Nepal

Prime Minister Balendra Shah told the UN that world leaders must act on climate change.

Nepal’s Prime Minister Balendra Shah has appealed for action to combat the rising threat of climate change, calling the flood that devastated his country last month “a warning to the world”.

Shah made the comments during his address to the 81st Session of the United Nations General Assembly in New York on Thursday night. He told the gathering that the August disaster “was not just a local tragedy”, asking them the question, “Have you really heard that warning?”

Political leaders “have been negligent to translate those warnings in action at the speed and scale that the vulnerable people require,” he said.

At least 1,453 people died when a torrent of mud, rock and water struck northern Nepal and the China-Tibet border on August 26, triggered by a glacial collapse.

According to Nepal’s National Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Authority, 5,500 people were still missing and 13,795 had been rescued.

Researchers from the World Weather Attribution (WWA) group said in a report released last week that the disaster was not caused by a single extreme weather event, but rather a “compound crisis” shaped by long-term warming, glacier retreat, permafrost thaw and geological instability.

Shah said climate change was hurting people not responsible for the crisis but who “are paying a colossal price for it”.

He said Nepal contributed less than one-tenth of 1 percent of the heat-trapping gases behind climate change. About 99 percent of the country’s electricity comes from hydropower, and many workers were trapped in tunnels by the flooding.

“Our glaciers are retreating, our mountain slopes are becoming unstable, our rivers are becoming less predictable, and every major disaster threatens to erase years of development,” Shah said.

Shah urged the international community to help bear the cost of helping Nepal adapt to climate change.

He proposed to create a ‘Himalaya Climate Resilience Mechanism’ which would include Nepal and neighbours India and China, and would allow them to share satellite data and expertise, monitor glacial lakes and strengthen joint early warning systems.

Nepal has asked the UN’s loss and damage fund for $20m in aid, the maximum allowed, but a tiny fraction of what it needs. A preliminary assessment by the government has placed the cost of the disaster at $5bn.

The fund, established in 2022 in the aftermath of catastrophic floods in Pakistan, has yet to make even its first disbursement, and observers see Nepal as a key test of its credibility.

Earlier this week, the United States pledged an additional $31m in new flood recovery support.

New Delhi, India – On the morning of August 26, the Himalayan landscape above Nepal’s Rasuwa district changed in minutes.

A mass of ice and rock broke loose high in the mountains and sent a violent surge of water, mud and debris down the Lhende Khola River. The torrent travelled through valleys, swept away settlements and infrastructure and eventually reached the Nepal-China border.

What followed was not simply a flood.

It was a chain reaction.

By mid-September, more than 1,400 people had been reported dead and at least 6,000 remained missing in Nepal and across the border in Tibet. Twelve hydropower plants were destroyed, while roads, bridges and homes were buried or washed away.

The scale of the destruction has left scientists and disaster managers confronting a difficult question: How do you warn communities about a disaster whose trigger may occur high above them, in terrain that is difficult to monitor and where there may be only minutes to react?

Basanta Raj Adhikari, director of the Centre for Disaster Studies at Tribhuvan University in Kathmandu, described the event to Al Jazeera as unprecedented in size, affected area and mechanism. His estimate suggested that the energy involved was greater than that released by the Hiroshima atomic bomb, a comparison intended to illustrate the scale of the physical forces involved rather than suggest that the event was equivalent to a nuclear explosion.

For scientists who study the Himalayas, the disaster demonstrated how quickly an event originating in a remote, high-altitude environment can become a regional catastrophe.

And Nepal is not alone.

The warning problem

A warming climate is altering glaciers, snow cover, permafrost and high-altitude lakes. At the same time, roads, hydropower projects, tourist facilities and settlements have pushed deeper into mountain valleys.

That combination is creating a new risk landscape in which one hazard can trigger another.

An avalanche can block a river. A blocked river can form a temporary lake. A sudden release can become a debris flow. That debris can destroy a road or bridge, block another river and create another flood downstream.

The August disaster in Nepal showed how quickly such a sequence can unfold. It also exposed a weakness in the way early-warning systems are often designed.

Many systems are built around a particular hazard: rainfall, river level or glacial lake outburst flood. But the Himalayas do not always respect those categories.

In July, the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development, or ICIMOD, warned that a below-normal monsoon should not be interpreted as a safer one.

“The biggest misunderstanding is that less seasonal rainfall means lower flood risk,” said Saswata Sanyal, a disaster risk reduction specialist at ICIMOD.

“A drier monsoon can still be a dangerous monsoon,” he added, warning that seasonal averages cannot capture the cloudbursts capable of producing catastrophic flooding in mountain valleys.

The Nepal disaster went a step further.

The immediate trigger was not simply heavy rainfall.

Scientists have been examining an ice-rock avalanche and other possible processes that temporarily obstructed the river system before releasing a destructive surge. ICIMOD has described the event as an ice avalanche rather than a conventional glacial lake outburst flood, while other scientists have examined the role of local seismic activity and other high-altitude processes.

That distinction matters.

A warning system waiting for rainfall or a rising river may not provide enough time when the real trigger happens several kilometres upstream and above the line of sight of the communities below.

Kashmir’s warning signs

Thousands of kilometres away, scientists studying Kashmir’s Himalayas are seeing another part of the same problem.

A study published in the Journal of Glaciology this year mapped 155 glacial lakes above 2,500 metres (8,200ft) across the Himalayas in Indian-administered Kashmir.

The researchers found that the area of ice-contact proglacial lakes – bodies of water that form directly against the margin of a melting glacier, trapped by moraine ridges, bedrock basins, or ice dams – had increased by 26 percent between 1992 and 2024.

Five lakes were classified as having very high susceptibility to glacial lake outburst floods.

An outburst from those lakes, the researchers found, could threaten several thousand buildings, 15 major bridges, roads and a hydropower project.

More significantly, the study warned that hazards could occur in chains, with an upstream lake outburst potentially triggering secondary events downstream.

For Irfan Rashid, a glaciologist and associate professor at the University of Kashmir who co-authored the study, the implications extend beyond individual lakes.

Rashid recently told Al Jazeera that without action, the melting, thinning, and destabilisation of glaciers, seasonal snow cover, and permafrost along the Hindu Kush-Himalayas system would increase, and water shortages could become a major problem across the Upper Indus, Ganga and Brahmaputra basins by the end of the century.

