{ "article": { "title" : "The Culture of Artificial Intelligence", "author" : "Sinead Bovell, Céline Semaan", "category" : "interviews", "url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/sinead-bovell-on-ai-artifial-intelligence", "date" : "2025-07-20 21:35:46 -0400", "img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/sinead-bovell-headshot.jpg", "excerpt" : "Céline Semaan: It is being reported that AI will make humans dumber than ever, that it is here to rule the world, and to subjugate us all by bringing on a climate apocalypse. Being an AI and tech expert, how can you help people better understand AI as a phenomenon that will impact us but that we shouldn’t necessarily fear?", "content" : "Céline Semaan: It is being reported that AI will make humans dumber than ever, that it is here to rule the world, and to subjugate us all by bringing on a climate apocalypse. Being an AI and tech expert, how can you help people better understand AI as a phenomenon that will impact us but that we shouldn’t necessarily fear?Sinead Bovell: It depends on where you are… in the Global North, and particularly in the US, perspectives on artificial intelligence and advanced technologies are more broadly negative. When you look at regions in the Global South, when you look at regions in Asia, AI is seen in a much more positive light. Their societies tend to focus on the benefits new technology can bring and what it can do for their quality of life. The social media ecosystem thrives on negative content, but it really does depend on where you are in the world as to how negatively you’re going to view AI. When it comes to the actual fears and the threats themselves, most of them have some validity. Humans could become less intelligent over time if they’re overly reliant on artificial intelligence systems, and the data does show that AI can erode core cognitive capacities.For example, most of us can’t read maps anymore. If you are in the military and your satellite gets knocked down and you need to understand your coordinates, that might be a problem. But for the average person, not reading a map has allowed us to optimize our time; we can get from A to B much more quickly. What do we fill the time with that AI gives us back with? That’s a really important question.Another important question is: How do we purposely engineer cognitive friction into the learning and thinking environment so we don’t erode that core capability? That’s not something that is just going to happen. We are humans, we take the path of least resistance, like all evolutionary species do. If you look at the printing press, the chaotic abundance of information eventually led to the scientific method and the peer review. Educators, academics, scientists, and creators needed to figure out a way to sort through the valuable information and the nonsense, and that led to more cognitive friction. Those pathways haven’t been developed yet for AI. How we use and assimilate AI depends on the actions we take when it comes to the climate apocalypse, for instance. As of now, how AI uses water and energy is nothing short of a nightmare. However, it’s not really AI in isolation. It’s our social media habits in general. When you look at them in aggregate and globally, our digital habits and patterns aren’t good for the climate in general. And then AI just exacerbates all of that.AI is not a technology that you are going to tap into and tap out of. It’s not like Uber where maybe you don’t use the app because you would prefer to bike, and that’s the choice that you make. AI is a general-purpose technology, and it’s important that we get that distinction, because general-purpose technologies, over time, become infrastructure, like the steam engine, electricity, and the internet. We rebuild our societies on top of them, and it’s important that we see it that way, so people don’t just unsubscribe out of protest. That only impedes their ability to make sure they keep up with the technology, and give adequate feedback and critiques of the technology.Céline Semaan: I recently saw you on stage and heard your response to a question about whether AI and its ramifications could be written into an episode of the TV show Black Mirror. Would you be able to repeat the answer you gave?Sinead Bovell: The stories we see and read about AI are usually dystopian. Arguably, there are choices we continue to make over and over again that we know will lead to negative outcomes, yet we don’t make different choices. To me, that’s the real Black Mirror episode… can we rely on ourselves? In some circumstances, we continually pick the more harmful thing. Most of the big challenges we face are complicated but not unsolvable. Even with climate, a lot of the solutions exist, and actually most of them are grounded in technology. What isn’t happening is the choice to leverage them, or the choice to subsidize them so they become more accessible, or the choice to even believe in them. That scares me a lot more than a particular use case of technology. Most of the biggest challenges we face are down to human choices, and we’re not making the right choices.Céline Semaan: Are you afraid of AI taking over the world and rendering all of our jobs useless? How do you see that?Sinead