In need of some learning

WHY is it that our public universities are allowed to decay, and the political establishment often encourages the organised attack on the ethos of creative learning, and meaningful teaching and research? Think of what is happening at Visva-Bharati—the university Tagore sought to nurture with his spirited freedom, poetic sensibilities and rooted cosmopolitanism. It is the same story that unfolded itself in other leading public universities like JNU and Jamia Millia Islamia. A non-dialogic Vice-Chancellor (VC), confinement and suspension of teachers, the threat of social boycott, FIRs/court cases and complete breakdown of communication—in a way, the turbulent Visva-Bharati campus is revealing once again that as a nation, we have lost the spirit of nurturing and retaining a great tradition, or a community of learners characterised by heightened reflexivity, critical pedagogy, philosophic wonder and intellectual freedom. At a time when the instrumental logic of the market has already commoditised education, and made it difficult to distinguish some of our fancy private universities from education shops, this sort of continual attack on our leading public universities indicates that the ruling regime is not really interested in what socially meaningful and academically enriched quality education is supposed to accomplish—nurturing scientists and philosophers, artists and engineers, or socially committed activists and public intellectuals for sowing the seeds of an egalitarian and inclusive space.

Even Pratap Bhanu Mehta had to ‘resign’ from the ‘liberal’ Ashoka University, possibly because of his writings which are not in tune with the ideology of the ruling regime.

As an academic, when I look at this decay, a question confronts me: Who will educate our VCs? There was a time when some of our VCs were great educationists, pedagogues, philosophers and spirited visionaries, and they sought to nurture our leading public universities. Yet, in the age of collective decadence, I am compelled to ask this question with pain. Yes, quite often, these politically appointed VCs (with ‘right’ connections) are not great educationists with politico-spiritual courage, moral conviction and visionary insight. Far from living with the light of intellectual and creative illumination, they live with terrible psychic insecurity, and confuse the power of an academic with that of an authoritarian techno-manager. As they are supposed to show their ‘loyalty’ to the ruling establishment, they become invariably fearful of critical thinking and intellectual autonomy. This fear or psychic insecurity manifests itself in their practices—reducing teachers and students into objects of surveillance, favouring a clique of conformists and thereby disrupting the spirit of collegial relationships, transforming the university into a war zone, and filling the entire space with the psychology of fear and suspicion. The result is that these days, many of our VCs seldom communicate with teachers, researchers and students as co-travellers, or talk about hermeneutic and emancipatory knowledge traditions; instead, their inaccessible castles are surrounded by security guards and CCTV cameras; they want the faculty and the students to behave like ‘disciplined’ and ‘obedient’ soldiers of the nation, as constructed by militant nationalists; and they issue chargesheets and show-cause notices to those who have not yet lost their conscience.

The only way to resist this decay is to spread the bond of solidarity with all those teachers and students who are suffering because of their intellectual honesty, critical thinking and moral conviction. Today, it is Visva-Bharati, JNU or Jamia Millia Islamia. Tomorrow, it can be any other university. And believe it; nobody is safe anymore. Even Pratap Bhanu Mehta—the celebrity professor and political philosopher—had to ‘resign’ from the much-hyped ‘liberal’ Ashoka University, possibly because of his writings which are not in tune with the ideology of the ruling regime. However, not everyone can get the kind of attention or media coverage that Professor Mehta gets. But the fact is that, as the Visva-Bharati episode has shown, dedicated scientists and teachers have been humiliated and harassed by the administration for their commitment to the spirit of what Tagore sought to communicate through his poetic revelation: ‘Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high…’.

And this struggle to restore the spirit of vibrant public universities with the intellectual autonomy of teachers and researchers, culture of debate and dialogue, a non-violent environment of trust and communion, and the living presence of an enabling VC who walks with the entire community of learners as a friend, philosopher and guide is the need of the hour. This struggle is not about ‘left’ and ‘right’; this is essentially about the very idea of a university: the university that encourages epistemological pluralism, intellectual honesty and fearlessness, and above all, the commitment to the dream of an egalitarian, ecologically sensitive society that unites patriotism and cosmopolitanism, or the local and the global. For a struggle of this kind, as teachers and students, we ought to undergo a rigorous process of self-enquiry. We have to ask ourselves: Do we really hear the call of our vocation? Are we honest in our academic pursuits? Can we resist the temptation of being sold as ‘products’ with fancy ‘CVs’ and the management of ‘networking’? As teachers, are we committed to our students? Or, are we mere careerists neurotically obsessed with self-indulgence? Is it possible for a ‘left-Ambedkarite’ teacher/activist to listen to a not so political colleague with love and tenderness? If we do not fall into the same trap of exclusionary thinking, we can succeed in creating a counter-culture: neither left nor right, neither nationalist nor anti-nationalist, but truly humane, dialogic and cosmopolitan.

This sort of satyagraha alone can educate our VCs.