That is why the Nepal disaster resonates in Kashmir.

The landscapes are different, the rivers are different and the individual hazards may differ. But the underlying problem is increasingly similar: Communities living downstream of a rapidly changing high-altitude environment may have little time to respond when something breaks loose above them.

The challenge is particularly acute in places where roads, bridges and hydropower projects occupy narrow valleys.

Once a mountain river begins carrying enormous quantities of rock, ice and mud, infrastructure designed for conventional floods can quickly become irrelevant.

Pakistan has already begun building a warning network

The same concern runs across the western Himalayas and Karakoram ranges.

The Gilgit-Baltistan region in Pakistan-administered Kashmir contains hundreds of glaciers and glacial lakes, while communities and infrastructure sit along valleys exposed to sudden floods and landslides.

Pakistan has responded by expanding early-warning infrastructure.

Under a United Nations-supported programme, early-warning systems, evacuation shelters, disaster-management centres and other protective measures have been established in vulnerable valleys.

But technology alone cannot solve the problem. A sensor can detect a change. Someone still has to receive the message. Someone has to understand what it means. And people downstream have to have a route to safety.

That last part is often the weakest link. A siren is useful only if the people hearing it know where to go. An automatic warning is useful only if it arrives before the flood. A satellite image is useful only if the information can be converted into a decision quickly enough to save lives.

This is why disaster scientists increasingly talk about anticipatory action rather than simply disaster response.

“The era of preparing for a single, predictable hazard is over,” Sanyal said earlier this year. “Anticipatory action and early warning must now be the foundation.”

The infrastructure trap

The Himalayas are also becoming more heavily engineered.

Hydropower is central to Nepal’s economy. Roads are being expanded. Border crossings are growing in importance. Tourism is pushing deeper into remote valleys.

The benefits are obvious. So are the risks.

The August disaster struck an area where hydropower infrastructure was concentrated along the river corridor. At least 900 workers were believed to have been inside tunnels and other facilities in the aftermath, making rescue operations extraordinarily difficult. Two workers were eventually pulled alive from a hydropower tunnel nine days after the disaster.

The question is no longer simply whether infrastructure can withstand a flood. It is whether planners have adequately considered what happens when a flood is carrying an enormous mass of rock and ice, when a river changes course, or when one mountain hazard triggers another.

For decades, engineering risk assessments have often relied on historical records. But history becomes a less reliable guide when the physical conditions producing disasters are changing.

A river that flooded once every several decades may no longer behave according to the same pattern. A glacier that appeared stable from satellite imagery may sit beneath an increasingly unstable slope. A lake that was considered remote may suddenly become a threat to a road, village or power plant hundreds of metres below.

The border problem

There is another complication that no satellite can solve on its own.

Borders.

The Himalayas are divided among countries with different political systems, security concerns and approaches to sharing information. But rivers do not stop at international boundaries. Neither do floods.

The August disaster reached the Nepal-China border and damaged the Gyirong crossing, an important trade and pilgrimage route. The disaster also raised questions about how quickly information about hazards in high mountain areas can move between countries.

This is where regional cooperation becomes more than a diplomatic slogan, experts say. A sensor positioned in one country can provide warning to people in another. A satellite image collected over one mountain range can reveal a developing hazard that threatens a valley downstream. A river gauge can provide critical information before floodwaters reach a settlement.

The technical capability already exists in many cases. The missing piece is often the architecture connecting it.

A 2026 assessment of Himalayan disaster risks has argued for stronger monitoring, early-warning systems and regional coordination because hazards are increasingly interconnected.

The idea is simple: Information about a mountain hazard should not stop at the same line where a political boundary begins.

From Nepal to Sikkim to Kashmir

The August disaster in Nepal isn’t a tragedy belonging to one country, point out experts.

The Kashmir Himalayas study has already identified lakes capable of producing destructive outburst floods and has warned of cascading processes.

Northeast India’s Sikkim provides another example.

After the 2023 South Lhonak glacial lake outburst flood killed dozens and damaged major infrastructure, India expanded monitoring and mitigation efforts.

Today, 40 high-risk glacial lakes have been identified in Sikkim, including 16 placed in the highest-risk category, with authorities working on drainage, flood-retention and other protective measures.

But the lesson from each disaster is broadly the same: Waiting for a disaster to prove the risk is the most expensive form of preparedness.

The Third Pole test

The Himalayas are sometimes called the Third Pole because they contain one of the world’s largest concentrations of snow and ice outside the Arctic and Antarctic.

Major Asian rivers depend on water originating in these mountains. Hundreds of millions of people live downstream.

That makes the changing Himalayas not only an environmental issue but a security, infrastructure and humanitarian one.

The August disaster demonstrated the most frightening version of that future. A mountain can collapse without warning. A river can become a weapon of debris. A hydropower tunnel can become a trap. A border crossing can disappear in minutes. And by the time people downstream understand what is happening, the water may already be there.

It’s a future that a region stretching from northeast India, spanning Tibet, Nepal, Kashmir and Pakistan, can no longer ignore. Yet disaster management remains largely divided by national boundaries. That contradiction is becoming harder to navigate.

The next glacial collapse could begin in Kashmir. It could begin in Pakistan’s high mountains. It could begin in Sikkim, Nepal or Tibet.

Wherever it starts, the same question will follow the mountain downstream: Who knew, how early did they know, and did the warning reach the people in time?

For a region entering an era of increasingly complex mountain hazards, that may be the real measure of whether the Third Pole is prepared.

Bettiah, India – Neyaz Miya was adjusting a kitchen handle. Mehadi Hassan was fixing a bracket for a bed.

They were at different construction sites – Miya in a half‑constructed home, a little higher up the hill, while Hassan was on the ground floor of Ganesh Hotel, closer to the Trishuli River that flowed through Syafrubesi, a bustling market town near the Nepal‑Tibet border, now wiped off the map by the August 26 flash floods.

More than 1,200 bodies have been recovered since then, at least 4,000 people remain missing, and more than 13,000 have been rescued.

“First came the terrifying loud sound. Then the ground trembled, and dark clouds descended upon us,” recalls 34‑year‑old Miya, who ran further up the hill with his phone and slippers that morning, five or six others running alongside him.

