Student life in higher education institutions is ideally meant to revolve around learning, intellectual exploration, personal growth, and preparation for meaningful careers. Universities are expected to function as spaces insulated from societal chaos and political turbulence—spaces where academic pursuits take precedence over every other concern. Yet, in India, university campuses have increasingly become hotbeds of political activity, organized elections, party-backed student wings, and ideological battles that often overshadow academic priorities. The most perplexing aspect is not merely the existence of student elections, but the scale, energy, and intensity with which they are conducted, mirroring the political atmosphere of state or national elections.
Across many Indian universities—especially central universities and large state universities—formal student union elections are held regularly. These elections often involve massive campaigns, rallies, posters, public speeches, and coordinated strategies. Universities go to considerable lengths to manage these elections, allocating resources, administrative staff, security, and time to ensure the process is completed smoothly. This raises an important question: Why do universities need election-like political activities at all? What purpose do student political parties serve in academic spaces? And whom do these student leaders truly represent?
The answer, though uncomfortable, is quite clear. These student organizations and leaders often represent broader political parties at the state or national level. Many student groups are officially affiliated with political parties, while others operate informally under the ideological influence of these parties. Funding for campaign materials, event management, posters, pamphlets, and even leadership grooming frequently comes from external political sources. While this is widely understood, it is rarely acknowledged openly. The reality remains that student politics in Indian universities is essentially an extension of national and regional political politics in miniature form.
This leads us to the crucial question: What is the need for such political structures within institutions dedicated to education? At first glance, one could argue that student unions provide a legitimate platform for addressing student grievances. They can highlight issues related to quality education, health services, food safety, residential facilities, academic transparency, harassment, and overall campus environment. It appears reasonable to assume that students require representatives who can raise their concerns to university authorities. However, this justification begins to falter when examined closely.
Ideally, universities themselves—through their governing bodies, appointed faculty, administrators, wardens, and staff—are responsible for addressing student issues. Ensuring quality education, safe infrastructure, good food, proper medical support, mental health services, research facilities, and a supportive campus environment is the inherent duty of institutions. The presence of student unions should not be necessary for basic governance to function. The very need for student-led bodies to fight for fundamental requirements raises urgent concerns: Does the university not care about its students? Why must students protest for their rights? Why must a parallel political structure be created to compensate for administrative negligence?
In an ideal system, students should not need to demand the basics. University administrations should proactively ensure quality and well-being. Yet, in India, university authorities—often insulated by tenure, hierarchy, and bureaucratic privilege—enjoy the best facilities while students struggle for even minimal needs. Professors and senior administrators frequently live in well-furnished campus residences with access to purified water, high-quality canteens, health facilities, and exclusive privileges. Meanwhile, students are left to rely on substandard food, inadequate medical care, poorly maintained hostels, crowded libraries, and sometimes unsafe dormitories. This disparity reflects a deeper social and administrative problem, mirroring the citizen–government relationship at the national level: those in power enjoy comfort, while those dependent on the system must protest for dignity.
Given this reality, one may expect that student leaders—elected through campus elections—would act as genuine advocates of student welfare. But does student politics in India truly solve any student problems? The answer, unfortunately, is no. Despite decades of student union elections in the country’s premier institutions, the same issues remain persistent. Across India, students continue to protest for food quality, library hours, mental health support, hostel safety, transparency in evaluation, scholarship disbursement, infrastructure improvement, and campus security. From central universities to state universities, the pattern repeats: promises during election campaigns fade after the elections, and students return to struggling for basic necessities.
What is even more disheartening is the behavior of student leaders once elected. Many become more invested in advancing their political careers than addressing student issues. The moment student demands clash with the interests of the political party backing the student leaders, these leaders conveniently distance themselves. When grievances involve university authorities aligned with certain political ideologies, student leaders hesitate to confront them. But when the grievances can be used to target rival parties or authorities, they suddenly become active and vocal. This selective activism exposes the underlying truth: student leaders, in most cases, serve the political parties that groomed them, not the students who elected them.
This phenomenon is not hypothetical but widely observed. Student leaders frequently go on to join mainstream politics, becoming state leaders, MPs, or ministers. Their journey begins with loyalty to their parent political party, not with a commitment to student welfare. Thus, student politics becomes a training ground for future politicians, not a platform for student empowerment. Students, meanwhile, remain caught in the same cycle of poorly functioning institutions, inadequate facilities, and weak administrative accountability.
