IF YOU LOOK at Nepal’s contemporary history, it has always been a history of great struggle. In the early decades, the fight was for political emancipation—from the autocratic Rana family rule, and later from the party-less panchayat system introduced by King Mahendra. The Jana Andolans reflected the people’s struggle for multi-party democracy. They wanted not an autocratic monarch, but a constitutional monarchy.
Then came a wave of struggles—for inclusion, for representation, for a system where Nepal’s diverse communities had a share in power and resources. That was the story of the Maoist insurgency. That was the struggle of the Madheshis. And it was through these movements that the monarchy itself was jettisoned and Nepal became a republic.
Out of these long and often violent struggles came the promise of a new constitution—that would be progressive, inclusive, republican and democratic. That was the hope of the 2015 constitution. For the first time, the Nepalese felt that they had written their own constitution, that sovereignty truly lay with the people.
The expectation was that this new system would deliver stability and prosperity, that it would move Nepal rapidly from a least developed country to a developing one. Those dividends never really came.
After the initial euphoria of the 1990s, the Maoist insurgency, Madheshi agitations and political instability slowed economic growth. Jobs did not materialise, and today, nearly a third of Nepal’s working population seeks employment abroad—mostly in difficult, low-paying sectors like construction.
Even after 2015, governments changed frequently. But what remained constant was the sense that political leaders had become corrupt. A small group of leaders kept rotating power among themselves. Corruption was rampant, and there were no meaningful investigations. Many believe that the recent coalition of K.P. Sharma Oli and Sher Bahadur Deuba came together only to shield themselves from probes. This fed a deep resentment, particularly among younger people, who also watched politicians’ children flaunting flashy lifestyles.
The immediate trigger was the decision to ban social media apps. In today’s world, life and livelihoods revolve around these platforms. Instead of regulating tech giants through law, the government banned apps outright. That was seen as a foolhardy move and it brought Gen Z on to the streets.
Initially, the protests were peaceful. But the government mishandled them, and when many youngsters were killed, the anger boiled over.
Clearly, this was not just students. Other elements also joined, taking advantage of the unrest. Still, the scale of public anger against politicians was unmistakable.
By the time the army stepped in, it was too late. Oli’s resignation came after the violence had already left its mark. Now the army and the president are trying to restore order and engaging with protesters to discuss the way forward, including the formation of an interim government.
But there is a danger here. The 2015 constitution is a sensitive compromise among many forces. Reopening it could bring back old debates over monarchy, inclusion and federalism—fault lines that were supposed to have been settled.
For India, Nepal’s crisis is not a distant event. The relationship is unique—open borders, close cultural ties and deep historical connections. Instability in Nepal makes it vulnerable to outside influences, which in turn affects India’s security.
India has always supported the aspirations of the Nepalese people—whether it was the movement against Rana rule, the end of the panchayat system, or the peace process with the Maoists. It has always worked with whichever government came to power in Kathmandu, and that will remain the case now.
For now, the priority is to restore security and law and order. The next steps will be to form an interim government and hold elections. But beneath these immediate measures lies a deeper challenge: a younger generation that feels cheated, angry and disillusioned.
This Gen Z movement is not a traditional party-led agitation. It is a faceless uprising of a generation that has lost faith in the political class. Whether it evolves into constructive politics or is hijacked by other forces will decide Nepal’s future.
The 2015 constitution was meant to be the culmination of Nepal’s long struggles. Instead, it now risks becoming another casualty of failed promises.
—As told to Namrata Biji Ahuja
Rae is former Indian ambassador to Nepal.