Bovell: There’s AI taking over the world, and that’s AI having its own desire and randomly rising up out of the laptop or out of some robot. I’m not necessarily concerned about that. You can’t say anything is a 0% chance, right? We don’t know. There are so many things you can’t say with 100% certainty. I mean, are we alone the universe? It’s really hard to prove or disprove those types of things. Where I stand on that is… sure allocate research dollars to a select group of scientists who can work on that problem. However, I am quite concerned about the impact AI is going to have on the workforce. We can see the destruction of certain jobs coming. It’s going to happen quickly, and we’re not preparing for it properly. Every general-purpose technology has led to automation and reconfiguration of the shape of the workforce. Let’s look at the first industrial revolution which lasted from approximately 1760-1840. If we were to zoom in on people working in agriculture, by the end of the 19th Century, around 70-80% of those people were doing something different. That is an astounding change. People had jobs, they just looked very different from working on the farm. But what if that happens in seven years rather than 80 years? That’s what scares me. I think the transition will be quite chaotic because it’s going to be quite quick, but it doesn’t have to be. History isn’t a great predictor of the future, but it does give you a lot of examples of what you don’t need to do again.The reason the industrial revolution turned out to be a good thing in the end, in terms of the life we all live, is that, for instance, we have MRIs and don’t have to have our blood drained to see if we’re sick. But people were just left to fend for themselves. It was chaos, and it turned into this kind of every person for themselves. Kind of figure it out. Get to the city. Bring your family. Don’t bring your family. It was really chaotic. How are we going to not repeat that? I don’t know if we are putting the security measures in place to make sure people are protecting that transition.The most obvious one to me is health care in the United States. I don’t know the exact number, maybe it’s around 60% of people, but don’t quote me on that, are reliant on their job for health care. That’s where their insurance comes from. What is going to happen to their insurance if their job goes away or if they transition to being self-employed? How do we help people transition? People don’t even dare go down that road, but those are the types of conversations that need to happen.Céline Semaan: In 10 years from now, will we look at AI as just another super calculator. And we will be asking the same questions that we are asking today, meaning that the change we’re seeking is not necessarily technological, but philosophical and cultural. How do you see that?Sinead Bovell: AI will look like much more of a philosophical, cultural, and social transition than solely a technological one. This is true of a lot of general-purpose technologies.The inventions in technology lead to how we organize our societies and how we govern them. If you look at the printing press, it led to a secular movement and gave power to that engine. You get big social, philosophical, cultural changes, and revolutions in society when you experience this scale of technical disruption. I think we will look back on the AI inflection point as one of the most pivotal transitions in human history in the past couple 100 years. I would say it’s going to be as disruptive as the printing press and maybe steam engine combined. And we made it through both of those. There was a lot of turmoil and chaos, but we did make it through both of those.We are a much more vibrant, healthy society now. We live longer and, relatively speaking, we have much more equality. There is a path where it works out, but we have to be making the decisions to make that happen. However, it’s not practical that a subset of the population makes the decisions on behalf of everyone. And that’s why I think it’s so important for people to get in the game and not see AI as this really technical device or technology, but instead, as a big social, cultural and philosophical transition. Your lived experience qualifies you to participate in these conversations; there’s nobody who can carry the weight of this on their own." } , "relatedposts": [ { "title" : "From Sabra & Shatila to Gaza: The UN’s Century of Failure and the Rise of Alternatives", "author" : "Collis Browne", "category" : "essays", "url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/from-sabra-and-shatila-to-gaza", "date" : "2025-09-16 10:47:00 -0400", "img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/2025_9_16_UN_Genocide_1.jpg", "excerpt" : "On the 43rd anniversary of the massacres committed under Israeli authority at Sabra and Shatila camps in Beirut in 1982, a United Nations Commission Of Inquiry has concluded, as would any rational observer, that Israel has been committing genocide in Gaza since October 2023.", "content" : "On the 43rd anniversary of the massacres committed under Israeli authority at Sabra and Shatila camps in Beirut in 1982, a United Nations Commission Of Inquiry has concluded, as would any rational observer, that Israel has been committing genocide in Gaza since October 2023.This is not news. It could, however, be a turning point, . The UN’s declaration cracks open the conservative West’s long-standing wall of denial about the genocidal intentions and actions of the U.S.