<div>We have nearly 36,000 colleges in the country. If each of them were to reach out to 200 persons in their vicinity, we could be enhancing the lives of over seven million citizens; and that, without any additional state investment. For that to happen, every institution needs to undergo a metaphoric Copernican revolution.<br /><br />The Copernican revolution was kickstarted with the enunciation of the first-ever admission policy in the history of St Stephen’s college, carving out spaces for SC/ ST/ Dalits and Christians. A silent, deep rooted prejudice – creepingly communal, but camouflaged in costumes of secularism – had set in over the years that students hailing from such categories were academic dullards and that they need to be excluded if the social sheen of the college were to be preserved. The moment space was carved out to house demographic diversity – spread on the axis of class and caste – the foundations began to shake. <br /><br />St Stephen’s College, Delhi, is the preferred higher education destination for the brightest students in the country. Over the last six years, however, it has been in the throes of one, continuous paroxysm. Want to know why? <br /><br />In 2007, when I assumed charge as the twelfth Principal, the college was in a state of drift and disarray. It took the best students nation-wide and managed to produce ‘good results,’ though the results produced were not, frankly, commensurate with the quality of the in-take. The astronomical cut-offs – that index entry-level merit-served as the proverbial fig leaf for the masked institutional drift. Arguably, if the same set of students were admitted to a lesser college in the country, the results yielded would not have been substantially poorer. <br /><br />The student body, as also the composition of the faculty, had become more or less homogenised. This was particularly worrisome; given the core commitment of the college to diversity in region and religion, class and caste. “Merit” had acquired pressing material and social overtones.<br /><br />It was clear to me in 2007 that St Stephen’s was missing the mark. It was out of alignment with the ambient world, like ‘a stone in the midst of a stream’ (Yeats’ words). The proof that it was indeed so was the illusion, tacitly propagated and eagerly embraced by Stephanians, that the college was ‘an island entire in itself’ (as John Donne would have said). The price one has to pay for such Narcissistic self-absorption is succumbing to the delusion that one is the centre of the Universe. Consequently, in 2007, the outlook of St Stephen’s College was Ptolemaic. This signalled danger; as it portended declining vitality, growing irrelevance and creeping death. This much was clear to me.<br /><br />The year 2007 was a climatic one, when the life of the college shifted from the Ptolemaic to the Copernican mode of being. This tectonic shift accounts for the tremors that have kept the physical penumbra of the college unremittingly convulsed to an extent – six long years – that has not happened to any institution in the history of higher education in this country.<br /><br />Ptolemy believed that the earth was the centre of the Universe. To him, everything, including the sun, revolved around the earth. Stephanians too believed likewise in respect of their alma mater. I remember a function organised in the India International Centre, New Delhi, in 2007 to felicitate me on my becoming the principal of the college. One of the speakers, having imbibed a bit too much of the volatile stuff, got carried away and proclaimed that the office of the Principal of St Stephen’s was higher than that of the Prime Minister of India! I was embarrassed. In a flash I caught the symptom of the Ptolemaic hangover. It knew, right away, that there was a task at hand. <br /><br />Ramachandra Guha, for instance, wrote a piece – meant to be a war-cry - pronouncing the imminent and assured death of the college. His idea of the college was at peril. This reassured me because his was a piece of fiction that individuals of a certain class and caste had invented. It had nothing to do with the vision of the Founding Fathers. No soulful institution can emerge from the sort of mindset that the likes of Ramchandra Guha entertain. <br /><br />The core of the Stephanian version of the Copernican revolution was: can commitment to social justice co-exist with the pursuit of excellence? Readers would remember that a national debate had broken out on the issue at that time. It had been assumed dogmatically – but without any empirical basis - that the two were incompatible. A virulent attack was mounted on me – stage-managed by some very powerful alumni - with the avowed purpose of ‘smoking the man out’. But by 2012 – in about five years of this revolution - St Stephen’s reached the top of the chart in the India Today-Marg National Survey both in humanities and sciences: a distinction it had never achieved before. This settled the merit versus social justice debate. The feel and flavour of the college changed. Several of the most outstanding students today hail from the poorest sections of the society.<br /><br />From being self-absorbed, the college is today responsive to its ambience. Its outlook has shifted from privilege to responsibility. A case in point is the year-long Citizenship and Cultural Richness Course now offered to the domiciles of Delhi. Over 260 citizens of all ages – from 18 to 80 years - attend this course in weekly sessions. <br /><br />It provides a platform for them to come together and discover common grounds of intellectual and cultural riches, mitigating the alienation that burdens atomised urban existence. It embodies the insight that the “merit” of an educational institution should not be measured only by the grades secured by its students but also by the life-kindling impact it has on the society that surrounds and sustains it. <br /><br /><em>(The author is the Principalof St Stephen’s College, Delhi besides being its alumnus) </em><br /></div>
