New Delhi: In a move that has sent shockwaves through the Himalayan nation, Nepal’s government has imposed a sweeping ban on 26 major social media platforms, plunging millions into a digital void and sparking violent protests that have already claimed 19 lives.
The restrictions, enforced last week after platforms like Facebook, Instagram, YouTube, WhatsApp, and X (formerly Twitter) failed to meet a registration deadline, were intended to safeguard national sovereignty and curb online harms. But what began as a regulatory nudge has escalated into a full-blown crisis, with Gen Z protesters accusing authorities of stifling free speech and exacerbating corruption.
The ban, announced by the Ministry of Communication and Information Technology, affects a staggering array of services integral to daily life in Nepal, where nearly 90 per cent of the country’s 30 million people rely on the internet. Platforms such as LinkedIn, TikTok’s rivals like Snapchat and Reddit, and even messaging apps like Telegram have been blocked, leaving users scrambling for alternatives like VPNs – which, ironically, are also under scrutiny.
Only a handful of local apps, such as Hamro Patro, and X have partially complied, allowing limited access. The government’s rationale is straightforward: these foreign giants disregarded a Supreme Court-mandated directive from September 2024, which required all social media operators to register with Nepali authorities to ensure accountability for content moderation.
“These platforms have been operating without respect for our laws, spreading misinformation, hate speech, and content that disrupts social harmony,” a senior ministry official stated during a press briefing in Kathmandu.
The regulations, rooted in the Information Technology Bill, aim to combat fake news, cybercrimes, and divisive rhetoric that officials claim have eroded public trust. Nepal’s history with digital restrictions is not new; in 2023, TikTok was outright banned for allegedly promoting “indecent materials” and social discord. This time, however, TikTok appears to have dodged the bullet, possibly due to its prior compliance efforts or ongoing negotiations, though details remain murky.
Yet, the ban’s timing and scope have ignited a firestorm, particularly among Nepal’s youth, who form the backbone of the country’s burgeoning digital economy. Protests erupted across Kathmandu, Pokhara, and other urban centres within hours of the shutdown, with demonstrators – many waving placards reading “Internet is Our Right” and “End the Digital Dictatorship” – clashing with police.
Eyewitnesses describe chaotic scenes: water cannons dousing crowds, baton charges dispersing gatherings, and even rubber bullets fired into throngs of chanting students. By Sunday evening, the death toll had climbed to 19, with reports of at least one fatality directly attributed to police firing live rounds in the capital. Hospitals in Kathmandu are overwhelmed, treating scores for injuries ranging from fractures to gunshot wounds.
At the heart of the unrest is a generation feeling increasingly marginalised. Nepal’s Gen Z, comprising over 40 per cent of the population, has long used social media as a lifeline for education, activism, and economic opportunities. With youth unemployment hovering at 20 per cent and corruption scandals plaguing the political elite, platforms like Instagram and YouTube have become virtual town squares for voicing grievances. “This ban isn’t just about registration; it’s about silencing us,” said Aisha Thapa, a 22-year-old university student and protest organiser, speaking to reporters via a smuggled satellite phone. “We’ve seen how social media exposed the government’s failures – from nepotism in jobs to environmental mismanagement. Now, they’re pulling the plug to hide it all.”
The protests have evolved beyond the ban, morphing into a broader indictment of systemic issues. Demonstrators have linked the digital clampdown to entrenched corruption, with chants echoing demands for transparency in governance. One viral (pre-ban) video circulating on alternative channels showed protesters storming a government office, symbolising their frustration with a regime perceived as out of touch. International observers, including the United Nations, have expressed alarm, with UN Human Rights Chief Volker Türk offering assistance to mediate the crisis. “We urge restraint from all sides and emphasise that restrictions on digital access must align with international standards on freedom of expression,” a UN spokesperson said.
From a regulatory standpoint, Nepal’s actions mirror a global trend of governments reining in Big Tech. Countries like India, with its stringent data localisation laws, and the European Union, enforcing the Digital Services Act, have similarly pushed for oversight. In Nepal, the ban stems from a 2024 Supreme Court ruling that highlighted the unchecked proliferation of harmful content during elections and social movements. Officials argue that without registration, platforms evade taxes, ignore local data privacy norms, and amplify divisive narratives – issues exacerbated by Nepal’s fragile multi-ethnic fabric, where ethnic tensions have simmered for decades.
But critics, including digital rights groups like Access Now and local NGOs, decry the measure as disproportionate and authoritarian. “This is a blatant violation of fundamental rights under Nepal’s constitution and international covenants,” argued Sushil Gyawali, executive director of the Nepal Internet Foundation. He points out that the ban disrupts e-commerce, remote learning, and remittances – vital for a landlocked economy reliant on diaspora connections. Small businesses, many run by young entrepreneurs on Instagram shops, report losses in the lakhs, while students preparing for exams via YouTube tutorials are left in the lurch.
As night falls over Kathmandu’s smog-choked streets, the air is thick with tension. Barricades dot key intersections, and internet cafes are buzzing with VPN users evading blocks. The government has deployed additional security forces, vowing to restore order while insisting the ban is temporary pending compliance. Prime Minister K P Sharma Oli addressed the nation late Saturday, calling for calm and framing the protests as “manipulated by anti-national elements.” Yet, with social media’s absence, information flows through whispers and foreign broadcasts, fuelling rumours and mistrust.
Looking ahead, the crisis poses profound questions for Nepal’s democracy. Will this ban force platforms to engage more deeply with local laws, or will it drive users underground to unregulated spaces? For Gen Z, it’s a wake-up call: in an era where digital tools define identity and resistance, any attempt to sever that cord risks unraveling the social fabric. As one protester scrawled on a wall near Durbar Square: “The internet isn’t a privilege; it’s our voice.” With the death toll rising and international eyes watching, Nepal stands at a digital crossroads, where regulation meets revolution.