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The uprisings in Nepal, Bangladesh, and Sri Lanka all reveal the same underlying dynamic: a critical 5% of society—small but decisive—determines the trajectory of these crises
Flames of discontent
Nepal was recently engulfed in a wave of fierce public unrest that forced the Prime Minister to resign. The uprising left vast destruction in its wake: national assets worth millions were lost, and numerous five-star hotels in Kathmandu were set ablaze. Videos flooded social media, showing enraged crowds dragging politicians through the streets while setting their homes on fire.
Observers quickly drew parallels with Sri Lanka’s “Aragalaya” (Struggle) of 2022. Bangladesh too had experienced a similar upheaval, when its Prime Minister was driven to seek refuge in India.
Despite their differences, these three cases—Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, and Nepal—share one defining feature: deep-seated hostility toward the political class. Anger was directed not only at those in power but also at opposition politicians. In Nepal, as in Sri Lanka, the homes of both government and opposition leaders were torched.
Gen Z: A digital vanguard
Driving Nepal’s movement was the Gen Z generation. The protests were sustained largely by digitally connected youth, some as young as 13 to 23 years old. Many were too young to vote, yet, armed only with smartphones, they became the decisive force behind regime change.
This marked the emergence of a new form of public power—one that goes beyond the ballot box.
In Sri Lanka, for example, there are about 17 million registered voters, with around 14 million typically casting ballots in crucial elections. Yet, an even larger number now shapes discourse and mobilisation through the digital sphere.
These young activists live in a world of dual realities. Online, they wield influence and visibility that make them feel as powerful as royalty. But on the ground, they remain powerless youth confined to village households. Caught between digital empowerment and real-world marginalisation, they experience a constant dissonance—one that easily transforms into anger and hostility.
Nepali youth in particular see the rising wealth of their neighbours as proof of injustice. This sense of inequity, magnified by social media, eventually erupted into open revolt.
The ideology of distrust
What underpins these uprisings is an ideological foundation built on deception and resentment. Across South Asia, societies have been “intoxicated” by a narrative package of lies and hatred.
In Sri Lanka, this mindset was cultivated over 76 years since independence. The belief that politicians were looting the nation’s wealth gradually became an accepted truth, spread widely through social media. Crucially, it cut across all social classes until it hardened into a universal conviction: *“Every politician is a thief.”*
This same ideological drift has now swept through Bangladesh and Nepal. Once societies are armed with such a belief, every politician—regardless of party—is branded as someone who deserves to be attacked. The events in all three countries demonstrate this dangerous progression.
The rise of social ignorance
These movements also show how falsehoods and hatred can make regime change deceptively easy.
In Sri Lanka today, society expects instant development once the old conviction—that “all politicians steal”—is defeated. Frustrated youth, live-streaming global events on their phones, direct their anger at local rulers, refusing to tolerate even the smallest misstep.
Expectations of politicians have also shifted. It is no longer enough for them to avoid corruption. In some quarters, the demand now is that they should own *nothing at all*. This attitude has already created dilemmas for several government ministers. If normalised, it could lead to severe social distortions.
What we are witnessing is a state of collective social ignorance, born of myths that politicians themselves once helped to cultivate. Leaders cannot indefinitely “perform honesty” before such a public, because every inconsistency is instantly exposed. In the end, governments expend most of their energy not on governing, but on escaping the lies of their own making.
Post-truth politics
The critical question now is: where does this lead? Public opinion has become volatile, shifting by the hour. With nearly 24 million mobile phones in use, Sri Lanka now lives with an *extended mind*—a technological consciousness carried in every pocket. Society has fundamentally changed.
Philosophers call this the *post-truth era*. In this age, truth and falsehood are not determined by traditional standards but by the flow of digital narratives. Heroes today can become villains tomorrow with frightening ease.
Guiding such a society toward constructive change will demand an enormous political price. Out of Sri Lanka’s 17 million voters, about 4 million young people now see the world not directly, but through their phone screens. If those screens remain saturated with falsehoods, the nation risks being driven toward ruin.
A warning from Nepal
The uprisings in Nepal, Bangladesh, and Sri Lanka all reveal the same underlying dynamic: a critical 5% of society—small but decisive—determines the trajectory of these crises. Unless this segment is shielded from lies and deception, the possibility of genuine, positive political transformation will remain elusive.
(The writer is a senior academic who previously held the position of Chair Professor at the Department of Philosophy, University of Peradeniya. In addition to his academic career, he has been actively engaged in national development efforts, contributing as both a policy-maker and a political leader. Dr. Herath served as a Member of Parliament from 2010 to 2024, and held several key public positions, including that of Permanent Secretary to the Ministry of Mass Media and Information. He currently serves as the Chairman of Nexus Research Group, a Colombo-based public policy think tank.)