Gen Z activists keep getting put on the spot. Following the success of the movement they spearheaded in early September, there is pressure on them to join politics, contest elections and take their activism to parliament. It is easy to shout from the street, they keep hearing, their real test will begin when they enter national politics.

At the same time, another vocal set of supporters and well-wishers advise these young folks to give continuity to their street activism and keep holding the power to account. If they jump into politics right away, they too could soon turn into the corrupt politicians they earlier decried.

These contradictions were at full display during a recent Gen Z talk show hosted by a group of young souls at Kantipur Media Group. In the gathering organised to discuss the aftermath of the September movement, members of the audience kept peppering Rakshya Bam with such tricky questions—even during the after-event tea.

It isn’t easy for the likes of Bam—a 26-year-old social campaigner from Kalali thrust into the national limelight after the Gen Z revolt—to navigate the choppy waters of post-revolt Nepali politics.

Many of them gained fame, almost overnight, and these young men and women don’t know what to do with it.

Perhaps the most common question they face is: What next for the Gen Z movement? As Bam tried to answer at the KMG event, Gen Z is a broad group, and she cannot be made to answer for all the forces that have emerged to claim affiliation with the movement. There are monarchist Gen Z, Janajati Gen Z, UML Gen Z—you name it! For the same reason, it is inappropriate to talk of a common ‘Gen Z agenda’.

There is also this human tendency to bring events like the Gen Z movement within the ‘valley of the normal’, whereby, in hindsight, we tend to offer simple explanations to make sense of this complex phenomenon. For instance, a bloody uprising was supposedly inevitable given the impunity with which the old political elites were running the country.

But all evidence suggests the Gen Z revolt was not led by any one person or entity; it represented diverse voices. (Nor was there any way to predict the state’s brutal crackdown.)

Yet the political activism of young participants in the movement has come to be associated with the Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP)—much more than any other political force.

After the Gen Z movement, most prominent Gen Z voices were in favour of making Balen Shah, who seemed to encapsulate the spirit of the movement, the new prime minister. But Shah declined the offer.

Now he has joined the RSP, a political force that rose to prominence in the 2022 elections by capitalising on the deficiencies of the old parties. Rabi Lamichhane, despite all his controversies, was seen as a leader of a new and exciting change in Nepali politics. And particularly after Shah’s entry, the party Lamichhane leads has become a repository for the hopes and aspirations of many Gen Z-ers.

But the revamped RSP is a patchwork of a party. Earlier, it was a one man show of Rabi Lamichhane, and now it is helmed by the duo of Shah and Lamichhane—the third person in the triumvirate, Kulman Ghising, pulled out no sooner than he had joined.

Ghising’s abrupt departure is a clear blow to Kathmandu Mayor Shah’s bid to build a broad-tent party for alternate forces. Yet the example is also being offered to suggest that not much has changed: Those at the helm of new forces like the RSP or Ghising’s Ujjyalo Nepal Party are just as opportunistic and power-hungry as the leaders of the old parties.

Besides, there is little in common between Lamichhane and Shah, the two remaining most prominent faces in the RSP. They have vastly different personalities, socio-economic backgrounds and political schooling.

There is still more for the supporters of new forces to despair. No core ideology binds the RSP as a political party, nor does it have the kind of robust institution that can withstand the tussle between its top leaders. The RSP, many fear, might soon implode due to a clash of personalities. Even if it does not, other newer forces like the Ujjyalo Nepal and the Shram Sanskriti Party will divide votes for alternative forces in the upcoming elections—again to the benefit of old parties.

Many people are starting to question if the spirit of the Gen Z movement will now be honoured.

I too sometimes fear if the faucet of radical reforms opened by the Gen Z movement will be abruptly closed. But the more I think about it, the more I am convinced that the Gen Z revolt is a resounding success—whatever happens next.

Linking the success of the Gen Z movement to the success of particular parties is a category error. Whether or not the RSP stays intact, whether or not there are timely elections, whether or not new forces get a majority, the country has been transformed.

Old political elites stand exposed while a new set of leaders and activists have been thrust into national politics. The political narrative has shifted from which of the three leaders will next become the prime minister to how to best honour the blood and sacrifice of the Gen Z protestors. A collective anti-corruption crusade has been launched.

It is also due to the Gen Z movement that the traditional forces have been jolted out of their slumber. Nepali Congress is witnessing an internal revolt; even KP Oli, who ran the CPN-UML with an iron grip, was forced to get a new mandate to continue as party chair.

With Nepali society in favour of radical reforms, it will be impossible for any of these forces to turn back the clock of history.

For Gen Z activists like Bam, they will continue to face questions about their intent and plans. Yet even if they do nothing more, they have already changed the country.