On 13th January 2024, the Vice-President of Operations (VPO) at Ashoka University announced via email, the introduction of routine baggage scanning and metal detector screening for students, framing the move as part of “enhanced campus security measures.” This decision, however, was presented to the student body as a finalised policy rather than one open for discussion. Following this announcement, the Campus Life Ministry (CLM) and the Ashoka University Student Government (AUSG) sent emails detailing their meeting with the Dean of Student Affairs (DSA), during which this decision was conveyed. Crucially, the meeting was not treated as a forum for dialogue but rather as a one-sided communication of decisions.
This approach highlights a striking irony: while the administration seeks to implement measures ostensibly aimed at “protecting” and empowering students, it systematically excludes them from conversations on these policies. Students are not regarded as stakeholders in decisions that affect them most. This pattern is not new. On 12th September, 2024, during a meeting between the AUSG, CLM, and the Dean of Student Affairs (DSA) to discuss the disarray in North Campus, the Dean suggested that an open meeting might not be the most productive solution. Instead, the administration proposed preparing a detailed report outlining the timeline of events and identifying key issues, which would then be emailed to the student body.
Such moments expose a fundamental structural issue: while face-to-face academic instruction is upheld as irreplaceable, student grievances are deferred into the digital realm, creating a dissonance between institutional priorities and student engagement. This asymmetry underscores the need to interrogate the form of email itself. Although email has historically functioned as an effective tool for activism, at Ashoka, it often marks the conclusion of political efforts rather than serving as a catalyst for action. The structure of email as a medium—formal, asynchronous, and requiring administrative response—dictates the trajectory of student movements in ways that subtly shift agency away from the student body. Instead of fostering active mobilisation, email correspondence frames activism as a matter of appeal rather than assertion, with power resting in the hands of the administration to decide the terms of engagement.
The inherent uncertainty of email communication further exacerbates this dynamic. Students are often left in the dark, unsure whether their messages have been read or acknowledged, perpetuating a bureaucratic cycle of waiting and anticipation. Following the announcement of increased security measures on campus, in response, the AUSG issued an email on 14th January 2024, opposing the measures. They argued that the policy infringed upon residents’ rights to privacy and their unrestricted access to common spaces. The AUSG pursued the matter persistently, continuing the one-sided email thread for three consecutive days to seek clarifications from the administration on the rationale behind the policy and address logistical concerns, particularly regarding move-in day disruptions. However, on 16th January, 2024, the DSA emailed the student body, communicating the updates for a “safe and seamless return” to campus. This communication ignored the AUSG’s prior messages and adopted a "business as usual" tone as if the students’ concerns had never been raised.
A similar lack of responsiveness was evident during the 30th August, 2024, housing crisis. When no reply came within 24 hours of students raising their concerns, key representatives of the AUSG visited the administrative block in person. They found that senior officials—including the Dean of Student Affairs, the Pro-Vice Chancellor, and the Vice Chancellor—were unavailable. The absence of an immediate administrative presence, compounded by the silent delays of email communication, left students without clear recourse, underscoring the limitations of email as a mechanism for accountability.
In certain cases, email communication has afforded the administration the ability to remain entirely unresponsive, even when significant numbers of students have raised concerns. As of the time of publishing, the petition for an “Immediate Review and Consultation” of the security measures has garnered over 950 signatures, including those of faculty members. The administration has yet to respond.
Moreover, even when the administration does respond via email, their engagement is often fragmented and selective. The Vice Chancellor’s last-minute email response during the housing crisis was widely criticised for failing to address the substantive concerns raised by students. This disconnect is not incidental but intrinsic to the email’s form. Because email allows recipients to curate their responses, administrations can strategically amplify certain points while sidelining others. A list of student demands does not ensure a comprehensive administrative reply; instead, it enables selective engagement that diffuses the momentum of activism. In this way, the medium itself structures the possibilities of resistance, shaping not only what is acknowledged but also what is systematically ignored.
Despite these limitations, email remains an indispensable tool for mass communication, as evidenced by the recent surge of clickbait emails designed to drive engagement. This underscores its potential to amplify strategies effectively. The challenge, therefore, is not to devise entirely new methods of revitalising activism but to harness existing tools with greater intent and precision. There are already successful instances of email-based activism. For example, when the administration dismissed individual emails from the CLM and AUSG regarding the housing crisis, the Undergraduate Council of AUSG responded by circulating a petition, gathering signatures from students who found the living conditions in RH 6 and 7 unacceptable. This collective action prompted the Dean of Student Affairs to schedule a campus tour on 3rd September, alongside representatives from the CLM, AUSG, and students who had directly raised concerns. Accompanied by the Maintenance and Housekeeping teams, the tour directly inspected the issues affecting students on campus. This case illustrates how email can function not as the endpoint of activism but as an instrument of collective mobilisation—when strategically embedded within broader campaigns.
Thus, the question is not whether email can be effective but how its structural limitations can be countered through intentional strategies. At its core, the politics of email at Ashoka reflect broader tensions in contemporary digital activism. If email is to be a tool of activism rather than an instrument of bureaucratic deferral, it must be paired with synchronous action, public accountability measures, and organised escalation strategies. Students must reclaim the medium’s potential—not as a passive channel of appeal but as an active site of political engagement.
(Edited by Noor Sabharwal and Srijana Siri)
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