Why I swear by JNU's nationalism above anything else
In the summer of 1972, after finishing my BA (Hons), Economics course at the Delhi University (DU), I joined the Centre for Political Studies at the School of Social Sciences, Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU). The centre was located on a much smaller campus, which is now called the old campus, since the university later shifted to the much larger new campus.
I was starting to get increasingly bewildered by the JNU. Our convocation, for example, was to be addressed by Balraj Sahni, an actor known for his radical views. Our vice-chancellor, the eminent diplomat G Parthasarthy, had also invited the Left, to conciliate the leftist students.
The students at the convocation were a mixed lot: those from the Students' Federation of India (SFI), who owed allegiance to the CPI(M), Trotskyists (those subscribing to the ideology of Soviet theorist Leon Trotsky), those from the All India Students Federation (AISF), owing allegiance to the CPI, and free thinkers (liberals).
The Left insisted that if an outsider spoke at the convocation, the president of the JNU Students Union (JNUSU) would also speak. After some negotiation, the vice-chancellor agreed.
Sahni made a moving speech. But the JNUSU president sharply criticised the Union government for insufficient allocations for social expenditure, from education to rural health, and accused the government representing an unrepresentative ruling class.
The reaction of the media next day was a stunned and incredulous one given such a sharp critique of the government at a university convocation. We never had another convocation.
Cut to the 1980s.
During the anti-Sikh riots in Delhi in November 1984, the JNU campus is known to have provided shelter and security for many Sikh families. The students and teachers patrolled the campus day and night. Food and warm clothes were purchased and provided to the victims. Some of us worked for about two weeks in relief camps organised by the Nagrik Ekta Manch. I was among those who worked in the Shahdara relief camp. We used to reach the camp before 10am and would leave only by 8pm.
Once we were quite late and the military personnel on patrol were angry. But then we gave them our schedule and explained our method of first collecting information about the requirements of the victims and then providing for their needs. Noting gaps in our supplies, the officers' attitude changed completely, and they ordered a jeep-load of soldiers to escort us.
After the tsunami in 2004, the students and teachers of JNU collected money to provide relief in one of the worst-affected areas in Tamil Nadu. We collected a bit more than Rs 1 lakh. The collection could have been more, but most of the campus had already donated to the prime minister's relief fund.
We travelled by train and buses towards Tharangambadi on the Tamil Nadu coast. The devastation was terrible. Repeatedly, people came to us from their huts, complaining about the cold dirt floor.
A doctor there told us that many were suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. We went to the district magistrate's office and gave our details which were recorded. We adopted a school and gave all students textbooks along with waterproof school bags. To lift their spirits, we bought a lot of sports equipments. Many of the students were teary-eyed when it was time for us to leave. This is not an experience that any of us will ever forget.
I could go on and on about many experiences. The Delhi floods, the Emergency... but I hope this will show how varied our experiences were. The Emergency deserves a detailed explanation in itself. There were internal and external challenges. So it will require an extended discussion.
In the JNU, we helped out during national crises as much as possible, since we felt it was incumbent for us to help the less privileged and needy. No country, not to speak of university, can live by politics alone.