“The revolution will not be televised”—but it will be live-streamed. When the government of Nepal abruptly banned over 20 social media platforms, attempting to suppress criticism and public outrage over corruption, it was not state-run broadcasters or traditional journalists who shaped the narrative. Instead, digital outsiders and young citizens seized the moment. For example, British travel vlogger Harry, known for his YouTube channel “wehatethecold,” suddenly became a prominent source of on-the-ground reporting for the outside world, showing protests flooding the streets of Kathmandu, Nepal, in early September 2025.
As seen in Harry’s livestreams, with signs declaring themselves members of Generation Z (Gen Z), thousands cited anger at the country’s corruption and inequality as motives, pushing back riot police and setting the parliament ablaze. While there were over 70 confirmed casualties from clashes with the police and the military imposed a curfew, the protesters achieved one of their goals: Prime Minister Khadga Prasad Oli resigned from his post on 9 September 2025. In the aftermath of the successful uprising, the army began negotiations over who should fill the power vacuum the Oli government’s collapse had left behind.
This should not be the end of social media’s surprisingly central role in Nepal’s revolution. While some Gen Z representatives were negotiating with the army in person, behind closed doors, an entirely new form of election was being held. With most platforms banned and proper institutional channels paralysed, protesters were forced to find new ways to organise and be heard: they turned to Discord, where around 160,000 users joined the channel “Youth Against Corruption” to debate who the new interim president should be. Almost by accident, the platform usually reserved for gamers was used to wage its own kind of political revolution. It became host to passionate debates and heartfelt appeals, but also moments of chaos, when rumours flew faster than anyone could catch them.
In a moment defined by crisis, young Nepalis built an experiment that surprised the world and forced many of us to rethink what democracy looks like in the 21st century. Other chatrooms and platforms, such as YouTube, were used as well, but most of the action was happening on an app best known for hosting long gaming sessions. There, digital creativity gave rise to the world’s first state election conducted almost entirely online. Potential interim prime ministers like the former Chief Justice Sushila Karki, youth leader Sagar Dhakal, and Dharan Mayor Harka Sampang were debated and, more crucially, voted on. By the end, Sushila Karki was selected as Nepal’s first female prime minister through an open poll, receiving nearly 4,000 digital votes in her favour.
The transitional government pledged to follow its constituents’ wishes: Sushila Karki acknowledged that Gen Z protesters primarily want equality, a trustworthy government, and an end to corruption. In this vein, she has pledged to step down after her six-month mandate and ensure a smooth transition for the new government, which will be voted on in March. While she has named new ministers, some speculate that Prime Minister Karki intends to focus primarily on ensuring that the election in March of 2026 is both free and fair.
As with most new participatory methods, this was not a neat process. Questions of legitimacy arose immediately. Can we trust an election in which votes could have been cast multiple times? When moderators filter chats and ban accounts, does everyone truly get a voice? While these digital ballots left some Discord users feeling heard, others struggled to break through the noise or lacked the digital access to participate fully. In a reflection of the inequality that sparked these protests in the first place, individuals in rural areas did not have the same access to technology as those in the capital, Kathmandu. They also tended to speak more local languages, making it unlikely that they were even fully aware of the different candidates. This shows the limits of technology when it is unevenly deployed across a society still marked by inequality and diversity. Many mainstream political parties made this exact argument, calling the process unconstitutional. For example, the Communist Party of Nepal argued that the country’s 31 million inhabitants could not possibly be represented by a Discord group chat with fewer than 200,000 participants. However, others saw the Discord election as a demonstration of the raw energy and ideals of a new generation who would not sit quietly on the sidelines.
As the dust settles, a bigger lesson hovers over Nepal: young people, not just in Nepal but around the world, are demanding greater openness in democracy—and the right to participate more meaningfully. While the Discord elections in Nepal are a wholly new and unique situation, they also feel like a glimpse into our collective future. When old systems break down and trust in media and institutions falters, young people will find a way, sometimes in the most unlikely of spaces, to make their voices heard. Maybe, in the next crisis, it won’t just be Nepal where ballots and byte codes blend together to fight for a better tomorrow.
Written by Kim Berglöff, Edited by Raleigh Kuipers
Photo Credit: Wikimedia Commons (uploaded on September 8, 2025)
