Beyond Marrs

This is not the post that I thought I would be writing. In fact, there were so many other things I speculated would be my first note from Nepal: seeing Kathmandu through my children’s eyes, visiting favorite old places and discovering new ones, experiencing the merriment of the Indra Jatra festival. All of those, to be sure, are worthy. But this last week has changed things in such unanticipated ways that it really became clear that these events were what I would share with you.

In case you hadn’t heard in the news, Nepal has just experienced a political reckoning. Many international news outlets have reported a frustratingly simplistic narrative: that the government banned social media and, because of that, youth took to the streets to protest. True in part, yes. However, it misses the heart of the matter. Earlier this month, the government issued a ban on social media platforms who hadn’t registered in the country. This included Facebook/Instagram, WhatsApp, X and over 20 others. They did this not for administrative reasons, but because their larger goal was to gain control over content: the government wanted to be able to have an ability to censor posts and shut down voices that countered government narratives (a movement that has been growing online)- a nuanced point that has been almost entirely missed in international accounts. An additional point of contention is the fact that social media apps are important tools of communication in Nepal. Much like in rural Alaska, Nepali people use Messenger and WhatsApp to communicate with one another because those platforms are more reliable than cellular data and are free to use. It’s not just scrolling and memes. It is a communication lifeline for many people. And for the over 2 million Nepalis who live outside of Nepal, the value of communication through these platforms cannot be overstated. Businesses, civic organizations, and the tourism sector also highly depend on social media to market to their audience. So taking that tool out of the hands of ordinary Nepalis would be devastating. To round out the list of contributing factors to the protests, social media has also cracked open a view into the lives of previously very private and unreachable people: the political elite. Historically, the chasm between ordinary folks and the ruling class was wide; with social media, however, those lives all appear on your screen equally. So, when ordinary Nepali people who work hard and are trying to survive in this country see the luxury brands and expensive vacations that the children of politicians are enjoying (and posting about) it ignites a fury fueled by a sense of inequality. Those 2 million Nepalis who live abroad? So very many of them are leaving their families, their homes, their country to find jobs where they can earn money and send it home to support their loved ones (the amount of remittances that are sent back to Nepal are literally uncountable as they don’t always go through official institutions but are presumed to make up to a third of the economy in Nepal). The stark divide was now right there, in your palm, every day: inequality between (questionably) rich elites and regular folks on full display. Nepal’s Gen Z grew up in the shadow of the country’s civil war and were promised a “New Nepal”. But what they got was more of the same: old party politics, entrenched corruption, networks of patronage, plus a failing economy and pressure to earn (driving those millions of Nepalis abroad). And that facet underscored what has been-and continues to be-the most important contributing factor to this week’s protests: fighting political corruption and the old order.

Gen Z (youth ages 13-28) has been laser-focused on combatting the corruption that has been entrenched in Nepali politics for decades. And, in leading the way towards action, they organized a peaceful protest on September 8th. No one could have predicted what happened next. When the Nepal Police opened fire with live ammunition on peaceful protesters, everything changed. That unarmed youth were shot dead in the street was unfathomable; everyone felt a jolt: of fear, of anger, of heart-wrenching sadness. In the following 48 hours, Kathmandu -and towns across Nepal- burned. Gen Z distanced itself from the ensuing violence, insisting that opportunistic groups took advantage of the situation to burn, loot, kill, and otherwise do harm. While we can’t know for sure, it is highly plausible (and if you want to know more about why I think that, I’ve got a nice dissertation for you to read). On Tuesday we watched as Singha Durbar was set on fire, Ministers’ houses were torched, businesses tied to corruption were set ablaze (the Hilton, Ullen’s School, Bhat Bhateni supermarkets). From our rooftop we witnessed fires rage across the city, triangulating what we were reading on the news with what we were seeing with our own eyes. We could hear loud bangs and sirens screeching across the city. Black smoke permeated the air and burned in our noses. While Ministers were helicoptered to safety- being whisked away right above our heads- the Tribhuvan International Airport was shut down. By the evening, the Nepal Army was called in to enforce law and order. Immediately, curfews were put in place: no movement would be allowed until further notice. Yet, on Wednesday Gen Z organized clean up crews to pick up the broken pieces of the city. They gathered armfuls of ashes and glass and burnt tires, they rescued critical government documents, and they did it side by side with neighbors, because that’s what it means to be a caring citizen and to lead forward into the future. 

