Media365
4 min readOct 9, 2026 12:42 PM IST
First published on: Oct 9, 2026 at 12:42 PM IST
As a teacher, I have always felt that I am continually walking with my students as co-travellers. We are learning and unlearning together, and it is this rigorous academic journey that also empowers and enables us to think politically and redefine the world. Well, in our times characterised by a strange mix of neoliberalism and religious nationalism, we see an attack on the very spirit of studentship as an intellectually awakened and politically illuminating experience. In fact, the prevalent system is constantly asking students to follow the standardised path to “success” – acquire a degree the techno-economic system values; don’t think of anything beyond the narratives of “placement and salary package”; be a consumer as well as a hyper-nationalist; and continue to give your consent to the status quo.
No wonder, there are occasions when I fall into the trap of despair. As we grow old, pass through these toxic times and witness the erosion of the democratic spirit, we begin to feel that nothing is going to change: From the devaluation of education and growing scepticism towards critical thinking and academic freedom, the all-pervading economic inequality amid the mind-boggling prosperity of select billionaires or, for that matter, how the Election Commission of India has reduced us to a set of documents which, ironically, it does not trust.
Recently, though, the pedagogy of hope has begun to enchant me. I see students occupying the streets, raising their voices against violence, and overcoming the fear through which the mighty state apparatus, with its coercive machinery and tools of surveillance, seeks to demotivate them. They arouse hope for three reasons.
First, they are redefining themselves. They see themselves not merely as job seekers and careerists; they are broadening their horizons, and they are fighting for what a sane society needs — democratic rights, a clean and transparent education system, and above all, a culture that makes even the most powerful ministers and bureaucrats accountable. Second, they cherish the principle of non-violence. In a way, they are rediscovering and renewing the redemptive power of Gandhian ahimsa and satyagraha. This is remarkable, particularly at a time when we see multiple forms of violence—violence in the name of “development”, in the name of “protecting” the religion of the majority community. Or violence in the name of retaining “law and order”, and protecting the nation from ‘dimagi Naxals’.
Third, in this movement I see the possibility of a dialogue — the merger of Gandhian satyagraha, Marxian understanding of the political economy and the Ambedkarite analysis of a caste-ridden/hierarchical society.
At this crucial moment, these students and youngsters have become our teachers. They teach us not to despair. They teach us that nothing is permanent, and even the most powerful regime can be subject to critical scrutiny. They teach us that politics is not just about the strategy of winning the elections; it is essentially about the art of creating a transparent/democratic/egalitarian society. And above all, they teach us that there is no “value-neutral” studentship. That being a student is also about empathy, critical thinking, humanistic temper and the willingness to create a just society. It is about, as Paulo Freire would have said, the cultivation of the spirit of a “problem-posing” education.
As a teacher, my only prayer is that these young people should not fall into the trap of “stardom”. After all, in the age of constant media simulations, even the images of creative dissenters are manufactured, packaged, sold, and thereby trivialised as “stars” and “celebrities”.
The writer taught sociology at JNU for more than three decades
