The Peril of Emotion-Driven Politics: Analyzing Nepal's Recent Unrest Through a Global Lens

Looking at Nepali politics today, an uncomfortable and complex question arises – are we engaged in politics of ideology, principle, and agenda, or in the trade of emotion, anger, and pain? In the early phase of democracy, politics was a struggle of ideas. There were ideological differences between parties, debates on policy, and voters chose their roadmap for the future. 

However, with the advent of the digital age and the omnipresence of social media, politics has transformed into a game of narrative. The winning side is no longer the one with the best policy, but the one that can most intensely 'trigger' humanity's primal emotions – fear, resentment, revenge, and pain. 

The tragic incident of Bhadra 23 and 24 is the most frightening mirror of a new political era. But this mirror is not just Nepal's; it is deeply connected to the scripts of emotional rebellion being used in global politics today.

On the surface, the protest on Bhadra 23 appeared as a spontaneous citizen voice against corruption. The youth carrying placards, the slogans shouted by students, and the atmosphere in Maitighar seemed democratic and legitimate. But as the crowd moved towards Baneshwor, its character clearly changed. 

Most of the youth participating in the protest were genuinely angry – unemployment, corruption, and the drought of opportunities had brought them to the streets. But those youth were not the decision-makers. They were merely users or consumers of the narrative creators. 

The decision-makers were controlling the stage from behind the curtain. Upon reaching Baneshwor, the movement took on a form of 'infiltration'. The discussion was no longer limited to reform; it reached the psychology of 'occupation'. The unconstitutional and anarchic dream of capturing the Parliament building was made a symbol of revolution, and from here, the terrifying script of direct confrontation with the state began. 

A similar scenario was seen in Sri Lanka in 2022. The 'Gota Go Home' movement that started in Colombo was a legitimate outcry against corruption and economic crisis. But from the moment the Presidential Secretariat was captured on July 9, 2022, the movement shifted from citizen resistance to state-less anarchy. 

Eventually, the government fell, but economic stability did not return. Instead, the country fell deeper into debt and the siege of international financial control. Nepal's attempt on Bhadra 23-24 also appears inspired by the objective of paralyzing state institutions in exactly the same manner. 

On Bhadra 23, the security apparatus was forced to retaliate when the police were attacked and protestors entered the Parliament building. Shots were fired, and 21 people lost their lives. But the question is not just 'Why were shots fired?'. The main question is – was this confrontation inevitable? 

As soon as the shots were fired, another narrative was immediately spread – 'Shots were fired from elsewhere too'. Misleading information was spread to create uncertainty rather than to confirm who fired the shots and why. Information was used as a weapon not to calm the crowd, but to further incite it. 

This same strategy has been repeatedly seen in Bangladesh since 2013. Especially in the 2013 'Shahbag' movement and various student movements in subsequent years, the narrative that 'the state is the murderer' was framed so forcefully, rather than the truth of who fired the shots, that it ultimately upset the military-civilian balance. 

In Nepal too, after Bhadra 23, the exact same 'framing' was used to demoralize the security agencies and turn the public against the state. 

Bhadra 24 became a black day in Nepal's modern history. While the initial reports mentioned damage exceeding 84 crore, the actual physical damage was over 45 crore, with 54 deaths and zero presence of the state on the streets. But the damage being done at the psychological level was greater than the physical damage. Social media algorithms poured fuel on the fire. 

The formulas of Silicon Valley firms always prioritize malice, hatred, and extreme emotion because 'engagement' is the main basis of profit for large tech companies. Psychological triggers like 'What if it were your child who died?' completely displaced facts and logic. 

This same algorithm game was widely used in the protests following the death of 'Mahsa Amini' in Iran towards the end of 2022. Legitimate issues of justice and rights were made so extreme through emotional clips, incomplete videos, and trigger phrases that there was no room left for negotiation. As a result, the state became harsher, the movement was suppressed, and the space for genuine reform narrowed forever. 

The arson and looting that occurred in Nepal on Bhadra 24 were the result of the blind rage generated by that same algorithm. 

Physical structures will be rebuilt, but the lives lost will never return. However, a serious question was overshadowed – why did people die? Who incited the mob? Who turned anger into fire? Before a legal answer could be sought for these questions, a verdict was delivered from the streets. 

The Prime Minister and Home Minister were found guilty in the court of the mob. A decision-making process dictated by the streets is not democratic; it is called a mob-run system. The system that adheres to democratic processes is called 'Democracy', whereas the system run by the mob is called 'Mobocracy'. 

Bulgaria suffered exactly this fate from 2013 to 2020. When the anti-corruption movement reached an emotional peak, it brought only political instability, not institutional reform. Governments changed seven times in five years, but corruption and mismanagement remained entrenched. 

All this chaos and anger point towards a specific political destination – the elections scheduled for Falgun 21. This game of converting emotion into votes, proving the state guilty, and positioning oneself as the sole 'savior' is highly strategic. 

This same practice was employed during the political crisis in Madagascar in 2009. There, the government fell on the strength of emotional rebellion, and elections came, but it trapped the country in a vicious cycle of political transition and economic recession for decades. 

In Nepal too, while idealistic Gen Z youth are sacrificing themselves on the streets and in hospitals, the characters hijacking the movement are aiming to climb the ladder of power. This is a global trend – the idealists are sacrificed, and the strategic players ascend to power. 

When trust in state institutions is systematically dismantled and the mob seeks to become the judge, foreign intervention enters under the guise of 'assistance'. History has shown this. This article is not a defense of any government, nor is it a condemnation of any movement. 

It is merely a warning against the planned political exercise of destabilizing the country by weaponizing emotion. The question now is for all of us – will we remain pawns in a narrative woven by algorithms? Or will we understand the depth of reality and make judicious decisions?