Gen Z’s Jantar Mantar: The Day Fear Lost and a Minister Resigned
There are moments in a nation’s life when the streets begin to believe that they are not just streets – they are stages. Stages on which history is written not with the ink of power, but with the sweat of the powerless. Last night, Jantar Mantar turned into one such stage. A resignation arrived. Not a resignation handed over in the quiet corridors of Shastri Bhawan, but one that was snatched on the asphalt, under the open sky, by a generation that the powerful had hoped would remain permanently asleep.
Dharmendra Pradhan, the Education Minister of India, had to step down. The protest that had been simmering at Jantar Mantar – organised by the youth who call themselves “Gen Z” of this movement, or more pointedly, Jinji – came to its first great crescendo. The tents were folded, but the country’s young are still swimming in a sea of celebration. It wasn’t just a minister’s chair that was emptied. A carefully constructed architecture of intimidation received its first major crack.
The Night the Minister Fell
The visuals are telling. A little while after the news of the resignation spread, the demonstrators at Jantar Mantar erupted. Hands shot up in the air, fingers shaped into victory signs, the air thick with a joy that can only be understood by those who have been repeatedly beaten and told that they can never win. “Resignation is a very small thing,” someone shouted. In a government that has perfected the art of never offering sacrifice, the acceptance of even a symbolic exit feels monumental. The Modi government, which has treated its own ministers as permanent ornaments, agreed to all three demands put forward by the protesters’ group – calls for a probe into the NEET paper leak scandal, concrete safeguards, and accountability. And then, in a sight rarer than a blue moon, the same government that had labelled these very students as agents of China and Pakistan, sat down with their representatives for a meeting.
Think about that. The regime, which for months had allowed its propaganda machinery to paint these aspiring doctors and engineers as anti-nationals, had to face them across a table. The narrative of sedition, so loosely hurled, collapsed the moment the state was forced to negotiate.
Who is Voldemort?
To understand the symbolic universe of this movement, you must enter the world of the young – a world of Harry Potter. The protesters frequently invoked Voldemort, the dark wizard who wanted to fill people’s brains with magical garbage, to control the world through fear, to become immortal and so terrifying that no one dared to speak his name. In the films, Voldemort is ultimately defeated by a group of children. At Jantar Mantar, a young woman said she had written in her diary, “When Voldemort was defeated by students, what is Dharmendra Pradhan?” The answer echoed through the streets: nothing. The establishment, which had spent years building an aura of invincibility, was reduced to a powerless villain whose name could now be taken lightly.
The comparison is not child’s play. It reveals a deep, damning critique: a government that has sought to control minds, to fill public discourse with mythological falsehoods, to make itself appear eternal and above question, is now being vanquished by the very generation it tried to dumb down.
Two Protests, Two Responses: A Stark Contrast
To feel the full weight of this moment, one must remember the farmers’ agitation. Over a year, under scorching sun and bitter cold, thousands of farmers camped on Delhi’s borders. Over 700 farmers, according to reports, lost their lives. Their leaders were insulted, branded as Khalistani terrorists, and the government steadfastly refused to even call them for a dialogue, let alone meet them with respect. The image of that betrayal still burns in the country’s memory. Now, look at the contrast:
| Dimension | Farmers’ Protest (2020-21) | NEET/Jinji Protest (2024) |
|---|---|---|
| Duration | Over 12 months | Several weeks |
| Reported Deaths | 700+ | None, but repeated police violence |
| Government’s Stance | Called them terrorists; refused to meet leaders | Initially labelled as foreign agents; later met representatives |
| Ministerial Resignation | None | Education Minister resigned |
| Demands Accepted | Partial repeal of laws after immense pressure | All three key demands accepted |
| Media Portrayal | “Khalistani”, “anti-national” | “Chinese/Pakistani agents” before the U-turn |
The table does not lie. A regime that had perfected the art of criminalising dissent suddenly discovered the vocabulary of reconciliation when confronted by a fresh, undamaged cohort of citizens. The difference is not just political; it is generational. The farmers’ resilience was met with contempt; the students’ creative rage was met with a hasty retreat.
