As Gen Z turns a judicial slur into a national movement for clean, affordable education, the Modi government shifts from high-tech surveillance and metro shutdowns to hospital-room negotiations.

When a ruling elite loses the ability to hide its contempt for the public and turns to the autocratic and coercive exercise of power, the language of governance quickly slips into the grotesque. A look around the world shows this to be true of liberal democracies led by unpopular leaders pursuing policies that are entirely unresponsive to the needs and interests of their people—whether it is eradicating poverty, providing access to good quality and affordable education free from corruption, creating youth employment, increasing access to affordable housing, making good healthcare universally available, or responding to the climate emergency.

Today’s India, led by Prime Minister Narendra Modi and ruled by his Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), is a prime case in point. My story for this article comes from Modi’s India.

In May 2026, Chief Justice of India Surya Kant provided a masterclass in institutional disconnect. Presiding over a Supreme Court bench, he lamented the rise of digital activists, social media critics, and unemployed youth who question the establishment, notoriously branding them “cockroaches” and “parasites of society.” Though a standard bureaucratic clarification followed—claiming the ire was restricted solely to “fake degree holders”—the mask had already slipped. The apex judiciary, increasingly pulled into the gravity well of an autocratic executive, had given voice to the foundational premise of the modern neoliberal state: unemployment is not an economic failure of the government; it is a character flaw of the jobless.

But something unexpected happened on the way to the extermination. Instead of succumbing to weaponized shame, a hyper-connected, deeply frustrated generation did what Gen Z does best: they turned the slur into a badge of defiance. This could only have rattled the government. After watching recent student-led upheavals topple regimes in Bangladesh and Nepal, the Modi government is deeply nervous about a Gen Z-led protest movement at home.

When a ruling elite loses the ability to hide its contempt for the public and turns to the autocratic and coercive exercise of power, the language of governance quickly slips into the grotesque. A look around the world shows this to be true of liberal democracies led by unpopular leaders pursuing policies that are entirely unresponsive to the needs and interests of their people—whether it is eradicating poverty, providing access to good quality and affordable education free from corruption, creating youth employment, increasing access to affordable housing, making good healthcare universally available, or responding to the climate emergency.

Today’s India, led by Prime Minister Narendra Modi and ruled by his Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), is a prime case in point. My story for this article comes from Modi’s India.

In May 2026, Chief Justice of India Surya Kant provided a masterclass in institutional disconnect. Presiding over a Supreme Court bench, he lamented the rise of digital activists, social media critics, and unemployed youth who question the establishment, notoriously branding them “cockroaches” and “parasites of society.” Though a standard bureaucratic clarification followed—claiming the ire was restricted solely to “fake degree holders”—the mask had already slipped. The apex judiciary, increasingly pulled into the gravity well of an autocratic executive, had given voice to the foundational premise of the modern neoliberal state: unemployment is no longer an economic failure of the government; it is a character flaw of the jobless.

But something unexpected happened on the way to the extermination. Instead of succumbing to weaponized shame, a hyper-connected, deeply frustrated generation did what Gen Z does best: they turned the slur into a badge of defiance. This could only have rattled the government. After watching recent student-led upheavals topple regimes in Bangladesh and Nepal, the Modi government is deeply nervous about a Gen Z-led protest movement at home.

A protester wearing a cockroach mask alongside the Cockroach Janta Party emblem. Photo: Social Media / Movement Archives.

The Rise of the Satirical Front

Spearheaded by political communications strategist Abhijeet Dipke, the Cockroach Janta Party (CJP) emerged almost overnight. From distant Boston, where Dipke—a young Dalit man from Maharashtra studying public relations—read about the Chief Justice’s remark, he issued a digital call to form a party of the “cockroach people” (janta).

With its biting irony and a satirical manifesto requiring members to be “unemployed, lazy, and able to rant professionally,” the digital front exploded across social media, drawing millions of followers and rapidly eclipsing the ruling establishment’s own digital footprint.

Demonstrators gather in large numbers to protest against corrupt exam leaks and demand education reform. Photo: Press / Independent Media.

Yet, reducing the CJP to a mere internet meme misses the explosive material reality fueling it. This is not online nihilism; it is a pressure valve for a generation that has realized the traditional contract of meritocracy is completely broken.

