5 min readFeb 18, 2022 09:13 AM IST
First published on: Feb 18, 2022 at 03:23 AM IST
My heart aches as I see the rapidly deteriorating culture of Jawaharlal Nehru University — the learning community that once nurtured me as a student/researcher/teacher. Yes, the university, despite the “top-ranking” brand attached to it, is a terribly wounded space. It needs the art of healing that requires the active participation of all — the administration, the teaching community and the fraternity of students.
While the administration is often seen as a non-reflexive instrument of power that is never tired of issuing circulars, chargesheets and showcause notices from the Kafkaesque castle, the authorities tend to see a significant section of students and teachers as essentially “problematic” or “politically motivated”. This broken communication causes a toxic environment filled with fear, doubt, suspicion and anxiety. It negates the soul of a learning community. Furthermore, at this time of political discourses of hyper-nationalism, JNU has often been equated with a negative stereotype: A place full of “leftists”, “urban Naxals” and “anti-national” conspirators. What adds to the wound is that the administration, far from countering this propaganda, has remained silent.
No wonder, at this crucial juncture, with the arrival of the new vice-chancellor, Santishree Dhulipudi Pandit, we are witnessing a spectrum of reactions and responses, or expectations and apprehensions. However, as I do not see the realm of education through the prism of “left vs right”, and continue to believe in the art of possibilities, I would urge Santishree to value and restore what we all need as seekers, wanderers and learners — the epistemology of pluralism, the culture of dialogue and mindful listening, the non-violent mode of conflict resolution, and the academic freedom of students, researchers and teachers. Only in an environment of this kind, to take a simple illustration, can a Marxist and an Indologist debate rigorously without personal hostility; or, for that matter, the vice-chancellor can walk through the hostel mess, and enjoy her lunch with students — liberals, leftists, Ambedkarites, feminists, believers and atheists. This dialogic spirit is beyond the rhetoric of a “left vs right” discourse.
The wound can be healed if Santishree, unlike her predecessor, celebrates the power of compassionate listening. Even if she disagrees with a young student who critiques the politics of hyper-nationalism, or problematises the neoliberal assault on higher education, she must appreciate his inquiring spirit. And if a student composes an aesthetically enriched political poster with a quotation from Che Guevara, she should not be penalised. Isn’t it a fact that to be young is to imagine, and strive for a better world? Likewise, she ought to cherish the spirit of collegiality to initiate a relaxed conversation with a teacher who gives a note of dissent in the Academic Council meeting. Well, the “leftists” might have played their politics; but then, I would love to imagine Santishree as a courageous vice-chancellor who dares to create a refreshingly innovative culture of empathy and communication.
The students and teachers too have to play an important role to heal the wound. It is possible for a professor to see Marxism or Savarkarism or Ambedkarism as a cherished ideology. However, in the class, or in her engagement with students and colleagues, she ought to nurture the spirit of epistemological pluralism. A Marxist who is capable of teaching Gandhi or Aurobindo with academic rigour; or, a Savarkarite whose scholarship enables her to converse with a feminist or an Ambedkarite would alter the self-perception of the teaching community: they are not just “leftists” or “rightists”; as wanderers, they are continually learning and unlearning. Likewise, young students ought to unite the spirit of intellectual and political freedom with the ethic of care and responsibility. It would be pathetic if a “Marxist” student hates a teacher or a student who does not quote Althusser and Gramsci so frequently, and, instead, refers to Dharampal or Anand Coomaraswamy. Likewise, it would be absurd if a young “nationalist” sees every “leftist” as a “jihadi”. A university is not a war front; it needs conversations and dialogues, and the courage to disagree with the spirit of non-violence.
Even though we are living in the age of despair and cynicism, I am still a firm believer in the pedagogy of hope. I welcome the new vice-chancellor and urge her to work with the entire JNU community, heal the wound, and rediscover this amazing university as a land of possibilities.
This column first appeared in the print edition on. February 18, 2022 under the title ‘Healing a campus’. The writer taught sociology at JNU for 31 years
Jawaharlal Nehru University (File) 
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