Written by Madhavi Ravikumar
The 2010–2011 Arab Spring marked social media’s rise as a global force for activism. Platforms like Facebook and Twitter enabled rapid mobilisation — Egypt’s “We Are All Khaled Said” page — advocating against police brutality — drew 4,00,000 followers. A 2013 study by Philip N Howard and Muzammil M Hussain (The International Journal of Press/Politics) titled ‘Democracy’s Fourth Wave? Digital Media and the Arab Spring’, found these platforms lowered barriers to collective action, creating “critical mass” through real-time coordination. Yet, as researcher Deen Freelon (2016) observed, social media facilitated rather than caused change; politics drove transformation, pixels accelerated it. This duality endures with Gen Z (born 1997–2012), digital natives who harness short-form content for viral activism, from Delhi’s AQI protest to Nepal’s anti-corruption reels, blending satire and solidarity.
Gen Z’s activism thrives on TikTok and Instagram, where memes and reels act as satirical tools of dissent. In Morocco, viral videos exposing extravagant World Cup spending amid a healthcare and unemployment crisis sparked protests marked by the One Piece “Straw Hat Pirate” flag. In Nepal, videos exposing “nepo-kids” fueled outrage over inequality, with the country seeing 20 per cent youth unemployment and heavy reliance on remittances. A 2023 United Way NCA survey shows 66 per cent of Gen Z activism is digital, and focused on inflation, healthcare and housing. A BBC (2022) report highlights social media’s global reach — from Hong Kong’s 2019 Telegram-led protests to the 2020 US Black Lives Matter movement, where TikTok drew 15–26 million participants. In South Asia, Sri Lanka’s 2022 “Aragalaya” used Facebook for 70 per cent of coordination, while Bangladesh’s 2024 quota protests, which toppled Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina, relied on WhatsApp and saw deepfakes incite deadly riots. Iran’s 2022 hijab protests leveraged Instagram Reels to evade censors. Mongolian students used Discord for “flash occupations” against unemployment and pollution, and Filipino activists on X spread deepfake exposés of nepotism, echoing Nepal’s “nepo-kids” movement.
These examples validate social media’s power to mobilise Gen Z, tackling “collective action problems”, as professor Yannis Theocharis (2022) noted in Sage’s New Media and Society, by indicating safety in numbers. Yet this power has drawbacks: Engagement-driven algorithms foster echo chambers and polarisation. In Morocco, unmoderated Discord clashes grew from 3,000 to 1,50,000 users; in Nepal, post-ban arson calls turned activism chaotic, and digital mobilisation culminated in doxxing in the Philippines. Platforms like Meta and ByteDance, while promoting free expression, prioritise ad revenue, enabling misinformation that fuels unrest, seen in Hong Kong’s doxxing waves and BLM’s outrage cycles. Evgeny Morozov’s The Net Delusion (2011) warns against “cyber-utopianism”, noting governments’ use of these technologies for surveillance, as in Nepal’s post-uprising crackdown disguised as anti-corruption reform.
Governments facing digital activism often resort to bans that backfire. Nepal’s blackout, framed as tax enforcement, cut economic lifelines and radicalised youth, while Morocco’s throttling and arrests echoed Tunisia’s pre-Arab Spring censorship, sparking resistance in Indonesia where gig workers rallied via Telegram. A Brookings report (2023) critiques such protests as having “large bark but no bite” without offline structures, yet Nepal and Morocco show that bans can unite opposition, even toppling Madagascar’s government and forcing Mongolian concessions. States must treat platforms as quasi-public utilities and negotiate rather than suppress. Collaborative moderation frameworks, noted by Rest of World (2021), and regulatory models like the EU’s Digital Services Act, promoting algorithmic transparency without stifling dissent, offer direction. India’s IT Rules (2021) stirred censorship debates; tripartite dialogues among governments, platforms, and civil society might foster “protest parity,” maintaining access while mitigating harm.
For Gen Z, social media and networking platforms are lifelines. It uses social media for political education and civic engagement. However, digital disparities exacerbate elite capture, marginalising rural youth in Morocco, Nepal, and Indonesia. Instead of suppression, governments should invest in digital literacy and pursue revenue-sharing models where platforms fund local infrastructure in exchange for regulatory compliance, reducing incentives for bans.
Looking ahead, by 2030, Gen Z will make up 40 per cent of the global population (UN projections), driving up “phygital” activism which blends AI-deepfakes, bots, and fragmented “splinternets”. Shared symbols like Indonesia’s Straw Hat Pirate flags from Yogyakarta to Kathmandu signal the next digital flashpoint. As Clay Shirky’s Here Comes Everybody (2008) asserts, revolutions are inevitable in networked societies; therefore, UN-led norms for ethical AI and bilateral tech accords are vital to prevent chaos. Fragile democracies must favour collaboration over confrontation. Platforms should prioritise social impact, governments should prioritise dialogue, and Gen Z should channel digital power towards reform. Without negotiation, as seen in Morocco and Nepal, the next uprising may consume more than parliaments.
The writer is professor, University of Hyderabad