  • The Neoliberal Trap: Decades of public policy, engineered at central and state levels, have consistently prioritized corporate capital over human-centered development. The aggressive privatization of higher education has saddled youth with astronomical debt, only to push them out into a landscape characterized by severe, structural jobless growth.
  • The Exam Crisis: When national gateways like the NEET-UG 2026 exams collapse under structural rot and paper leaks (with over 150 exam compromises documented over the past decade), the myth of “working hard to get ahead” evaporates. Even as the government promises new crackdowns, fresh leaks—such as the July 23 B.Tech exam cancellation at Uttarakhand Technical University—continue to expose a systemic collapse. Desperate and facing a bleak future, scores of young people have tragically turned to suicide.
  • The Dole vs. The Job: The executive state offers no structural solutions. Instead, it relies on ad hoc cash doles and corporate handouts—palliatives that do nothing to generate sustainable, dignified livelihoods, while the private corporate sector fails entirely to produce required employment.

The Illiberal Response: High-Tech Surveillance, Coercion, and “Divide & Conquer”

When an unresponsive, autocratic political system tied intimately to corporate interests faces a crisis of legitimacy, it replaces political negotiation with coercion.

A tiresomely familiar playbook was called up instantly. The state’s first instinct was digital enclosure, using emergency powers under Section 69A of the IT Act to suspend the CJP’s digital presence. When the movement spilled into physical spaces like Jantar Mantar, demanding the resignation of Union Education Minister Dharmendra Pradhan, the state deployed physical intimidation and logistical warfare: cutting off electricity, water, and toilet access in peak 45°C summer heat, shutting down 17 central Delhi Metro stations, and enforcing internet blackouts within a 1.5-km radius.

A very good friend of mine, who is a renowned academic fully supporting the cause of the students, tried for several days to join the protest at Jantar Mantar. After hours of effort, she just could not reach the location due to the state’s efforts to bar access to it.

As resistance spread nationally—from Delhi and Patna to Mumbai, Bangalore, Udupi, Kolkata, and the high-altitude valleys of Ladakh—police escalated from non-kinetic harassment to raw physical assault. Authorities deployed tear gas, water cannons, pellet guns, and reportedly nail-studded batons against protesting students. To track dissenters, Delhi Police deployed Mobile Command Vehicles equipped with live biometrics, facial recognition, and Ray-Ban Meta AI glasses, while threatening to invoke the National Security Act (NSA) and cancel passports.

When petitioners approached the Supreme Court seeking protection against police brutality, Chief Justice Surya Kant dismissed the pleas in open court, stating: “Don’t waste our time, and don’t waste your time.”

Concurrently, the regime deployed a classic “Divide and Conquer” strategy. When activist Sonam Wangchuk reached his 25th day of hunger strike at Medanta Hospital, Union Ministers J.P. Nadda and Jitendra Singh visited his bedside to negotiate. Wangchuk subsequently ended his fast on July 23 after receiving assurances regarding student legal immunity and compensation. Meanwhile, Prime Minister Modi broke a month of silence with a midnight, “reel-sized” video promising fast-track courts—a gesture Gen Z immediately memed and dismissed as “hot air.”

Crucially, CJP founder Abhijeet Dipke and spokesperson Saurav Das refused to walk into the “Great Man” co-optation trap. Welcoming Wangchuk’s recovery, the CJP made it clear that the movement is bigger than any single figurehead. Refusing to call off the nationwide protests, the CJP held firm to its non-negotiable demands: the immediate resignation of Education Minister Dharmendra Pradhan, full compensation for NEET suicide victims, and criminal prosecution of police officers involved in atrocities.

The number of protesters continues to surge despite police use of brutal force, refusing to budge from their core demands. Photo: Press / Independent Media.

Voices of Solidarity: The ultural Counter-Front

The brutal suppression at Jantar Mantar has ignited deep solidarity from prominent cultural figures who refuse to remain silent. Extended interviews with veteran actors Naseeruddin Shah and Prakash Raj highlight the profound emotional resonance and moral clarity this movement has stirred across generations.

Naseeruddin Shah issued a searing video message condemning the police violence, comparing the masked, baton-wielding officers to “American ICE agents”. Speaking with deep empathy for the young demonstrators, Shah remarked: “If an uneducated, ignorant person leads this country, then his heart will want the whole country to become as ignorant, incomprehensible, and merciless as he is.” Reaffirming his faith in the youth, Shah warned the establishment: “Sab yaad rakha jayega (Everything shall be remembered).”

