Source: The Conversation – UK
As I strolled around the Jantar Mantar astronomical observatory in Delhi on July 28, the atmosphere was finally calm. Jantar Mantar had been the focus of the recent “cockroach” protests, in which tens of thousands took to the streets to push for education reforms in India.
While police and riot control vans remained, life was returning to normality. Street vendors and small businesses were bustling again. I joined people drinking tea and heard a range of opinions. The resignation of the education minister, Dharmendra Pradhan, a few days earlier seemed to satisfy the protesters’ calls for accountability in India.
But there were still competing narratives as to what happened in those few short weeks of protest. To me, after talking with many people on the streets of Delhi, it feels as if six words changed the political atmosphere in India completely: “What if all cockroaches come together?”
These words were posted online on May 16 by 30-year-old Abhijeet Dipke, an Indian political communication strategist studying at Boston University in the US. He was responding to a comment from India’s chief justice, Surya Kant, made from the bench during a legal case.
While criticising attacks on the judiciary on social media, Kant said: “There are youngsters like cockroaches … they don’t get any employment, they don’t have any place in profession. Some of them become media, some of them become social media, some of them become RTI activists, some of them become other activists, and they start attacking everyone.”
Kant later clarified he had been referring to fake degree holders. But the remark was widely interpreted as a slur against jobless young people at a time of high youth unemployment in India.
In response, Dipke created a website, Cockroach Janta Party (CJP), as satire – but within a fortnight, 22 million people were following his posts. He returned to India on June 6 and was immediately swarmed by the press at Delhi airport. Holding up a copy of the autobiography of the late B.R Ambedkar, who chaired the drafting committee for India’s constitution, he demanded the resignation of India’s education minister.
This was a direct call for accountability after the government had abruptly cancelled India’s medical entrance exam, which had been sat by 2.28 million students, on May 12. The National Testing Agency explained that a paper very like the one sat by the students had been leaked and circulated online.
At least 21 students are subsequently reported to have taken their lives in response to the exam’s cancellation.
Sonam Wangchuk, an educationalist and climate activist, joined the protest and commenced a hunger strike, along with some other students. On July 18, the 20th day of his fast and having lost 10kg, Wangchuk was forcibly removed from the protest site to a hospital. This was met with further outrage.
On July 20, the cockroach protesters took to the streets en masse, with Jantar Mantar, site of the astronomical observatory established in 1724, becoming the focus of activism for educational reform.
The ensuing march to India’s parliament building in New Delhi drew more than 50,000 protestors. Despite the peaceful nature of the protest, it was met with tear gas, police batons, pellet guns and excessive force against the young protesters.
The movement had three demands: the resignation of the education minister, compensation for the families of students who had taken their lives over the medical entrance exam’s cancellation, and the dropping of all charges against protesters – along with an apology for the police crackdown.
Pradhan resigned. The government agreed to meet the other two demands, and on July 25 the protest was called off.
The power of satire
The CJP bills itself as “the voice of the lazy and unemployed”. Yet the massive response suggests otherwise.
The movement called out to disenchanted youth – a generation that has grown up amid disruption, economic crisis, pandemic and wars. The satirical tone of the new party’s communication strategy proved an effective way to convey its serious message.
Political satire, which uses memes rather than merely rhetoric, can create what scholars call a “medium of value”. The young people in India have found a new identity through this.
A single reaction to a derogatory remark spurred collective resistance. The movement’s wider manifesto included calls for judicial reform, electoral integrity, increased representation for women, and the break-up of media monopolies.
India’s prime minister, Narendra Modi, reacted quickly, publishing video messages to the young people of India. He established an expert taskforce to examine the issues, and announced fast-track courts. On July 29, India’s parliament passed a Bill establishing stricter penalties for anyone found to be leaking exam papers.
On August 3, the Supreme Court announced that Delhi and other state governments would be allowed to withdraw “first information reports” – complaints against protesters – except in especially serious cases. It also said it would frame a new protocol governing the use of pellet guns.
What’s different about this protest?
The cockroach protest surfaced after more than a year in which young people had already shaken governments on three continents. Since 2022, Gen Z-led protests erupted across Sri Lanka, Nepal, Bangladesh, Madagascar, Morocco, Kenya, Indonesia, Peru, Mexico, the Philippines and beyond.
The triggers were local: economic mismanagement in Sri Lanka, a social media ban in Nepal, an unfair quota system for employment in Bangladesh, chronic water and power cuts in Madagascar, new taxes in Kenya, misallocated public spending in Morocco.
But the message was shared: the need for economic social and cultural rights, freedom from corruption and inequality, and dissent against a governing class that appeared to have stopped listening.
In Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, Nepal and Madagascar, governments fell as a result of the protests.
How does India’s cockroach protest compare? Where in many cases, the Gen Z protesters called for their government to resign, India’s cockroaches did not seek regime change. They peacefully marched for accountability within the system. And their demands were – largely – met through the machinery of Indian democracy.
Calling this simply a Gen Z movement misses the point. Young people and students were joined by their parents, grandparents, and even toddlers and children. Where the global wave was defined by the age of its participants, India’s was defined by an intergenerational solidarity gathered around a single grievance.
The global Gen Z uprising asked who should hold power. The cockroach protesters in India asked something more specific – and arguably harder: whether India’s governing institutions can still be trusted to uphold the constitution. For Indians, this meant something deep — guarding the soul of their country.
Susan Ann Samuel does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Original source: https://analysis1.mil-osi.com/2026/08/07/indias-cockroach-movement-how-satire-became-political-power-as-youth-protest-forced-change/