwas (the
Presidential palace), various police stations, private residences, and business
houses were reduced to ashes. This tide of destruction brought about the fall
of the ruling government, dissolution of parliament, and the rise of a new
political order. The state's coercive apparatus was apparently immobile: the
police avoided duty, and the national army was non-mobilized until after the
escalation had occurred. The Chief of the Army Staff addressed the nation for
the first time in Nepal's modern political history with the backdrop of King
Prithvi Narayan Shah's portrait. Thereafter, talks with leaders of the Gen Z
movement were carried out at the army headquarters, showing the irretrievable
intervention of the military in politics.
The then Prime Minister
tendered his resignation in this atmosphere of bewilderment, which was formally
accepted by the President. But the resignation was conditional on a
presidential letter allowing the Prime Minister to remain in office until the
formation of the new government. Meanwhile, the Prime Minister and the cabinet
members were protected by the national army. Political violence meanwhile
became more intense: former Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba and his wife, Dr.
Arju Rana Deuba—recently reinstated as Foreign Minister—were physically
attacked. These measures were implemented in a sudden order which was broadcast
live, creating an atmosphere of fear and political uncertainty. For the first
time ever, the former Chief Justice Sushila Karki was appointed Prime Minister
and, together with the army, declared a general curfew nationwide.
Regional concern was also
raised about the crisis. Security troops in a neighboring country publicly declared
readiness to act on invitation, while the Nepalese military commanders put down
a condition that helicopter evacuation of the Prime Minister would take place
only after his resignation had been authenticated. The talks were then shifted
to Shital Niwas under tight military surveillance, where leaders of parties
congregated as representatives under the army's observation. The military chief
explicitly threatened that if the political leadership failed to agree on a
combined plan, the military would pull out, and the weakness of state power
would be exposed.
Party leaders, isolated
from communication in strict isolation for ten days, viewed constitutional
violations, dissolution of parliament, and mounting rumors on the restoration
of the monarchy. Three policy documents were submitted to the Maoist party's
central committee here. These documents surprisingly did not mention anything
about the Gen Z movement or the emerging political realities on the ground.
Traditional analyses of the "national" and "international
situation" were absent. The central committee's two-day meeting concluded
without resolving the structural rupture in the polity, and the dialogue turned
into intra-party rivalries in the leadership among Prachanda, Prakash, and
Prabhakar. Rather than being a substance-based debate, the debate turned into a rhetorical apotheosis of Prachanda and demonization of his rivals. Critical
analysis and dialectical exchange, which were long claimed as necessary Maoist
political precepts, were missing.
As the designated minute
recorder of the meeting, I refrained from joining the debate. Analytically, the
three papers were deficient and disconnected from realities on the ground. They
lacked a definite judgment regarding the national and international
environment, the strategic direction of the party as dictated by the party, and
the key tasks intended to lead the country out of the crisis. This quietness
was symptomatic not just of timidity among the party leaders but also of a
deeper incapacity—or lack of will—to confront the situation before them.
The government formed by
the alliance of UML and Congress had been formed constitutionally under Article
76(2) of the Constitution of Nepal. However, when the Prime Minister so
appointed failed to get a vote of confidence, the constitutional provision for
appointing the leader of the largest party in parliament under Article 76(3)
was forgotten. Instead, through coercive means—associated with threats against
the judiciary and the President—another government was installed under Article
76(2). Judicial checks were made useless, as writ petitions were denied without
following the procedure, and expulsions within the ruling party were not
acknowledged by the Election Commission. This political engineering, initially
aimed at toppling Prachanda's leadership and advancing Sher Bahadur Deuba,
ultimately helped to clear the way for KP Sharma Oli to gain more dominance.
Oli’s alignment with U.S.
strategic interests—particularly his commitment to securing parliamentary
approval of the Millennium Challenge Corporation (MCC) compact—contrasted
sharply with India’s declining influence over him. His dissolution of parliament
on two occasions, despite constitutional prohibitions, was tolerated due to his
perceived value to Washington. Meanwhile, institutional checks were undermined:
the President blocked parliamentary interventions, and the Chief Election
Commissioner shielded Oli from party disciplinary measures.
Geopolitical balancing
act heightened as Oli worked to navigate the external pressures. Steer clear of
attending China's Independence Day celebrations initially to accommodate the
West was followed by endorsement of Beijing's Global Security Initiative (GSI)
later, which outraged Washington and New Delhi. Subsequently, Oli reignited
Kalapani and Lipulekh border conflicts. This complex geopolitical balancing
act—combined with internal institutional paralysis—created a situation where
external powers could exploit Nepal's vulnerabilities. The Gen Z movement,
although nominally cast in the guise of a protest against corruption and
censorship of the social media, appears to have been employed to cause
political unrest and portray Nepal in the state of failure.
The complacency of
democratic players and constitutional guardians in the face of such events is
conspicuous. In environments where scores of legal cases are usually lodged
against parliament dissolution, no meaningful judicial response has been
forthcoming. Judges freed from military detention are still tainted, and civil
society has avoided organizing resistance.
Regionally, the crisis
fits into larger experiments by transnational "deep state" forces to
reconfigure South Asian governance. Similar developments have also been
observed in Bangladesh and Sri Lanka, mimicking experiments that were
previously tried in Eastern Europe. What is playing out in Nepal, therefore, is
not an isolated local political crisis but rather as part of a global struggle
over democratic norms. The ideology of democracy being followed under the
leadership of Donald Trump in the United States—populist destabilization and
institution undermining—is now taking shape in Nepal as well.
Against this drastic
external backdrop, the internal deliberations of the Maoist party appear all
the more anachronistic. While the world around them is transforming in its very
foundations, their central committee meetings echo debate from two decades ago.
The disjuncture between external structural transformation and internal
political debate serves to underscore the decay of Nepal's political class and
the degeneration of substantive critique within parties.