What else can one call this except a hullabaloo or ruckus ? The hullabaloo is coming from both the sides. One group is openly belligerent, carrying sticks and clubs, shouting stridently nationalist jargon tinged with bigotry—and, needless to say, without understanding what those slogans actually mean them , set aside larger society ; and society is really left with nothing but sheer confusion . After all , the development in this nationally acclaimed institutes have larger social ramification , thanks to wider media coverage .
It is being dubbed as an explosion of long-suppressed resentment of course by the votary of “Nationalist Camp” . In reality, since Independence, this saffron brigade—or saffron force—had never been able to enter this so-called “Liberated Zone”-a dreamy proposition of the ultra left or of the free thinkers . But why speak only of the saffron brigade’s adventurous intrusion, now ? The memory of the Red brigade (another variant of left popularly known as CPIM whose another catchy slogan is let return the left), some fifteen or sixteen years ago, similarly descending upon this so-called liberated zone, armed with rods and sticks and surrounded by thugs and goons, may have faded somewhat. Yet there is no way to deny that the CPIM variant of left had mobilized almost every miscreant from Jadavpur and its adjoining areas and unleashed an assault on the students inside that liberated zone in the past armed with police and miscreants .
One may conveniently choose to forget that episode, but there is no way to deny it. So the strategy of capturing the “Liberated Zone” from behind a police cordon is hardly new. If one recalls how the Red Party—the same Red Party whose slogan today is “Bring Back the Red”—once used the police to crush the opposition camp, even today it sends a shiver down one’s spine. In this particular craft, their extraordinary expertise makes everyone else look like amateurs. The Trinamool Congress, too, has not become quite as adept at such operations unlike CPI(M); by and large, it has remained preoccupied with extracting resources—money, coal, sand, rice and stone. Extraction of money specially from the job seekers or coming into unholy nexus with the criminals and underworld goons are there favoured practices and professions . Lucre is the main stay of their politics .
By a twist of circumstances, the Red camp has now entered this saffron campus and joined hands with the supporters of the liberated zone to resist the saffron brigade after forgetting their past role as marauder upon the “Ultra left” or “Free thinkers” . The words “resistance” and “liberated zone” have a certain exhilarating and stimulating ring to them. They create quite a stir in the blood of students (read free thinkers) in their early twenties. Once night falls, this resistance generates wave after wave. Throughout the night, young men and women—and the students—shout slogans together, drink tea and coffee, and tell themselves: this campus belongs to us. Eventually they grow exhausted from chanting slogans ; even lying down, they continue their slogans. In the morning they return to their hostels. With sleepy eyes, they watch images of the previous night’s agitation in the media. Seeing their own faces in the newspapers invigorates them further. Their agitation against the Vice-Chancellor and others grows increasingly heated after they charged with media coverage .
The days of Triguna Sen, Professor Gopal Sen and Vice-Chancellor Satyen Sen of Calcutta University are long gone. Looking at the present Vice-Chancellor of Jadavpur University, one cannot help but feel sorry. A person of, at best, third- or fourth-rate ability has been appointed an acting Registrar along with the Vice-Chancellor of JU whose pedantry is more or less recognized . Meanwhile, the political regime in the state has changed, and its impact has reached the “Liberated zone”. The saffron brigade has begun its own brand of tumult. The low-calibre individual remained silent as acting Registrar. And what other choice did he have? If one has one’s own people in Bikash Bhavan or Nabanna, one can at least make some noise. But here, there was no such luck.
In the past, when the liberated zone clashed with the Reds, it was the Reds who retreated, even though police protection was hardly lacking. Only about a year ago, the then Education Minister Bratya Basu had allegedly tried to drive his car over some of the activists of this liberated zone. Some say Bratya Basu had tried to flee in his car. One university resident was run over and seriously injured. Next day his mother wept profusely while attending her grievously wounded by the side of the hospital bed .