Hassan, lower on the slope, did not wait to reach for his slippers or his phone. He just ran, climbing a narrow, stair‑like path, up the hill, stopping only when he reached roughly 60 metres (200ft) above the road.

At some point, Miya and Hassan found each other. Around them were 60 to 70 other survivors who had also gathered high up on the hill.

A decade earlier, Miya had arrived in Syafrubesi as a carpenter. Three years later, he brought Hassan with him – both men from Bihar’s Bettiah district. Over the years, they built the town’s interiors – sofas, beds, almirahs, and kitchens for hotels and homes.

On that Wednesday morning, they watched all of that washed away. The multi‑storey hotels where they had worked – Red Panda, Garden Hotel, Buddha Hotel, Sunrise Hotel – were all swallowed by the flood.

“The town was gone in a blink,” Miya recounts, now sitting in his home in Turhapatti village of Bihar, India, just across the Nepal border. “There were only three kinds of people who survived that day: Those who were out of town, those who were at work and managed to run, and those who lived a little higher up the hill.”

Based on what he witnessed, Miya says only a few hundred people in Syafrubesi, a town that had a population of 2,271 in the 2011 census, likely survived.

Miya and Hasan are among them. Three of their close friends and colleagues, also migrant workers from Bihar, are not.

A workday like no other

When the floods reached Syafrubesi, the men were already at work: Their shifts began at seven in the morning.

“To start at seven, we would wake up at four or five,” Miya recalls. They would leave with empty stomachs and were fed tea with doughnuts or biscuits at the construction site by building owners. Their first break came at 11am, when they returned to the rented one‑room space (3,500 Nepali rupees or $23 a month) that housed five to seven migrants at a time.

On the morning of August 26, they left for work alongside 34‑year‑old Arman Ansari, 20‑year‑old Samir Ansari, and 52‑year‑old Mukhtar Ansari, all migrants from Miya’s Turhapatti village.

In the rented room, two teenage boys, Arman’s 14‑year‑old son, Salman Alam, and his friend Shibu Alam, 17, remained asleep. They had come a month earlier to visit the hills.

“My father had cooked meat bhaat (rice with meat),” Salman recounts. He was waiting for his father to return at 11am so they could eat together.

Arman, his father, was working beside Hassan on the ground floor, pasting sunmica onto the same bed. Samir and Mukhtar were on the top floor of the Full Moon Hotel.

When Hassan ran out of the under-construction building and up the hill, he believed Arman was behind him. But by the time Hassan and Miya met higher up, there was no sign of the other three: Arman, Samir and Mukhtar.

Miya and Hassan found the boys, Salman and Shibu, terrified, on the hill. “Salman was crying, howling and searching for his father,” Hassan said.

The flood, which came with a high speed, took half an hour to recede. Soon, helicopters started hovering above them, airlifting the critically injured.

The four of them – Miya, Hassan and the boys – walked down the hill on foot to search for the three missing in the debris. They found nothing but sludge. Miya’s furniture-cutting tools and machines, worth 80,000 Nepali rupees ($530), were buried in the debris.

When they got back to their room, perched high on a slope, they found that it had survived.

But the army had taken charge, and soldiers herded survivors away from tenements near the river. “They said it [the flood] might come again,” Miya recalls.

They slept that night in a government school building in a village, he says. “At night, we were given daal bhat (rice and daal), and we wrapped ourselves in tarpaulin and slept.”

The next morning, a helicopter took them to another village. From there, another helicopter carried them to an army compound in a town. In the evening, they teamed up with five other migrants and hired an SUV to reach Nepal’s capital Kathmandu, each paying 3,500 rupees ($23).

The next morning, on August 28, they hired another SUV, which charged them 950 rupees ($6) each for a distance of 290km (180 miles) to Birgunj, a town on the India-Nepal border. They then crossed the border on foot before boarding buses for their villages.

It wasn’t the homecoming Indian migrants who work in Nepal usually plan.

‘No regular work’ back home

Turhapatti is among thousands of villages tucked along the 1,715km (1,066-mile) stretch of the India-Nepal border, where generations have crossed back and forth in search of work.

The two countries share an open border, and on both sides, especially in Bihar, the bond is known as a roti-beti ka rishta (a relationship of food and daughters), alluding to ties of livelihoods and matrimonial kinship. People live, work, and marry across the border.

Kathmandu is as close to Turhapatti as is Patna, the capital of Bihar. Per its 2021 Population and Housing Census, Nepal had 700,000 foreign-born residents, 97 percent of them from India.

Miya and Hassan say the wages for a carpenter or a mason on the Indian side are between 600-700 rupees, while for the same work in Nepal, wages are about 900 rupees. That drives migrant workers from India over the border into Nepal.

Nepal, for its part, is facing a major out-migration crisis — its per capita income is the lowest in South Asia, barring Afghanistan, and hundreds of thousands of young men and women leave each year to find work elsewhere. This creates a demand for migrant workers from Bihar, India’s poorest state that lies just across the border.

In Turhapatti, Miya owns only 0.03 hectares (0.06 acres), not enough to feed his family of six children, wife and parents. In recent years, he transitioned from being a carpenter to a contractor, which allowed him to bring in more workers from Bihar.

He had been sending 30,000 Indian rupees ($315) back to his family every month.

Hassan has even less back home: He inherited a 6×8-metre (20×25ft) room from his father and no agricultural land. “There is no regular daily work here,” he says. He would send 15,000 Indian rupees ($157) home from Nepal each month for his wife and four children.

Their story echoes in most homes in Turhapatti. The village had a population of 16,000 people in the 2011 census, India’s latest one. In nearly every household, men have left to work in other parts of India and abroad as carpenters, masons, or labourers mixing cement and sand into mortar.

The destinations are Kashmir, where close to 700 men from the village work; Nepal, with nearly 600; and thousands scattered across Indian cities: Chennai, Kolkata, Delhi, Mumbai. About 100 men have migrated to Dubai, Oman and Saudi Arabia.

The houses they built in Turhapatti stand in stark contrast to those of those who remain in India. The marble-fronted and iron-gated homes belong to men working in the Gulf, while semi-permanent dwellings belong to those who stayed behind.

Migrants in Nepal fall in between: Miya has been able to raise a brick house.

‘My body shivers at the thought’

This economic reality is what drove Arman Ansari to Syafrubesi. On July 26, Arman left for Nepal with Samir and Mukhtar. Arman’s son and his friend Shubu went with the three adults; the teenagers were on a trip to the hills.

