Inside the sprawling office of the vice-chancellor of Jawaharlal Nehru University in New Delhi, its occupant, Mamidala Jagadesh Kumar, seems rather diminutive. When he greets me in a soft voice, it seems even more ironic that he is capable of raising so many hackles and creating a storm of this magnitude.
On Kargil Vijay Diwas last month, he suggested that JNU install a battle tank on campus to honour the “sacrifices and valour” of the Indian Army. While this statement was heavily criticised for being too dictatorial, Kumar believes that it was only to represent the strong JNU alumni community among the armed forces. “Even the Jamia Millia Islamia University has an air force plane. I’m not saying it has to be a tank, it could be any symbol,” he says.
But this is only the most recent political hot potato that Kumar has seen during his troubled tenure. Soon after he assumed the vice-chancellor’s office in January 2016, widespread protests broke out on campus over an event that was allegedly organised to commemorate the death penalty given to Afzal Guru. The protests quickly escalated beyond the campus and led to the arrest of JNU’s Students’ Union members.
The charge against Kumar at the time was that he did not support the students who were arrested and instead, seemed to agree with the views that members of the Akhil Bharatiya Vidyarthi Parishad, the student’s wing of the Bharatiya Janata Party, had put forth. A few months later, the mysterious disappearance of Najeeb Ahmed, a JNU student, also saw a lukewarm response from the vice-chancellor, believed to be motivated by the fact that the accused were members of ABVP.
This seemingly partisan attitude has been seen as a continuation of his history with other affiliates of the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh — Kumar is believed to have attended events organised by Vijnana Bharti, the “swadeshi science” wing of the RSS. Before he took office, Kumar told journalists that he only attended these events because they were related to the field of science.
Those who know him closely may well agree with this. After all, the professor who grew up in a financially challenged home in Telangana always had a certain affinity to science and, by extension, teaching. “My father was a teacher in our village in Mamidala and he was my first source of inspiration,” he says. His mother, on the other hand, was barely literate. Kumar was the first generation university-goer in his family. After his father died when Kumar was still young, leaving him with a family to fend for, various scholarships were what allowed him to study at one of the country’s most premier institutions: Indian Institution of Technology (IIT), Madras.
At IIT, he would often help his classmates with tricky coursework and hear them sing his praises. “This greatly helped me build my self-esteem and confidence, which also permeated to other areas of my personality,” says Kumar.
Sitting in an office where even the couch has the trademark towel to signify his seat, it seems unlikely that the formidable administrator was ever an awkward young boy. But it was a while before he got over the awkwardness he first felt sitting among students from big cities, where his mannerisms and spoken skills revealed his rural lineage. While he speaks perfect English, certain phrases have a distinct Telugu enunciation. “My Hindi still needs a lot of improvement,” he laughs.
That, however, doesn’t stop him from relishing Hindustani classical music, especially with his wife, Laxmi. With an MBA in marketing, Kumar says Laxmi is now his “home manager”. Their two sons are both engineers. When he does get some time away from his classes at IIT Delhi and his duties as the vice-chancellor, Laxmi and he take long walks. “This is the time we spend talking about everything mundane and philosophical.” He looks almost shy speaking about this.
True to his persona of the teacher, he shares sage-like wisdom on life and happiness. “A teacher is a lifelong learner” and “students should be mentored to become better learners” almost sound like the “mantras” he swears by. These become tangible in the course of an hour-long lecture that he takes at IIT Delhi. A professor known for his punctuality and discipline, he seems more easy-going and approachable than formidable.
The class strength for the lecture at 8 am is robust, where a group of about 30 students across graduate, post-graduate and doctoral levels are learning about pure and impure semiconductors. While I am as far from physics as anyone can be, his lecture is surprisingly enjoyable and engaging. I carry some reading material to keep myself awake, but realise the hour has passed by without my reaching for it. His delivers his lecture in a soft voicethat cannot be mistaken for being meek. When he gets an incorrect reply, he makes a witty remark rather than admonish the student.
To sum up the lecture, he tells his students that the pace of these sessions will keep increasing from here on. “By the end of this semester, you will feel like you’re running, and that it has become easy. And then, your results will come in and tell a completely different story,” he chuckles along with his class. “Never stop working hard,” he says with a smile.
Two students, after the lecture, seem hesitant to talk about Kumar. “We can only say that he is really the best. You don’t need to ask anyone, just check his blog and the student feedback he has shared,” says one of them before they rush off.
On the blog, Kumar has shared an extensive biography with links to student feedback forms that are now the norm at IIT Delhi. When Kumar had joined the campus as a young assistant professor in 1995, those forms he says were “rudimentary”. The committee that was consequently formed to create a more comprehensive system included him on the panel. That was his first stint in an administrative scenario, and there has been no looking back since.
When asked about the various storms he seems to have found himself in, he replies with a relaxed smile, “Do I look like I am at the centre of a controversy? In all this time, I have learnt how to laugh at myself.” Walking the tightrope between being an academician and an administrator has not been easy, though. While he claims these controversies have not affected the academic environment or the quantum of research at the university, there are others among faculty and students who believe that his presence has eroded the free-thinking spirit of JNU.
Students believe that while the ABVP members are given a free reign to “unleash violence” on other students, voices of dissent within the campus are stifled. “This was not the JNU I first joined. He keeps claiming that these are internal matters, but it reflects his own political affiliations,” says a former student of the arts and aesthetics school. A former member of JNUSU also claims that while the union was at odds with previous administrations, too, the dialogue never stopped. “The new vice-chancellor does not even meet the students, let alone address their concerns,” she says.
But for Sumeet Kalra, a PhD student at IIT Delhi and a student of Kumar’s, it is baffling to read about “MJK” in this light. “We often discuss among ourselves how MJK is completely different from what is being portrayed in the news. He is disciplined, dedicated and a good human being beyond being a remarkable teacher,” she says.
Kalra always wanted to work with Kumar, but the seats for a PhD under him filled up fast. When she faced some amount of friction with her chosen mentor, it was Kumar she could think of going to for a solution. “He makes your problems his own. He found a solution where I would continue working with my guide but with additional guidance from Kumar.”
Could it be that Kumar is a better teacher than administrator? Either he is grossly misunderstood or he is a master at dealing with the two roles in a compartmentalised manner. In either case, Kumar will go down in JNU’s history for his penchant for controversy.