–Israel military machine. What happens next matters.A Century of Genocidal IntentFor those who have been watching Palestine with clarity long before 2023, this genocide is not an aberration — it is the project itself. From its inception, every major Zionist leader and Israeli politician has openly articulated the goal of erasing the Indigenous people of Palestine, whether through forced expulsion or mass murder.More than a hundred years of speeches, policies, and massacres testify to this intent. The so-called “War on Gaza” is simply the most visible and livestreamed stage of an ongoing colonial project.The UN’s Empty WordsIs this UN report different? The UN has made declarative statements for decades with no action or enforcement. In 1975, the UN declared Zionism is racism, citing the “unholy alliance” between apartheid South Africa and Israel. Yet Zionists continued to enjoy privileged status across Western institutions. Since 1967, the UN has passed resolution after resolution denouncing illegal Israeli settlements on stolen Palestinian land. Still, the theft continues unchecked. In December 2022, the UN General Assembly demanded Israel end its “unlawful presence” in the Occupied Territories within one year. That deadline expires this week, September 18, 2025. Israel has ignored it completely, as expected — with no consequences. Declarations without enforcement are not justice. They are fig leaves for impunity.What Good Is the UN?The Geneva Convention obliges all states to intervene to stop and punish genocide. Yet no country has deployed forces to resist Israel’s military slaughter in Gaza. No sanctions. No accountability.If the UN cannot stop one of its own member states from carrying out genocide in full public view — in “4K” as the world watches live — then what is the UN for?The Rise of AlternativesThe cracks are widening. The government of China has announced a new Global Governance initiative, already backed by dozens of countries. Without illusions about its motivations, the concept paper at least addresses three of the UN’s structural failures: Underrepresentation of the Global South — redressing centuries of colonial imbalance. Erosion of authoritativeness — restoring the credibility of international law. Urgent need for effectiveness — accelerating stalled progress on global commitments like the UN’s 2030 Agenda. The question is not whether the UN will reform. It is whether it can survive its own irrelevance.Toward a New Global OrderFrom Sabra and Shatila to Gaza, the UN has failed to prevent — or even meaningfully resist — genocide. Its reports and resolutions pile up, while the graves in Palestine multiply.If the international body tasked with “peace and security” cannot act against the most televised genocide in history, then the world has to ask: do we need a new United Nations? Or do we need to build something entirely different — a system of global governance that serves the people, not the powerful?" } , { "title" : "France in Revolt: Debt, Uranium, and the Costs of Macron-ism", "author" : "EIP Editors", "category" : "essays", "url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/france-in-revolt", "date" : "2025-09-14 22:39:00 -0400", "img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/Bloquons-Tout.jpg", "excerpt" : "France is burning again—not only on the streets of Paris but in the brittle foundations of its political economy. What began as a mass revolt against austerity and public-service cuts has become a national convulsion: roads blocked, train stations occupied, workplaces shut down under the call to “Bloquons Tout” (Let’s Block Everything). The collapse of François Bayrou’s government is only the latest symptom. At the root of the crisis is a political project: Macronism—the steady, decade-long tilt toward pro-business reforms, tax cuts for the wealthy, and austerity by default—that has hollowed out public revenue and narrowed citizens’ options.", "content" : "France is burning again—not only on the streets of Paris but in the brittle foundations of its political economy. What began as a mass revolt against austerity and public-service cuts has become a national convulsion: roads blocked, train stations occupied, workplaces shut down under the call to “Bloquons Tout” (Let’s Block Everything). The collapse of François Bayrou’s government is only the latest symptom. At the root of the crisis is a political project: Macronism—the steady, decade-long tilt toward pro-business reforms, tax cuts for the wealthy, and austerity by default—that has hollowed out public revenue and narrowed citizens’ options.Tax Cuts, Corporate Giveaways, and Rising DebtSince Emmanuel Macron took office in 2017, his administration rolled out a suite of pro-market reforms: the abolition of the broad wealth tax (ISF), replaced by a narrower property wealth tax (IFI); a sustained reduction of the corporate tax rate to about 25%; and a raft of tax measures framed as competitiveness fixes for companies and