The Flashpoint Generation: How Gen Z is Rewriting the Rules of Protest the World Over

This story by  Bibbi Abruzzini and Clarisse Sih originally appeared on Global Voices on November 24, 2025

 When young Nepalis began sharing memes and kickstarting discussions mocking government corruption in April 2025, few in Kathmandu’s political circles took notice. Flash forward to September 2025 and, within days, TikTok reels turned into street marches, Discord threads became strategy meetings.

By the time social media bans were imposed, the movement had already outpaced them, spreading through encrypted servers and proxy networks, uniting thousands under a single mantra: we are here and we will be heard.

This is the new face of protest. From Nepal’s capital to Indonesia’s streets, from Madagascar’s universities to Bangladesh’s squares, Gen Z — a generation of digital natives born roughly between the late 1990s and early 2010s — is rewriting what mobilization looks like. Some words come to mind: fluid, decentralized, irreverent, fast and disruptive, moving their tentacles through networks.

Two constants continue to define them: mastery of digital tools, and a refusal to settle for the status quo.

See Also: Madagascar’s Gen Z-led revolt against power outages and water supply cuts in urban areas

“Young people have effectively leveraged tools such as social media by using them in ways that outpace traditional systems, and the pivotal role it played in uniting youth was evident in the recent protests in Nepal. Young people rallied their peers through memes, reels, and posts on various platforms, including TikTok, Instagram, and Discord, in the process of building a shared political language to articulate their grievances. Frustratingly, for established powers who lack the digital literacy their younger counterparts possess, it proved difficult to fully understand the scope of such a movement as it took shape in various corners of the internet, let alone penetrate or exert control over it,” shares Juria Sato Bajracharya of Global Nation in an interview with Bibbi Abruzzini of Forus.

Young people are demanding transparency, merit-based governance, and decisions made openly, not in smoke-filled rooms.

“Despite its decentralised and leaderless nature, the movement was unified by the strong voice of young people, who shared common, clear priorities: an end to institutional corruption and to the politicization of public institutions. Young people, rooted in a sense of generational solidarity, are refusing to settle for the status quo, instead choosing to forge a future of their own. This has meant reinventing political life: for example, the Nepali Gen Z movement strongly emphasized transparency, with demands for decisions to be made openly and with public knowledge and consensus,” Bajracharya adds.

Nepal: The meme that brought down a government

In Nepal, the spark came from a government attempt to tighten control over free speech as well as civic space and — in an even more destructive move — to restrict social media. Within thirty hours of the first online call to protest, the elected government had fallen in a culmination of thousands of micro-actions.

“The approach to politics has shifted, with a focus on knowledge- and merit-led governance rather than traditional power dynamics,” notes Bajracharya.

Out of the “beautiful chaos” came a new demand for competence. “Over the past month, the political consciousness of young people has undergone a significant transformation.”

Youths push for governance based on knowledge and integrity. Even after the protests subsided, the conversations didn’t. Across TikTok, Facebook groups, and local cafés, young Nepalis continue to debate what they call the Gen-Z Mandate as elections have been announced for March 2026.

An example is the appointment of grassroots digital activist Mahabir Pun, the new Minister for Education, Science, and Technology, who was awarded the Ramon Magsaysay award in 2007 in recognition of his work on providing internet access to rural areas of Nepal with the Nepal Wireless Networking Project.

“A government built on merit and comprising individuals with dependable credentials is, in the eyes of the youth, a government worth believing in,” Bajracharya shares. “Movements like this have already begun reshaping political culture, influencing policy debates, and shifting public opinion.”

As documented by the EU System for an Enabling Environment for Civil Society (EU SEE), the transformative crisis in Nepal also highlights further regional deteriorations in the enabling environment for civil society.

Despite constitutional protections, CSOs in India continue to face surveillance, harassment and increasing legal scrutiny. Sri Lanka remains in a precarious position since President Gotabaya Rajapaksa fled the country in 2022. In neighbouring Bhutan, civil society activities are constrained by bureaucratic red tape, a lack of access to information, and the discretionary implementation of restrictive laws.

In Pakistan, mass convictions of opposition party supporters have had a chilling effect on civil society. The situation in Myanmar is particularly critical. The military junta has halted the NGO distribution of critical HIV, malaria and tuberculosis medications, while travel bans and transport restrictions are on the rise as regional tensions increase.

And while Nepal’s political shift has captured global attention, just across the region, Sri Lanka’s youth have been forging their own path toward democratic renaissance.

It’s not just Gen Z

Kasumi Ranasinghe Arachchige, an integrative researcher, activist and CADE Youth Voices for Digital Rights advocate from Sri Lanka, speaks from within a powerful moment of youth-driven civic awakening in her country.

