January 19 may well mark a critical moment for the future of student politics in Rajasthan's university system. It is the day when varsity vice-chancellors and deans, as directed by the Rajasthan High Court last month, are scheduled to convene a structured meeting with student representatives to work out a feasible, consensus-based mechanism for conducting elections in future academic years, with a final framework to be put in place within 15 days thereafter.
This is not a casual advisory from the high court; it is a time-bound mandate that binds both the government and universities. For years, student union elections in Rajasthan's universities have existed in a state of suspended animation—invoked passionately by student leaders, feared quietly by administrations, and often postponed by governments wary of the political risks.
The high court has stepped in decisively into this contested space, declining to order immediate elections for the current academic session while simultaneously ordering time-bound laying down of a binding roadmap to ensure that campus democracy does not remain indefinitely frozen.
The verdict, which was a one, judge bench decision of Justice Sameer Jain, is not just significant for what it allows or disallows in the immediate future but for the broader philosophy it expresses: the fundamental right to education and academic continuity of hundreds of thousands of students must not be sacrificed for the sake of rushed electoral restoration; however, democratic representation on campuses cannot be sacrificed at the altar of administrative convenience or political expediency.
The prioritisation that lies at the core of the court's reasoning is clear. Bench repeatedly reiterated that universities primarily exist for imparting education, ensuring timely completion of courses and examinations, and maintaining academic discipline. Any activity, including student elections, that might be a threat to this primary educational role should be very judiciously regulated.
On that ground, the court denied holding immediate elections in universities and affiliated colleges for the current academic year and stated that the courts could not involve themselves to the extent of micro, managing academic calendars or compelling races when the institutional framework is not firm.
This refusal, however, should not be mistaken for endorsement of the status quo. The high court was acutely conscious of the reality that postponement of student elections in Rajasthan has often stretched into years, eroding institutional mechanisms of student representation. Petitioners who approached the court argued precisely this point: that repeated deferments violate the spirit of the Lingdoh Committee recommendations, which envisage elections being held within weeks of the start of the academic session. Prolonged suspension, they contended, denies students a voice in decisions affecting fees, facilities and campus policies, and amounts to an arbitrary curtailment of democratic rights.
The state government and university authorities countered with familiar concerns—implementation of the National Education Policy (NEP) 2020, curriculum revisions, disruptions to teaching schedules, and the absence of a comprehensive, updated election policy. Sudden polls, they argued, could inflame tensions and disturb classes, examinations and admissions. The court accepted these apprehensions for the current year, but firmly rejected the idea that such reasons could justify indefinite postponement.
What makes the judgment consequential is its forward-looking architecture. All eyes are now on the January 19 engagement between vice-chancellors and deans and student representatives.
Equally important is the insistence on institutional accountability. Universities have been directed to constitute or revive student union election boards or committees responsible for preparing annual election calendars and handling grievances. Any decision to postpone or cancel elections in a given year must be backed by strong, transparent reasons recorded in writing—not vague references to law and order or academic disturbance. Deviations from the calendar, the court made it clear, should be exceptions justified by compelling circumstances, not the norm.
There is an uncomfortable truth about campus politics in Rajasthan. Student union elections are often no less intense than local body or even assembly polls. Crores of rupees are raised; caste equations dominate campaigns, and convoys of expensive SUVs and cars turn campuses into political theatres. For some, these elections serve as springboards into mainstream politics; several prominent leaders and ministers began their journeys as student politicians. This reality partly explains why ruling parties, fearful of losing symbolic and organisational ground, often prefer to delay or avoid elections altogether.
By acknowledging both the democratic value and the disruptive potential of student politics, the high court has attempted a delicate balancing act. It has refused to romanticise campus elections as an unalloyed good while also resisting the creeping normalisation of their suspension. Its observations on financial transparency—calling for proper accounting of student fees linked to union activities—and on the use of educational institutions as polling stations during large public elections further underline a concern for protecting academic spaces from being routinely commandeered for political purposes.
Taken together, the order sends a dual and unmistakable message. There will be no student union elections in Rajasthan in the current academic session. But neither the state government nor universities can hide behind academic justifications forever. Campus democracy must return—regularly, transparently and within a clearly defined framework that respects both ballots and books.
Whether this carefully crafted judicial roadmap leads to a genuine revival of student representation or becomes yet another document honoured in the breach will depend on the political will of the government, the administrative resolve of universities and whether the January 19 meeting takes place as scheduled and arrives at a conclusion. Any party can work to sabotage it and seek an extension in time. For now, the high court has drawn the line—and placed the onus squarely where it belongs.
