Pratap Bhanu Mehta - Closing of the University
As the right stamps itself, central universities will see politicisation that destroyed state universities
The moral sickness and
thuggery on display in the aftermath of Gurmehar Kaur’s brave Twitter post is
too nauseating for intellectual analysis. The patterns are depressingly
familiar. Young women cannot express independent political views without being
subject to misogyny, violence and political intimidation. This form of casual
brutality may almost have the character of a social pathology but it is also empowered
by a total lack of political outrage. An otherwise prudish culture seems quite
comfortable with open talk of rape threats as an instrument of politics.
Second, Kashmir
remains the mirror in which Indian nationalism dare not look itself in the
face. It is still nearly impossible to have a holistic, free and frank
discussion on Kashmir in all its aspects: From state oppression to militancy to
the plight of the Pandits. How much intent there is to suppress all dissent is
an open question. But Kashmir is an issue on which the suppression of dissent
wears the garb of popular imprimatur. With other universities canceling events
on Kashmir, this trend is likely to continue. Third, there is the sheer
institutional bloody mindedness. If our cabinet members spent half as much
sincere moral outrage acknowledging the complexities of the Kashmir issue as
they spend on fueling conflicts on campuses we would be far better off.
Finally, there is the organised attempt to
delegitimise what remains of the public university system. An organised pattern
is emerging. Use the “JNU pretext”, as it is now called, to unleash the ABVP
or, in some cases, university administrations, to harass, intimidate and engage
in violence. Once the spark is lit, there will, of course, be other
perpetrators of violence who will get into the mix, which will then also allow
the ABVP to play victim. My sense is that the point of all this is not captured
simply by the idea of suppressing dissent. The ideas and people sought to be
being suppressed get more publicity: That is the paradox of modern censorship.
It is rather to create conflict itself. Conflict is used to mobilise political
support around nationalism. Conflict is convenient because it allows everyone
to present themselves as victims. By a strange alchemy all of this will end up
with the “Right” presenting itself as the victim. So the core issues of
violence, appropriateness of institutional norms and misogyny will soon be
forgotten.
It is not that
difficult to make the case that universities have betrayed their own principles
very often. But the tragedy is that instead of restoring those principles and
healing the university, we want to use it as a pretext for more control and
destruction. Indian universities long ceased being spaces for a genuinely
liberal education. The professoriate for the most part, in the eyes of the public,
cuts a sorry figure; university leadership has, in most instances, become a
postbox for the government. The destruction that governments of all political
parties have wrought on the university system is now coming to bite us. For
those who have engaged with the history of higher education in India, this
phase is relatively mild yet. But it has deep echoes of the 1970s.
We forget that from
the late-’60s to the ’80s, many university campuses were politicised to the
point of becoming dysfunctional. In many cases, there was sheer thuggery. But
the broader politicisation of universities had four large undercurrents. First
was the demand for vernacularisation. Almost all the great national
universities across the nation, from Rajasthan to Osmania, were provincialised
and became regional universities. Materially, this was a demand for local
representation. But culturally, it was a revolt against a national elite which
regional identities sought to supplant. That sub-nationalism may or may not
have made the universities more inclusive in the right way. But they, for the
most part, destroyed intellectualism. Most nationalism is poisonous for
intellectualism.
The second trend was a shift in politics. With the polity
becoming more deeply politicised in the ’60s, with the Congress struggling to
perform the mediating function, many new political groups saw their
opportunity. The Left wanted to displace the Congress and there were pitched
and violent battles, of which Calcutta was the most extreme example. The third
was an economic crisis that made student politics the most potent means of
social mobility. Finally, there was the Emergency and the spectre of
authoritarianism that deepened the politicisation of the university.
This settled into some
kind of equilibrium, but at the cost of most state-level universities becoming
hollow shells. There was also more of a sense in the students that disruption
was harmful. But now the old trends are returning in three ways. Central
universities will now experience processes similar to those that destroyed
state universities. There has been a shift in the ruling politics. So the ABVP
will use state patronage to violently oust the incumbents, especially the Left.
And where the Left has shards of power in Kerala and Bengal, it responds in
kind. This move is also congruent with BJP’s project of creating an ideological
state apparatus, like the Left did.
Second, just like
regional politicians and forces managed to portray the universities in their
states as elitist, exclusionary and out of touch with cultural identities, the
BJP and ABVP will launch an assault on what they regard as elitist, privileged,
culturally distant cosmopolitanism. Nationalism is the perfect wedge by which
to highlight this distance. Growing up, the first political slogan I ever heard
in the then-excellent Himachal University was “Himachal for Himachalis”. Now
there will be the search for the “authentic” Indian to represent the Indian
universities.
The complicated sociology of Indian campuses, the fact that many
students on these campuses feel alienated from intellectual life, for
linguistic or social reasons, makes this a resonant cry. The relative optimism
that characterised a lot of Indian campuses over the last couple of decades,
about jobs may also be coming to an end. Perhaps that optimism was always
misplaced. But imagine a scenario where students are no longer confident about
their job prospects. What might that do to university politics? And finally,
the fourth element: The spectre of authoritarianism will deepen the
politicisation.
Politicisation can be
a good teachable moment. The last wave did wonders for many political careers.
But it ensured that the conversation about universities became about everything
except the university, its practices and its pedagogy. The bubble of social
forces and the organised way in which the BJP will continue the time-honoured
practice of assaulting public universities, will once again ensure a corrosion
of liberal and intellectual values and just plain decency.