Sri Lankan young people have a long history of student mobilization and community organizing, but the 2022 Aragalaya marked a historic turning point: a decentralized, digitally enabled, intersectional uprising where thousands occupied streets and public squares demanding accountability, democratic reform and an end to economic crisis.

For Arachchige, what happened was about exclusion and survival. As she explains in an interview with Forus, “it’s not just a Gen Z or it’s not a generation that is asking, it is literally the people who have been neglected, who have been prioritized less, who have not been given basic necessities… access to health, security, water and all the requirements for humans, for civilizations to continue.”

Her grounding in psychology and ecopsychology shapes how she understands the emotional pulse behind today’s movements. Young people, she says, are not imagining climate and economic collapse in abstract terms, they can feel it arriving: “The younger generations are seeing the future, but not as a far-fetched destruction — a very limited and closely coming one.” That proximity, she notes, is why “we see a lot more younger generations, a lot more young people on the streets.”

The Aragalaya also transformed public perception of protest. Drawing from that moment, Arachchige reflects, “these movements were decentralized and that was their strength.” Digital networks offered protection, connection and amplification, allowing ordinary people to step into political agency. She recalls how legal, creative and community support emerged organically from legal support to emotional backups. And crucially, she notes public stigma around protest shifted.

What she sees in Sri Lanka echoes youth movements across Asia and Africa: “We are seeing pockets of protests everywhere.” Across these struggles, she argues, the heart of the fight is not generational branding but systemic change. “It doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a certain generation,” she says. “It’s the request of systems change, asking for social justice, climate justice, and economic justice.”

The most affected by crisis are leading the fight for the future, and they refuse to be dismissed as merely ‘young.’ They are citizens demanding dignity, autonomy, and a livable world.

Madagascar: When inequality and corruption ignite

Thousands of kilometers away, another island nation is shaking. On September 25, 2025, students in Antananarivo, Madagascar, took to the streets over blackouts and water cuts. The protests, driven by worsening living conditions and political corruption, spread like wildfire across Madagascar’s provinces: Diego, Toamasina, Toliara, Mahajanga, Fianarantsoa.

“Joined by nearly a thousand citizens, including many young people from the Generation-Z Madagascar movement, very active on social media, the demonstrators had planned to gather at Democracy Square in Ambohijatovo (a historic site in the capital and also the designated place for the protest). The security forces, however, blocked their advance and resorted to what were deemed disproportionate measures. Tear gas, rubber bullets, and even automatic rifle fire (AK-47 type) were reported,” according to alerts from the EU SEE initiative which monitors an enabling environment for civil society in over 86 countries.

Authorities dismissed them as “student disturbances.” By nightfall, there were nationwide uprisings.

“We were getting back our dignity,” says Morasata Alimana Marc, Vice-president of Madagascar’s civil-society platform PFNOSCM.

On October 13, after weeks of clashes the president fled the country. Parliament was dissolved. An interim military government promised a new start — though history’s warning hung heavy. The country’s crises had become cyclical: 1972, 1990–92, 2002, 2009, and now 2025 according to Erico Randriarimalala, member of PFNOSCM and of the Human Rights Observatory in Madagascar.

“We have the right to speak out when our society is failing us. In Madagascar, our decision-makers are not respecting our basic rights — we are seeing growing restrictions on freedom of expression, and a lack of access to quality education, decent jobs, and policies that address our most fundamental needs. Today, people are even having to protest simply to secure access to water and electricity,” he explains in an interview with Forus.

“Young people are not trusting a system that does not respond to their aspirations, marked by nepotism and corruption. All these phenomena have compounded the frustrations and anger of young people. They have shown their ‘ras de bol’ [feeling fed up] in response to social injustice,” Erico adds. “The youth movement has earned broad public support as everyone wants to see change. We need to listen, trust and co-create with the youth while being mindful of their autonomy.”

Echoing the challenges faced in Madagascar, where citizens are struggling with unequal access to basic services and rights, in Asia, frustration over systemic neglect and social inequality is fuelling grassroots mobilization and public demand for accountability.

They are often sparked by seemingly small incidents that expose systemic injustice as unpacked in the recent Vuka! Coalition Solidarity Dialogue which focused on resistance against corruption and authoritarianism in Asia and the role of youths.
In Indonesia, outrage over MPs flaunting luxury cars and voting themselves massive allowances escalated after a driver was killed by police, mobilising students, gig workers, and unions nationwide. Outrage spilled onto the streets under the hashtag #IndonesiaGelap (“Indonesia in darkness”).

In Bangladesh, protests over job quotas reserved for elites toppled a 15-year authoritarian regime, while in the Philippines, exposure of “ghost” infrastructure projects led to mass demonstrations. It opened a floodgate. Hundreds were arrested, including minors, under dictatorship-era laws. In response, detainees organised from behind bars, forming the Alliance Against Corruption and Police Brutality (ACAB). Upon release, they found unexpected allies.

