The public mistreatment of senior Hindi fiction writer Manoj Roopda during a literary event held at Guru Ghasidas University, Bilaspur, Chhattisgarh, is not just an unfortunate incident but a clear indication of the deepening crisis in academic and cultural life in our times. Humiliating an invited writer on stage and asking him to leave the event is completely contrary to the tradition in which universities have been seen as centers of free exchange of ideas, respect for dissent, and constructive dialogue. This incident is not limited to an individual; it is a direct attack on literature, freedom of expression, and intellectual dignity.

The historical role of universities has not been to be subservient to power. From ancient learning traditions like Nalanda and Takshashila to modern universities, these institutions have always fostered a culture of questioning, reasoning, and challenging established notions. Universities are not merely degree-granting machines; they are centers that guide the consciousness of society. Here, diversity of thought, dissent, and debate are not considered weaknesses but intellectual strengths. Therefore, when scenes of power-mongering, arrogance, and intolerance emerge within a university, it becomes evidence not just of a program's failure but of the erosion of institutional values.
Manoj Roopda is a powerful and respected name in contemporary Hindi fiction. His stories and novels boldly expose the complex relationships between power, society, and the individual. He is among those writers who have considered literature not merely a subject of beauty but a medium of social intervention. Inviting such a writer should have been a symbol of the university's intellectual commitment and openness. However, his treatment demonstrates that discomfort with critical thinking and independent thought has somehow triumphed over prudence. It is natural to ask: will universities now be limited to formal events, eulogies, and power-friendly speeches?
A position like that of Vice-Chancellor reuires not only administrative competence but also ethical leadership and academic sensitivity. This position should symbolize restraint, dialogue, and inclusion. If the head of a university begins to perceive criticism or dissent as a personal challenge, its impact is not limited to a single program. An atmosphere of fear gradually spreads throughout the campus. Teachers become reluctant to speak openly, students fear asking questions, and creativity succumbs to self-censorship. In such a situation, the university deviates from its original purpose and, instead of being a center of knowledge, becomes an instrument of discipline and control.
Another worrying aspect of this incident is that the institutional level lacked the sensitivity and firmness required to protect the honor of the invited writer. The success of literary events is not measured solely by stage decorations, posters, and formal speeches, but by how open, respectful, and meaningful the dialogue is. When a writer is insulted and an institution remains silent, that silence becomes a form of acquiescence. This silence encourages further oppressive behavior in the future and undermines the institution's moral credibility.
It's important to remind ourselves that universities are not the private fiefdom of any individual or official. They are governed by public resources, taxpayer funds, and the trust of society. The decisions made and the behavior displayed here serve as a message to society. If power, personal ego, and intolerance dominate universities, a culture of confrontation and fear begins to flourish in society, replacing dialogue. This trend is detrimental not only to literature and education, but also to democratic values, for the very foundation of democracy is the respect for plurality of opinions and dissent.
Literature and intellectual discourse have played a vital role in the soul of Indian democracy. From the freedom struggle to social reform movements, writers and thinkers have questioned power and inspired society to introspect. If writers and thinkers are humiliated in universities today, it would be a grave insult to the tradition that has made us a vibrant democratic society. It is ironic that if the institutions expected to provide ideological leadership begin to set examples of intolerance, where will society be headed?
It is certainly noteworthy that some university faculty members attempted to manage the situation and find a respectful solution. This demonstrates that discretion and sensitivity have not yet completely vanished within the institution. However, it is also true that when the intoxication of power overrides discretion, individual efforts often prove ineffective. Institutional culture can only change when the leadership itself is willing to engage in dialogue and self-criticism.
This incident also forces us to reconsider the role of writers and intellectuals. When injustice is done to a writer and the entire literary community remains silent, this silence itself becomes a political and moral statement. History bears witness that silence has always strengthened power and weakened resistance. If there is no clear and collective response to this incident today, tomorrow it will be repeated by another writer, another idea, and another platform.
The fundamental nature of literature is one of questioning and resistance. It was born not to bow down to power, but to hold it up to the mirror. If writers themselves do not stand up to defend their dignity and freedom, literature will gradually be reduced to mere careers and awards. Then it will become a decorative tool of the system, not the soul of society.
Today, it is essential that university administrations, faculty, students, and literary societies learn a lesson from this incident. Universities must introspect about the kind of academic environment they are fostering. Are they encouraging dialogue and debate, or fear and obedience? Literary events must be viewed not as mere formalities, but as vibrant ideological platforms where even dissent can be expressed with respect.
This incident is shameful and warrants strong condemnation, but beyond condemnation, we need to engage in substantial introspection and reform. Universities must ensure that no invited author or speaker is treated this way in the future. Academic freedom and dignity are protected not by mere paper policies, but by behavior and culture.
Ultimately, the question isn't just about Manoj Roopda or any one program. The question is what kind of university and what kind of society we want to build. If we fear thought, are afraid of questions, and try to suppress dissent with insults, we will move from a vibrant democracy to a society of fear. Universities must remember that they exist not by the grace of power, but by knowledge, dialogue, and independent consciousness. If this consciousness is crushed, universities will become mere buildings—monuments not of knowledge, but of silence.