As I have learnt, observing Nepal’s elections, its dual-election system all but excludes “knock-out” victory. Typically, counting continues tediously for weeks. Party bosses sit cheek by jowl, quarrelling over paltry, disputed ballots. The 5 March election was called after youth protests in September 2025 forced the resignation of K. P. Sharma Oli. This year, the Gen Z vote brought seismic change. From e-day 5 March 2026, it was apparent that the Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) under rapper-turned-politician, Balendra Shah, had broken the glass ceiling. The country’s allegedly corrupt political elite and entrenched power structures fell. Symbolically, Balendra himself trounced Oli even on his home turf. Thus, the barely four-year-old RSP pulled off a decisive majority. The CPN (Nepal’s Communist Party) simply folded like a box of cards.
How did Nepal electorally transform, and why is Gen Z so important? The immediate catalyst for the unrest was the Cabinet decision on 4 September 2025 to ban major social media platforms, including YouTube, Facebook, and WhatsApp, citing their failure to register under new, restrictive digital laws. This digital blackout was widely perceived as an attempt to stifle dissent and stymy communication networks used by activists. In response, a leaderless movement, predominantly organised by students, erupted on 8 September 2025. Protesters converged at Maitighar Mandala and marched toward the Federal Parliament Building, demanding an end to both the digital embargo and the Council of Ministers.
The situation became a “Day of Rage” with the army firing to quell the crowds. By 9 September, eighty people had been killed and over 2,000 injured as protesters set fire to several government structures, including Oli’s Office. Things only worsened. Amidst the total collapse of civilian governance and mass desertion within his cabinet, Oli resigned on 9 September 2025. Thereafter, Nepal’s military assumed control of security in the Kathmandu Valley to stabilise the region, after the country’s senior leaders had to be ignominiously evacuated.
However, RSP’s campaign gathered momentum only after the entry of a charismatic newcomer, possessing a vast social media following. Balendra Shah waltzed the Kathmandu mayoral race in 2022 and quickly built a combative reputation. For many voters, it represented a generational shift. The result is rather symbolic of young people’s thinking- a desperation for change but no coherent plan. Balendra, 35, possesses merely three years of political experience as mayor of the capital, Kathmandu. They were popular years. But everyone I spoke to in Kathmandu, Pokhara and in the regional city of Nepalgunj, bordering India, spoke only of hope. I called on a Kathmandu hospital, visibly full of RSP supporters. The medical superintendent, Dr Ramesh, explained Balen’s victory thus:
That he is a relative newcomer to politics is widely viewed as a strength, not a weakness, by Nepalese voters. Before the election, it was seen as possible that the power-holders were under threat. Predictably, they did little to change. They pushed out the same old empty phrases and goody-box of campaign largesse. It might have worked for pensioners glad of a box of tissues or even of a humble tee-shirt from CPN, but the professional and younger classes had had enough of their empty promises.
As if confirming precisely such a sea-change in attitude, in downtown Kathmandu, a massive cartoon of Balen and the RSP President Rabi Lamichhane proclaiming, “We have arrived”, also depicts the smashing of the brick walls of Congress-House. In Pokhara, a version of this graphic cartoon festooned the launching site for balloon trips. In Lumbini, regarded as Buddha’s birthplace, Balen was depicted close to the holy Buddha himself, perhaps something that would ordinarily be regarded as sacrilegious, and would never have been permitted under CPN rule. In Bhagalpur, RSP were also predominant in the pre-election rallies and poster parades. Balen made a good poster boy.
This was my third trip to Nepal, and I remain surprised that a capital city continues to creak and groan its way through the 21st century with the ubiquitous public squalor it does. Most visitors will pass through Thamel, the primary tourist hub, and maybe even the government complex, Singha Durbar, or (aptly named) Freak Street (where Nepalese politicians schmooze with businessfolk). Between there and Indra Chowk is about the poshest area of town. The roads are mostly pot-holes, woodsmoke-suffocating, and the traffic congestion is such that walking is desirable. A humble bicycle might be a risk too far. One wonders if Balen has any plan for this. Our Head of Mission took so long to be driven less than a mile that she missed her own press conference.
