On September 8, when Nepali Gen Zs poured into the streets demanding an end to corruption, greater transparency and accountability from the government, the air was filled with chants and the sight of countless placards and banners. Among them, one symbol stood out: a black flag bearing a grinning skull topped with a straw hat. To millions of anime fans worldwide, it was instantly recognisable—the Jolly Roger from ‘One Piece’.

But in Nepal, as in several other Asian countries, the flag has moved beyond the world of ‘One Piece’. Once carried through the streets, it took on a new meaning—becoming a symbol of freedom and a voice against injustice.

Social media played a key role in spreading the symbol; TikTok and Instagram posts featuring the flag went viral within hours. For many young protesters, the adoption was deliberate—a way to borrow the energy and symbolism of other Asian youth movements while adding a uniquely Nepali flair.

The flag was first used in a similar movement that began in Indonesia in July 2025. In the anime ‘One Piece’, this flag symbolises resistance against unjust rulers, advocating for freedom, and upholding one’s values.

According to Britannica, the Jolly Roger, or a version of it, was most famously flown during the ‘golden age of piracy’, which stretched from the late 1600s to the early 1700s.

The exact origin of the name remains uncertain. At the time, ‘Roger’ or ‘Old Roger’ was a common term for the devil, while ‘roger’ was also used to describe drifters and privateers, often referred to as ‘sea beggars’.

Centuries later, the Jolly Roger has grown into a well-known symbol in pop culture. Its modern association with military strength began during World War I (1914–18), when British submarine crews created their own versions of the flag.

“Jolly Roger flag stands as a symbol against injustice and fighting back against anything unfair,” Indonesian national Panji Tianda, who observed the protest in Indonesia very closely, told the Post. “In ‘One Piece’, the real villains aren’t rival pirate crews but the World Government itself, which is tied to things like slavery, racism and corruption.”

In the series, the antagonists are the government, which constantly discriminates against the people and is controlled by higher institutions that rule the world. “The reason Luffy’s Straw Hat flag is used as a symbol in democracy is because it represents the meaning of struggle and freedom,” Claudio Jafna, an Indonesian residing in Bekasi, told the Post.

The flag’s influence has spread beyond Asia. In France, during protests that began on September 10 against President Emmanuel Macron and the political elite, who proposed spending cuts, demonstrators wearing straw hats were seen carrying hand-drawn versions of the flag along with other symbols from the series.

“Use of the flag in Indonesia surely popularised its use in protests in Nepal as well,” says Anup Karki, a Gen Z youth who participated in the protest on September 8.

But even before that, symbols like the Jolly Roger have been used for revolution.

“The blend of pop culture and protest isn’t new,” says Prayas Rajopadhyaya, a protest participant on September 8, pointing to the use of the Guy Fawkes mask in Occupy Wall Street, the Dali mask and red jumpsuit in France and Brazil protests, and the song ‘Bella Ciao’ as symbols of resistance and freedom.

“Nepal, too, has adapted such influences. A few years ago, a flash mob inspired by the Chilean feminist group LASTESIS’ anthem ‘The Rapist is You’ was translated into Nepali as ‘Balatkari Hos Ta’. Silent marches, black armbands, flash mobs, or songs like ‘Ma Nepal Haaseko Herna Chahanchu’—all show how activism here continues to adapt through both global and local cultural influences. The flag is just another example,” Rajopadhyaya says.

Many see the Jolly Roger flag as a remix of popular and political cultures. This suggests that symbols from entertainment can gain new significance when adopted in political movements.

Barring Gen Z, the manga’s worldwide fame may surprise some, but ‘One Piece’ has been the best-selling series since its debut in 1997, with over 500 million copies sold globally.

Rakshya Bam, one of the few faces leading/facilitating the Gen Z movement, says many youths from the Gen Z watch anime, due to which they are familiar with what the flag represents. “Since it was used in Indonesia, we also used it here because it represents freedom, unity, and the courage to resist oppressive power,” she says.

Asked if the flag was the main reason for the large turnout, Bam notes it was just one factor. “People were already against corruption, the ‘nepo baby’ trend, and other issues—it’s a global symbol that inspired them, but the anger was already there,” she explains.

On the surprising size of the crowd, she explains that social media played a major role. TikTok had been buzzing with trends like ‘get ready with me’ and ‘what’s in my bag’, which made it clear that many young people were planning to show up. Still, she admitted, the sheer scale of the young people’s turnout was beyond what they had imagined.

Not just the young, even the older generation grew curious about the flag and asked what it represented. “The use of such symbols should be regarded positively, as they embody justice. Through this youth-led protest, the voice of the younger generation has now risen above that of political parties,” says 50-year-old advocate Trilok Bahadur Chand.

The shift signals the decline of old beliefs and traditions, reflecting what Chand describes as a postmodern condition. In this context, established political parties are being pushed to move beyond the repetition of ideology and history. To remain relevant, they need to introduce new, popular agendas and promote young leadership—otherwise, they risk gradually fading into obscurity.

Similar uses of the ‘One Piece’ flag have been reported in the Philippines and Thailand, where youth movements have also turned to anime, memes, and digital culture as tools of expression. Comparisons with older protest movements show a clear generational shift: symbols are no longer just slogans or party colours—they are cultural, visual, and interactive.

Pop-culture symbols like this could redefine youth activism, making it more playful, inclusive, and digitally connected. But there is also a risk: trends fade, and the flag could be co-opted or commercialised, diluting its original meaning.