Lessons from Nepal on the High Cost of Controlling Online Expression

In a matter of days, Nepal has gone from a fragile democracy to a digital battleground where the future of the nation is being shaped not in parliament, but on Discord servers. The government’s blanket ban on 26 major social media platforms, including Facebook, Instagram, WhatsApp, YouTube, and Discord, set off a chain of events that have now left the country without a government. At least 51 people are dead, hundreds are injured, and government buildings in Kathmandu lie in ruins after protests led by Gen Z escalated into mass unrest.

What began as a fight for digital freedom quickly snowballed into a political reckoning. Amid the chaos, a new center of power emerged from an unlikely place: Discord.

A ban that sparked a revolution

In Nepal, social media is more than a distraction; people’s lives depend on it. About 80% of all internet traffic in Nepal goes through social platforms. As of 2025, the country had 14.3 million active Facebook users, 3.9 million on Instagram, 2 million on LinkedIn, and nearly 400,000 on X (formerly Twitter). For millions of Nepalis, both at home and abroad, these platforms are lifelines for communication, commerce, and news.

On September 4, 2025, Nepal’s Supreme Court upheld the government’s decision to ban social media platforms under the Social Media Bill, 2025, and the earlier Social Media Directive of 2023. These laws required all local and international tech platforms to register with Nepali authorities, open local offices, appoint grievance officers, and moderate so-called “harmful” content. Non-compliance came with steep penalties, up to $71,000 for companies and $3,600 for individuals, in a country where the average annual income is just $1,456.

The law’s vague language, referring loosely to hate speech, trolling, and misleading information, has raised red flags among rights groups, who argue it gives the government unchecked power to silence critics. Even the definition of "social media" appeared confused: the banned list lumped together messaging services like WhatsApp and Signal with platforms like Reddit, Pinterest, and several obscure apps, suggesting a lack of technical understanding, or a deliberate overreach.

The government defended the move as a push for accountability, arguing that all tech platforms operating in Nepal should fall under national laws and taxation. The laws also granted the state sweeping authority to deny licenses to platforms it deemed harmful to "peace, national unity, or sovereignty."

The ban came amid frustration among Nepal’s youth, driven by soaring unemployment and a lack of economic opportunity. They were frustrated over the growing visibility of inequality, especially the sight of politicians’ children flaunting luxury handbags, expensive vacations, and elite lifestyles on social media while most Nepalis struggled to get by.

The social media ban, which severed millions from their daily channels of communication and business, including tourism, pushed the youth over the edge. Ironically, even government agencies themselves depended on Facebook and X for official communication, a contradiction not lost on critics. The government, meanwhile, urged citizens not to use VPNs, citing security risks, and called on them to comply with the ban. However, within hours, Nepal’s Gen Z, those born between 1997 and 2012, had bypassed the restrictions by using VPNs and alternative apps, such as TikTok. They organized a nationwide protest for September 8, which the state attempted to suppress with force, killing 19 people on the first day alone. The protest, initially planned as peaceful, spiraled into deadly violence and ultimately toppled the government in less than 30 hours.

A Discord democracy

Now, with official institutions in disarray, Nepal’s Gen Z has turned to online platforms, ironically, the very ones the government sought to suppress, to steer the country forward.

Just until a week ago, Discord was among the apps blocked by the government. Today, its anonymous servers are hosting thousands of Nepalis, both in-country and from the diaspora, discussing leadership, policy agendas, and the formation of an interim government. The main server, moderated by original protest organizers, reached its 10,000-user capacity, with discussions mirrored live across YouTube channels for broader access.

Groups like Hami Nepal, at the forefront of the protests, have led the transition from the streets to the screen. They've used banned platforms like Instagram and Facebook to publish unofficial press releases, issue public warnings about disinformation, and crowdsource leadership nominations from across the country. People are voting on potential interim leaders through polls, while others debate the country's political future on Discord channels. The spaces that were considered a threat to the country until a week ago have now become the country’s space for parliamentary discussions.

The aftermath of the protests continues to unfold online. Social media feeds are filled with footage of burning buildings, fleeing politicians, and intense street confrontations. But as the Gen Z-led movement gains momentum, it has also become increasingly difficult to distinguish between the “official” organizers, supporters, and impersonators. This confusion has made the movement vulnerable to misinformation.

One viral video falsely claimed that protest leaders had met with former King Gyanendra, who was ousted in 2008. The video circulated widely before being debunked by fact-checkers, who confirmed it was five months old. Even so, the narrative gained traction until protest leaders themselves publicly denied the rumors and reaffirmed their republican stance.

On the night of September 11, a protest leader was seen calling a military official, warning against any royal interference. This previously unheard-of level of transparency, where even army communications are made public, marks a dramatic shift in how political information is disseminated in Nepal. Traditional media has struggled to keep up with the rapid pace of unfiltered, real-time updates flooding in from social media.

Even serious claims have been weaponized. A widely shared false report alleged that the wife of a former Prime Minister had been burned alive. In reality, the former PM was alive but critically injured in the hospital.

Push for control and its global echo

Nepal’s digital crackdown mirrors a broader trend in Asia, where governments are increasingly invoking national security to restrict online speech.

The Social Media Bill, 2025, is widely seen as Nepal’s attempt to follow the digital authoritarian playbooks of China and India. The country had already banned TikTok in 2023 for allegedly disrupting "social harmony" before reinstating it in 2024 after Bytedance agreed to local compliance. In July 2025, Telegram was banned over concerns of online fraud and money laundering.

The government has also moved to centralize internet control through a proposed national internet gateway, echoing China’s Great Firewall. Reports of spyware procurement and new surveillance technologies have raised alarms, along with continued reliance on the outdated Electronic Transaction Act (2008), especially Section 47, which criminalizes vaguely defined “indecent” or “hate” content and is regularly used against dissenting voices.

Nepal’s recent steps are part of a regional authoritarian drift, and observers warn it could embolden similar moves across South Asia. Given the role of social media in the political upheaval in Bangladesh last year, the Gen Z uprising is not just a reaction to censorship, but a response to the broader fear of state overreach and the shrinking of civic space.

What has happened in Nepal is a warning to other democracies to tread carefully with efforts to contain online expression. The Nepalese government attempted to control the information ecosystem and lost control of the state itself. The challenge now is whether this energy can be channeled into a sustainable political alternative, or if it will burn out as quickly as it ignited.