This is a young population crying out for fast change. The 2026 general election was precipitated by a period of acute socio-economic instability and a total breakdown of trust between the state and Nepal’s youth. By mid-2025, public frustration had reached a zenith over rampant corruption, high youth unemployment, and the perceived nepotism of the political elite, lampooned in viral “#NepoKid” and “#NepoBabies” social media platforms.
Roads had been one of Balen’s election pledges, and he had demonstrated his heavy-handedness on traffic jams. That had actually alarmed Human Rights Watch, whose country representative, Meenakshi Ganguly, in the days preceding e-day, cautioned, “We hope as prime minister, there would be a focus on a more rules-based order. ” On RSP’s second promise to tackle corruption, Balen pledged to confiscate the assets of those in power since the 1990s, nationalise properties acquired illegally, reform Nepal’s judiciary, terminate the political appointments of judges, and live-stream commerce trials for legal transparency.
But the most crucial of goals for the RSP is surely an economy so ruptured that its overseas remittances make up a large part of the GDP. Nearly a third of the country is jobless. The RSP manifesto pledged 7% year-on-year growth, but the World Bank puts it at 4.6% in 2025 and dropping. Continued violent political shenanigans, numerous natural disasters, aviation tragedies, and an appalling level of service have all put tabs on tourism. They are also vulnerable to wage losses if Nepalis working in the Gulf have to repatriate.
The other obvious challenge for the RSP is metamorphosing from campaigning to ruling. How are they to eliminate endemic clientism? As Human Rights Watch noted in 2025,
Nepal has operated under a system of political patronage that has advantaged the powerful and rewarded the rich. While there is a big opportunity, it will mean very tough choices and could be destabilising at first. Moreover, there is the question of how Balen and the RSP will balance the competing influences of regional neighbours. Nepal is a Hindu-majority country wedged between India and China. Thousands of Hindu pilgrims visit every year from India, through an open border, and Delhi has had an outsized influence on Nepal’s political landscape for decades…
Balen’s mood-music with India’s PM, Narendra Modi, seems good for now, but as Human Rights Watch also acknowledges, “we have two huge neighbours, rivals with each other, and the biggest challenge is maintaining a balanced relationship…we have to assure them (both) we won’t allow Nepali territory to be used against them.”
There is a toxic legacy, too. Naturally, Oli was perceived as backing China, despite Nepal’s long-standing policy of “non-alliance”. How do you persuade your neighbours that there is a new kid in town without rocking the old Communist boat? However, even under Oli, while Nepal endorsed China’s landmark infrastructure agreement, the Belt and Road Initiative in 2017, not a single project resulted. Oli refused the loan terms proposed by Beijing. As for Washington, traditionally, Nepal has been cosy with the USA. One imagines Balen is shrewd enough not to invoke ire from President Trump.
Nepal’s elections took place six months after protests triggered by corruption, unemployment and wealth disparity. The stakes are high, especially after the world’s first Gen Z-inspired election in Bangladesh. Nepal’s September protests took place as part of a wave of youth movements from Bangladesh, Indonesia and the Philippines to Morocco, Madagascar, Peru and Bulgaria. Nepal’s elections are therefore a testbed for a critical question: how did the energy of Gen Z protests translate into electoral success?
Yet the impact of youth politics in Nepal can be measured as a process, not as a single event. Gen Z protesters have proved that an establishment government could be removed by popular protest. They have already successfully forced an election, defined by their messages and media, which produced a seismic result. There is no one politician who can fix all of Nepal’s problems, nor please Gen Z voters, but the process of change will continue. There is a tentative sense that youth voters can hold the establishment to account. Voters may feel trepidation, but also optimism. It remains to be seen if Balen can get the balance right between governance, political control and charisma. He has been hailed as “Nepal’s Bono”, but rock stars rarely have to accede to the tricky task of government. Having rapped the election, Balen now has the formidable goal of rapping his country. He has the zeitgeist of a reforming, if not revolutionary, politician, but he must surely tiptoe around a political quicksand haunted by restive crocodiles.
Further Reading on E-International Relations