investors. Economists now estimate that Macron’s tax cuts account for a significant share of France’s rising public debt; his reforms helped widen deficits even before pandemic and energy-shock spending pushed them higher. Today France’s public debt sits near 113–114% of GDP, and ratings agencies and markets are watching closely. (Le Monde.fr)These policies did not produce the promised boom in broadly shared prosperity. Investment did not surge enough to offset lost revenue, and growth remained sluggish. The political consequence was predictable: when the state has less to spend, the burden of balancing budgets falls on cuts to pensions, healthcare, and social programs—measures that overwhelmingly hurt working-class and vulnerable communities. (Financial Times)Pension Reform, Social Fracture, and the Limits of ConsentMacron’s government pushed a controversial pension reform—raising the retirement age from 62 to 64—which sparked nationwide strikes and mass protests in 2023. The reform illustrated a defining feature of Macronism: when public consent falters, the state still presses forward with market-oriented restructuring, deepening social fracture and anger. The pension fight didn’t create the crisis so much as expose it. (Al Jazeera)Colonial Hangover: Uranium, Energy, and GeopoliticsFrance’s energy model has long rested on nuclear power—once a source of national pride for its emission-free nature, and geopolitical independence. Behind that story, however, is another: the colonial era’s extraction of uranium in places like Niger, where French companies (notably Orano/former Areva) secured resource access under unequal terms. As Niger reasserted sovereignty over its resources after the 2023 coup and pushed back on French access, the illusion of seamless “energy independence” began to crack. Losing preferential access to Nigerien uranium has widened France’s energy insecurity and amplified the fiscal squeeze: higher energy costs, the need to secure new supply chains, and political pressure to maintain subsidies for households. The politics of extraction are now returning home. (Le Monde.fr)Climate, Austerity, and the Moral EconomyAdd the climate emergency to the mix—record heatwaves, floods, and wildfires—and the picture becomes even more bleak. Infrastructure strain and rising costs of climate adaptation demand public investment, yet the government’s posture has been to trim and reprioritize spending to satisfy markets. In practice, that means the people least responsible for climate harm—low-income communities, migrants, and precarious workers—are asked to pay the price. The result is a moral and political rupture: climate vulnerability plus fiscal austerity equals radicalized grievance. (Financial Times)A Convergence of FailuresThis is why the current uprising cannot be reduced to a single grievance. It is the convergence of multiple failures: Economic: tax policy that favored the wealthy while starving the public purse; rising debt and cuts that fall on the poor. (Financial Times) Colonial: the unraveling of extractive arrangements that once propped up French energy and power. (Le Monde.fr) Ecological: climate shocks that amplify social need even as public services are stripped back. (Financial Times) The revolt has therefore drawn a broad constituency—students, unions, public-sector workers, and neighborhoods long marginalized by austerity. It is not merely a labor dispute; it is a crisis of legitimacy for a model of governance that privatized gains and socialized pain.What Macronism Tells Us About the Global MomentFrance is a cautionary tale for democracies worldwide. When political leaders prioritize tax breaks for capital and cut public goods to placate markets, they borrow political stability against the future. The bill eventually comes due—in rising debt, in weakened social cohesion, and in violent backlash. Where resource dependencies meet neoliberal retrenchment, the risk of social rupture grows.Three Questions for What Comes Next Will the French state return to a redistributive project—taxing wealth, reclaiming revenues, and investing in climate resilience—or double down on austerity? Can movements translate street power into institutional change that addresses colonial legacies (resource sovereignty) as well as domestic inequality? Will climate policy be woven into social policy—so that adaptation and justice go hand in hand—or will they remain separate priorities, deepening vulnerability? France stands at a crossroads: continue a model that funnels benefit to capital while exposing citizens to climate and economic shocks—or imagine a social contract rooted in redistribution, de-colonial resource politics, and ecological justice. The choice will not be made in the Élysée alone. It is being argued in the streets, in workplaces, and across borders where the costs of extraction were first paid.Everything is Political—and in France today, that truth has never been clearer." } , { "title" : "Nepal’s New Reckoning", "author" : "Tulsi Rauniyar", "category" : "", "url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/nepal-reckoning", "date" : "2025-09-11 18:11:00 -0400", "img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/nepal1-IMG_5694.jpg", "excerpt" : "From