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By:

Kiran D. Tare

21 August 2024 at 11:23:13 am

The Cockroach Caucus

Abhijeet Dipke’s viral rebellion looks less like a spontaneous youth uprising than India’s anti-BJP ecosystem discovering meme warfare. Indian politics has always had room for the absurd. A country that once elevated sadhus, film stars and anti-corruption crusaders into national prominence was probably destined, sooner or later, to produce a Cockroach Janta Party. What is more revealing is how quickly India’s habitual anti-Modi commentariat which includes the activist-lawyer circuit,...

The Cockroach Caucus

Abhijeet Dipke’s viral rebellion looks less like a spontaneous youth uprising than India’s anti-BJP ecosystem discovering meme warfare. Indian politics has always had room for the absurd. A country that once elevated sadhus, film stars and anti-corruption crusaders into national prominence was probably destined, sooner or later, to produce a Cockroach Janta Party. What is more revealing is how quickly India’s habitual anti-Modi commentariat which includes the activist-lawyer circuit, opposition influencers, campus progressives and the permanently outraged ‘liberal’ ecosystem, has rushed to embrace it as the next great democratic awakening. The latest social-media sensation is the creation of Abhijeet Dipke, a 30-year-old political strategist, former operative in the Aam Aadmi Party’s meme-and-message factory, and recent graduate of Boston University. Dipke has become the unlikely mascot of India’s digitally disillusioned Generation Z after launching the Cockroach Janta Party (CJP), a movement supposedly representing the “lazy and unemployed youth” of India. Within days, the party had amassed more than 100,000 sign-ups, an anthem, a sleek website and a swarm of influencers eager to declare a revolution. During a court hearing, India’s Chief Justice Surya Kant remarked that some unemployed youngsters behaved “like cockroaches” though he later clarified that he was referring to fake-degree holders entering the legal profession. Even so, the perception was that of an establishment figure speaking seemingly callously about an anxious generation confronting unemployment and economic insecurity. Dipke seized on the insult with the instincts of a seasoned political marketer. “I am the cockroach,” he declared in interviews, converting judicial irritation into internet identity politics. The curious part is how quickly the anti-BJP ecosystem embraced this supposedly anti-establishment phenomenon. Within days, politicians such as Mahua Moitra, Kirti Azad and activist-lawyer Prashant Bhushan were amplifying the movement. Influencers who normally spend their days diagnosing fascism in everything from airport inaugurations to temple ceremonies suddenly discovered in Dipke a youthful democratic messiah. The neutral mask has slipped rather early off Dipke’s face. What was marketed as a spontaneous youth uprising soon resembled a familiar political ecosystem discovering a new mascot through which to channel its reflexive hostility towards Narendra Modi and the Bharatiya Janata Party. Dipke is hardly an outsider crashing the gates of power. Between 2020 and 2023, he worked within the Aam Aadmi Party’s social-media machinery during the years when the party perfected meme populism into an electoral science. He helped shape digital messaging for Arvind Kejriwal’s campaigns, especially among urban youth. Much about his fledgling party resembles a reheated version of AAP’s original insurgent formula: anti-elite outrage, social-media virality, moral grandstanding and a carefully cultivated image of youthful authenticity. The party’s manifesto is pure internet maximalism. No retired Chief Justice should get a Rajya Sabha berth. Media licences owned by powerful businessmen should be cancelled. Defecting politicians should be banished from public office for two decades. The Election Commission should face draconian punishment if votes are improperly deleted. Women should get 50 percent reservation. For India’s fractured opposition, especially those struggling to dent the formidable machinery of the BJP, Dipke represents an intriguing experiment: can meme culture succeed where formal politics has failed? Can online discontent among educated but economically anxious young Indians be channelled into a broader anti-BJP mobilisation? Internet movements often burn with the lifespan of a trending hashtag. India’s urban youth are adept at forwarding political memes but less enthusiastic about attending party meetings in the summer heat. And the cockroach metaphor itself carries limits. While victimhood branding can generate virality, it is less effective at building durable institutions. Still, the BJP would be unwise to dismiss the phenomenon entirely. The party’s dominance has relied heavily on mastering digital politics better than its rivals. Now a younger crop of political entrepreneurs is attempting to weaponize the same methods against it, borrowing from the populist grammar that once made AAP disruptive. Dipke may appear unserious, but unseriousness has become a serious political currency. There is also something revealing about the emotional undercurrent powering the CJP’s popularity. Beneath the satire lies a generation increasingly anxious about employment, status and political representation. Dipke’s ‘genius’ (if that is the word) is in recognising that mockery can function as mobilisation. Young Indians who may never join a political cadre are still happy to join a meme. Whether the Cockroach Janta Party survives beyond the current attention cycle is another matter. Political movements born online often discover that governance requires more than sarcasm and Instagram reels. Cockroaches are famously resilient creatures. Political gimmicks, alas, are not.