Learning across borders

The Gen Z rebellion with intergenerational, intersectional and different manifestations of “youths” is global.

In Peru, youth mobilisations against pension reforms have collided with a government increasingly hostile to dissent Law 32301 — giving authorities sweeping powers over NGOs — has muzzled activists just as protests turn deadly.

See Also: From Social Media Ban to Massive Gen-Z Revolution, Nepal Gen Z Protest Turns into Violent Horror with Over 20 Deaths and 100 Injured

“Civil society’s protective role is shrinking as risks grow,” says Carlos Arana from the Asociación Nacional de Centros (ANC). Still, artists, students, and informal workers keep taking to the streets, demanding their voice to be heard and change to occur.

“Young people, regardless of party affiliation or other generations, have consistently called citizens to take responsibility for protest. Their deep attachment to values of justice and equity allows them to intermittently emerge as catalysts for societal change,” adds Josefina Huamán, Executive Secretary of ANC, which is also the secretariat of la Mesa de Articulación de Asociaciones Nacionales y Redes de ONGs de América Latina y el Caribe (a coordinating body for the national associations and networks of NGOs in Latin America and the Caribbean).

On October 15, 2025, various Gen-Z groups mobilized along the main avenues of metropolitan Lima and gathered in a sit-in in front of the Palace of Justice to fight against the violent repression of protests which led to several deaths.

At this point that Gen Z representative Yackov Solano, announced a national — peaceful — strike and mobilisation for November 14, sharing a clear message through a megaphone: “Peru is a beautiful country with great potential; let’s not allow it to be tarnished by people who don’t know how to handle power. As a young person, I regret that [the National Police] are getting their hands dirty with innocents, under a government that is mistreating them. I know they have commanders who don’t know what they’re doing […] We are not their enemies, we are not seeking power, we are simply seeking a cleansing of our country.”

These dynamics resonate across the region, where young people and broader civil society are responding to systemic inequality and government repression.

In Paraguay, a youth-led march organized by members of “Gen Z” in September against impunity, corruption, and the misuse of public resources was met with violence. Despite being peaceful, the event unfolded under a massive police operation involving around 3,000 officers, which the National Police claimed was meant to “accompany the youth.”

According to EU SEE data, the march, promoted on social media, gathered around 300 to 400 participants, including both young people and adults. Early on, attendees reported excessive police controls and the arrest of four individuals. Organisers had previously stated that the demonstration was peaceful, unaffiliated with any political parties or NGOs, and unfunded. They also warned of misleading messages online attempting to misrepresent the nature of the protest, with officers infiltrating WhatsApp, Telegram, and other social media groups.

“What was unusual about this event was the excessive police presence, the heavy-handed repression of protesters at the end of the day, and the large number of detainees held without cause. Another novel aspect was the ‘cyber-policing’ on social media conducted by the authorities prior to the demonstration. Previous citizen mobilisations, such as those in March 2025, had not faced such extreme measures from the police,” civil society representatives from Pojoaju (Asociación de ONG's del Paraguay, the Association of NGOs from Paraguay), shared with Forus and the EU SEE network.

Various movements continue to hit the streets, notably to protest “anti-NGO” laws. On October 23,2025, President Santiago Peña passed Decree 4806 regulating and thereby putting into effect Law 7363 on control, transparency and accountability of Non-Profit Organizations.

This law, dubbed “Anti-NGO Law” or “Ley Garrote” (Stranglehold Law) by civil society, had been enacted in November 2024 and was awaiting subsequent regulation for more than eleven months. The law subjects CSOs to arbitrary state oversight without proper avenues for defense, undermining their autonomy and role in promoting human rights, democracy, and social welfare. CSOs warn about the discretionary control embedded in the law that enables its targeted use against civil society actors critical of the state. The law is seen by civil society as a tool for state surveillance, rather than a transparency mechanism, and could be used to silence opposition voices, especially those critical of the government.

As repression is swift, so are the responses: cross-regional peer forums, civic-rights education campaigns, diplomatic pushes and creation of new spaces to expose hypocrisy between rhetoric and repression.

And now we are seeing how Gen Z’s anger isn’t only about repression; it’s about the climate, about corruption, inequality, and everyday injustice that are the fault lines of the new global discontent.

Despite borders and languages, the movements are starting to learn from one another. Filipino activists share their “people’s lawyer” model with peers. Digital collectives swap security tips and data-verification tools. What looks chaotic from afar is, up close, a growing network of shared strategy. Bridges are being built in real time. The “machinery of repression” is, paradoxically, creating a machinery of solidarity.

[VS]

Suggested Reading: