Student politics is the most dreaded reason for the decline of innovative minds in the state of West Bengal. Decade after decade, young, energetic Turks are being fed with the concoction of political dogma, which stifles creativity, intellectual curiosity, and independent thought. Instead of nurturing a generation of problem-solvers and innovators, the focus has shifted to ideological allegiance and political loyalty.
I was born in Kolkata and brought up during the Left Front regime. I witnessed firsthand the transformation of student politics into a central force within the state's educational institutions. My experience of school education was one of clarity and focus. There was no space for politics; my focus was purely academic, and the classrooms were arenas of learning, not battlegrounds of political ideologies. It was something I only heard about in whispers from older generations and was sternly looked down upon if I ever mentioned it in our daily lives.
But then, I entered college, and the arena changed. The stark contrast between the insulated world of school and the charged atmosphere of college politics hit me immediately. During my college days around the late 20th and early 21st century, there was a clear pressure to join the student union, a proposition that I swiftly avoided. I had witnessed with my own eyes the destructive consequences of student politics.
It was most probably in 1999 or so, a violent clash between the ruling college unions of three colleges erupted at the Jogamaya Devi College campus in Kolkata. It was a girls' college. What I saw that day was utterly disgusting and heartbreaking. Under the banner of unionism, a mob of students (mostly male SUCI, SFI students of Ashutosh College and Shyama Prasad College and a few female AIDSO participants) resorted to fury and violence, attacking our principal, Madam, and wreaking havoc on the college property. They broke chairs, tables, window panes, etc. A few of these political hooligans went so far as to grab the blades of the ceiling fans and swing from them like langurs. The result? The blades either snapped off or twisted out of shape, leaving the fans broken and the room in shambles. A few threw bricks at our principal, injuring her. The very place meant for education turned into a war front for political power plays. A terrified group of girls, myself included, scattered in all directions, desperately looking for an escape route. With the front gate barricaded by the mob, our only option was to scale the back wall of the building and flee for our lives.
This was not supposed to happen that day, not even expected to happen ever. Yet, it happened.
After my post-graduation, I got an invitation from our principal madam to join Jogamaya Devi as a visiting faculty, which I promptly declined. I had no intention to teach the bunch of langurs, even from the very college I attended.
Over the years, I silently observed the degradation of the education system in West Bengal, and I never felt the urge to serve the institutions. Getting a job as a teacher in any government school through the SSC exams was a joke. In my subject, it was even harder. You need to have a connection with a political leader or his associate to get a strong reference before applying for a visiting faculty position in college.
I taught students privately, and they benefited. I dared to approach any political leader from the then Left Front government to secure a job in the government sector.
After two decades of gaining experience in graphic design, advertising and digital marketing fields, I decided to retire and restart my career as a teacher in the same subjects. I started contacting my acquaintances whom I deemed helpful. This was when, again, the personal experience jolted me back to reality.
West Bengal is not a place to share your expertise as a teacher. Here your intellect is constantly overshadowed by politics, your sincerity mistaken for weakness, and your initiatives either exploited or sabotaged.
Let me share the story of a deliberate failure.
An enthusiastic digital marketer, driven by the desire to share her knowledge and do something good for the students of West Bengal, approached a college through a professor friend who believed in her ideas. She was asked to give a demo, which she did with clarity, energy, and vision. Impressed, they gave her the green light to teach digital marketing to around 350 students at their college.
What followed was five months of back-breaking work, nearly 30 hours of teaching spread across erratic schedules and minimal institutional support. Yet, she kept going, believing in the value of what she was offering. But her optimism quickly began to erode. Of the 350 enrolled, barely 20 ever showed up; most were disinterested, some were coerced into joining by their professors, and others simply dismissed the course as extracurricular fluff. Still, she held on, thinking that passion and persistence would yield respect and reward. Instead, what she received was silence. At the end of her tenure, not a single rupee was paid. No honorarium. No acknowledgement. No explanation. Just a certificate and a plaque were handed to her at the end of their term.
She was then told that she needed a trade license - that, if she formalised the collaboration, she could run proper certificate courses, charge fees from both internal and external students, and build something meaningful. Motivated by hope once again, she complied. MOUs were signed. Plans were drawn up. Courses were proposed. She was told that students would now be “seriously” sent to her.
Yet again, the promises dissolved into thin air.
Despite all odds, she launched her paid course under the formal collaboration. One student from the college turned up in 2 years. Just one. Ironically, several students from outside showed interest and enrolled - a glimmer of success that should have been encouraged. But instead, it raised eyebrows. Jealousy brewed quietly in the corridors. Some professors, perhaps feeling undermined or insecure, began to distance themselves or act coldly. A few crossed the line into open rudeness.
Not only was she given no institutional support, but subtle sabotage also began to creep in. No recommendations were made to students. No encouragement from within. Instead, there was indifference or worse, hostility.
Students from the college, taking a cue from the prevailing apathy, followed suit. They mocked her behind her back, sent emojis on WhatsApp groups instead of feedback, and reduced her efforts to a source of entertainment. What began as a sincere attempt to teach and uplift ended as a quiet character assassination.
Her reputation was slowly dismantled, not with accusations or controversy, but through whispers, ridicule, and complete neglect. A passionate educator was made to feel like an unwanted guest or worse, a joke. All because she dared to build something real, in a space where performance often trumps purpose, and politics poisons even the smallest acts of initiative.
After about two and a half years, the true intention behind the collaboration was revealed. Her presence, it turned out, was never about education; it was about optics. She was a shiny prop to boost the institution’s National Assessment and Accreditation Council (NAAC) grade to an 'A'. Once the grade was secured, she was discarded. Courses scrapped. Doors shut for outside students, and she was forced to carry on with her courses at a cheap rate of 450/- INR per student. What followed was financial strain, professional isolation, and public humiliation. All because she wasn’t playing the political game or worse, wasn’t from the "right" camp. Frustrated, she severed ties with the institution and left it forever.
This unfortunate experience reflects a deeper rot in the system, where political affiliation triumphed over educational aspiration. Here's how it unfolded:
- Cadres in the Classroom: Many of the students who enrolled in her course were not there to learn but to occupy space. Their social media was filled with pictures from political rallies, shouting slogans and flashing party symbols. They brought that same aggression and groupthink into the classroom, uninterested in learning, but keen to assert dominance.
- Freebies over Value: The culture of entitlement had already seeped in. Most of them were only interested because the course was being offered for free. The moment a fee was introduced for advanced learning, they vanished. They weren’t looking to invest in knowledge, just to consume whatever was free, without respecting the effort that went into creating it.
- Subtle Sabotage by Faculty: Jealousy and insecurity among professors played out in passive-aggressive ways. Students were subtly warned against the teacher, that she was "outsider", "too ambitious", or even a "businesswoman in disguise." They created an atmosphere of suspicion rather than support, discouraging student participation, and ensuring she never got the stage to prove her worth.
- Workshops Promised, But Never Delivered: The authority that had promised her space and exposure through workshops reneged on their words. The excuse was always timing, exam pressure, or lack of interest. Her requests were met with silence and avoidance, also. In truth, it was a calculated move to keep her subdued, to never let her rise to a position where students might see her as a role model, threatening the status quo.
In the end, the classroom became just another theatre of political performance, where real education was sidelined, and another willing contributor was crushed under the weight of ego, insecurity, and ideological junk.
Politics in the Academic Arena - Teachers and Students play their different ball games
When I was a school student, I often wondered what students got by joining a student union that represented a party. After all, any student union provides students with a platform to voice their concerns, push for reforms, and advocate for their rights. They exist primarily to represent student interests, organise events, promote social causes, and ensure that the student body has a say in academic and administrative decisions. Why does it have to be under a party flag? Why can't they be like plain students, addressing the needs of others in an organised manner?
The answer is not so simple. In an ideal academic setting, classrooms should be sanctuaries of thought, critical inquiry, and collaborative learning. However, in many institutions, particularly in politically volatile states like West Bengal, academia has become the breeding ground for new political aspirants or cadres. Here, teachers and students don't just engage in education; they play two different ball games under the same roof, often at cross purposes and with agendas far removed from academic excellence.
While some teachers genuinely try to uphold the sanctity of education, a worrying number have long traded chalk and board for party flags and agendas.
Political Allegiance Over Pedagogy:
- Many teachers secure and retain their positions not on merit but on party loyalty. Once embedded, they act more as ideological gatekeepers of the political party they follow than as true educators.
- Through subtle remarks, suggestive comments, and selective encouragement, these teachers manipulate students to align with their worldview, or, rather, the views of the political party they are loyal to.
- When fresh, dynamic individuals try to enter the system, they are met with cold walls. The fear isn’t incompetence, it’s competition and loss of influence over a vast majority of students destined to become the future party cadres.
- To them, innovation is seen as disruption. They prefer tried and tested syllabi, outdated methods, and a system they can navigate without challenge. Reform is resisted because it threatens the comfort of their inertia.
Students become Followers even before becoming Thinkers
- Students, fresh out of their cocooned school life, are meant to be curious explorers of knowledge. Unfortunately, they are often caught young and inducted into political tribalism.
- Instead of sharpening their intellect, students are sharpened for ideological warfare - protesting, sloganeering, and sometimes indulging in intimidation and violence.
- Student unions, often affiliated with national parties, recruit students not for thought leadership but for strength in numbers. Dissent or neutrality is considered betrayal.
- With politics offering subsidised everything, from food to education, many students become consumers, not contributors. The idea of paying for knowledge becomes alien, and teachers who ask for it are branded as “capitalists” or “opportunists.”
- Many are highly vocal in rallies, but disengaged in classrooms. Passion is reserved for protest, while lectures are considered optional distractions.
The ultimate loss:-
- Real education is sidelined
- Academic innovation is stifled
- Talented educators are driven away
- Skill development is choked
- Professionalism is never taught
- Students graduate with degrees, but without depth
- Many students lose interest in pursuing education and leave it to join a party
When this vast sea of uneducated, unskilled graduates and undergraduates steps out into the real world in search of survival, they are met with a harsh truth: no job seems truly suited for them. Corporate employers, seeking competence and professionalism, often don’t even glance at their resumes. Meanwhile, the low-paid, labour-intensive jobs in the unorganised sector fail to meet their aspirations or sustain their inflated expectations.
By the time they begin to grasp the gravity of the mess they created during their college years, lost in politics, protests, and purposeless rebellion, time has already slipped away. The waters of the Hooghly have flowed on, and with them, so have the opportunities they never knew they were squandering.
Comments
Post a Comment