Now the story of resisting saffron violence has begun once again. But this is not the first time the saffron brigade has tried to enter the campus. Babul Supriyo, then a BJP Union Minister, tried to enter the liberated zone in his characteristically raw and immature manner. His car was stopped and he too was resisted. The then Governor and Chancellor, Jagdeep Dhankhar, rushed to rescue Babul. The saffron brigade had tried to enter the liberated zone then as well. But there was that “resistance”: teachers, researchers, students—of course, including women students—and women teachers joined hands and stood blocking the gate. The slogans rose higher and higher pitches, seemingly reaching beyond the adjoining localities and villages. Whether slogans such as “Dil maange azaadi, Kashmir maange azaadi, Afzal Guru zindabad” were raised on that occasion is not known. What is known is that the saffron brigade could not enter rightly into the campus ; in that sense their attempt to “occupy” the red fort is once again foiled as the main gate of the JU was closed from inside.
The tables having been turned and the police are on their side, so what is the harm if one might have a try for occupying the red fort. And that attempt has naturally assumed the familiar shape of the past: outsiders and criminals. Once again, unfamiliar, unknown outsiders and intruders were seen gathering inside the campus at night uncommon with the past practice. In the past the free thinkers resisted the outsiders, miscreants with the help of main iron gate. Truthfully, without outside musclemen and miscreants, the politics simply does not acquire its desired flavour. From the Red era to the present, it has all depended on such elements.
Over the past thirty-five years, colleges and universities have repeatedly had to face attacks by outsiders, lumpens, extortionists, motorcycle goons and predators—on occasion, even rapists. The depth of decay that can overtake a college is demonstrated by the presence of an outsider accused of rape at South Calcutta Law College and by the expansion of the “Kan-kata Debu” empire at Surendranath College. The unchecked power of goons, extortionists and lumpens became so extreme that the celebrated singer KK collapsed and died at what was supposed to be a cultural programme at a college. Trinamool Congress-backed miscreants had allegedly sold four or five times as many tickets as the venue could accommodate.
Meanwhile, the contractors of the liberated zone are shouting various slogans and are unwilling to allow any space whatsoever to their opponents. But the larger question is this: when slogans designed to inflame passions and generate excitement are being encouraged, directly or indirectly, by the media, where does it ultimately lead? Do those shouting slogans such as “Dil maange azaadi, Kashmir maange azaadi, Afzal Guru zindabad” actually understand what they mean? It is worth noting that these slogans, much like the word “resistance” itself, produce a kind of “turbulent swell” in the blood of the youngsters.
Three or four years ago, a female student refused to accept her diploma from the university’s Chancellor, the Governor of the state in the convocation. After freeing herself from the liberated zone, is she still mounting the same kind of diatribe and resistance against that system? One would like to believe that this is something more than a temporary media-fuelled excitement, but it is difficult to say that it is. This may well be the defining characteristic of the liberated zone.
Staying together in a hostel for some time, occasionally raising a few slogans and, if one is sufficiently dishonest and unscrupulous , continuing to occupy the hostel even after one’s allotted term has expired—that, apparently, is the extent of their activity. Even after the untimely death of Swapnadip, the tendency of outsiders to stay together in the hostels there has not diminished. The media remains silent throughout the year about this disorderly practice of “come, let us live together, bound together.” The everyday conduct and conversations of the inhabitants of the liberated zone are rarely questioned. Instead, such behaviour is interpreted through the lens of “freedom.” Once a fair amount of commotion has been created, media coverage makes them even more reckless.
Has this brigade ever been heard speaking about the decaying schools and colleges of the state, the broken education system, the acute unemployment, or the ocean-sized corruption in teachers’ recruitment? Let us leave aside other issues that deserve considerable attention, such as farmers failing to receive fair prices for their produce. What has this liberated-zone brigade said about the extraordinary shortage of school teachers in the state, or the mismanagement of the mid-day meal programme? It seems that, under the media’s indulgence and shelter, their enjoyment knows no bounds.
They appear to be absorbed in precisely those offbeat slogans that can bring them into the limelight. It is also a form of relaxation. But what exactly does the liberated-zone brigade gain from this mantra of “we will not let others enter”? How much has it improved the quality of their research? How much has it enhanced their reputation in the international academic world? Nothing, it seems, except relaxation.
Santanu Basu, Former Professor, Chanchal College, Chanchal, Malda
8918615802,
27 August 2026
