After youth-led movements reshaped politics in Sri Lanka, Bangladesh and Nepal, India’s Generation Z has achieved something unprecedented without seeking regime change

A woman with long hair wearing traditional attire, smiling and posing for a portrait against a white background.

By Rohinee Singh / Sapan News


New Delhi: The past few years have witnessed the emergence of a new political force across Southasia: Generation Z.

In Sri Lanka, youth-led protests against economic collapse forced President Gotabaya Rajapaksa to flee the country. In Bangladesh, students spearheaded a movement that ended Sheikh Hasina’s long rule. Nepal has repeatedly witnessed young people leading street protests that reshaped governments and altered the country’s political trajectory.

Now, the question being asked in political circles is whether India has entered its own Gen Z moment.

Unlike the movements in Sri Lanka, Bangladesh or Nepal, India’s youth were not demanding regime change. They were not marching against inflation or economic collapse, nor were they calling for the overthrow of the government. Their demand was remarkably simple: Accountability for the alleged leak of the National Eligibility cum Entrance Test (NEET), India’s highly competitive medical entrance examination, and the resignation of Union Education Minister Dharmendra Pradhan.

Yet within just thirty days, they achieved what India’s parliamentary opposition had failed to accomplish in more than twelve years.

A handwritten sign reading 'THE EDUCATION SYSTEM IS OFFICIALLY COOKED, WE'RE HERE TO SHUT DOWN THE KITCHEN!' held by individuals near an open cardboard box, surrounded by colorful materials and food items.
Handheld sign to shut down the kitchen. Photo by Rohinee Singh

On 25 July, Pradhan resigned.

For Prime Minister Narendra Modi, the resignation was more than the loss of a cabinet colleague. It marked a rare political retreat.

Since Modi became Chief Minister of Gujarat in 2001, he has cultivated an image of unwavering authority and a refusal to bow before public pressure. Across nearly 24 years in executive office, only once before has sustained public outrage forced the resignation of a minister from his government: M.J. Akbar, who stepped down as Minister of State in 2018 after multiple allegations surfaced during India’s #MeToo movement.

There have been policy reversals, most notably the repeal of the three contentious farm laws in 2021 after farmers maintained an encampment outside Delhi for more than a year. But that retreat came only after one of the longest protest movements in independent India.

This time it took barely a month.

A collage of protest scenes featuring diverse individuals holding signs demanding political change, including a sign that says 'RESIGN KARO'.
Scenes from the Cockroach Janta Party protest in India. Photo by Rohinee Singh

A movement driven almost entirely by students, amplified through social media and culminating in dramatic confrontations with police on the streets of Delhi, forced the country’s most powerful political leader to blink.

For perhaps the first time since Modi rose to national prominence, India’s youngest citizens demonstrated that organised street mobilisation could still compel a government long regarded as politically invincible.

Protest nobody saw coming

Narendra Modi was among the world’s earliest political leaders to understand the power of social media. His 2014 election campaign transformed Facebook, Twitter and later Instagram into political instruments that helped him communicate directly with millions of young Indians while bypassing traditional media.

Twelve years later, that same digital ecosystem became the source of his first major political setback.

A parody social media account called Cockroach Janata Party (CJP), launched only weeks earlier, unexpectedly became the organising platform for one of the most significant youth protests India has witnessed in recent years. What began as satire quickly evolved into a movement that resonated with students across the country.

Its founder, Abhijit Dipke, emerged as an unlikely face of the agitation demanding accountability for examination paper leaks and calling for the resignation of Education Minister Dharmendra Pradhan.

Within weeks, what the political opposition had failed to achieve through Parliament, election campaigns and repeated criticism was accomplished by memes, Instagram reels, anonymous volunteers and students carrying handwritten placards.

By the time Dipke announced from the protest stage that the minister had resigned, thousands had gathered at Delhi’s Jantar Mantar while demonstrations had spread to cities across India.

Senior journalist and Modi biographer Nilanjan Mukhopadhyay believes the episode represents one of the most significant setbacks of Modi’s political career.

“This can be seen as Modi’s biggest setback in his entire political career. A man who did not give in to any public pressure was forced to bow. In the past, he has always responded on his own terms and at a time suited to him,” Mukhopadhyay told Sapan News.

Mukhopadhyay, author of Narendra Modi: The Man, The Times (2013 Tranquebar), argues that politically the Gen Z movement posed a deeper challenge to Modi than even the aftermath of the 2002 Gujarat riots because it punctured the carefully cultivated perception that he never yields to public pressure.

From the protest site

An hour before Dipke climbed onto the makeshift stage to announce that the minister had resigned; two young volunteers remained busy treating exhausted students. Many of the students at the sit-in had been on hunger strike for more than a week.

