Nepal has recently become the center of a narrative often seen in Western media—one that highlights student-led “revolutions” aimed at toppling corrupt governments in developing nations.
This same storyline was used to frame the August 2024 removal of Sheikh Hasina, Bangladesh’s “Iron Lady,” amidst rising oppression and Islamist violence. Just a few weeks of crisis in Indonesia, if its government falters, could similarly be depicted as another “people’s revolution.”
Such overly simplified narratives often excuse violence, including attacks on state institutions, while disregarding the complex issues of terrorism, economic hardship, and opportunism that truly underlie these upheavals. What might be portrayed as heroic in the West could instead create lasting challenges for the nations experiencing this turmoil.
An assertion by former Supreme Court Justice in Nepal, Sushila Karki, seems to have been rebranded by Western outlets as an “anti-corruption campaign.” The truth is more complicated; Karki, linked to the 1973 hijacking of a Nepalese passenger plane carrying substantial amounts of money, now leads an interim government that operates without constitutional backing.
This purported revolution has left key national institutions struggling. Many significant organizations, including the Congress party and the Supreme Court, are suffering from arson attacks and the destruction of official records. In Nepal’s capital, Kathmandu, numerous businesses and homes have been targeted, adding up to billions in losses. Tragedies have struck even within the police force, with reports of officers facing violent attacks.
This situation isn’t democracy at work but rather an instance of nihilistic violence misrepresented as revolution. A noted social activist recently remarked to the demonstrators amidst the devastation, “You’ve burned this country,” highlighting the profound challenges ahead for restoring governance.
The unrest was initially sparked by the government’s ban on 26 social media platforms, a decision affecting many who rely on these services for communication and income through foreign remittances. This ban threw a wrench into vital family connections and economic channels, igniting public outrage.
Protests began on September 9, primarily among young people, until a lethal incident involving police escalated tensions. Chaos ensued the following day, driven by a lack of clear leadership.
Mobs then targeted symbols of authority, vandalizing and raiding numerous businesses and properties. Some even resorted to stealing arms, posing further threats to security.
Through media portrayals, what has unfolded has been framed as a “student-led” anti-corruption movement, overshadowing the real catalyst: the social media ban. To portray this unrest as a manifestation of “people’s power” conflates disorder with democratic progress.
Though this anger led to the downfall of Marxist Prime Minister Sharma Oli’s government, it masks a deeper, chronic instability that has marred Nepal since its transition to a federal Democratic Republic in 2008, during which there have been 15 government changes in just 17 years, with Kalki leading the latest establishment.
The consequences of this turmoil are dire. Institutional frameworks are crumbling, law and order is compromised, and the interim government struggles to create any semblance of stability; hence, an election is set for March 5.
This instability is not just academic for India, which shares a lengthy, open border with Nepal. The chaos there has implications for security and migration, affecting both nations.
This isn’t the first instance where Western assessments have conflated popular empowerment with mob violence. Historical patterns show that when mobs take control, the true rulers are often military leaders, not the populace. With Nepal descending into chaos, military oversight seems likely, raising troubling prospects about future governance.
Romanticizing upheaval in precarious states can be perilous. By celebrating mob violence as a democratic expression, the focus veers away from bolstering institutions, instead conferring legitimacy on movements that dismantle them. This creates a false narrative, where actual victors become military leaders, not citizens, and diminishes the reality of the struggle for responsible governance to mere entertainment for outsiders.
Interestingly, the same Western media that often adopts different standards at home and abroad labeled the January 6, 2021, storming of the U.S. Capitol as an assault on law and order, while applauding violence in Nepal as a “people’s revolution.”
This double standard is more than misleading; it inadvertently endorses disruptive actions abroad that wouldn’t be acceptable closer to home.
Nepal’s situation should serve as a cautionary tale. Democracy cannot flourish on the ruins of violence; it requires strong institutions and rule of law. With the foundations of order in disarray, any recovery risks being overshadowed by military control. Mistaking chaos for meaningful change invites further instability.