The Language of Rebellion
This movement has done more than force a resignation. It has demonstrated a new grammar of protest. The chants that rose from Jantar Mantar – “Jab Modi darta hai, police ko aage karta hai” (When Modi is scared, he pushes the police forward) – are not slogans shaped in old workshops. They are spontaneous, biting, and surgically precise. They expose the regime’s oldest trick: using brute force as the first and only response to fear. And the students faced that brute force too. Delhi Police’s violence was endured, but not silently. It was absorbed, recorded, and turned into a weapon of its own.
The innovation didn’t stop at slogans. The generation that has been dismissed as “Instagram-obsessed” used the same platform to tear down the Prime Minister’s carefully curated image. Once, Narendra Modi addressed the nation at 8 PM with the solemnity of a monarch. Now, he is compelled to release an Instagram reel at midnight, in a corporate, sanitized form, trying to match the rhythm of the young he has neglected. The power shift is unmistakable. The political language that the RSS and BJP believed was their exclusive property has been snatched by a generation that knows how to meme, how to rhyme, how to make a mockery of power in real time. They have shown that the monopoly over political expression, which the Sangh built over 12 years, is a myth.
The Criminalization of Questions
For more than a decade, dissent in India has been systematically criminalised. The students who asked questions during the CAA protests – Umar Khalid, Sharjeel Imam, and countless others – still languish in prisons. Opposition voices were reduced to the status of accused. The political domain was colonised, and the right to speak was reserved for those who echo the ruler. Yet, at Jantar Mantar, a new chapter was written. When the government tried its old script – calling the youngsters agents of China and Pakistan – the script didn’t stick. The protesters refused to be caged by the false binary of nationalism. They stood as students, as India’s future, and they reclaimed the right to ask: “What did you do with our examination papers?”
This refusal to be terrorised is not an accident. It is the result of long-gestating anger. The movement of Jinji has reminded the nation that a question is not sedition. A protest is not a conspiracy. And a government that forgets this basic civics lesson will be taught on the streets, again and again.
Godi Media’s Predictable Fall
Every authoritarian structure has its echo chamber. The pro-government media – the Godi media – never tires of being wrong. In this movement, as in every democratic resistance of the past decade, they played their assigned role: they labelled the students as foreign agents, they spread conspiracies about destabilisation, they questioned the “intent” of the youth. And once again, they stand proven wrong, their credibility in tatters. But be warned: they will now try to manufacture a comeback. New stages will be set, new narratives of “anti-national” will be spun. But the young have looked into the eyes of the regime’s propaganda machine and seen only empty husks. The spell is breaking.
The Beginning of the End of Fear
The resignation of a minister is a tiny chapter. What truly happened at Jantar Mantar is the death of a particular kind of fear. The movement’s participants have internalised the lesson of all great struggles: the street belongs to those who walk on it. The government may return. It will certainly come back with newer methods of intimidation, but the genie is out. The young have tasted victory and they know now that the Voldemort of Indian politics is afraid of their voice. They have a name for themselves – Jinji – and they have a name for those who try to silence them. The battle is far from over, but the myth of an unshakeable government has been deflated, in full public view, under the Jantar Mantar sky.
Criticisms
- The overarching fear machinery is perpetuated by the central government.
- Youth protesters were branded as agents of Pakistan and China without evidence.
- Over 700 farmer deaths during the agitation were left unacknowledged by the administration.
- A political language of obedience was aggressively imposed by the RSS-BJP combine over 12 years.
- Dissenters such as Umar Khalid and Sharjeel Imam are still incarcerated on charges widely seen as politically motivated.
- The Education Minister’s resignation was forced only after intense public pressure, not through institutional accountability.
- The pro-government media consistently manufactured conspiracies to discredit genuine student protests.
- Police violence against peaceful demonstrators was deployed as a standard suppression tactic.
- The Prime Minister’s communication style was reduced to a hollow Instagram reel in a belated attempt to connect with the disenchanted youth.
- The state’s narrative of “anti-national” was weaponised to delegitimize any demand for transparency or justice.