September 8-11, 2025, a massive popular uprising has taken place in Nepal, forcing the resignation of the Prime Minister and much of the government. We present some description and first reflections on the protests and riots, which were sparked by a social media ban and anger over government corruption and nepotism.", "content" : "From September 8-11, 2025, a massive popular uprising has taken place in Nepal, forcing the resignation of the Prime Minister and much of the government. We present some description and first reflections on the protests and riots, which were sparked by a social media ban and anger over government corruption and nepotism.September 8In the white glare of a late summer morning, the broad avenues of Kathmandu, Nepal’s modern capital, are usually thrumming with traffic and smog. But on this sweltering day, the streets were crowded with chanting protesters, all of them demonstrating against the government of KP Sharma Oli. The largest crowd by far was made up of Gen-Z youth, most in their twenties, many still in school and college uniforms.For Nepal, such eruptions aren’t new: generations have risen before—against Rana autocrats in the 1950s, against royal rule in 1990, against King Gyanendra’s coup in 2005—only to watch hard-won freedoms erode. But for many of the protestors I spoke to, this was likely their first gathering. Their mission, organised on Instagram, Facebook, and Discord, was grand. They had gathered to protest the dismal state of the country, where the powerful and their children lived in luxury while countless Nepalis laboured abroad in countries like Qatar, Saudi Arabia, and Malaysia, sending remittances home to sustain their families. They marched in loose coordination, some singing protest songs, others dancing to drumbeats, and many chanting slogans. Handmade signs bore slogans carefully daubed in black paint.The last straw had come days earlier when the government imposed a blanket ban on social media platforms, cutting off main channels through which young Nepalis expressed frustration and organised politically. Tensions were already high, fueled in part by viral chatter about “nepo-babies,” the young faces that have long been symbols of privilege fast-tracked into positions of power because of their family connections. For Nepal’s youth, social media became a stage to mock them, question their merit, and call out a system where politics often feels like a family business.As the protesters pushed past the barricades outside Parliament, the police unexpectedly fell back rather than delivering the usual baton charge. A few tear gas canisters hissed through the air, and a lone water cannon swept the crowd, but the confrontation seemed restrained. People snapped selfies amid the haze, their chants echoing off the old brick walls, and for a brief moment, it felt almost ordinary, as if the protest might remain just another turbulent day in Kathmandu.According to reports, a cluster of older men mumbled about storming Parliament, while a few young riders, adrenaline surging, tore recklessly through the crowd on motorbikes, shouting insults. Near the complex itself, the energy shifted, protesters began hammering at the outer walls, some scrambling up the gates as flames flickered near the main entrance. The Armed Police Force advanced, their body armour and riot shields glinting under the dimming light, first launching tear gas canisters, then rubber bullets. In moments, the demonstration’s creative, almost celebratory tone disintegrated. Rocks and debris flew back toward the police lines. Gunfire—allegedly live rounds—cracked above the din. Chaos engulfed Kathmandu’s political heart.Videos soon flooded social media of unarmed students in school uniforms bleeding from head wounds, men collapsing unconscious, and disturbing claims that security forces had even fired tear gas into hospital grounds and beat the injured. What began as students chanting against corruption was quickly slipping into something far more volatile.By nightfall, nineteen people were dead in Kathmandu—a toll that already exceeded the casualties from Nepal’s 2006 People’s Movement, which had taken nineteen days to claim thirteen lives. Hospitals across the capital struggled with hundreds of injured protesters, many still in school uniforms. Blood banks reported critical shortages as medical staff worked through the night, treating gunshot wounds and head injuries from what had begun, just hours earlier, as a peaceful demonstration. Across the rest of Nepal, deaths and injuries were also reported, though full numbers remain unrecorded as events continue to unfold.The scale of the violence was unprecedented in Nepal’s modern democratic history. Even during the monarchy’s final, desperate attempts to maintain power nearly two decades earlier, the state had not deployed lethal force with such devastating efficiency against its own citizens. For a generation that had known only the republic, however flawed, the sight of young people bleeding in the streets represented a profound rupture in their understanding of what their government was capable of.To understand why thousands of teenagers and twenty-somethings would brave tear gas and rubber bullets, one must consider a long history