Why did the youth in Nepal explode in such a rage? A psychoanalytical explanation

The images were striking. And they were all over social media. Dense, massive columns of angry smoke billowing up from Nepal’s Parliament building , the seat of its fragile democracy. The young generation have had it enough. No one was spared, the ruling party, Opposition, least of all the prime minister whose residence also went up in flames . KP Sharma Oli had to flee for his life.

In scenes that were as dramatic as ominous, Oli’s ministers and their families were seen desperately clinging on to the dangling army chopper ropes during evacuation as violent mobs were closing in. Nepal’s old political elite collapsed like the proverbial house of cards. Last heard, Oli was hiding inside the army barracks at a ‘secure location’ in Shivapuri. The ageing prime minister was forced to resign.

There is an uninformed quality about the ‘Gen Z’ protests in Nepal led by disorganized groups of young people who have never seen anything beyond geriatric leaders maintaining an iron grip over power in a revolving-door arrangement for decades through an alphabet soup of Maoist, Communist and Congressi outfits. And no one was able to even remotely deliver the jobs or the opportunities that a young demography demanded.

One of the world’s least developed states, about a fifth of Nepal’s youth are jobless. The rate of unemployment for the 15-24 cohort was nearly 21% in 2024, according to World Bank data which also points out that more than a third of Nepal’s GDP comes from remittances as young people are forced to move abroad in search of work.

The almost theatrical violence unleashed on the streets of Nepal by the disillusioned young suggested a performative rage. The expression of a violent nihilism through ransacking, arson and destruction by the youth who form around 40% of the population, and are fed up with systemic nepotism, corruption, economic stagnation, and power grab by a ruling elite whose incompetence and exploitation left no viable pathway for the youth to jobs, dignity or development.

Nepal has had 13 governments since 2008, the year the monarchy was abolished. The Jan Andolan II of 2005 that overthrew monarchical rule has left a betrayed nation and a stillborn democracy in its wake. A cycle of unstable coalitions and leadership musical chairs among a handful of ageing politicians has perpetuated a two-tier system where self-serving elites and their families amassed unexplained wealth while the country grappled with poverty, inequality and crushed hopes.

Social media apps such as TikTok and Instagram played no small a part in the disillusionment, bringing the world closer to the disgruntled youth, showing them the contrast between a hopeless future and a prosperous tomorrow, the ritzy lifestyle and elite priviledge of ‘nepo kids’ who secure quotas in plum government jobs, foreign education, designer handbags and luxury perks, while university educated youth were left with no stable jobs or services and must move abroad for low wage labour. It deepened the resentment.

The vandalism of public properties therefore became a manifestation of ‘expressive political violence’, a symbolic nihilism where violence is the only way left to convey deeper grievances as conventional channels were nonexistent. The social media ban was merely a trigger for the repressive anger and frustration to boil over. It didn’t help of course that the state responded with brutal force when challenged by the youth.

In a country where one in four people struggles to make ends meet, nepotism became a lightning rod for betrayal, symbolizing broader corruption and the misuse of state resources. It spoke of a system that was insular to the needs of wider public and bred disparity, pushing the youth towards exclusion while party elites, their progenies and close associates cornered jobs, scholarships and opportunities.

In the days leading up to the tsunami of anger, video clips of ‘nepo kids’ enjoying their lives and flaunting their wealth reinforced ‘status incongruence’, where social mobility is blocked for a large section of the populace while a small coterie of influential and power people advance through priviledge rather than merit. Social media hammered home this incongruity.

If we look at the quantum and subject of Gen Z protests it becomes evident that both the ruling party and cabinet ministers, as well as Opposition leaders and former prime ministers were attacked, chased through the streets and lynched. It indicated general disenchantment with the entire political spectrum. Harrowing visuals emerged of angry mobs chasing ministers through streets and into the river.

A wide array of properties was destroyed and set on fire. From the Supreme Court building to the Parliament, from government offices to residences of politicians, from political party offices to media outlets, from manufacturing facilities, businesses, shops and commercial enterprises to hospitals and police stations. The Hilton Hotel in Kathmandu was completely charred, a symbol of public anger against both public and private properties, a rage against graft and exploitation.

This targeting of core institutions and private properties that symbolized Nepal’s existence as a sovereign state – the Parliament, Supreme Court, government offices, media offices, tourism hubs – is a collective demonstration of generational agency and a rejection of state legitimacy. When citizens no longer recognize state authority as legitimate, violence against state symbols becomes justifiable as resistance rather than criminality, a representation of the government losing consent of the governed.

The violence was simultaneously cathartic and mimetic. It is cathartic because it released the accumulated frustration without any sort of plan in place to offer an alternative. The youth acted on impulse, burning down everything in their path, symbolically asserting their power over previously untouchable institutions. Worth noting that on most occasions, items from vandalized shops or private residences were thrown to the ground and destroyed rather than looted (though looting did occur sporadically). It suggested expressive anger, not opportunism.

The mimetic nature of the violence is expressed in the way it replicated the youth-led uprising in Sri Lanka in 2022 and to a lesser extent, Bangladesh in 2024 (though the violence in Dhaka was a lot more organized and characterized by foreign intervention). There is a spontaneity in the protests in Nepal and Sri Lanka, less organization, more organic and therefore without a valid roadmap for democratic renewal.

It is nevertheless a shot across the bow for political parties in the Indian subcontinent, compelling them to take note of the lessons put forward that politicians may overlook at their own peril. The unrest in Nepal is a warning against dynastic rule and elite capture of state resources and institutions. It is a clarion call for a more responsible and responsive government that may cater to the needs of young demography.

The uneasy calm that has settled on Nepal after the military took charge may be short lived. A few names such as Sushila Karki, former chief justice of Nepal, is being thrown around to take charge of an interim government but notably, the rhetoric has shifted from “all politicians are corrupt” and “the prime minister and the president should be from Gen-Z” to “We are not capable of taking the leadership, and it will take us time to be mature enough to take the leadership.”

What Nepal needs now is stabilization and reforms, the restoration of trust in democracy and its institutions. It could be easier said than done.

The writer is Deputy Executive Editor, Firstpost. He tweets as @sreemoytalukdar. Views expressed in the above piece are personal and solely those of the author. They do not necessarily reflect Firstpost’s views.