IMAGE: GETTY IMAGES
Correction (Sep 6th 2025): An earlier version of this piece incorrectly said Nepal imposed ban on September 5th.
At 11:59pm on September 4th, millions of Nepalis lost access to the world’s most popular social media platforms. Instagram, Facebook, YouTube, WhatsApp, X (formerly Twitter) and 21 others were blocked by internet providers under orders from Nepal’s telecommunications regulator. The platforms’ apparent offence was a failure to comply with a government order requiring registration, licensing and local representation. For Nepali users, nearly half the population, the switch-off was more than an inconvenience. It was a state-enforced rupture with the digital world.
The order followed the expiry of a seven-day ultimatum issued by the Ministry of Communications and Information Technology. At its core was the 2023 Social Media Directive, which requires all platforms (whether based in Nepal or abroad) to register with the government; get a licence renewed every three years; and appoint three local representatives. In theory the rules apply to any individual or organisation offering a platform for digital interaction. In reality they target the world’s largest tech firms, which have yet to respond in kind.
The legal foundation for the clampdown was laid by the Supreme Court, which affirmed the state’s right and obligation to monitor social media operations. The court cites the spread of misinformation and the erosion of public trust in institutions as justification for demanding oversight. Among other things, the court ordered that digital platforms be held accountable for content as well as barred from operating anonymously and subject to “competent authority” supervision. Government officials interpreted the rulings expansively. Unregistered platforms were to be blocked immediately.
The result is a digital blackout with few precedents. Of the estimated 16.6m domestic internet users, more than 14.3m were reachable via Facebook’s ad tools in early 2025. That figure represents nearly 73% of the adult population and 86% of internet users. Meta’s services—Facebook, Messenger, Instagram, WhatsApp—form the backbone of digital communication in the country. They are used to arrange weddings, sell vegetables, publish satire and run election campaigns. TikTok was banned in 2023, then reinstated in August 2024 after its parent company, ByteDance, agreed to comply. Telegram, which was blocked in July for its alleged role in financial scams, has since applied for registration. Neither Meta nor Google, which owns YouTube, had completed the required formalities by the deadline.
Government officials insist the move is regulatory rather than punitive. According to Gajendra Kumar Thakur, a ministry spokesperson, the intention is to “bring platforms under domestic law”—not to exile them permanently. Platforms that register, even belatedly, will be unblocked the same day. Meta appears to be exploring that path, having contacted officials to inquire about the necessary documentation. But as of the ban’s imposition, only five platforms—TikTok, Viber, Witk, Nimbuzz and Popo Live—had met the requirements. Two others, including Telegram, were waiting on approvals.
The commercial hit is immediate. Thousands of small businesses rely on social media for advertising, orders and payments. Nepal’s festive season, which begins in October, is a critical sales window. With Facebook ads suspended and Instagram storefronts invisible, many fear revenue will plummet. Some firms have scrambled to pivot to Viber or SMS marketing. Others have taken to sideloading VPNs and sharing phone numbers the old-fashioned way.
The public reaction has mixed resignation with defiance. Users posted “last photos” on Facebook and X as the deadline approached. Google Play traffic surged as people downloaded alternative messaging apps. There are no official figures yet on VPN adoption, but anecdotal reports suggest a brisk uptick. The ban may have disrupted the platforms’ services—but not necessarily the behaviour they facilitate.
Opposition politicians accuse the government of authoritarian excess. Hit Raj Pandey, a whip for the CPN (Maoist Centre), warned the decision could “throw the country into chaos”, arguing that the state failed to provide a workable pathway for compliance or consider the economic disruption. Others see the ban as a symbolic gesture by a government eager to flex sovereignty against uncooperative multinationals.
Nepal is not alone in trying to domesticate global tech. Indonesia and Vietnam have enacted laws requiring platforms to register and respond to takedown requests. Nigeria suspended Twitter in 2021 over content moderation disputes, later restoring it under similar terms. India has insisted that foreign firms appoint local grievance officers and comply with takedown notices. The difference in Nepal is scale. A country of 30m cannot exert the same market pressure as its larger peers. Whether Meta or Google will alter their operating structures to retain access to Nepal is uncertain.
Much will depend on how the registration process evolves. The current directive offers scant clarity on, among others, data residency, liability for user content or dispute resolution. Platforms accustomed to dealing with EU regulators or American courts may find Nepal’s requirements untested and vague. Local representation is costly; compliance without legal certainty is riskier still.
Yet the state’s motivations are not entirely misplaced. Misinformation and cybercrime pose real problems. The question is whether Nepal’s blunt approach—bans enforced by midnight—is likely to fix them. In the absence of effective enforcement tools or technical capacity, the risk is that legal clarity is replaced with regulatory theatre.
The government has made its point. Social media will not operate in Nepal on autopilot. But if the country wishes to be heard on the global digital stage, it cannot afford to stay offline. ■