of frustrated hopes for reform. Nearly two decades after the civil war ended, Prachanda, the former Maoist insurgent, once seemed a beacon of change. Millions voted for him, hoping for a fairer voice for the marginalised, a more just Nepal. But hope gave way to compromise, personal gain, and the slow churn of the same familiar leaders. The constitution, progressive on paper, was watered down. A new constitution, progressive in Nepal’s historical context, was stalled and diluted, and subsequent elections delivered a familiar cycle. The same discredited leaders rotating through power, swapped like pieces on a chessboard, their promises of reform fading with each turn.Public services remain poor. Tax burdens are high. Corruption scandals implicating politicians, bureaucrats, and businessmen piled up like grim milestones in the failure of the state. For decades, Nepal’s elites had looted land, siphoned public funds, and promised reforms that never came, leaving ordinary citizens disillusioned.It is this long pattern of systemic rot that now fuels the anger spilling onto Kathmandu’s streets—the young protesters demanding, in word and in action, that Nepal finally deliver on the change that generations have been promised but never seen.September 9The smell hit you first—acrid smoke from burning tires laced with petrol, hanging in Kathmandu’s September air like a toxic fog. Dawn on September 9th brought no respite. If anything, the deaths of nineteen protesters had transformed grief into something more volatile. Thousands defied hastily imposed curfews, emerging into streets still lingering with smoke from the previous day’s violence. What had begun as a youth-led movement against corruption now metastasised into something broader and more destructive—an utter rejection of Nepal’s political establishment.The targets were systematic. Party offices, politicians’ residences, and government buildings all came under attack. By afternoon, thick columns of smoke rose across the Kathmandu Valley, and the tint in the sky shifted from clear blue to a smoky haze that hung over the entire capital. Tribhuvan International Airport suspended operations, diverting flights as the capital descended into chaos. In the newer ministerial quarters south of the city, helicopters shuttled back and forth, evacuating officials in what appeared to be a tacit admission that the government could no longer hold pressure.The political collapse was swift and total. Ministers resigned in cascading waves, following the home minister, who had tendered his resignation the previous evening. Opposition parliamentarians abandoned their posts en masse, demanding fresh elections. By three o’clock in the afternoon, even K.P. Sharma Oli, in his third stint as prime minister and renowned for his political durability, announced his resignation and fled to Dubai.But resignation could not restore order. As the day moved, things spiralled completely out of control.This was no longer the Gen Z protestors of the previous day. In their place, an unruly mob surged through the streets. Outside Singha Durbar, Kathmandu’s sprawling government hub, protesters smashed windows, looted buildings, and seized weapons from the police as they pushed deeper into the complex. In the chaos, prisoners were freed, fires consumed the President’s residence, the Supreme Court alongside Parliament, and police stations burned alongside shops. The line between symbol and target had vanished. In just forty-eight hours, Nepal had witnessed its bloodiest civil unrest in modern memory, and the civilian government had unravelled before the nation’s eyes.“This is not us,” the Gen-Z groups leading the movement, Hami Nepal, posted on their social media. “Our struggle is for justice, dignity, and a better Nepal, not for chaos and theft.”Only well into the night, the Army chief appeared, urging restraint and calm. The military would be deployed to restore order.September 10All this upheaval would have been unimaginable even a month ago.A heavy, almost unnatural silence hung over the city. Curfew had been imposed, the streets were empty, and the Army patrolled in rigid lines. The roar of burning tires, the chants that shook walls, and the smoke that had choked the air yesterday had faded, leaving only a lingering haze and the metallic tang of uncertainty. Sunlight struggled through the smog, casting the streets in a dim, uneasy glow. The city felt suspended, caught between yesterday’s chaos and whatever tomorrow might bring, and we awoke with nothing but questions and the weight of uncertainty pressing down on every corner.The Nepal Army still mans checkpoints across Kathmandu, its soldiers stationed at every major intersection. Any gathering of more than a handful of people is broken up, an officer steps forward, offers an unmistakable “move on,” and the cluster dissolves.Questions hung in the air with the smoke. Who would answer for the bloodshed? Who now held authority? And in the absence of clear leadership, how would life move forward? The deaths of more than thirty protesters could not go unanswered. Yet even among those who had demanded change, the scale of destruction stirred unease. Nobody could say who truly held power, or what would come next.The revolution’s