Now, Arman’s brother-in-law. Jameel Miya, a carpenter in Kathmandu, scours the city’s hospitals for Arman’s body, telling authorities that his brother-in-law’s right hand and chest had deep scars, cut by shards of glass when he was young.

Arman’s wife, Sahrun Khatun, has only her last phone call with Arman to hold on to. They spoke two hours before the floods swept him away. “He was about to get his wages on September 1 and return home,” she says.

Salman, who had tagged along with his father to see the hills, hasn’t been able to sleep since the flood.

“The moment I close my eyes, I feel the flood is coming for me,” he says.

Mukhtar’s family lives a few lanes away.

Since the floods, Kasmun Khatun, Mukhtar’s wife, has been glued to the internet for any news of her missing husband. Joining her in that remote search are her daughter Asmana (18) and son Sadre Alam (14).

Her eldest son, Osama, 25, a tailor in Kathmandu, has been busy searching for his father in city hospitals.

“After waiting for a week and watching the videos, I submitted my DNA samples,” he says over a phone call. Osama manages to send home 6,000 rupees ($63), but that is no longer enough – his mother needs eye surgery that has already been delayed and cannot be put off much longer.

“The guardian has gone, all of a sudden,” he says, referring to his father.

At the far edge of Turhapatti stands the home of Samir Ansari, the youngest among the missing migrants and youngest of his five migrant brothers.

The Ganesh Hotel project he was working on was only three days from completion.

“He said he found another site to work on,” recalls his father, Hasmuddin Miya, remembering their last phone call on the evening of August 25.

Samir was a mason who specialised in marble tiles, a skill he had learned in Kashmir while working under his elder brothers at construction sites.

The three families are preparing to host a bhoj, the funeral feast – a custom of feeding hundreds of people – having given up on hope.

Meanwhile, the two survivors, Miya and Hassan, are already making calls to find work again. This time, their search turns towards Nepal’s plains. They pledge never to return to the hills.

“My whole body shivers at the thought of going there,” says Hassan.

Nepal is demanding “climate justice” and $20m in compensation after the recent devastating floods in the country and China’s Tibet region, which led to the deaths and disappearances of thousands of people.

The catastrophe, which scientists say was caused by the effects of climate change, was triggered when part of a mountain glacier collapsed and a torrent of water and mud flooded down into Nepal’s Rasuwa and Nuwakot regions, as well as into China’s Tibet region on August 26. More than 1,300 people have been confirmed dead and more than 5,000 remain missing.

“We are paying the ultimate price for a global crisis we did not create,” Nepal’s Foreign Minister Shisir Khanal said last week.

“Support for Nepal should not be seen from an angle of aid or charity, but should be seen from the perspective of climate justice,” he told the AFP news agency.

On Monday, the country’s President Ramchandra Paudel made a similar demand during an address to the nation.

“I make a heartfelt appeal to the international community not only to listen to the voices of ecologically vulnerable countries, including Nepal, but also to take concrete and effective steps to ensure climate justice for them,” he said.

Nepal’s Ministry of Finance and Ministry of Environment have written a joint letter to the United Nations, which set up a fund to respond to loss and damage caused by climate change in 2022 in line with the 2015 Paris Agreement on climate, with a request for $20m in damages.

The UN’s Loss and Damage Fund is, however, facing a $2.8bn funding gap as it prepares to approve its first climate recovery projects.

‘Collective frustration’

Nepal’s leaders may have a point.

Nepal contributes less than 0.1 percent of global greenhouse gas emissions and generates most of its electricity from renewable sources of energy. Yet its geographical location in the Himalayas makes it particularly vulnerable to severe climate and weather events.

Last month’s catastrophic flooding in the country comes against a backdrop of rapid global warming and glacial loss across the Himalayas.

Glaciers across the Hindu Kush Himalaya mountain range – which spans Afghanistan, Bangladesh, Bhutan, China, India, Myanmar, Nepal and Pakistan – lost ice 65 percent faster between 2011 and 2020 than during the previous decade.

Nepal’s glaciers, which are sandwiched between two major carbon emitters – India and China – have lost close to one-third of their ice volume in roughly three decades due to global warming, the United Nations said in 2023.

Tanuja Pandey, a Nepal-based climate activist and lawyer, said there is collective frustration behind Nepal’s demand for climate justice.

“People here feel the world often pays attention to Nepal only when a climate disaster becomes impossible to ignore. It is deeply painful to people here that global attention intensifies when headlines report thousands of people dead or missing and in the end, their suffering does not generate any urgency to fight climate change,” she told Al Jazeera.

Shreya KC, a 28-year-old Nepali climate activist, said there is profound anger and sadness among people in Nepal who say that they must no longer continue to suffer the impact of climate change, which, as they see it, other countries are responsible for.

“My hometown is in Solukhumbu in eastern Nepal,” the activist told Al Jazeera. “It is a district of mountains and is also home to the world’s highest mountain, Mount Everest, and my home is also downstream. After the glacial collapse happened two weeks ago, people in my region have realised that this can now happen anywhere in Nepal since the Himalayas are warming and glaciers are melting faster.”

While Nepal has been actively fighting climate change, Shreya KC said she herself has been involved in projects in the country that focus on clean hydropower generation, forestry and other such climate advocacy programmes.

“Because of other countries,” she said, “today Nepalis are the ones most impacted by climate change. So people want justice.”

Is there such a thing as ‘climate justice’?

According to preliminary estimates from Nepal’s National Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Authority, the country’s property, housing and infrastructure losses in the floods amount to some $2.56bn.

But claiming compensation under a notion of “climate justice” won’t be straightforward, according to Joyeeta Gupta, a professor of Environment and Development in the Global South at the University of Amsterdam.

According to the United Nations, “‘climate justice’ is the moral and ethical principle that seeks to address the disproportionate impact of climate change on vulnerable communities and future generations”.

“I define it as a system of justice where others’ perspectives are taken into account, and no harm is caused to others,” Gupta told Al Jazeera.

Nepal is a country that has very low emissions, she said, but is facing the brunt of climate issues which it never created. “That is reason enough for Nepal to claim climate justice,” she noted.

