Let’s understand the chronology of Dharmendra Pradhan’s resignation.
History shows that whenever students unite in protest, those in power become uncomfortable.
Be it the FTII Pune agitation, the Jamia Millia protests against PM Narendra Modi’s proposed convocation, the JNU sedition controversy that sparked a nationwide debate on free speech, the University of Hyderabad (Rohith Vemula) movement, or the Banaras Hindu University protests, the list goes on.
The question remains: Why were they discredited or crushed from day one?
The answer is simple. Student movements have historically grown into broader political challenges. The JP Movement, led by students and Jayaprakash Narayan, directly weakened Indira Gandhi’s Congress. That legacy arguably concerns the BJP as much as, if not more than, the Congress.
The movement produced several prominent political leaders, including Atal Bihari Vajpayee, L.K. Advani, Arun Jaitley, Ravi Shankar Prasad, Subramanian Swamy, George Fernandes, Ram Vilas Paswan, and Nitish Kumar.
Nope, Modi was not on that list. Perhaps he received this lesson from his “Marg Darshak Mandal”: don’t mess with students.
So, coming back to today.
Let’s understand how the BJP fell on its face and why Dharmendra Pradhan resigned.
The BJP initially responded to the NEET paper leak controversy by downplaying or dismissing the protests, even as Rahul Gandhi continued raising the issue from 2024 onward. In 2026, the movement gained significant momentum as reports of student suicides spread across the country, intensifying public outrage.
What happened next, we all know. Let’s understand how the BJP may have played it.
They knew it would be difficult to handle students if they took to the streets in large numbers.
The immediate solution, in my view, was to find a new face for the revolution. They did not want to respond to Rahul Gandhi’s “Chhatron Ki Goonj” campaign, which could have given him political mileage. So, according to this interpretation, they simply ignored that movement.
Instead, I believe the BJP saw a fresh face like Abhijeet Dipke as an easier target: “Come to India. We’ll give you a platform, help you gain popularity, and then crush you like a cockroach.”
It is somewhat similar to how the British, after the Revolt of 1857, engaged with the Indian National Congress as one avenue to negotiate with sections of Indian political opinion rather than dealing with widespread decentralized resistance.
Abhijeet Dipke, knowingly or unknowingly, became the face of the entire Gen Z movement. At the same time, students protesting across India alongside Rahul Gandhi received little space in the mainstream media, for reasons many critics believe are obvious.
I have no personal grudge against Abhijeet Dipke, but I do agree with one of his statements: “Don’t make him a hero.”
However, some of his actions raise questions. It is publicly known that Abhijeet Dipke previously worked with the Aam Aadmi Party.
He is not Mahatma Gandhi, who returned from South Africa and immediately led India’s freedom movement. Even Gandhi took time to build his movement.
He was reportedly granted permission to protest immediately after arriving in India, even though the usual procedure reportedly requires an application to be submitted seven days in advance. If that information is accurate, there could be only two possible explanations.
Either the government was shaken by Gen Z’s growing influence on social media, or, as some critics speculate, the entire episode was used to divert public attention from the alleged Ram Mandir theft controversy that surfaced on 5 June 2026.
My concern throughout this movement is simple: how did all of this happen so quickly?
Why was permission for Abhijeet Dipke’s protest at Jantar Mantar granted so quickly? Was the standard procedure followed, or was an exception made in this case?
Was he planted by someone, just as some people have alleged about Anna Hazare?
Then entered Sonam Wangchuk. With all due respect for the work he has done for India, that alone does not place him above the spirit of Indian democracy.
He, too, needs to answer a few questions.
What happened during those closed door meetings?
Why did the demands appear to shift from seeking Dharmendra Pradhan’s resignation to asking only for the FIRs to be withdrawn and for someone from the ministry to speak with him so that he would end his hunger strike?
Then came Black Monday, 20 July 2026, when we witnessed police brutality in action: lathi charges, tear gas, and the manhandling of protesters.
One thing appeared to be missing. The CJP faces were not on the front lines taking those blows from the Delhi Police.
At that point, the protests were being led largely by Gen Z and emotionally charged students.
We owe an apology and immense respect, to those who took those baton blows for us and for our children’s future, including CJP leaders, Sonam Wangchuk, and many others.
Meanwhile, two leaders from the Cockroach Janta Party were engaged in closed-door meetings over demands that appeared to have only two possible outcomes.
The government’s answer should simply have been “yes” or “no.”
When meetings are held behind closed doors and away from public scrutiny, they naturally raise questions about transparency. At that point, they may appear less like discussions to address public demands and more like political negotiations. Critics may even view them as a quid pro quo, though such claims require evidence.
Sonam Wangchuk broke his fast, but in my opinion, he should have accepted that glass of juice from the protesters at Jantar Mantar rather than from JP Nadda.
If the entire agitation was genuinely about securing Dharmendra Pradhan’s resignation, then why did Gitanjali J Angmo (Sonam Wangchuk’s wife) criticize Rahul Gandhi’s decision to protest outside Narendra Modi’s residence when both appeared to share the same objective?
Were they truly trying to challenge the government’s ego, or were they seeking credit for themselves?
The resignation itself came across as egotistical rather than principled. It did not appear to stem from moral responsibility or accountability.
He did not resign on his own.
In my view, he was asked to resign by the party leadership because it could no longer control the narrative or contain the growing energy of the youth.
The Prime Minister called the protesters “friends”, yet failed to acknowledge the student suicides or the alleged excesses committed under his own Home Ministry.
A leader who chose to communicate through Mann Ki Baat and held no press conferences for over twelve years was eventually compelled to switch on his front camera and address people on Instagram. Yet even then, it remained a one-way conversation.
One point repeatedly highlighted by sections of the independent media became clear to many.
According to those reports, the Delhi Police and the government had planned the crackdown on students together.
That raises further questions.
What compelled the government to engineer such a swift resignation within just two days?
What is coming up next in Parliament?
Which bills does the government want to introduce?
How quickly will Modi’s government act on the two remaining demands?
One must continue asking questions, regardless of who is in power, and avoid becoming an andhbhakt.
I hope this protest and my writing about it encourages people to think critically rather than accept everything at face value.
If you found meaning in this piece, do share it with your friends and family.
Spread ideas, not hatred.