fever has broken; now comes the harder, less visible work. The only institutions left standing, the Presidency and the Army, have invited Gen-Z representatives to the table to sketch a path forward. But even in these early overtures, the Army’s hand is visible, its preferences for who might lead flickering through measured, strategic negotiation.Gen-Z in Nepal remains unmoored, bound more by digital fluency than by shared leadership or vision. Amid the chaos of Discord debates and clashing ideas, the movement is experimenting with ways to assert influence in a leaderless uprising. On a bustling Discord server, young protesters held their own vote for an interim leader, selecting Sushila Karki, Nepal’s first female Chief Justice. The proposal followed an extensive discussion on the platform, lasting nearly five hours, where over 10,000 participants shared their opinions. The server buzzed with debate, dissent, and deliberation, a digital agora where ideas clashed and alliances formed, revealing both the potential and uncertainties of a leaderless uprising. Other names, such as Balen Shah, Kathmandu’s independent mayor who rose from rapper to reform-minded politician, and Harka Sampang, Dharan’s grassroots-focused mayor, also surfaced in discussions, signalling the generation’s appetite for leaders who break from the recycled elite and embody accountability, visibility, and boldness. Though no formal appointment has been made, these debates offer a glimpse of a generation seeking new pathways, negotiating authority and vision in real time.This is the third great convulsion to shake South Asia since 2022—after Sri Lanka and Bangladesh—prompting some observers to whisper of a ‘South-Asian Spring,’ a phrase that carries the echo of the Arab Spring’s long shadow. The Nepali youth-led uprising has even borrowed the aesthetics of dissent from Indonesia as protesters waved the Straw Hat Pirates flag from One Piece, an emblem that has become a shared shorthand for rebellion in both countries. In Bangladesh, Sheikh Hasina’s government fell to similar youth-led protests just months earlier; in Sri Lanka, the 2022 uprising forced out the Rajapaksa dynasty. The same fault line ran across the region, crooked governments, restless citizens, and revolt spread across borders.Yet across and within these territories, the road ahead remains murky, the outcomes anything but certain. Bangladesh’s interim government struggles to reform entrenched systems. Sri Lanka’s new leadership has already retreated from promises that once stirred hope. These movements have excelled at toppling regimes but have struggled to build lasting alternatives.Nepal now faces the same daunting test its neighbours have confronted, struggling to turn a swell of popular fury into durable political reform rather than merely swapping one weary cadre of power brokers for another. Whether this generational uprising can finally crack the cycle of disappointment that has long defined South Asian politics, or whether it will join the list of movements that changed everything and nothing at all.September 11By Thursday morning, steady rain slicked Kathmandu’s streets, but the scars of upheaval were impossible to miss. Charred cars leaned against curbs, and the husks of looted buildings smouldered faintly under the drizzle. The capital was calm, almost eerily so, yet the quiet felt provisional, like a held breath. With the prime minister and his cabinet gone, Parliament effectively leaderless, and ministries shuttered, Nepal now stands without a functioning civilian government. The President and the Army, the only intact institutions, continue to act as de facto authorities, signalling interest in forming an interim arrangement. The old guard has vanished, leaving a power vacuum that multiple actors with competing interests are eager to fill. Political parties that seemed fractured just days ago are quietly regrouping, issuing statements of solidarity with Gen Z to distance themselves from their past complicity. Opportunists linger in the shadows, hoping to redirect the uprising’s momentum for personal gain. At the same time, misinformation spreads online, clouding clarity and amplifying confusion. Former Chief Justice Sushila Karki is seen as a frontrunner. Still, no consensus has been reached among protest groups, leaving the country in a state of suspended expectation.The old guard has vanished, leaving a power vacuum that multiple actors with competing interests are eager to fill. Political parties that seemed fractured just days ago are quietly regrouping, issuing statements of solidarity with Gen Z to distance themselves from their past complicity. Opportunists linger in the shadows, hoping to redirect the uprising’s momentum for personal gain. At the same time, misinformation spreads online, clouding clarity and amplifying confusion. After days of silence, Nepal’s President Ram Chandra Paudel issued a statement on Thursday assuring citizens that every effort is being made to navigate the crisis and find a way forward within the constitutional framework. Former Chief Justice Sushila Karki is seen as a frontrunner, but no consensus has been reached among protest groups, leaving the country in a state of suspended expectation." } ] }