But, practically speaking, can it? In the pre-1990 period, there was a lot of discussion among nations about the need for large emitters to compensate those that would be harmed, Gupta noted. But soon after that, the term “compensation” disappeared from the agenda of international climate treaties, which turned more to discussions about providing assistance to developing countries that need to tackle climate change instead.

In a July 2025 advisory opinion on climate change, the International Court of Justice (ICJ) declared that “all nations have binding legal duties under international law to prevent significant climate harm”.

The ICJ’s advisory opinion on climate change also says that states breaching their international climate obligations can be required to make full reparations, including financial compensation to “injured states” or countries impacted by climate change caused by the actions of other countries.

While the ICJ’s opinion is not legally binding, Gupta said, it is a statement in international law that could support Nepal’s government’s international appeal for climate justice and compensation.

‘No climate justice without internal justice’

Nepal’s rapper-turned-prime minister, Balendra Shah, is scheduled to travel to New York on September 22 to address the 81st session of the United Nations General Assembly (UNGA) on September 24. His country’s appeal for climate justice is expected to be a key part of his address.

For climate activist Shreya KC, while UN meetings and international conferences on climate change may hold some weight when it comes to discussing climate disasters, right now, what Nepal needs is money.

“So much of our money allotted for healthcare, education and to transition into a more developed nation is now being spent on fighting climate change. So countries who are causing emissions, especially from the global north, need to commit more money to the UN’s Loss and Damage Fund,” she said, adding that money from that fund should be disbursed to vulnerable communities in need, not as a loan but as compensation for bearing the brunt of climate change.

Pandey noted that this is not the first time a climate disaster has occurred in Nepal and said that the new government, which came into power in March this year on the back of Nepal’s Gen Z protests last year, has also failed to make climate a priority in its budget.

While it is a good sign that Nepali politicians are appealing for international climate justice, she said, they also need to address the country’s internal development model to fight climate change in the first place.

“There is no climate justice without internal justice within the country itself,” she said.

“I hope that even in our development, partners and investors stop treating climate resilience as an optional addition to development in Nepal just because we are economically vulnerable.

“Investing in Nepal without investing in sustainability is simply a bad investment.”

On Monday, Nepal declared a national day of mourning to remember the more than 1,300 people who are known to have died in last month’s catastrophic floods. Thousands more are still missing.

The country’s President Paudel used the opportunity to call on people to unite.

“This is not a time for division. Nor is it a time to blame one another or become entangled in political disputes and confrontation,” he said.

“This is a time to demonstrate national unity and solidarity. It is also a time for reconstruction, rehabilitation and economic recovery.”

But Gupta says Nepal’s biggest challenge right now is establishing a precedent for compensation for climate change-related disasters.

“It was recently a glacial collapse in the country, but soon, it will become a bigger issue as time goes on because the monsoon patterns will change, the sea level will rise,” she said.

As many other developing countries – notably island states that face being submerged altogether – are also likely facing similar climate change challenges, the damage could become huge.

“That is going to be a very big reason why many rich countries will probably be unwilling to pay compensation, because that would set a precedent for future issues,” Gupta said.

“But the issues countries like Nepal are facing are a very strong argument to try and convince the whole world to accelerate action to phase out fossil fuels and fight climate change.”

One year ago, thousands of young people took to the streets in multiple Nepali cities to protest against corruption. Following the resulting curfews, arrests and the killing of protesters in a crackdown on the demonstrations, the Gen Z‑led movement forced the government from power, ushering in an interim administration and opening the way for new elections.

Now, as Nepal grapples with the aftermath of devastating floods along its border with Tibet, we examine what has changed over the past year – and whether the demands of the Gen Z protesters have been met.

What happened in Nepal last year?

On September 8, 2025, youth-led “Gen Z” protests began in Kathmandu and other cities of Nepal.

Demonstrators who took to the streets were protesting a series of corruption scandals in the country and were also angered by the rising trend of the children of Nepali government officials – dubbed “Nepo kids” – documenting their lavish lifestyles online.

The protests broke out just days after the country blocked 26 social media sites including Facebook, Instagram, X (formerly Twitter), and TikTok for not complying with government rules about “harmful” content. This ban was lifted when the protests began.

Some young demonstrators defied curfews imposed by the authorities after demonstrations began, leading to arrests and the police firing live rounds at protesters, killing about 76 people. Hundreds of protesters were injured and hundreds more arrested. Protesters also set fire to several government buildings, including parliament, and the army was deployed.

Then, on September 9, Prime Minister KP Oli, 74, resigned from his position. Within a week, Nepal’s former Chief Justice Sushila Karki had been appointed as the country’s new interim prime minister.

Ultimately, the protests culminated in the current government being formed in March this year when 35-year-old rapper-turned-politician Balendra Shah was sworn in as the country’s youngest-ever prime minister.

Shah leads the Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP), also known as the National Independent Party, a new anti‑establishment party which emerged after the youth-led protests and won more than two‑thirds of the 165 directly elected seats in parliament in March. Traditional parties such as the Nepali Congress and the CPN‑UML have a much smaller representation than ever before.

Although he was not a street organiser of the protests, Shah became one of the most prominent political figures, channelling Gen Z’s anger into his electoral campaign.

What were the key demands of the Gen Z protesters?

They included:

• An end to corruption: Protesters demanded greater transparency and accountability from political elites they view as corrupt, as well as an end to nepotism, whereby the children of those elites live in luxury while many young Nepalis struggle financially.
• Mass resignations and suspensions: Protesters called for the resignation of Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli and the mass resignation of parliamentarians. They also called for an immediate suspension of officials who issued the order to fire on protesters.
• Political overhaul: The protesters called for the dissolution of parliament, establishment of an interim government and holding new general elections.

Have these demands been met?

The demands have been met to some extent.

For instance, Oli resigned in the wake of the Gen Z‑led protests, and several senior members of his government also stepped down. Parliament was dissolved, an interim government was established, and new general elections were held in March this year.

“Despite the loss of life and property during the movement, the interim government successfully conducted peaceful elections, leading to the emergence of a new political force in government,” Yog Raj Lamichhane, an assistant professor at Nepal’s Pokhara University, told Al Jazeera.

“The result reflected public disenchantment with the old political establishment.”

In March this year, Nepal police arrested Oli and former Home Affairs Minister Ramesh Lekhak for their alleged involvement in the deadly crackdown on the protesters last year.

