On 13 November 2022, I was taken to hospital after I collapsed at the South Asian University (SAU). A doctor said I should be hospitalised as there was a possibility of cardiac arrest. My hunger strike had damaged my health. On the third day of my protest fast, my sugar levels dropped below 60, and I became weak and shaky.
How did it come to this?
Some students of SAU, including me, had begun a hunger strike some days ago against the arbitrary expulsion of five students without any inquiry. We were protesting to push for an increase in the monthly stipends of those pursuing master's degrees, and representation in SAU's anti-harassment committees. Though more than 100 students participated in the protest, the university administration singled out us five to set an example. The university's plan to intimidate students by calling the Delhi Police to the campus had not worked.
Lying in a hospital bed with IV fluids injected into my veins, I desperately wanted to tell my story to the world - the story of the struggle of SAU students against a despotic university administration. But no popular mainstream media was interested.
Days later, on 22 November, my friend Ammar Ahmad, who was thrown out for a year along with me, suffered a cardiac arrest and was admitted to the ICU. The next day, more than 100 students marched to the acting Registrar's office and demanded justice for our friend fighting for his life in the ICU. The administration reduced the punishment and agreed to take care of Ammar's medical expenses. However, we demanded complete revocation of the earlier orders. But the university once again called the Delhi police to the campus. The police mediated and asked the administration to arrange a meeting with the protesting students and resolve issues amicably. The university administration agreed to meet the students the next day, only to deceive us once again.
Three days later (25 November), when Ammar was out of danger, Umesh and I were arbitrarily expelled, again without any inquiry. Unlike the previous orders, the new ones specified the allegations against us. According to the proctorial orders, the university had expelled us for forcibly entering the acting Registrar's office the day after Ammar was hospitalized, and for preventing him from performing his duties. The orders directed us to vacate the hostel within 24 hours.
Who would listen to my suffering now? Again, no popular media was interested.
There were many instances when I wanted to tell my story to the world, hoping it would bring us a semblance of justice. The university administration delayed my Junior Research Fellowship (JRF) for seven months, which meant I had to borrow money from friends and live frugally. All this severely affected my mental health. The university denied my request for the scholarship until they activated my fellowship, as in the case of other JRF scholars.
The acting Registrar prevented me from speaking during a meeting between the students and university officials. He raged at me for sitting in his presence, though he had no problem with other students doing so. The university administration arbitrarily expelled me without any inquiry. Umesh and I were thrown out of the bus that was supposed to take students to the new campus.
Umesh and I were not allowed on the new campus and were forced to stand outside the gate for nearly five hours. The university barred my access to the institutional email ID (through which I had applied to Oxford and submitted research papers to journals) without informing me. Security officials hauled Umesh and me like criminals before a committee to consider our representation against the proctorial orders. The committee accused me without any evidence, and later confirmed my expulsion.
I wanted to shout to the world about my pain at the hands of the high-handed university administration, which was willing to go to any extent to maintain 'discipline' and 'order' on campus.
I wanted to tell my story, but no mainstream media was ready to publish it.
Everything changed when I secured admission to Oxford University. Suddenly, leading media outlets were contacting me, asking me to share my experience from expulsion to Oxford.
At last, my story is worthy of being told.
Getting into Oxford after experiencing institutional harassment from the university might be an inspiring story. But what if hadn't made it to Oxford? Was I nothing before Oxford? Do I have to "achieve" something in order to share my pain and suffering? What about the survivors of institutional harassment who haven't "proved" their merit? Aren't their stories worthy of being told?
None of us have recovered from the trauma inflicted upon us by the university. My friend Ammar, who almost lost his life, has still not regained his speech. The suspension of four professors in a vindictive manner, for stating that police need not be called to the campus and not to punish students without following procedure, has further aggravated the situation. The sheer helplessness I feel, due to my inability to hold the administration accountable for their harassment of students and professors, leaves me agitated and vulnerable.
Aren't university spaces supposed to be democratic and inclusive? How can a university produce critical minds when it punishes its students and professors for raising uncomfortable questions for the people in power? The expulsion and suspension of students and professors at the SAU are violent attacks on academic freedom and campus democracy.
It has created a situation in which students, workers and professors will be afraid to speak up. The university's 'competent authority', who has approved the 'disciplinary' measures, will not tolerate any dissent on the campus. If this extraordinary situation on campus continues, it will be difficult for SAU to survive. I was fortunate enough to survive the harassment and write my story on a news platform. I can only hope that things get better.
(Bhimraj M is a scholar currently pursuing his MPhil in law from University of Oxford)
Disclaimer: These are the personal opinions of the author.
The South Asian University, in its response, said that no student was “singled out and punished” without a due consideration of all admissible evidence.
The university also said, "no student was ever 'treated unfairly and harassed by the SAU admin because of his caste status'. The Acting President [never] refused to meet any students, including “Bhim”, and if only the students had earlier met at least the Dean of Students."
The four faculty members, facing allegations of misconduct, have been placed under suspension, SAU said.