The final outcome is disappointing: student problems do not get resolved. They persist generation after generation. Students graduate, new batches arrive, and the same struggles reappear every year—poor quality food, unsafe hostels, lack of research support, outdated curriculum, mental health crises, bureaucratic delays, and discriminatory practices. Nothing changes fundamentally. Student politics may create noise, visibility, or campus tension, but it rarely leads to lasting structural reforms.
My own experience at an Indian university vividly illustrates this dynamic. I remember a time when students organized a protest demanding better food quality in the hostel mess. Instead of responding empathetically or attempting to resolve the issue, university authorities issued threats through supervisors, instructing students to focus on their theses and discontinue the protests. They were warned that continued agitation could lead to disciplinary actions, including expulsion. The message was clear: you will eat whatever is served, you will accept the conditions we impose, and you will remain silent if you want your academic progress to remain uninterrupted. This experience felt strikingly similar to how common citizens in India are treated when they demand basic rights from the government. Those in power dismiss them, silence them, or intimidate them, while enjoying privileges funded by the same citizens.
Universities in India, financed by public money, are not private estates that authorities can control according to personal preferences or ideological agendas. They exist to serve the academic community, promote learning, and ensure equitable growth. When administrators fail to fulfill their responsibilities, student unions emerge not as a functional necessity but as a forced response. However, when these student unions themselves become agents of political interests rather than student welfare, the situation becomes even more problematic. Instead of addressing genuine issues, political student bodies chase symbolic battles or indulge in ideological demonstrations. They passionately confront issues that align with their parent party’s interests but avoid engaging with practical, everyday student concerns.
Political parties, too, exploit universities for their own benefit. Campuses are fertile grounds for ideological expansion, vote-bank cultivation, narrative-building, and leadership training. They do not hesitate to divide students along political lines—left, right, center, caste-based groups, identity-based organizations, or region-based factions. The consequence is a campus environment where political polarization overshadows academic collaboration. Students who genuinely need support for academic challenges often find themselves lost in a maze of ideological battles that offer no real solutions.
In stark contrast, the culture of several foreign universities is profoundly student-centric. Having studied in a foreign university myself, I observed significant differences: campus facilities were clean and functional, administrative staff were responsive, professors were supportive, mental health services were accessible, research labs were well-funded, and student voices were respected. Issues were resolved swiftly, without protests, intimidation, or prolonged bureaucratic delays. Universities abroad often operate under strict accountability standards, where student welfare is integral to institutional reputation and performance metrics. The concept of student politics in many such countries is vastly different—either minimal or centered around service, not ideology. Even when student unions exist, their purpose is limited to advocacy and welfare, not ideological battles or political alignment.
This comparison should compel introspection. Why do Indian institutions, despite receiving significant public funding, struggle to deliver basic quality of life inside campuses? Why must students fight for what should be inherently guaranteed? Why does political interference overshadow institutional autonomy? And more importantly, why is there resistance to reform from within?
One reason lies in the culture of authority that permeates Indian systems. Individuals who receive administrative power—whether in universities or government—often interpret it as authority over others, rather than responsibility toward others. This mindset leads to systems where those in charge seek control but rarely accountability. Students are expected to obey rather than engage, accept rather than question, and compromise rather than demand. This hierarchical mindset hampers progress, fostering environments where problems persist because acknowledging them is seen as a threat to authority.
Indian universities have great potential. They host brilliant students, talented researchers, passionate educators, and immense intellectual diversity. Yet, this potential remains constrained by systemic issues, bureaucratic inertia, and political interference. Student politics, instead of empowering students, often becomes a burden that divides campuses, distracts from academics, and fuels ideological conflicts.
If student politics must exist at all, it needs structural reform. Student leaders should be required to function independently of national political parties. Election funding must be transparent. Issues addressed must be academic and welfare-driven, not ideological. University administrations must be held accountable for functioning effectively so that student unions focus on representation, not rescue operations. And most importantly, universities must reaffirm their purpose: to be centers of learning, creativity, research, and holistic development, not battlegrounds for political agendas.
If any Indian university today believes it has escaped these issues—if it genuinely offers a student-friendly, politics-free, supportive learning environment—it would be encouraging to hear their experiences. Such institutions can provide hope and examples for others. But for the vast majority, the problems remain entrenched, persistent, and overlooked. Until Indian institutions collectively recognize student welfare as the foundation of academic excellence, and until student politics shifts from ideological performance to genuine service, the struggles of students will continue.
In the end, student politics in India has become less about students and more about political parties. And as long as this remains unchanged, student issues will persist—generation after generation—each new batch entering with hope and leaving with the same disappointments as their predecessors.
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