When activist Sonam Wangchuk ended his 26-day hunger strike at midnight by accepting a glass of juice from Union Health Minister and former BJP national president JP Nadda, something changed in a youth-led movement that had flared across the country. For nearly a month, Wangchuk’s fast had become the centrepiece of nationwide student anger directed at the Narendra Modi-led government following the devastating NEET paper leak in April.
People across all sections and States were moved by this man putting his life on the line to cleanse the system and seek accountability, even though it came while the retest was happening. His demand was unanimous: Sack Union Education Minister Dharmendra Pradhan over the NEET paper leak. However, just hours before the Cockroach Janta Party (CJP) and student unions were set to launch a nationwide protest campaign, that moral centre suddenly disappeared.
An acclaimed innovator, educator and environmentalist, Wangchuk has long been regarded as one of India’s most credible voices for grassroots causes. His relentless campaigns for Ladakh’s environmental protection, Sixth Schedule status and statehood earned him admiration well beyond political divides. Over the years, he built a reputation for standing firm against official indifference, often using peaceful fasts to push institutions towards accountability. His decision to join the NEET agitation instantly gave a scattered student movement the moral weight it was lacking.
The decision to end it all raises uncomfortable questions, because the movement’s central demand was never ambiguous. Protesters wanted Pradhan’s ouster and clear political accountability for shattering public confidence in one of the country’s most important examinations. The government’s response of holding re-examinations and promising administrative reforms had already been announced well before Wangchuk ended his fast. Those were procedural measures. If de-escalation was on the mind, then it would have served well to wind up before the march to Parliament on Monday.
Instead, Wangchuk called off his fast after receiving three written assurances from Ministers JP Nadda and Jitendra Singh: that peaceful student protesters would not face police cases or FIRs, that the government would consider a compensation package for affected families, and that the issue of examination accountability would be discussed in Parliament. Safeguarding students from police action is unquestionably important. Yet accepting these assurances on the eve of a major nationwide mobilisation appears to be a costly tactical compromise.
If the outcome was ultimately limited to written assurances of parliamentary debate, many will ask why such an understanding could not have been reached weeks earlier. Was it worth asking thousands of students to endure weeks of emotional strain and sustained protest only to settle for commitments that carry neither firm timelines nor the political accountability?
The image of JP Nadda offering Wangchuk a glass of juice also handed the Central government a significant political advantage. In a single moment, the government managed to defuse an escalating confrontation and planted an image of reconciliation, buying itself valuable political breathing space. Public protests thrive on sustained pressure, and momentum is often the key. By stepping away just as that pressure appeared to be peaking, the balance shifted from the protesters back to the government.
Wangchuk defended his decision by saying that it protected young people from police crackdowns and prevented further legal action. For the thousands of students who invested their time, energy and hope in a movement seeking genuine institutional accountability, the midnight compromise is likely to leave a sense of disappointment. The protests may continue, but one question will linger: Did Wangchuk’s retreat hand the government a victory it had not yet earned?