For the last five days we have been on a rotation of curfew (no movement) and prohibitory movement (movement allowed during specified hours). Mostly, those prohibitory couple of hours have been in the early evening where we have immediately taken ourselves outside, into the neighborhood for fresh air and to stretch our legs. As we pass small shops and people gathered outside homes, we can hear the chatter about what’s going on, we can sense both the tension of the moment and the relief of being able to move. We can see the black shell of the Hilton in the distance and a fire nearby that is still smoldering. At home we are keeping ourselves busy with light versions of work and school, reading, drawing. And we are finding ourselves having some very deep and organic conversations about politics, power, protest, (in)equality, governance, and justice with the kids. We are grateful to have such curious young humans who want to ask questions and want to know more about what is going on in the world around them. Engaging them in age-appropriate conversations has been a really good way to help ease some of their confusion and fear about what is happening. And, in a completely unexpected way, my past life as a researcher of politics in Nepal has become quite handy in all of this. In returning to Nepal after being gone for 16 years, I never imagined that I would walk right back into a space that I had closed off- professionally and emotionally. My world here in 2008-2009 was centered around the dynamics of violence that took place after the end of the civil war: agitation for a “New Nepal”, more equitable representation in government, new federal structures and systems, power struggles, and localized violence. That I am finding myself here in this moment in Nepal’s history feels incredibly surreal.    

 

The last few days have left everyone uneasy and speculating. The Prime Minister resigned on Tuesday leaving a democratic power vacuum. The Nepal Army-historically loyal to the (abolished) monarchy-was now in a position of increased power. Disagreements amongst Gen Z and political groups about next steps ramped up: should Parliament be dissolved? Should there be an Interim Prime Minister? And, if so, who? People had their favorites, of course. And even those arguments spilled into the streets with isolated skirmishes. We wondered aloud: is the Gen Z movement equipped to move from a non-hierarchical, power diffuse collective into a position of negotiating with the Army and shaping the political future of Nepal? In fact, they are. Through online Discord discussions with over 6,000 participants, discussions with experts, talks with the President and Army Chief-a clear candidate for Interim Prime Minister was selected: Chief Justice Sushila Karki. While in her 70s, Karki has had a lifetime career of battling corruption through cases heard in the Supreme Court (she was once removed from the Court for her anti-corruption stance and then later reinstated). Some were opposed to her selection, as she is clearly not from the Gen Z generation. But, that’s the thing: it was always about fighting corruption, not solely about age. Gen Z leaders recognized the critical role that the Interim Prime Minister will play in caretaking the country during a transition period until new elections take place. They needed someone with wisdom and experience; someone who is tough to shake down and someone who will, above all else, honor the Constitution of Nepal. And so, last night, in a historic moment for the country, Sushila Karki was sworn in as the first female Prime Minister of Nepal. And, for the first time in over 10 years, the Prime Ministership was released from the rotating group of the same old men who’d held it (Sher Bahadur Deuba, KP Sharma Oli, and Pushpa Kamal Dahal/Prachanda).

The House of Representatives has now been dissolved. New elections have been set for March 5th. What we’ve witnessed this week has been historic. I am cautiously optimistic that we will continue to see important wins in the months and years to come-especially where anti-corruption, justice, and youth representation are concerned. Still, there will be challenges for sure: Karki will need to form a council of Ministers and balance the competing interests of political parties, Gen Z, and the Army. There must be an investigation into the deaths of civilian protestors. Gen Z will need to ensure that they are representing the voices of youth across the country, not just those in Kathmandu and online. And, critically important, March elections must be free and fair and produce an effective government with competent leaders that is transparent and accountable to its citizens. But what I want to remember is this: busting up an old system and creating opportunity for something truly new is all because young people stood up and said “enough”. Tired of corruption, tired of the same old politics, they took action. No one would have guessed on Monday morning where we would be today. But here we are, looking towards a brighter future, led by the very people who will be most impacted by today’s choices. 

For us, now, we are safe. We are in our very lovely home on the edge of Kathmandu. We have had the wisdom and care of Nepali and expat friends to talk to through these events. We have been through all the rounds of scenario planning as each day brings us something new to consider. With the lifting of restrictions on movement this morning, we will be more able to engage in the things we came here to do in the coming days: explore the city, visit some of the lovely areas outside of the Valley, and join in the ebb and flow of daily life. The country’s biggest, and most important, festival is coming up at the end of the month. Dashain is a time when families reunite over a two-week period- it’s a celebration of togetherness, it marks the end of the harvest season, and it’s a Hindu symbol of the triumph of good over evil. We have been eagerly looking forward to experiencing Dashain with our friends and neighbors. And it seems like this year, Dashain will hold an even deeper meaning. So, while this wasn’t the post I was expecting to write, I am honored to get to share this historical moment with you all.