{"id":24783,"date":"2026-09-08T16:15:23","date_gmt":"2026-09-08T10:30:23","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/eng.dragonmedia.com.np\/?p=24783"},"modified":"2026-09-08T16:15:23","modified_gmt":"2026-09-08T10:30:23","slug":"who-called-the-gen-z-movement-official-records-raise-serious-questions-over-claims-of-not-knowing","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/eng.dragonmedia.com.np\/?p=24783","title":{"rendered":"\u201cWho Called the Gen-Z Movement?\u201d Official Records Raise Serious Questions Over Claims of Not Knowing<\/strong>"},"content":{"rendered":"

Dragon Media Correspondent<\/strong><\/p>\n

One year after Nepal\u2019s Gen-Z movement, a new debate has emerged over its origins and leadership. Some individuals identified as prominent figures of the movement now say they do not know exactly who called for the protest. Yet official documents exchanged with the Kathmandu District Administration Office before the demonstration show that at least three separate groups or individuals had formally contacted the administration, specifying the date, time, location and peaceful nature of the programme.<\/p>\n

That creates an uncomfortable question: if organizers existed before the protest, written applications had been submitted, the venue and timing had been fixed, and commitments to peaceful conduct had been made, how did the public narrative evolve a year later into one in which no one appears to know who called the protest?<\/p>\n

Documents made public indicate that Ank\u093f\u0924 Malla, a group associated with Purushottam Yadav, and Hami Nepal Chairman Sudan Gurung had separately communicated with the district administration regarding programmes at Maitighar Mandala on Bhadra 23. Although the proposed starting times differed, the venue was the same. The programmes were described as peaceful, with written assurances that undesirable activities would be avoided and public property would not be damaged.<\/p>\n

These documents do not prove that the entire Gen-Z uprising was created or controlled by a single individual or organization. Broad public dissatisfaction, spontaneous mobilization through social media and parallel activism by different groups may all have contributed to the movement\u2019s expansion. But the administrative record does not support the claim that the Bhadra 23 Maitighar protest emerged entirely without organizers, prior preparation or formal contact with the authorities.<\/p>\n

That is the critical point.<\/p>\n

Twenty-four hours before the protest, the district administration knew about the programme. It knew the location. It had names associated with the applications. It had been told that the demonstrations would be peaceful. Police, the Armed Police Force and Kathmandu Metropolitan City also appear to have been within the circle of official information.<\/p>\n

What happened next?<\/p>\n

That question should now be at the center of any serious investigation into the Gen-Z movement.<\/p>\n

On Bhadra 23 itself, then Chief District Officer Chhabilal Rijal imposed a curfew from 12:30 p.m. in designated areas around New Baneshwar. A protest that had been communicated to the administration as a peaceful programme in the morning had, within a matter of hours, developed into a security crisis serious enough for the authorities to prohibit assemblies, rallies, demonstrations and meetings.<\/p>\n

The short period between the declared peaceful gathering and the imposition of the curfew is arguably the most sensitive chapter of the entire movement.<\/p>\n

What happened during those hours? How did the direction and character of the crowd change? How did a programme centered on Maitighar evolve beyond its declared format? Did unrelated or organized groups enter the demonstration? Did security agencies have advance intelligence about such a possibility? Why did the administration lose control? Were non-lethal crowd-control measures adequately employed? And at what level was the decision to use live ammunition made?<\/p>\n

These questions cannot be answered according to the political convenience of any side.<\/p>\n

The state cannot escape accountability for excessive force, shootings and the deaths of young protesters. If disproportionate force was used against civilians, every level involved in ordering and implementing it must be investigated. The state\u2019s constitutional responsibility is to protect life, and political circumstances cannot be used to legitimize unlawful or unnecessary use of force.<\/p>\n

But investigating state violence cannot become a reason to avoid investigating what happened inside the movement itself.<\/p>\n

If written commitments had been made that the demonstrations would remain peaceful, when and how were those commitments broken? Who redirected the crowd? Who initiated violent activity? Was there infiltration? If so, by whom? Why were the security agencies unable to prevent it?<\/p>\n

Raising these questions is not an insult to the movement. It is a responsibility owed to those who died and were injured.<\/p>\n

The most troubling issue now is the widening distance between the historical record and some contemporary public statements.<\/p>\n

Large movements often develop multiple centers of ownership. Some participants may later distance themselves from leadership roles, while others may claim greater involvement. But history cannot be written solely from memory. What people say they remember one year later is less authoritative than what individuals and organizations formally submitted to the government before the event.<\/p>\n

That is why all official records relating to Bhadra 23 and 24 should be subjected to public scrutiny. Applications submitted to the District Administration Office, Home Ministry correspondence, police deployment orders, security assessments, intelligence reports, coordination with Kathmandu Metropolitan City, curfew orders, crowd-control instructions, communications logs and the chain of command behind the use of firearms should be placed on a single timeline.<\/p>\n

Who knew what, and when?<\/p>\n

That is the question an investigation must answer.<\/p>\n

A government office may burn, but the institutional memory of the state cannot be allowed to burn with it. Even if files at the District Administration Office were destroyed, corresponding records should exist within the Home Ministry, police headquarters, security agencies and other government structures. These are records of the state. They are not the private property of any government, political force or protest group.<\/p>\n

The phrase \u201cNo one started the Gen-Z movement\u201d may be politically attractive, but it cannot be allowed to erase the complexity of the historical record.<\/p>\n

The movement may indeed have expanded spontaneously and become far larger than any initial organizer could control. But the official documents indicate that organized activity preceded the Bhadra 23 protest. That fact must be acknowledged before the larger question can be answered: how did a declared peaceful demonstration transform within hours into violence, gunfire, deaths and ultimately a political upheaval that changed the country\u2019s power structure?<\/p>\n

Until that question is answered independently and credibly, the history of the Gen-Z movement will remain incomplete.<\/p>\n

Respect for the martyrs does not come from speeches. Justice for the injured does not come from memorial days alone. A generation cannot be honored by allowing the truth to disappear.<\/p>\n

One year after the Gen-Z movement, Nepal does not need a new political narrative.<\/p>\n

It needs the old records opened.<\/p>\n

Because the truth of what happened is not preserved only in social media memories.<\/p>\n

It is also preserved in the official archives of the state.<\/p>\n

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