Himalayan Upheaval: Nepal’s Generation Z Revolution and the Great Power Game

Protests against social media restrictions in Nepal have swiftly morphed into a geopolitical maelstrom, threatening the balance of power in South Asia.

Earlier this month, Nepal’s capital, Kathmandu, transformed into the scene of one of the most dramatic political upheavals in recent South Asian history. A mass uprising, led primarily by the ‘Generation Z’ toppled Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli’s government in a matter of days. The immediate spark was a ban on social media imposed by Oli’s administration - a move widely perceived by the youth as an assault on their freedom of expression. Yet beneath the surface, the rebellion exposed far deeper fault lines of endemic corruption, crushing unemployment, political stagnation and the complex tug-of-war between global powers vying for influence in the Himalayan nation.


The week commenced ominously with Oli’s resignation that was followed by a brutal crackdown that left at least 19 young protesters dead. This set-off a cycle of violence which saw irate protestors vandalizing the residences of former prime ministers Pushpa Kamal Dahal (known as ‘Prachanda’) and Sher Bahadur Deuba. The seat of Nepal’s bureaucracy, Singha Darbar, suffered arson attacks. Even ultra-sacred sites like the famed Pashupatinath Temple narrowly escaped desecration. Across the capital and other districts, mobs rampaged through official buildings, burning, pillaging and humiliating the political class they once tolerated.


Amid this chaos, some new (and controversial) political figures are beginning to emerge. Kathmandu’s rapper-turned-mayor, Balendra Shah, along with activist Sudan Gurung and controversial former deputy prime minister Rabi Lamichhane, are being touted as possible leaders of a nascent interim government. These figures, seen by some analysts as US-aligned, contrast sharply with Oli himself, who was widely viewed as a Chinese protégé. The stakes for regional geopolitics have rarely been higher.


History of Instability

Nepal’s political instability is hardly new. Since the abolition of its monarchy in 2008, the country has cycled through no fewer than 14 prime ministers in 17 years. Governance has been marked by nepotism, corruption, and incoherence. The political class is widely seen as power-hungry, indifferent to the struggles of a populace where, on average, eight lakh young Nepalis leave annually to find blue-collar work abroad. Many depart not seeking middle-class comfort, but merely to escape poverty.


For years, the Oli government had earned a reputation for authoritarianism. The decision to impose a draconian social media ban ostensibly to curb ‘misinformation’ was widely seen as the last straw for a disenfranchised youth, for whom digital platforms are not just entertainment but a primary mode of expression and connection.


However, in wake of the recent geopolitical tectonic shifts in South Asia, the swiftness and scale of the Nepal protests have led many observers to suspect they were not entirely organic. The sudden mobilisation of disparate groups and the financial resources required for such a campaign coupled with the precision of its execution all bear hallmarks of deeper orchestration.


Given the recent regime-change operation in Bangladesh, where protests ostensibly over quota policies morphed into widespread calls for the ouster of Sheikh Hasina, a foreign hand (read the United States) is widely being perceived as being behind the Nepal protests.


