Gen Z Revolutions
In 2025, Generation Z led protests and revolutions that occurred in Nepal, the Philippines, Indonesia, and Madagascar, and many more restructured their nations' government and power...
Part I: Introduction
Generation Z has always been a juxtaposing dilemma: anxious but ambitious, tech-addicted yet socially aware, a digital generation who still loses themselves on the internet. When we truly observe Gen Z, however, it will not be difficult to see what simmers below the surface: a desire to leap beyond a future plagued by political stagnation.
Most generations grew up listening to the same story: work hard, play hard. Be patient, and eventually you’ll succeed. But the world Gen Z stepped into made finding work harder than ever, barriers higher than ever, and opportunities distributed with a kind of selective generosity that made the story feel like an inside joke. So, they did what this generation is known for. They questioned the premise.
Why should there be only one repetitive path upward?
Why should the gate to success remain where previous generations placed it?
The chain of recent protests wasn’t rebellion for rebellion’s sake. It was a collective realisation that the old systems no longer worked. It was a reawakening from previous years that they needed to revert back to inspiring to change because the system was not for them, not for their elders, and not for the countries trying desperately to move forward.
When the spark for change was ignited, it didn’t come from a parliament or a boardroom. It began online.
(Mohamed 2025)
Part II: Nepal’s 2025 Revolution
Nepal’s 2025 revolution didn’t begin with a manifesto, a party, or even a leader who spearheaded all of this. It began with a singular post: a lavish Christmas-tree-shaped display made from luxury goods, from Cartier to Louis Vuitton, it glittered with brand names and fairy lights. It was a Christmas tree meant to impress.
It didn’t.
The reaction was instant and undeviating. Young Nepalis, where more than 20% of whom struggle with both poverty and unemployment, questioned the validity of the Thapa family’s source of wealth, raising alarms of corruption. Reposting the photo under #NepoBaby, many demanded to know how political elites had amassed astronomical wealth. For days and months, the image spread like wildfire.
Then, on 4 September 2025, the government announced a ban on 26 major social media platforms. Kathmandu’s justification was to curb misinformation, but to Gen Z, it felt like a digital bottleneck, a way to silence previous voices and unethically consolidate power only when they spoke loud enough to be heard.
The government thought that they would follow the orders. Instead, they protested and revolted.
By 8 September, thousands of young people, many in their school uniforms, gathered at Maitighar Mandala and the federal parliament in central Kathmandu. The protests began with chants, banners, and hopeful slogans for change and marched in solidarity. They quickly descended into chaos as police launched tear gas, water cannons, rubber bullets, and ultimately live ammunition.
But something astonishing happened: the crowd didn’t disperse. They reorganised.
Whilst the government tried to silence the young generation with a nationwide curfew, the youth leveraged it against the government and fought back. What older generations learned to do with walkie-talkies and pamphlets, Gen Z managed with Discord threads and shared Google Docs.
The government disbanded in less than 48 hours, and the military remained as the final force to mediate between the protestors and the old government. Then came the moment no one predicted. 5 days after the original protests, Nepal held a national vote on Discord. In a makeshift but efficient voting system, Sushila Karki was sworn in under Article 61 of the Constitution of Nepal, becoming an interim prime minister, both the first female prime minister and Nepal’s first prime minister, unanimously approved by its citizens.
It wasn’t a textbook revolution.
It wasn’t polished nor fully legal.
But for once, it was theirs. It made them proud.
Nepal became proof that when the gates to success refuse to open, Gen Z will simply build a new gate in the fence.
Part IV: Madagascar Far across the Indian Ocean, Madagascar’s Gen Z watched these movements unfold with growing recognition. Their president, Andry Rajoelina, had promised progress for over 15 years. He promised more jobs, cleaner water, and economic growth for the world’s fifth-poorest nation. But more than a decade later, poverty still loomed large as GDP per capita barely grew, youth unemployment increased by 35%, and more than half of the population still lack basic sanitation. For young Malagasies, this is a lie that can no longer continue. Inspired by Nepal and #SEAblings, they formed Gen Z Madagascar, another leaderless yet remarkably coordinated movement. Their tools were another familiar set: Discord channels, shared documents, anonymised communication, and mass livestreams. And like their counterparts in Southeast Asia, they chose the pirate flag to represent their cause. However, they reimagined the anime flag with a Malagasy twist. The skull wore a pink and green satroka bucket hat, a symbol of the Betsileo ethnic group native to Madagascar. It felt local, proud, and for once, theirs. They marched across Antananarivo, not commanded by a singular leader but inspired by a shared consciousness. Something had to change, and they were tired of being ignored. When the presidency finally fell, it wasn’t because another party usurped power. Instead, it was the cries of a generation that refused to let Malagasy decadence linger on.
