On December 5, Dhruba Kumar Bhattacharyya assumed charge as the Acting Vice-Chancellor of Tezpur University. The appointment should have been routine administrative business. Instead, it came after 76 days of sustained student protests, cancelled examinations, national media attention, and institutional paralysis. The question isn’t why students protested. It’s why it took 76 days for anyone to listen.
The allegations against Vice-Chancellor Shambhu Nath Singh are serious: financial irregularities reportedly exceeding Rs 14 crore, corruption, favoritism, and administrative lapses. Multiple inquiry reports have been submitted, yet none have been published. Singh has not stepped foot on campus since a September 22 confrontation with students. Yet he remained in position, drawing a salary and wielding authority over an institution in crisis.
This wasn’t a sudden eruption. The discontent had been building for months, visible to anyone willing to look. Faculty members resigned. Academic rankings declined. Students watched their institution deteriorate under questionable leadership. When they finally organized in September, their demands were specific and reasonable: suspend the VC pending inquiry, appoint an Acting VC, and publish the investigation reports. They didn’t demand his removal. They demanded accountability.
A Masterclass in Democratic Protest
For 76 days, Tezpur University’s students demonstrated what peaceful democratic action looks like. No violence. No destruction. Just sustained, organized pressure backed by faculty, non-teaching staff, and eventually national attention. They rejected classes, occupied spaces, and made the university ungovernable until governance improved. This wasn’t mob behavior. It was citizenship.
The Tezpur University Unit Front articulated its position with clarity that should embarrass the administrators who ignored them: leadership requires timely engagement, not last-minute statements issued only when political consequences loom. When Chief Minister Himanta Biswa Sarma finally intervened after weeks of silence, students asked an uncomfortable question: genuine responsibility or political self-preservation?
The answer became clear when the Chief Minister proposed appointing a Pro-VC instead of an Acting VC, something the students had explicitly rejected. Worse, the proposed Pro-VC, Dr. Joya Chakraborty, was seen as aligned with the outgoing VC and had not supported the protests. It wasn’t a solution. It was institutional tone-deafness masquerading as compromise.
While politicians debated optics and administrators clung to procedure, real damage accumulated. End-term examinations were cancelled. Academic calendars collapsed. Students saw their futures suspended in bureaucratic limbo. Faculty morale cratered. The reputation of an institution born from the historic Assam Accord—symbolizing hope and progress—suffered damage that may take years to repair.
Congress MP Gaurav Gogoi wrote to Prime Minister Modi describing a “deep institutional crisis” marked by faculty shortages, declining NIRF rankings, and stalled academic progress. His letter accused the Chief Minister of shielding the VC rather than addressing systemic failures. Whether the charge is fair matters less than this fact: it took a letter to the Prime Minister to force action that university authorities should have taken months earlier.
When Procedure Becomes Weaponized
The final insult came on December 4, when the Board of Management convened to discuss leadership changes. Students immediately objected. The meeting notification lacked the university letterhead and logo. It was issued without the required three-week advance notice. Permanent members were reportedly excluded. The “blended mode” format was not supported by university regulations.
These aren’t minor technicalities. In institutions, procedure is protection. It prevents arbitrary action and ensures legitimacy. When administrators violate their own procedures while addressing a crisis caused by alleged violations, they don’t demonstrate flexibility. They demonstrate contempt.
This crisis exposes fault lines that extend far beyond Tezpur. Central universities operate in an accountability vacuum. Vice-Chancellors are appointed by the President but face minimal oversight. Inquiry reports gather dust. State governments lack clear authority but bear political consequences. The result is predictable: dysfunction festers until it explodes.
Early intervention could have prevented this. Instead, silence was mistaken for stability. Student concerns were dismissed as agitation. Faculty warnings went unheeded. By the time action became unavoidable, the damage was done. The lesson is brutal: delayed accountability isn’t accountability at all. It’s damage control.
Tezpur’s students succeeded because they understood what many administrators apparently don’t—that institutional legitimacy depends on responsiveness. When institutions refuse to listen, citizens must refuse to comply. The students didn’t break the system. They forced it to work.
The Unfinished Business
Dr. Bhattacharyya’s appointment is necessary but insufficient. The inquiry reports must be published immediately. The investigation process needs transparency and clear timelines. Students deserve a restored academic calendar that doesn’t penalize them for their institution’s failures. And the nation needs systemic reforms ensuring that no student body should ever need to protest for 76 days to achieve basic accountability.
The real test begins now. Will this be treated as a crisis resolved or a warning heeded? Will procedures be strengthened, or will we wait for the next 76-day protest at the next troubled institution?
Tezpur University’s students gave India a powerful demonstration of democratic action: peaceful, sustained, specific in demands, and successful. They proved that institutional power yields to organized citizenship when citizens refuse to look away.
The question isn’t whether their protest was justified. It’s why it was necessary. In a functioning system, credible allegations of Rs 14 crore in irregularities trigger immediate investigation—not 76 days of stonewalling. In a responsive democracy, student concerns are addressed before examinations are cancelled, not after.
Seventy-six days. That’s how long it took for accountability to arrive at Tezpur University. That’s 76 days too long. The students have returned to their classes. But the institutional failures that forced them to the streets remain unaddressed. Until those are fixed, the next 76-day protest is only a matter of time.