However, both men were released in April after a Supreme Court order asked the police not to indefinitely extend the detention. They remain under investigation in connection with last year’s deadly Gen Z protests, but have not been formally charged.

Furthermore, the issue of corruption among political elites has barely been addressed, observers say.

Dinesh Paudel, professor at the Appalachain State University in the US, told Al Jazeera: “The fundamental concerns and issues raised by the young protestor last year are still the same, and there are no governance style changes even after the new elected government, other than some populist rhetorics on small and cosmetic topics.”

Has the leadership change made any difference?

Some of the young leaders have entered parliament and government, while others remain in activist groups. The divisions between these two groups of people are becoming more apparent as they often clash over how much to compromise with the old political establishment.

Those who were elected to parliament in March mostly belong to the Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP), or National Independent Party.

“One of the most exciting and progressive parts is the emergence of youth in politics as most of the parliamentarians are young, educated and have much aspiration to change,” Bishnu Raj Upreti, a public policy analyst and research director at Nepal Centre for Contemporary Research (NCCR), told Al Jazeera.

“The leadership change appears to have brought some positive differences, particularly in the working style of the current prime minister,” Lamichhane said.

However, experts say the younger generation of MPs – those elected under the NIP/RSP banner as well as those in older parties – remains constrained by party hierarchies and Nepal’s entrenched political system.

“They are inexperienced and are still heavily controlled by party structures,” Upreti said. He added that wider generational distrust between young politicians and the older establishment also complicated reform efforts.

“Leadership change has started. It is good, but not enough.”

This has resulted in an apparent divide between those in government positions and those in activist groups.

In May this year, the new government invited Gen Z activists – mostly civil society leaders and youth activists – to give their input for constitutional amendments. However, 25 of the 29 invited boycotted the meeting, saying deeper systemic problems and earlier agreements with the previous administration were being ignored, according to Gen Z activist Aayush Basyal.

Basyal, who was present at the protests last year, said it was “really tricky” for young activists to adjust to working inside the system alongside the new Gen‑Z politicians now in office. “They are trying to cooperate with the authorities they previously challenged, while still pushing for the radical changes they demanded on the streets,” she explained.

“Now the Gen Z protesters of that time are divided into different factions, and some of the factions are vehemently opposing some work of government,” Upreti explained.

“So those who oppose the government are not in positive booking of the government,” Upreti added.

Where are the protesters now?

On Tuesday, families of protesters who were killed in last year’s crackdown organised a formal commemoration at what used to be Nepal’s parliament building.

After functioning as the parliament building for almost two decades, it shut down last year when Gen Z protesters trespassed and set fire to it.

Basyal said the authorities provided tight security amid rumours that some groups might try to incite violence, noting that Nepal’s “media economy” often amplifies sensational incidents even when only a few people are involved.

In the meantime, however, the divide within the Gen Z movement is becoming more stark, particularly what some see as a failure by the new leaders to advocate for protesters.

“The injured protesters have generally received medical treatment and certain monetary compensation,” Lamicchane said.

“However, the concept of compensation remains broader than financial support alone. In my view, the true compensation would be the fulfilment of the promises and objectives that inspired the Gen Z movement and the subsequent formation of a new government.”

Basyal said that while some of the people involved in the movement are now MPs or cabinet ministers, others, from poor, minority backgrounds, who lack money and influence, are still in jail and cannot speak up for themselves.

“There are people still in jail, officially more than 900 and unofficially, maybe like 1,600 plus, who are in jail for arson,” Basyal said.

He said it was troubling that these protesters remain in jail, suggesting this risks becoming “institutionalised” and raising questions over whether the government is effectively celebrating impunity.

Activists, he added, hope the new administration will treat these detainees better, but “that is yet to be seen.”

What still needs to change?

Analysts say structural changes are necessary.

“Although the government has promised reforms, particularly through changes in laws and policies, these commitments have not yet been substantially realised,” Lamichhane said.

Upreti noted that the new government has not begun any structural changes at all.

“Structural changes have to start with changing existing laws and bringing in new laws and policies,” he said.

“From what we’ve seen so far, the new leaders don’t appear to be prioritising that. Massive reform of the bureaucracy is a precondition to achieving the aims of the Gen Z movement, but the government has not yet done meaningful work in this line.”

He added that another important element is to develop better relations and deeper trust with Nepal’s two giant neighbours, India and China, since Nepal’s economic progress and geopolitical balance depend on them.

Experts also say Nepal’s highly centralised system of government is a major obstacle to deeper structural reform.

“Strong collaboration of the federal movement with provincial and local government is the necessary condition for advancing economic progress, but they ignore provincial and local government as they have no provincial and local government. It is not a good approach,” Upreti said.

“Structural changes are necessary and they come from internal power dynamics such as urban-rural divide, inherent conflict between educated elites and peasant farmers and economic and bureaucratically institutionalised corruption,” Patel said. “It is hard to imagine that there will be any structural changes, aiming to making people’s lives better, at this stage and under current circumstances.

“In short, Nepal has missed yet another opportunity from a popular uprising that would fundamentally address Nepali peoples desire for change.”

What’s next?

“This new government seems to be deeply under its own weight of expectation,” Basyal said.

He explained that historically in Nepal, there’s been an “expectation gap”: people expect a lot, governments deliver little, and that gap fuels frustration.

He said that this government has “not been transparent”.

“The prime minister, he doesn’t speak a lot in the parliament. And when he did address the parliament a few times, that was pretty chaotic, as well,” Basyal added.

“If this issue remains unaddressed, it may lead to a second wave of public disenchantment.”

Lamichhane said, however, it will take time to see if the government can address the challenges it faces.

“Let’s hope and wait for changes. Now, it’s not the appropriate time to criticise the government, as Nepal has faced an apocalypse in the form of a massive flood.”

Meanwhile, flags in Nepal flew at half-mast on Monday as the country mourned the more-than-1,300 people who are known to have died in catastrophic floods which ravaged the border region with Tibet late last month. Thousands more people are still missing.

Basyal noted that Nepal’s current constitution was finalised and promulgated in September 2015, only after the devastating April and May earthquakes created urgent political pressure to end nearly a decade of deadlock.

“It feels like the nation comes together only during national disasters. So we’re really hopeful that this sense of unity that is right now will help.”

