It was the wedding of the daughter of a Nepalese politician that first angered Aditya. The 23-year-old activist was scrolling through his social media feed in May, when he read about how the high-profile marriage ceremony sparked huge traffic jams in the city of Bhaktapur.

What riled him most were claims that a major road was blocked for hours for VIP guests, who reportedly included the Nepalese prime minister.

Though the claims were never verified and the politician later denied that his family had misused state resources, Aditya’s mind was made up.

It was, he decided, “really unacceptable”.

Over the next few months he noticed more posts on social media by politicians and their children – pictures showing exotic holidays, mansions, supercars and designer handbags.

One photograph of Saugat Thapa, a provincial minister’s son, went viral. It showed an enormous pile of gift boxes from Louis Vuitton, Gucci, Cartier and Christian Louboutin, decorated with fairy lights and Christmas baubles and topped with a Santa hat.

On 8 September, angered by what he had seen and read online, Aditya and his friends joined thousands of young protesters on the streets of the capital Kathmandu.

As the anti-corruption protests gathered pace, there were clashes between demonstrators and police, leaving some protesters dead.

The following day, crowds stormed parliament and burned down government offices. The prime minister KP Sharma Oli resigned.

In all some 70 people were killed.

This was part of a fervour for change that has swept across Asia in recent months.

Indonesians have staged demonstrations, as have Filipinos, with tens of thousands protesting in the capital Manila on Sunday. They all have one thing in common: they are driven by Generation Z, many of whom are furious at what they see as endemic corruption in their countries.

Governments in the region say there is a risk of the protests spiralling into unacceptable violence. But Aditya, like many of his peers, believes it is the start of an era of newfound protester power.

He was inspired by the protests in Indonesia, as well as last year’s student-led revolution in Bangladesh and the Aragalaya protest movement that toppled Sri Lanka’s president in 2022, and he argues that all stand for the same thing: the “wellbeing and development of our nations”.

“We learnt that there is nothing that we – this generation of students and youths – cannot do.”

Much of the anger has focused on so-called “nepo kids” – young people perceived as benefitting from the fame and influence of their well-connected parents, many of whom are establishment figures.

To many demonstrators, “nepo kids” symbolise deeper corruption.

Some of those targeted have denied these allegations. Saugat Thapa said it was “an unfair misinterpretation” that his family was corrupt. Others have gone quiet.

But behind it all is a discontent over social inequality and a lack of opportunities.

Poverty remains a persistent issue in these countries, which also suffer from low social mobility.

Multiple studies have shown that corruption reduces economic growth and deepens inequality. In Indonesia, corruption has been a serious impediment to the country’s development, according to the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime.

Since the start of the year, demonstrations have been held there over government budget cuts and, among other things, worries over economic prospects amid stagnating wages. In August, protests erupted over lawmakers’ housing perks.

Online hashtags circulated – #IndonesiaGelap (Dark Indonesia) and #KaburAjaDulu (Just Run Away First) – urging people to find opportunities elsewhere.

Zikri Afdinel Siregar, a 22-year-old university student living in North Sumatra in Indonesia, protested earlier this month, angered at local lawmakers receiving large housing allowances of 60 million rupiah (£2,670) per month, roughly 20 times the average income.

Back at home in the Riau province, Zikri’s parents have a small rubber plantation and do farm work on other people’s land, earning them four million rupiah (£178) a month.

He has been working as a motorcycle taxi driver to help cover his tuition fees and living costs.

“There are still many people who have difficulty buying basic necessities, especially food, which is still expensive now,” he says.

“But on the other hand, officials are getting richer, and their allowances are getting higher.”

In Nepal, one of the poorest countries in Asia, young people have expressed similar disillusionment at what they see as an unfair system.

Two years ago, in a case that shocked the nation, a young entrepreneur died after setting himself on fire outside parliament.

In his suicide note, he blamed the lack of opportunities.

Days before the protests began in Nepal, the government announced a ban on most social media platforms for not complying with a registration deadline.

The government claimed it wanted to tackle fake news and hate speech. But many young Nepalese viewed it as an attempt to silence them.

Aditya was one of them.

He and four friends hunkered down in a library in Kathmandu with mobile phones and computers, and used AI platforms ChatGPT, Grok, DeepSeek and Veed to make 50 social media clips about “nepo kids” and corruption.

Over the next few days they posted them, mostly TikTok which had not been banned – using multiple accounts and virtual private networks to evade detection. They called their group ‘Gen Z Rebels’.

The first video, set to the Abba song, The Winner Takes It All, was a 25-second clip from the wedding that had enraged Aditya weeks ago, featuring pictures of the politician’s family along with headlines about the wedding.

It ended with a call to action: “I will join. I will fight against corruption and against political elitism. Will you?”

Within a day it had 135,000 views, its reach boosted by online influencers who recirculated it along with other posts, according to Aditya.

