The Himalayan nation of Nepal is on the boil. Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli’s resignation, after one of the deadliest crackdowns in years that left 19 young protesters dead, has plunged the country into political turmoil.
His Bhaktapur residence has been set ablaze, the homes of former prime ministers Pushpa Kamal Dahal “Prachanda” and Sher Bahadur Deuba vandalised, and three of his ministers forced to resign.
Now, reports suggest Oli himself is preparing to flee, possibly to Dubai under the guise of medical treatment, with Himalaya Airlines on standby.
To seasoned observers, none of this feels new. South Asia has seen this script before. From Sri Lanka in 2022 to Bangladesh in 2024, youth-led uprisings have toppled governments, torched the symbols of power, and forced once-dominant leaders to flee in humiliation. Nepal, it seems, is now the third act in this turbulent South Asian trilogy.
From Colombo to Dhaka to Kathmandu
In July 2022, Sri Lanka erupted. Protesters stormed President Gotabaya Rajapaksa’s official residence in Colombo, sending him fleeing to safety. Images of citizens swimming in his pool and cooking in his kitchen captured global imagination. Later that day, the private residence of Prime Minister Ranil Wickremesinghe was set ablaze. Both leaders were forced to resign as the “Aragalaya” (struggle) movement brought down a political dynasty amid the island’s bankruptcy.
Two years later, in August 2024, Bangladesh witnessed its own “Bangla Spring.” What began as student protests against a controversial job quota system escalated into nationwide violence. On August 5, jubilant protesters carrying flags, chanting slogans, and even dancing atop captured tanks stormed Sheikh Hasina’s official residence. By then, Hasina had already fled. Army Chief Waker uz Zaman confirmed her resignation, announcing an interim government would assume power.
According to reports, Hasina’s helicopter landed in Agartala, India, after New Delhi allowed her emergency entry. Protesters ransacked her residence, looting sarees, utensils, and other personal items, celebrating what they called the “reclaiming” of the palace from which “illegal orders to murder citizens” were issued. The scale of violence was staggering: on just one Sunday, 91 people were killed, making it the deadliest day of the uprising. By early August, at least 300 people had died since the protests began in July.
Hasina’s son, Sajeeb Wazed Joy, based in the US, had desperately urged the security forces to prevent the fall of his mother’s 15-year rule. “You must keep our people and country safe and uphold the constitution,” he pleaded on Facebook. But the army, much like in 2007 when it installed a caretaker government, chose to “stand by the people.”
Fast forward to 2025, and Kathmandu now echoes both Colombo and Dhaka. Protesters have torched the homes of top leaders, defied curfews, and filled the streets with cries against corruption and authoritarianism. Oli, once thought unshakable, now finds himself cornered in the same way Rajapaksa and Hasina were.
The youth factor
At the heart of all three uprisings is a restless younger generation. In Sri Lanka, it was the Aragalaya movement, powered by students and unemployed graduates. In Bangladesh, it was university students and job-seekers, furious over a quota system they saw as corrupt and discriminatory. In Nepal, it is Gen Z, nearly 43% of the population, who continue to defy curfews and risk their lives in the streets.
Their demands differ, but their rage is rooted in the same frustrations: unemployment, inequality, corruption, and betrayal by political elites. Social media has been the spark and accelerant. Oli’s attempted ban on platforms like Facebook and YouTube only worsened the fury, just as the digital mobilisation in Bangladesh amplified Hasina’s downfall.
A script that feels too familiar
What makes these crises feel less like organic uprisings and more like orchestrated operations is the striking similarity in their sequence. In Sri Lanka, the trigger was an economic bankruptcy; in Bangladesh, it was the controversial job quota system; and in Nepal, it was the sudden ban on social media. Each of these issues ignited a youth-led revolt-whether it was Sri Lanka’s Aragalaya, Bangladesh’s Bangla Spring, or Nepal’s Gen Z protests. The unrest in all three countries produced spectacles of overthrow: the presidential palace stormed in Colombo, Sheikh Hasina’s residence ransacked in Dhaka, and KP Sharma Oli’s home torched in Bhaktapur.
International NGOs, rights groups, and global media then amplified the narrative by spotlighting state brutality, further fueling the movements. Finally, each crisis ended with a leader on the run. Rajapaksa fled abroad, Hasina is forced into exile in India, and Oli is now preparing to depart for Dubai. The pattern is too neat to dismiss as a coincidence. It resembles a regional playbook of managed chaos, where genuine grievances are weaponised, protests are accelerated, and leaders are toppled in ways that ultimately reshape geopolitics.
Nepal’s geopolitical crossroads
For Nepal, the stakes are uniquely high. Unlike Sri Lanka’s maritime location or Bangladesh’s industrial heft, Nepal is a Himalayan buffer between India and China. Beijing has courted Oli with Belt and Road projects; India has long seen Nepal as part of its natural security perimeter; Washington views Nepal as a potential foothold to check Chinese expansion.
Oli’s fall, therefore, is not just about governance failure. It represents an opening for external players to tilt Nepal’s alignment. The speed and violence of his ouster suggest a larger geopolitical script is being written in the Himalayan theatre.
How India needs to remain vigilant against insurrectionists masquerading as protesters
Oli’s resignation, and likely flight abroad, does not mark an end but a dangerous beginning. Rival parties are scrambling for power, but the structural rot of unemployment, corruption, and inequality remains. Unless these are addressed, Nepal risks falling into prolonged instability, just like what we are witnessing in Bangladesh, where Islamists have taken hold of power, as minorities are subjected to unspeakable atrocities.
For India, the warning could not be clearer. It has already seen Sri Lanka drift under Chinese influence and Bangladesh collapse into chaos. Now Nepal, its closest Himalayan neighbour, is teetering. If New Delhi does not act decisively, it risks ceding space to Beijing and Western-backed actors, just as it did in Dhaka.
From Colombo in 2022 to Dhaka in 2024 and now Kathmandu in 2025, South Asia has witnessed three uprisings that unfolded with eerie similarity. Leaders once thought untouchable have fled in disgrace, residences have been stormed or torched, and youth anger has become the battering ram of regime change.
The world celebrates these as democratic revolutions. But for the region, they represent a cycle of instability and externally influenced transitions. Nepal’s crisis is not an isolated event; it is the latest chapter in a pattern of managed chaos gripping South Asia.
The déjà vu is unmistakable. The real question is whether Nepal, or much of Southeast Asia, including India, can escape the trap of being perpetual pawns in someone else’s geopolitical game.