Chancellor Rudrangshu Mukherjee in a recent interview with The Edict remarked that "universities should not be quiet,” implying that conversations, debates and discussions — which often result in political discourse(s) — are fundamental to a university’s existence. Of course, a university is only as good as its student body. Its character is shaped by the students' culture, active engagement and aspirations. At Ashoka, the student body has recently been attracting attention for its student-led movements and protests like the call for a caste census and condemnation of atrocities in Palestine which are often criticised for the lack of vigour expected in a university setting. However, beyond concerns of political activism, students now seem to be opting out of campus elections too, the most fundamental form of student representation for issues that closely affect their lives daily. The recent Foundation Course (FC) representative elections also reflect this troubling decline in political involvement. I argue that these trends highlight how a growing culture of individualism among students erodes the vitality of Ashoka's representative politics and possibly of the university.
According to the Ministry of Academic Affairs (MAA) of the Ashoka University Student Government (AUSG), only 293 responses were recorded in the FC representatives' election across the three positions, out of an undergraduate cohort of nearly 3,000 students. This means that less than 10% of the student population participated in the voting. This is concerning, given that the Foundation Courses (FCs) are a cornerstone of the Ashoka curriculum, embodying its interdisciplinary liberal arts ethos. Even in terms of their logistical and practical importance, the Foundation Courses (FCs) remain a critical degree requirement for every undergraduate student. They constitute 36 of the 160 credits required for graduation. The low voter turnout highlights a lack of engagement, even with something as fundamental as the FCs, suggesting that students feel little desire or need to participate in collective decision-making on campus.
This decline in student engagement parallels a troubling decrease in dialogue and organizing potential among students, a concern raised by founding faculty member Professor Jonathan Gil Harris as well, in an interview with The Edict. Such apathy toward participating in even basic shared discourse such as campus elections—suggests that students are increasingly prioritising personal interests over collective causes which is rather alarming. In collective endeavours, there is no place for individualism. They require individuals to transcend personal concerns, blur the boundaries between self and others, and embrace inclusivity. The vitality of a democratic community depends on the individual’s willingness to decenter themselves for the broader community. This is precisely where student representatives and governments play a crucial role: as they bridge the gap between the student body and the administration or academic departments, they uphold the collective interests of the students into a unified purpose.
Therefore, it is equally problematic when enough students don’t run for representative positions. In the recent Library Advisory Committee election, only one candidate was nominated from each constituency—Undergraduate, PhD, Postgraduate, and Young India Fellowship (YIF). A similar scenario was witnessed in the Academic Integrity Committee (AIC) election, with only a single candidate running. At Ashoka, the problem is not the lack of opportunities for representative roles — if anything, there are too many. Yet, the student body shows limited enthusiasm to contest these elections. The persistent absence from campus politics results in candidates being elected unopposed, undermining the very notion of an ‘elected’ representative when only one person is in the race.
Clearly, students are withdrawing from collective action for both, campus-specific and broader issues. This prevailing sense of political apathy and detachment also, in the longer run, contributes to the perception of Ashoka as an insulated, privileged space, where students seem disconnected from broader, shared causes. Overcoming this narrative requires students to engage in dialogue, debate, and get actively involved with one another. While collective action and political engagement extend far beyond the boundaries of a college campus, these activities often serve as the initial arenas for students to mobilise and express shared concerns. Meaningful participation in campus elections can act as a stepping stone, equipping students for activism in the real world. In fact, universities have historically served as powerful spaces for challenging injustice. A striking example is the 20th December 1973, protest at an engineering college in Ahmedabad, where students demonstrated against a 20% increase in the hostel food fees. The protest escalated into clashes with the police as students demanded the Chief Minister’s resignation, ultimately contributing to the dissolution of the state government. Such instances underscore the transformative potential of student activism and the importance of fostering this spirit within university settings.
Reflecting on these moments of waning collective resolve, I am reminded of Chinua Achebe’s line, “Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold,” from Things Fall Apart, a book I encountered in my Literature and the World FC during my first year. Now, his line feels more relevant than ever, as we witness a breakdown in student politics at Ashoka. For the centre to hold, the student body must come together. To overcome the current climate of disinterest, students need to move beyond individual concerns and embrace the collective strength that only unity can achieve. This unity is essential to restoring the vitality of student politics and reinvigorating Ashoka as a space for meaningful dialogue and action.
(Edited by Madiha Tariq and Srijana Siri)
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