Other groups based in Nepal and abroad also created clips, and shared them using Discord.

The gaming chat platform has been used by thousands of protesters in Nepal, where they discuss next moves and suggest who to nominate an interim leader for the country.

In the Philippines too, more than 30,000 people have contributed to a Reddit thread known as a “lifestyle check” campaign, in which many post details about the rich and powerful.

Young people harnessing technology for mass movements is nothing new – in the early 2000s text messaging propelled the second People’s Power Revolution in the Philippines, while the Arab Spring and Occupy Wall Street in the 2010s relied heavily on Twitter.

What’s different now is the sheer sophistication of the technology, with the widespread use of mobile phones, social media, messaging apps and now AI making it easier for people to mobilise.

“This is what [Gen Zs] grew up with, this is how they communicate… How this generation organises itself is a natural manifestation of that,” says Steven Feldstein, senior fellow at the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace.

Technology has also brokered a sense of solidarity among protesters in different countries.

A cartoon skull logo popularised by Indonesian demonstrators has been adopted by Philippine and Nepalese protesters too, appearing on protest flags, video clips and social media profile pictures.

The hashtag #SEAblings (a play on siblings in South East Asia or near the sea) has also trended online, as Filipinos, Indonesians and other nations express support for one another’s anti-corruption movements.

It is true that Asia has previously seen similar waves of political solidarity across the region, from the Myanmar and Philippine uprisings in the late 1980s to the Milk Tea Alliance that began in 2019 with the Hong Kong demonstrations, according to Jeff Wasserstrom, a historian at the University of California Irvine. But he says this time it is different.

“[These days] the images [of protests] go further and faster than before, so you have a much bigger saturation of images of what’s happening in other places.”

Technology has also stoked emotions. “When you actually see it on your phone – the mansion, the fast cars – it just makes [the corruption] seem more real,” says Ash Presto, a Philippine sociologist with the Australian National University.

The impact is especially pronounced among Filipinos, who are among the world’s most active social media users, she adds.

These protests have all led to serious consequences offline. Buildings have burnt down, homes have been looted and ransacked, and politicians have been dragged from their houses and beaten.

The damage to buildings and businesses alone is worth hundreds of millions of US dollars.

More than 70 people were killed in Nepal, and 10 people have died in Indonesia.

Governments have condemned the violence. Indonesian President Prabowo Subianto criticised what he called behaviour “leaning towards treason and terrorism … [and] destruction of public facilities, looting at homes”.

In the Philippines, President Ferdinand Marcos said protesters were right to be concerned about corruption, but urged them to be peaceful.

Meanwhile Philippine minister Claire Castro warned that people with “ill intentions [who] want to destabilise the government” were exploiting the public’s outrage.

Protesters, however, have blamed “infiltrators” for the violence and in Nepal’s case many claim that the high death toll was due to a heavy-handed crackdown by the police (which the government has said they will investigate).

Among it all, governments have also acknowledged the protesters’ concerns and in some cases agreed to certain demands.

Indonesia has scrapped some of the financial incentives for lawmakers, like the controversial housing allowance, as well as overseas trips. And in the Philippines, an independent commission has been set up to investigate the possible misuse of flood prevention funds, with President Marcos promising there would be “no sacred cows” in the hunt.

The question now is, what follows the fury?

Few digital-driven protests have translated to fundamental social change, observers point out – especially in places where problems like corruption remain deeply entrenched.

This is partly due to the leaderless nature of these demonstrations, which on the one hand helps protesters evade clampdowns – but also impedes long-term decision-making.

“[Social media] inherently is not designed for long-term change… you are relying on algorithms and outrage and hashtags to sustain it,” Dr Feldstein points out.

“[Change requires people to] find a way to change from a disparate online movement to a group that has a longer-term vision, with bonds that are physical as well as online.

“You need people to come up with viable political strategies, not just going with a zero-sum, burn-it-all-down strategy.”

This was evident in previous conflicts, including in 2006 when Nepal’s millennials took part in a revolution that ousted the monarchy, following a Maoist insurgency and a decade-long civil war. But the country then cycled through 17 governments, while its economy stagnated.

The previous generation of Nepalese protesters “ended up becoming part of the system and lost their moral ground,” argues Narayan Adhikari, co-founder of Accountability Lab, an anti-corruption group.

“They didn’t follow democratic values and backtracked from their own commitment.”

But Aditya vows that this time will be different.

“We are continuously learning from the mistakes of our previous generation,” he says firmly. “They were worshipping their leaders like a god.

“Now in this generation, we do not follow anyone like a god.”

Additional reporting by Astudestra Ajengrastri and Ayomi Amindoni of BBC Indonesian, and Phanindra Dahal of BBC Nepali

Lead image credit: Ezra Acayan/Getty Images

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