When basic education requires legal battles
As a nation, we continue to fail vast numbers of our youth by not providing the bare minimum they need to move forward — affordable, accessible education.
Recently, a quintessentially Indian story hit the headlines. Atul Kumar, a Dalit student, fought all the way to the Supreme Court after losing his hard-won seat at the Indian Institute of Technology (IIT), Dhanbad. He had cleared the hugely competitive exam but narrowly missed the deadline to deposit the ₹17,500 fee, a sum his poor Dalit parents couldn’t arrange in time. It is a testament to the deep commitment of Kumar’s parents — Rajendra and Rajesh (the mother) — that they didn’t give up and fought for their child’s future, taking the case to the apex court, which then used its extraordinary power to direct IIT Dhanbad to grant admission to their ward.
But why is this story quintessentially Indian? Because it embodies the deep aspiration of our youth, the relentless sacrifices required by entire families to secure basic opportunities for a single member, the struggle to scrape together a seemingly “small” amount, and the institutional and political apathy that forced the family to seek relief from the highest court — relief, however, for just one student.
Kumar’s parents are the heroes of this story, but it also highlights a deeper tragedy: As a nation, we continue to fail vast numbers of our youth by not providing the bare minimum they need to move forward — affordable, accessible education.
The relief granted to Kumar is heartening but raises a critical question: Why must a basic constitutional right such as education require intervention from the Supreme Court? This case starkly illustrates the State’s abdication of its duty to provide the infrastructure and support needed for marginalised individuals to access a basic right. Kumar’s case also speaks to the persistence of caste-based inequalities embedded in our economic system. His fight wasn’t just about financial hardship; it was a struggle against entrenched discrimination that keeps Dalits disproportionately poor. Consequently, we find ourselves in a paradox where individual success is celebrated as an alibi to ignore systemic failures. The obvious question, then, is what kind of democracy are we building if access to the most fundamental tool for socioeconomic mobility itself remains entangled with caste and economic hierarchies. This incident also mirrors the contradictions within Indian democracy. On the one hand, “social justice” is experiencing a renaissance in political discourse. On the other hand, the necessary institutional and political focus to bring tangible change to marginalised communities remains absent. For every Atul Kumar who succeeds, lakhs fall through the cracks — unable to make the cut-off in some exams due to systemic disadvantages, unable to muster even small amounts (like the ₹17,500 in Kumar’s case) for life-changing opportunities, and unable to navigate an inherently exclusionary system.
While Kumar’s court victory must be celebrated, the real question is: How do we dismantle the structures that make such stories so common? Social justice must move beyond political rhetoric to concrete action. Here are two immediate steps that must be taken.
First, aspirants far outnumber available seats across fields — be it medicine, quality engineering, or other opportunities. Multi-layered structures of inequality ensure that those on the margins remain consistently excluded instead of being prioritised so that they may break the cycle of exclusion and marginalisation. One obvious aspect of this exclusion is the untenable privatisation of higher education in India. As per the latest available data from the All India Survey on Higher Education (AISHE) by the ministry of education, almost 80% of all colleges are run by private management. This is untenable in a country where 90% of the population lives on less than ₹2 lakh per annum. While high-tech industries like semiconductors and AI are strategic imperatives, empowering our youth is equally crucial.
Second, education is too fundamental for access to be denied due to a public-private distinction. Instead of rhetoric about increasing educational opportunities at some undetermined future date, our youth deserve access to education in the here and now. If this requires more robust reservation policies, so be it. Almost two decades ago, the UPA government passed the 93rd Constitutional amendment, empowering the State to advance SC/STs and other socially and educationally backward classes through reservations, including in aided and unaided private education institutions. However, there has been no movement on enabling legislation. Parliament — the Opposition could take the lead — must put its institutional might behind political rhetoric. In any case, the political mandate is already in place, and while a larger national consensus is created, various state governments can move forward and set an example for the country.
While Kumar’s struggle ended with a heartening victory, it highlights a deep, structural failure, and a reminder that for every success, lakhs are left behind. It’s time for the State — and political parties — to step up and deliver.
K Raju is a permanent invitee to the Congress Working Committee, and Ruchi Gupta is executive director, Future of India Foundation.The views expressed are personal