Geopolitical Chessboard

Nepal occupies a uniquely sensitive position in South Asia. Nestled between China and India, it has long been a site of strategic contestation. Traditionally, India has viewed Nepal as part of its natural sphere of influence, given deep cultural, economic, and historical ties. Yet the relationship has been far from frictionless. Memories of the 2015 unofficial blockade, widely blamed on New Delhi, linger in Kathmandu’s collective memory, fuelling latent anti-Indian sentiment. Against this backdrop, political leaders have rarely dared publicly profess friendliness toward India, preferring instead to cosy up to China.


Prime Minister Oli embodied this tilt. His China-friendly stance and pro-Beijing rhetoric, particularly during the Belt and Road Initiative’s expansion, further complicated India-Nepal relations. In contrast, the emerging figures now being promoted - Shah, Lamichhane and Gurung - are known for their pro-US leanings and are vocally anti-India. Shah has publicly displayed maps of ‘Akhand Nepal’ that encompass the Indian territories of Himachal Pradesh and Uttarakhand.


This shift carries serious strategic implications. Should an openly hostile regime take power, India would be left sandwiched between two adversarial neighbours - Bangladesh to the south, under an increasingly antagonistic government, and now Nepal to the north.


External Influence

Beyond power politics, the role of soft power and covert influence is crucial to understanding Nepal’s current turmoil. Since the devastating earthquake in 2015, American Christian missionary organisations have expanded rapidly in Nepal, often unregulated, fostering a sizeable evangelical Christian population. Countless US-funded NGOs have proliferated, with deep involvement in education, media, and civil society activism.


Social media too plays a vital role. Reports suggest that algorithms on platforms such as Facebook and Instagram amplified certain posts, turning obscure influencers into viral sensations overnight. Videos exposing the lavish lifestyles of political elites’ offspring, the ‘NEPO kids’ spread like wildfire, stoking public anger. Such viral phenomena are rarely organic, raising questions about deliberate interference.


Even more striking was the storming of Nakhu prison, where Rabi Lamichhane was freed along with some 1,500 other inmates in a manoeuvre that smacks of a calculated political coup rather than a spontaneous uprising.


Adding to the complexity is the Maoist factor. Disillusioned cadres from the Nepal Maoist Party, bitter over the corruption within their ranks, reportedly participated in setting fire to state institutions, and in the more egregious attempt to enter Pashupatinath Temple. Given Nepal’s deeply religious society, the desecration attempt stands out as an act designed to discredit the protesters’ democratic claims, pointing instead to factional infighting.


Then there is the monarchy. The pro-monarchist movement, long thought dormant since Nepal’s transition to a republic, has resurfaced. Rumours swirl that King Gyanendra may have lent tacit support to the protests. While unconfirmed, these claims underscore the multifaceted nature of the uprising.


India’s Dilemma

For India, the unfolding drama is a diplomatic minefield. The default reaction might be to intervene, given historic ties and shared borders. Yet, overt involvement now would be politically disastrous. Any perception of interference would feed the anti-India narrative and play directly into the hands of those seeking to weaken Indian influence. The prudent course is to maintain a hands-off approach.


Indian policymakers must remain alert to the danger of hostile regimes emerging in its backyard. The thin 23-kilometre Siliguri Corridor, which connects India’s northeastern states to the rest of the country, becomes all the more vulnerable if Nepal turns belligerent. The spectre of another anti-Indian neighbour, alongside an increasingly adversarial Bangladesh, threatens New Delhi’s strategic interests.


At home, India must also be vigilant of similar tactics. Protests such as the farmers’ agitation of recent years have sometimes exhibited the hallmarks of regime-change playbooks.


The situation in Nepal remains fluid. The army now governs under curfew, and the political vacuum invites all manner of actors to step in. Whether the interim government will be led by a genuinely reformist figure or by individuals serving external agendas is yet to be seen.


What is certain is that Nepal is not merely experiencing a youthful revolt against authoritarianism and corruption but is in the throes of a larger geopolitical ‘Great Game.’

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