Sept. 4 (UPI) — Rescuers pulled two workers alive from hydropower project tunnel in Nepal nine days after devastating flash foods in the central Bagmati region and across the border in Tibet killed thousands of people, with as many 4,000 still unnaccouted for.

The two men, a supervisor on the Trishuli 3A Hydropower Station who was in a critical condition and a foreman, were taken by helicopter to the hospital in Kathmandu. At least one body was also pulled from the tunnel.

Tunnelling expert Arnold Dix told the BBC the rescue was the result of a highly complex and painstaking effort using engineering processes, old maps and aerial and satellite imagery to find the entrance of the tunnel, on a mountainside before the floods but now underground, and blast their way ahead, foot by foot.

At the same time they had to clear the tunnel at the Trishuli 3A Hydropower Station of water, using pumps and excavators to dig channels to drain the water to the river on the outside.

The team eventually reached two men more than 550 feet beneath the ground after digging “a tiny” person-sized tunnel, pulling foreman Sanjaya Shah and project supervisor Kabir Maharjan early on Friday, local time, and now hope to rescue more people.

Shah who was conscious but dazed, said he had been in the control room with 40-45 others when disaster struck and that he became trapped as he ran up and down the tunnel telling workers to get out.

“It’s like layer upon layer of miracles. We got two people out. If we were playing at a casino, some might say it’s time to walk away, but we say game on, time to take on the house,” said Dix, who credited Nepalese Army engineers for their expert assistance, particularly with the explosives used.

Dix said rescuers were 200 feet into the tunnel with another 500 feet to go where he said he believed there was a “Goldilocks zone” where he anticipated they may find more people alive from among dozens of people believed to remain trapped.

The “Goldilocks zone,” a space with conditions supporting life, is located on the uppermost level of the hydropower station.

“We got two people out. If we were playing at a casino, some might say it’s time to walk away, but we say game on, time to take on the house,” said Dix.

Families in Nepal held symbolic funerals for relatives who remain missing, hoping to free their souls after they were presumed dead.

In Hindu tradition, cremation is a vital final rite, and for some families, performing the ceremony without the bodies of their loved ones has brought a measure of spiritual release.

Authorities in Nepal have meanwhile been burying recovered bodies in temporary graves until they can be identified. DNA samples are being preserved, distinguishing facial features photographed and other identifying details recorded to help match the remains with missing people and eventually return them to their families.

The August 26 flash flood has been one of the deadliest disasters to hit the Himalayan nation in recent years.

More than 1,200 people were killed and about 4,750 remain missing in Nepal and China’s Tibet region, after a huge wave of mud and debris destroyed towns, roads, bridges and several hydropower dams.

Nepal’s rescue teams, aided by Chinese and Indian experts, are racing to save more than 900 workers believed to be trapped underground at hydropower projects hit by devastating flash floods.

Nepali officials said on Monday that the focus was on reaching the workers in about a dozen hydropower project tunnels blocked by mud and rock debris.

The unprecedented deluge of ice, rock, mud and debris on the Nepal-Tibet border on Wednesday – caused by a glacier collapse – has killed 903 people with 4,247 missing in Nepal, its disaster authority said.

The flood also wreaked havoc across the border in China’s Tibet region, where at least 16 people died and 546 are missing, said Chinese authorities.

‘Big challenge’

Pictures and videos shared by rescue teams in Nepal showed earth-moving equipment digging and shovelling mud and rocks under lights in the dark of the night as workers watched. Soldiers used torchlights in a big pit they had created to look for space to get into one tunnel.

“A large amount of debris has been deposited and that is posing us a big challenge to open the tunnels,” Nepal army spokesperson, Raja Ram Basnet, told the Reuters news agency.

“Our main focus is on opening the tunnels.”

Hundreds of bodies, many unidentified, have been buried in shallow graves as they began decomposing in the humid weather after being swept down the mountains by the torrent.

At a hospital in the capital of Kathmandu, morgues have reached capacity and families are flocking to other hospitals in hopes of finding missing loved ones, reported Al Jazeera’s Minelle Fernandez.

In addition to the 933 missing hydropower workers, some 500 workers from the Truck and Container Association are also missing, said Fernandez.

The Red Cross has estimated that more than 90,000 people are likely to have been affected by the disaster, which China has linked to the effects of climate change.

Prime Minister Balendra Shah said the flood was an “unprecedented and devastating natural disaster” and it remained challenging to compile a complete assessment of the damage.

“Despite the adverse weather, difficult terrain and continuing risks, we are moving forward with determination to save the lives of our citizens,” he said in a Facebook post late on Sunday, adding that nearly 21,000 security personnel were involved in rescue operations, besides civilian workers and volunteers.

While accessibility has been restored on many roads and highways, almost “40 kilometres of roads have been absolutely swept away”, Al Jazeera’s Fernandez said.

“So there are challenges on the ground in getting this aid to communities, but the authorities, as well as the agencies and their networks are working their way through it.”

China sends experts, aid

China’s state-run CCTV said the government has mobilised more than 2,100 rescue workers and allocated at least 220 million yuan ($33mn) to support relief efforts. Equipment and supplies have been airdropped to frontline rescuers, while Chinese soldiers used life-detection equipment to look for the missing.

Beijing said 261 foreign nationals from 23 countries were unaccounted for in Tibet.

“President Xi Jinping, according to state media, has called for all out efforts to rescue those missing in the mudslide, and this is the second time that the president has made such a call,” said Al Jazeera’s Katrina Yu, reporting from Beijing.

“So this seems to be the Chinese leader’s effort to call on people, not only to continue their efforts, but redouble their efforts even as things are looking grimmer and grimmer.”

China has sent nine tunnel rescue experts to Nepal and shared satellite information with Nepalese authorities, said Yu.

Although Nepal has said it does not need foreign help in general search and rescue efforts, it has accepted help from giant neighbours India and China for their expertise in tunnel rescue.

Rescue operations have been suspended several times since Friday because of bad weather and concerns that a lake, formed across the Nepal-China border by the disaster, could trigger new flooding after it began overflowing into Nepal’s rivers.

The weather was good on Monday and rescue work continued to pick up pace, said Narendra Pariyar, the district administrator of Rasuwa, one of the two hard-hit districts.

Specialised search-and-rescue teams join recovery operations in Nepal and China as floodwaters and severe weather hamper search efforts.

