Sustaining India’s student protest – notes for academics

Sitting by my desk in Bangalore and watching how the ongoing student protests in Delhi are shaping-up has made me restless. As a PhD student, I hardly have the means to book impromptu flights to Delhi and participate in what I feel is a strong people’s movement. The struggles and demands of the Cockroach Janta Party protestors, along with countless other students and of course, Shri Sonam Wangchuk ji, should not remain within the bounds of the Indian capital. I ask myself; how can I take part in the protests? Rather, how does anyone take part without being involved in-person? How do we show our solidarity beyond putting our names on letters and appeals?

As a student of science, I am trained to ask questions. The ‘why’ and ‘how’ of our world. And that to me, is perhaps the first step in participating in a protest…asking questions. Why has there been such blatant lapse in oversight by governing bodies? What makes the state shrug off any accountability and start a blame-game? Why is there no coverage by the 4th pillar of democracy for what is essentially a struggle to shape the future generations of this country? Is this not in the country’s best interest? Perhaps the ability to ask questions is unfortunately compromised in our society, not because people are inherently incurious, but because this has never been encouraged by our education system. Acts of resistance start with questions. We were never taught to ask questions but encouraged in our homes and schools to adhere to established norms and bow down to authority, uncritically. 

A good education strives to improve critical thought in students; to question evidence that is presented to us as ‘facts’ and weigh each option with regards to the issue at hand. These ideas are nothing new. From Protagoras in Greece (490 – 420 BC) to Paul Feyeraband in Austria and America (1924 – 1994), countless thinkers have spurred us to think and educate ourselves. Closer to home, Ram Mohan Roy’s Atmiya Sabha founded in 1815 regularly engaged in debates and discussions around social prejudices that prevailed at the time. Education is a powerful process that pays its due in the future. It has been uplifting to see so many students in Delhi ask critical questions of our times, carrying on the legacy of the Father of Indian Renaissance, among many others. These are not voices to be quashed, but embers to be nurtured.

Asking questions is only the start. What we need as direct action, is the enthusiasm and excitement to teach. For those who are in academia or who are teachers, we have immense power and with that, substantial responsibility to help mould young minds. Teaching not just our subjects of interest but a more holistic approach to education. One where we ask what kind of country we want for ourselves. I have been extremely lucky to receive some phenomenal education at a prestigious government institute. My teachers and mentors have played a crucial part in shaping who I am today. I teach a few modules and conduct specialised courses for relevant government institutions as part of my profession. But marine and river ecology and climate science courses are honestly just a by-in to interact with students and individuals, and try to be to them what my mentors have been to me. What I’ve learned is how strong an individual’s thirst for a good education is; they yearn for their thoughts and questions to be heard. Young candidates and India’s future minds recognise the systems they stand to inherit. Some question how their own individuality can even withstand such an oppressive system, under the current political atmosphere. There’s a sense of isolation we all feel but this isolation can be remedied. Extending a helping hand and working towards a shared goal of a better India is in everybody’s best interest. This is no different from the sentiments of the students currently protesting at Jantar Mantar.

The student-led protest is an indication of how powerful youth-driven movements can be. It symbolises that partisan politics may not be our only means of demanding change. In fact, by relying solely on partisan politics we remove ourselves from the equation that leads to social, political and cultural change. This country has a rich history of people-led movements, going all the way back to colonial times and it’s time we acknowledge and support the ways in which our democracy was enriched. 

The demands by those of us protesting in body and spirit are straightforward. An open acknowledgement and dialogue could have helped minimize our frustrations. This simple act has not yet occurred and will most likely take a long and arduous fight. Long fights for the future of our country require sharp and critical minds and as academics, it falls on us to ensure that we do our part in arming younger generations with the necessary tools to resist injustices, critique events, and change the ills of our society. Education and reform are immediate paths that we can walk and it’s time we do this together. What this requires is nothing more than a fundamental human feeling – compassion. Compassion for students who feel strangled by an oppressive education system; compassion for parents who have lost children to this machinery; compassion for teachers who still try to impart quality education when the government obfuscates facts that do not fit their vision of the country.

The other side has already engaged in the struggle to distort young minds and has been at it for at least a decade. It is about time that we counter such petty practices and fight for our country’s future. Resistance is not only marching on the streets demanding justice and equity, but it is also the quiet, everyday practices that keep the heart of the protest going. We must echo and embody the sentiments of resistance in our daily practices and ensure that students have something to look forward to. Think, question, teach and organise. This is how we sustain a protest, by imbuing its values and principles in our everyday lives. As a fictional Star Wars character says, “There will be times when the struggle seems impossible. Alone, unsure, dwarfed by the scale of the enemy. Tyranny requires constant effort. It breaks; it leaks. Authority is brittle; oppression is the mask of fear”. The character, Karis Nemik, ends his monologue by uttering the most powerful word that drives movements, “try”.

END OF ARTICLE