Similarly, actor Prakash Raj spent the night sleeping on the pavement at Jantar Mantar alongside the young protesters, holding up the Indian Constitution and joining the crowd on stage. Calling out the silence of establishment elites, Raj stated bluntly: “One should be afraid of telling lies. Why should anyone be afraid of speaking the truth? I don’t want to die before I die. I want to stay alive.” Pointing to the generational courage on display, Raj emphasized that a historic movement akin to the freedom struggle is brewing again, driven by youth fighting for their collective future.

The Lessons of Popular Protest: A Global Warning

The central question hanging over Jantar Mantar is old: Can a decentralized, satirical movement of “invisible pests” actually shake a deeply entrenched corporate-state alliance? Can these resilient “cockroaches” turn their collective defiance into lasting political power?

Popular history provides a brutal, necessary cautionary tale on how modern executive states handle decentralized resistance:

1. The Trap of Corporate Co-Optation (NGO-ization)

Radical energy can be financialized. The global trajectory of Black Lives Matter (BLM) in the US and Canada revealed that an autocratic state’s best weapon is often not the cell, but a corporate buyout. BLM’s raw anger in the wake of the 2020 police killing of George Floyd in South Minneapolis drew billions in corporate contributions, philanthropic grants, and pledges to implement DEI programs in public and private organizations. Soon, the structural critique of economic exploitation was safely diluted into toothless corporate training and symbolic gestures. The establishment effectively bought out the friction.

2. The Illusion of Digital Scale vs. Institutional Density

Viral ubiquity is not durable political power. Movements like Fridays for Future generated massive global awareness but became dependent on hyper-visible international summits and charismatic icons like Greta Thunberg. When corporate and state actors responded by inviting youth to speak at panels—greenwashing their public relations—the movement struggled to convert awareness into grassroots activism to maintain sustained, localized pressure for legislation with teeth.

Contrast this with the Civil Rights Movement (CRM) under Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. The CRM succeeded because it possessed massive institutional density—it was backed by a disciplined network of Black churches, labor unions, and established legal bodies that could physically sustain activists when the state met them with fire hoses and arrests.

3. The Attrition of Silence and Individual Management

By completely refusing to negotiate and simply waiting out protests, an autocratic state imposes an unsustainable psychological tax on youth. The UK’s Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament (CND) in the mid-20th century mobilized hundreds of thousands, but its demand—the absolute, unilateral abandonment of Britain’s nuclear deterrent—collided with deep-state security architecture. The state simply outlasted it.

Conversely, King’s CRM and modern Indigenous Land Rights movements succeed because they target highly specific, legally actionable, and economically painful nodes (like a transit system boycott or physical resource blockades) using the state’s own treaties and courts over decades of endurance.

Turning Defiance into Endurance

After the historic Farmers’ Strike of 2020–2021 that immobilized Delhi for sixteen months and forced the Narendra Modi government to its legislative knees, the Cockroach Janta Party (CJP) phenomenon offers a second powerful example of popular dissent from India. The CJP combines the organizing genius of the Farmers’ Strike with creative energy, satire, and irony.

By refusing to let the state manage the movement through individual backroom negotiations, the CJP has demonstrated remarkable organizational maturity. However, to turn its digital defiance into a permanent victory, the CJP must continue transitioning from internet subversion to a disciplined, un-co-optable policy framework, mirroring the institutional endurance seen in the historic Farmers’ Strike. The executive state is entirely prepared for batons and digital bans; what it deeply fears is an alienated, hyper-connected generation building a durable organizational infrastructure that can neither be bought out, slowed down, nor ignored.

Movement Multimedia & Key Resources

Alok Mukherjee is a Senior Fellow of Massey College, University of Toronto. He was chair of the Toronto Police Services Board from 2004 to 2015. He is the author, with Tim Harper, of Excessive Force: Toronto’s Fight to Reform City Policing (2018). Alok can be followed on Substack, LinkedIn, X, Facebook, and Reddit.

One response

  1. Arun Mukherjee Avatar
    Arun Mukherjee

    A beautifully written piece, Alok. I can see all the hard work you put into researching and providing us with a comprehensive picture. And, you do a brilliant job of connecting the Indian turmoil to a global one, under corrupt, callous and incompetent leaders like Trump.

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