Twenty-four-year-old Priyanu, from Haryana, spends months navigating merchant ships across the world’s oceans. Beside him stood Arham, a newly qualified engineer and mountaineer.

One belongs to the sea. The other belongs to the mountains. Both had received first-aid training through their professions.

Now those skills were being used to treat dehydration, bruises and injuries sustained during clashes with Delhi Police.

“We never imagined our training would be used like this,” Priyanu said while handing oral rehydration salts to a student struggling in Delhi’s July heat. “People think we are here because protesting is fashionable. We are here because if this can happen to NEET today, tomorrow it can happen to any examination.”

Nearby stood Rajat, who had travelled from Prayagraj in Uttar Pradesh. He carried a fading bruise on his shoulder, the result of the 20 June police baton charge.

Standing beside him, his friend Sudhanshu seemed almost disappointed.

“I missed getting hit,” he laughed. “Rajat will become popular back in college.” He paused before adding another explanation. “I’ve got FOMO.” Fear Of Missing Out.

That expression perhaps best captured what the authorities failed to understand. Every measure intended to discourage participation achieved precisely the opposite.

The government shut down metro stations around the protest venue. Students walked.

A person holding a large sign addressed to the Delhi Police, surrounded by a crowd at a protest. The sign includes handwritten text highlighting themes of accountability and the relationship between police and citizens.
Protester at Jantar Mantar holding up sign for the Delhi police. Photo by Rohinee Singh

Police resorted to baton charges and tear gas. Larger crowds arrived the next day. Those who had watched the confrontations online wanted to become part of them. Instead of creating fear, the police action created participation.

Students were seen standing smiling before police barricades. Many were posing for selfies with riot-control vehicles. Others posted photographs beside policemen carrying shields and batons.

Police officers whom earlier generations might have feared were addressed casually as “Bro.”

“Bro, why do you look so serious?” Ashita asked one policeman while positioning herself for a selfie.

A senior Delhi Police officer, requesting anonymity because he was not authorised to speak publicly, admitted that the administration had fundamentally misunderstood the movement.

“We treated this as a conventional law-and-order problem. We thought these young people would disperse after police action. Instead, every baton charge became content for social media. Every barricade became a photo opportunity. We realised too late that this generation responds very differently to fear.”

Fear disappeared

That is why many observers say that this protest has ended the fear factor, on which Modi had built his aura to suppress dissent.

Public demonstrations that once defined India’s democratic tradition became increasingly rare as successive movements were branded “anti-national,” “Urban Naxal” or members of the so-called “Tukde Tukde Gang” — perjorative for “break up gang” as in “anti-nationals” trying to break up the country

Author and journalist Prabhakar Mishra believes the NEET protests marked a turning point.

“Protest was always romanticised until fear overtook it. After more than a decade, we are seeing people let go of that fear. This generation simply isn’t bothered.” The placards reflected that confidence.

Images from youth-led Cockroach Janta Party protest. Photo by Rohinee Singh

In India, since inception, there had been an unwritten rule in newsrooms and with opposition not to target the seat of the president, prime minister, chief justice and service chief. They have been treated as holy cows.

But this was perhaps the first time that Prime Minister Modi was subjected to ridicule.

Several mocked the carefully crafted political narratives that had helped build the Prime Minister’s image. For years, Modi proudly described himself as the son of a tea seller.

Generation Z responded with humour.

“Chai banao, desh hum chala lenge. (You make the tea. We’ll run the country.)

Another poster borrowed Amitabh Bachchan’s iconic dialogue from the 1988 film Shehenshah before adding a constitutional twist.

Rishte mein toh hum tumhare malik hain. Naam hai We, the People of India.” (In this relationship, we are your masters. Our name is We, the People of India.)

The reference to the opening words of India’s Constitution was deliberate.

But this was perhaps the first time that Prime Minister Modi was subjected to ridicule.

Several mocked the carefully crafted political narratives that had helped build the Prime Minister’s image. For years, Modi proudly described himself as the son of a tea seller.

Generation Z responded with humour.

“Chai banao, desh hum chala lenge. (You make the tea. We’ll run the country.)

Another poster borrowed Amitabh Bachchan’s iconic dialogue from the 1988 film Shehenshah before adding a constitutional twist.

Rishte mein toh hum tumhare malik hain. Naam hai We, the People of India.” (In this relationship, we are your masters. Our name is We, the People of India.)

The reference to the opening words of India’s Constitution was deliberate.

A person sitting on the ground, focused on writing on a yellow paper with a marker, surrounded by various protest signs and materials.
Man handwriting his placard at Jantar Mantar protest. Photo by Rohinee Singh

While not affiliated with the organizers, a crowdsourced public archive of the posters, placards and photographs called Democracy by Design allows users to save them for future reference.

Different from Bangladesh, Nepal and Sri Lanka

Comparisons with neighbouring countries are inevitable, but they can also be misleading.