At least 797 people have been killed and 3,048 others remain missing after a glacier collapsed in the Himalayas, sending water and debris tearing through several villages.

Nepal announced an updated death toll of 781 on Sunday, with 2,502 people missing, including 592 foreign nationals. In China, state broadcaster CCTV reported 16 deaths and 546 people missing, including 261 foreigners.

The disaster occurred on Wednesday when part of a glacier at an altitude of roughly 5,200 metres (17,000 feet) collapsed, plunging around 1,200m (3,900ft) and gathering rock and debris before slamming into the Lende River.

Rescue operations have been suspended repeatedly since Friday due to poor weather and fears of fresh flooding. The disaster created a lake across the border between Nepal and China that has begun overflowing into Nepal’s Lhende and Trishuli Rivers.

More than 100 workers are also believed to be trapped inside several hydropower tunnels.

Burials start

Authorities in Nepal began burying some of the victims on Sunday after taking DNA samples to allow for future identification. Many bodies were carried away by the floodwaters, leaving families unable to locate and identify their relatives. Mass burials for hundreds of unidentified victims are taking place in Nepal’s scenic Chitwan district, known for its forests and rivers.

According to the Red Cross, about 90,000 people in Nepal are likely affected by the disaster.

Specialised teams from India, China, and South Korea have joined the search-and-rescue efforts. Malaysia is also deploying its Special Malaysia Disaster Assistance Search and Rescue Team (SMART) and contributing $1m in recovery assistance.

International funding has begun to arrive, with the European Union promising $2.3m on Friday. The International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies (IFRC) has allocated more than $1m and launched an emergency appeal for $31m.

Aug. 28 (UPI) — After Wednesday’s devastating glacier collapse in the Himalayas, scientists and geologists are warning that unstable conditions and the accelerating retreat of Andean ice sheets are exposing Chile, Argentina and Peru to the risk of catastrophic floods and mudslides.

The retreat of Andean glaciers has accelerated the formation of unstable lakes and exposed large slopes of loose rock that can collapse more easily as global temperatures rise, experts say.

Fast-moving floods and mudslides through mountain valleys could directly threaten drinking water supplies, energy projects and the lives of thousands of people living in vulnerable areas of the three countries.

The Himalayan disaster, which has left almost 600 people dead and more than 1,900 others missing, experts say that although monitoring and early-warning technologies exist, the speed and scale of glacial lake outburst floods, or GLOFs, such as the one in Nepal can make responding difficult.

“What happened in Nepal has already happened in Argentina,” Juan Pablo Milana, a researcher with Argentina’s National Scientific and Technical Research Council, told Infobae.

In November 2005, Laguna de los Erizos in San Juan province suddenly burst, releasing more than 1.1 billion cubic feet of water in just 67 minutes, Milana said. The flood traveled more than 155 miles, destroying crops and roads and isolating communities. No deaths were reported because the area was sparsely populated.

In Argentina, the areas at greatest risk are concentrated in Patagonia. One of the most critical sites currently under observation is the tourist town of El Chaltén, where instability on the slopes of Cerro Solo directly threatens Laguna Torre.

Lakes formed by the retreat of large ice masses, such as the Upsala Glacier, also pose a potential threat. In 2013, a collapse in the glacier’s channel generated a destructive wave in Onelli Bay.

Argentina’s Geological and Mining Survey and research teams from the University of Buenos Aires are responsible for monitoring the threats.

They combine satellite imagery used to update the National Glacier Inventory with projects to establish ground-based early-warning systems. Those systems are designed to use weather stations and hydrological sensors to detect changes in water levels and unusual slope movements in real time.

With more than 26,000 glaciers, Chile is among the countries most exposed to GLOFs worldwide, with risks divided between two distinct geographic areas.

The largest high-risk zone is concentrated in remote Chilean Patagonia, particularly the Aysén and Magallanes regions, where the rapid retreat of the Northern and Southern Patagonian Ice Fields has increased the formation of unstable lakes held back by fragile natural dams, although the region has a low population density.

Geographer Simón Inzunza told Chilean broadcaster T13 that the country has recorded GLOFs, particularly in Patagonia, as well as other emergencies associated with glacier melting and ice collapses.

In central Chile, watersheds are smaller but the risk is significant because of the high concentration of infrastructure, including hydroelectric plants, mining operations and drinking water systems serving millions of people.

Darío Ormeño, a geologist and professor at Andrés Bello University’s School of Earth Sciences, told BioBioChile radio that a mudslide is a real risk in Chile, although an event on the scale of the Nepal disaster is unlikely.

“Our glaciers are much smaller and do not have such an extreme elevation difference,” Ormeño said.

Chilean government agencies monitor glaciers using a national inventory updated with satellite imagery and radar. The tools allow authorities to measure the growth of glacial lakes and detect cracks in Andean slopes in an effort to issue early warnings before a disaster occurs.

Peru faces the highest risk in South America of disasters caused by GLOFs, with a history of deadly events and significant geographic vulnerability.

Paola Moschella, director of glacier research at Peru’s National Institute for Research on Glaciers and Mountain Ecosystems, or INAIGEM, told Exitosa radio that Peru has 528 lakes at risk of overflowing, including 58 considered high risk.

Unlike Patagonia and some high-altitude areas of Chile and Argentina, where glaciers are in remote valleys, entire cities and critical infrastructure in the Peruvian Andes, particularly in the Áncash region, lie directly along potential flood and mudslide routes.

Lake Palcacocha, in Peru’s Cordillera Blanca mountain range, is considered by scientists to be one of the world’s most critical cases because of its instability and proximity to the city of Huaraz, which has more than 120,000 residents.

The lake holds more than 599 million cubic feet of water and is fed by hanging glaciers that are susceptible to large avalanches as global temperatures rise.

If a large block of ice were to collapse into the lake, it could generate a massive wave capable of breaching its natural barriers and triggering a destructive flood that could reach urban areas in less than an hour.

The threat has a deadly historical precedent. In 1941, a similar outburst from the same lake destroyed about one-third of Huaraz and killed thousands of people.

Scientific monitoring in Peru has advanced significantly through the deployment of permanent personnel in high-altitude areas and the use of satellite surveillance systems.

Experts warn, however, that physical mitigation infrastructure installed in previous decades is outdated or insufficient to contain current water volumes.