Part III: Southeast Asia
Revolutions rarely stay at home anymore. With the rise of globalisation, helped by the internet, Youth in the Philippines and Indonesia, both grappling with high youth unemployment and painfully familiar cycles of corruption in their respective countries, watched Nepal’s revolution with a mixture of shock and inspiration.
The internet not only planted the seeds of protest within the minds of the young adults, but the internet helped them taste true unity for a just cause they sought to change. Bonding under #SEAblings, a play on “Southeast Asian siblings”, they rode on the wordplay as a method to pull frustrated and struggling youths together, telling them that they are not alone in their frustration.
Ultimately, their movements weren’t identical to Nepal’s. Each country had slight variations in their own historical background and their issues of concern (when Nepal focused on clashing back against the elites, Indonesia worried about environmental erosion and the Philippines worried about human rights violations). Though the tone remained united, young people are tired of empty promises and are ready to craft their own future. Staying true to crafting their own future, Gen Z chose an unconventional symbol that blended rebellion with pop culture: the signature pirate flag from the Anime One Piece.
The skull-and-bones wearing a straw hat wasn’t merely an aesthetic choice. Instead, its meaning resided in the plot of the show, where the flag resembled freedom and resistance against corrupt authorities.
In the Philippines and Indonesia, truck drivers who barely made enough to scrape by rallied behind the flag. Students and gig workers raised it at street marches and campus sit-ins. Digital activism was at an all-time high with different sectors: nurses, teachers, drivers, factory workers, and farmers, all rallying as a figurative pirate under oppressive regimes, discovering their voice and echoing it across the seas.
(Ratcliffe 2025)
Part IV: Madagascar
Far across the Indian Ocean, Madagascar’s Gen Z watched these movements unfold with growing recognition. Their president, Andry Rajoelina, had promised progress for over 15 years. He promised more jobs, cleaner water, and economic growth for the world’s fifth-poorest nation. But more than a decade later, poverty still loomed large as GDP per capita barely grew, youth unemployment increased by 35%, and more than half of the population still lack basic sanitation.
For young Malagasies, this is a lie that can no longer continue. Inspired by Nepal and #SEAblings, they formed Gen Z Madagascar, another leaderless yet remarkably coordinated movement. Their tools were another familiar set: Discord channels, shared documents, anonymised communication, and mass livestreams.
And like their counterparts in Southeast Asia, they chose the pirate flag to represent their cause. However, they reimagined the anime flag with a Malagasy twist. The skull wore a pink and green satroka bucket hat, a symbol of the Betsileo ethnic group native to Madagascar. It felt local, proud, and for once, theirs.
They marched across Antananarivo, not commanded by a singular leader but inspired by a shared consciousness. Something had to change, and they were tired of being ignored. When the presidency finally fell, it wasn’t because another party usurped power. Instead, it was the cries of a generation that refused to let Malagasy decadence linger on.
Part V: Conclusion
It would be easy to dismiss these movements as impulsive or chaotic. And yes, they were unconventional to say the least. Yes, perhaps they were improvised; they were built on Reddit tags, fandom symbols, and group chats rather than on formal political structures or discourse. But maybe that’s the point.
Gen Z refused to follow the framework they were told to abide by. They’re building a new gate for prosperity. A gate founded online, of leaderless coordination, of cultural symbols repurposed into political tools, fostering solidarity. Where older generations saw decay or danger, Gen Z saw opportunity, cracks through which light might finally enter. It’s too early to know what these movements will look like a decade from now. Revolutions, after all, are easier to ignite than to sustain. But this much is clear: Gen Z is not waiting. Not for permission, not for tradition, and not for a world that refuses to change.