The youth-led movements in Sri Lanka, Bangladesh and Nepal emerged from broader economic crises and political demands that eventually challenged governments themselves.

India’s Gen Z movement was fundamentally different. Its objective was not to topple the government but to repair institutions.

“We have not gathered here to overthrow the government,” Akash told Sapan News, adjusting the handwritten placard resting beside him. “All we are asking is to fix accountability and make education affordable and employable. If examinations lose credibility, what future do we have?”

Around him, students spoke less about ideology than opportunity. Their posters reflected anger, frustration, and humour in equal measure.

Why Modi blinked

Since 2014, the Bharatiya Janata Party has successfully countered many protest movements by portraying demonstrators as politically motivated, anti-national or disconnected from ordinary Indians.

This time that strategy proved far more difficult.

The protesters were overwhelmingly middle-class students between seventeen and twenty-five years of age. They represented different castes, religions and regions. Many came from families that traditionally voted for the BJP.

Most importantly, they will cast their first votes in the 2029 general election.

“My parents support the BJP,” said Kriti from Lucknow, who turns eighteen later this year. “But I will read the election manifestos before deciding whom to vote for.”

Avyan was more direct.

“After all this, it definitely won’t be the BJP for me,” he said. “At least Rahul Gandhi can speak in English.”

Whether such views ultimately translate into electoral outcomes remains uncertain.

But Mukhopadhyay believes the BJP has encountered an unfamiliar political challenge.

“The BJP’s politics of religious polarisation has taken a beating. These first-time voters are unlikely to forget this episode. Winning them back will not be easy.”

The NEET protests may not produce a change of government. They may not immediately alter India’s political landscape. Yet they have revealed something important about the country’s youngest generation.

Generation Z has shown that it can organise without established political parties, mobilise through humour instead of ideology, and confront authority without apparent fear. It is digitally native, politically irreverent, and remarkably difficult to intimidate.

If Sri Lanka, Bangladesh and Nepal demonstrated how youth movements can bring governments down, India has shown something different.

Its youngest citizens compelled one of Southasia’s most powerful leaders to retreat without demanding his removal. For Narendra Modi, who has spent nearly a quarter-century cultivating an image of political invincibility, that may prove to be the most consequential political message of all.

Jantar Mantar: India’s Hyde Park

For anyone following Indian politics from outside the country, one place appears repeatedly whenever protests erupt in New Delhi: Jantar Mantar.

Whether they are farmers demanding fair prices, pensioners seeking justice, government employees, minorities, women, students or environmental activists, almost every major demonstration eventually converges on this stretch of road in the heart of the capital.

An architectural structure with a unique circular design featuring steps and arches, surrounded by greenery and under a clear blue sky.
Jantar Mantar observatory New Delhi. Photo via Canva.

Jantar Mantar is the name of a monument that was built in 1724 by Maharaja Sawai Jai Singh II as an astronomical observatory where giant masonry instruments measured the movement of the sun, moon and stars centuries before telescopes became commonplace. The road outside the monument’s walls tells another story.

Soon after Independence, the Indian National Congress established its national headquarters at 7, Jantar Mantar Road, transforming the neighbourhood into New Delhi’s busiest political corridor. First Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru used to sit in this office frequently, dividing time between his official work at South Block as head of government and attending to party issues in this Jantar Mantar building. 

The road became a site to vent anger against ministers and MPs to draw Nehru’s attention.

A view of the India Gate, a large stone arch monument in New Delhi, framed by an empty road and trees in the background.
India Gate in New Delhi. Photo via Canva.

But over time, protesters shifted to Boat Club near India Gate, as the Jantar Mantar Building changed hands and no longer remained the Congress party’s headquarters. But in 1993, the government banned demonstrations at Boat Club lawns in 1993 after massive farmers’ rallies paralysed the capital and redesignated Jantar Mantar Road as a protest venue.

Parliament lies barely two kilometres away, close enough for demonstrators to be heard without bringing government functioning to a halt.

Over the past three decades, Jantar Mantar has evolved into India’s democratic town square like London’s Hyde Park.

Inside its walls stand scientific instruments once used to observe the heavens. Outside its gates gather citizens trying to move governments on Earth.

This summer, it became Generation Z’s classroom in democracy.

Rohinee Singh is an independent journalist and author based in New Delhi, with more than 18 years of experience across national and international media. She writes on politics, governance, and issues of regional and global relevance for leading domestic and international outlets, in both English and Urdu. She is also engaged in India-Pakistan Track II peace initiatives and reconciliation efforts.

This is a Sapan News syndicated feature available for republication with due credit https://www.sapannews.com.

Why ‘Southasia’ as one word?
Because our histories entangle, our struggles intersect, and our futures are bound together. It is not just a spelling choice, it’s a political and poetic one.

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