They show up after class or work, tired but determined. Cardboard signs are tucked under their arms, phones buzzing in their pockets as they livestream, post, and message friends to join. For Gen Z, protest is not an abstract political act—it’s woven into daily life, and today, their voices are no longer on the margins of global politics. They are impossible to ignore.
Across the world, young people are becoming the most visible and persistent drivers of mass protest. Many are motivated by the same heavy mix of worries: rising prices, shrinking job prospects, shaky democracies, and leaders who feel distant or self-serving. For a generation that grew up watching crises stack one on top of another, taking to the streets—or to social media—feels less like rebellion and more like survival. They are asking for fairness, accountability, and some reassurance that the future will not be harder than the present.
This energy is especially clear in Peru, Bangladesh, and Indonesia, where youth-led movements have repeatedly spilt into public spaces.
In Peru, political turmoil has pushed many young people past frustration and into action. As presidents come and go and corruption scandals linger, students and first-time voters have become familiar faces at protests. What is so conspicuous is their tenacity, their perseverance. These are not once-in-a-lifetime walks, but continued initiatives driven by an unpretentious refusal to acknowledge uncertainty and volatility as normal. Online group conversations aid in forming demonstrations, while street protests keep the pressure evident, giving voice to a generation that feels shortchanged by the system.
In Bangladesh, young activists are challenging and opposing the normal truths of mounting living expenses and inadequate, if not restricted, political autonomy. Many of these young people are not pushed or motivated by party allegiance or dogma but by a craving for pride and self-respect—just elections, economic prospects, and the chance to be seen and the opportunity to be heard. For them, dissent is personal, entrenched in lived experience rather than an intangible concept.
In Indonesia, Gen Z crusading has taken form on explicit regulations and guidelines, mostly those touching on workers’ rights and autonomous protections. Young Indonesians have demonstrated a strident knowledge and grasp of how lawmaking influences their futures, organising gripes that are intensive, orderly, and well-informed. They’re simply not saying “no” to what they do battle with—they are undoubtedly asserting what they want as an alternative, motioning an increasing certainty and confidence in their political voice.
The issues may differ, but the feeling is the same: Decisions are being made without them, even though they will live longest with the consequences. That shared sense of exclusion has turned local frustrations into a global pattern.
What sets Gen Z on a different level is how logically they combine and balance the physical and digital worlds. They strategise demonstrations in group chats, clarify problems via quick videos, and turn hashtags into uniting calls of protest. Thus, for Gen Z, social media is not just a bullhorn—it’s a meeting place, a teaching space, and a support structure. A chant or tactic born in one country can be adopted across borders in a matter of hours.
Not waiting for permission
Gen Z is not waiting for consent or approval to take part in politics—they are producing their own space within it, and as worldwide pressures escalate, their actions and crusades are not likely to dwindle or disappear. Rather, they are a reminder that a generation raised up in ambiguity is no longer keen on accepting being locked out of choices and pronouncements that affect their future.