<div>We have nearly 36,000 colleges in the country. If each of them were to reach out to 200 persons in their vicinity, we could be enhancing the lives of over seven million citizens; and that, without any additional state investment. For that to happen, every institution needs to undergo a metaphoric Copernican revolution.<br /><br />The Copernican revolution was kickstarted with the enunciation of the first-ever admission policy in the history of St Stephen’s college, carving out spaces for SC/ ST/ Dalits and Christians. A silent, deep rooted prejudice – creepingly communal, but camouflaged in costumes of secularism – had set in over the years that students hailing from such categories were academic dullards and that they need to be excluded if the social sheen of the college were to be preserved. The moment space was carved out to house demographic diversity – spread on the axis of class and caste – the foundations began to shake. <br /><br />St Stephen’s College, Delhi, is the preferred higher education destination for the brightest students in the country. Over the last six years, however, it has been in the throes of one, continuous paroxysm. Want to know why? <br /><br />In 2007, when I assumed charge as the twelfth Principal, the college was in a state of drift and disarray. It took the best students nation-wide and managed to produce ‘good results,’ though the results produced were not, frankly, commensurate with the quality of the in-take. The astronomical cut-offs – that index entry-level merit-served as the proverbial fig leaf for the masked institutional drift. Arguably, if the same set of students were admitted to a lesser college in the country, the results yielded would not have been substantially poorer. <br /><br />The student body, as also the composition of the faculty, had become more or less homogenised. This was particularly worrisome; given the core commitment of the college to diversity in region and religion, class and caste. “Merit” had acquired pressing material and social overtones.<br /><br />It was clear to me in 2007 that St Stephen’s was missing the mark. It was out of alignment with the ambient world, like ‘a stone in the midst of a stream’ (Yeats’ words). The proof that it was indeed so was the illusion, tacitly propagated and eagerly embraced by Stephanians, that the college was ‘an island entire in itself’ (as John Donne would have said). The price one has to pay for such Narcissistic self-absorption is succumbing to the delusion that one is the centre of the Universe. Consequently, in 2007, the outlook of St Stephen’s College was Ptolemaic. This signalled danger; as it portended declining vitality, growing irrelevance and creeping death. This much was clear to me.<br /><br />The year 2007 was a climatic one, when the life of the college shifted from the Ptolemaic to the Copernican mode of being. This tectonic shift accounts for the tremors that have kept the physical penumbra of the college unremittingly convulsed to an extent – six long years – that has not happened to any institution in the history of higher education in this country.<br /><br />Ptolemy believed that the earth was the centre of the Universe. To him, everything, including the sun, revolved around the earth. Stephanians too believed likewise in respect of their alma mater. I remember a function organised in the India International Centre, New Delhi, in 2007 to felicitate me on my becoming the principal of the college. One of the speakers, having imbibed a bit too much of the volatile stuff, got carried away and proclaimed that the office of the Principal of St Stephen’s was higher than that of the Prime Minister of India! I was embarrassed. In a flash I caught the symptom of the Ptolemaic hangover. It knew, right away, that there was a task at hand. <br /><br />Ramachandra Guha, for instance, wrote a piece – meant to be a war-cry - pronouncing the imminent and assured death of the college. His idea of the college was at peril. This reassured me because his was a piece of fiction that individuals of a certain class and caste had invented. It had nothing to do with the vision of the Founding Fathers. No soulful institution can emerge from the sort of mindset that the likes of Ramchandra Guha entertain. <br /><br />The core of the Stephanian version of the Copernican revolution was: can commitment to social justice co-exist with the pursuit of excellence? Readers would remember that a national debate had broken out on the issue at that time. It had been assumed dogmatically – but without any empirical basis - that the two were incompatible. A virulent attack was mounted on me – stage-managed by some very powerful alumni - with the avowed purpose of ‘smoking the man out’. But by 2012 – in about five years of this revolution - St Stephen’s reached the top of the chart in the India Today-Marg National Survey both in humanities and sciences: a distinction it had never achieved before. This settled the merit versus social justice debate. The feel and flavour of the college changed. Several of the most outstanding students today hail from the poorest sections of the society.<br /><br />From being self-absorbed, the college is today responsive to its ambience. Its outlook has shifted from privilege to responsibility. A case in point is the year-long Citizenship and Cultural Richness Course now offered to the domiciles of Delhi. Over 260 citizens of all ages – from 18 to 80 years - attend this course in weekly sessions. <br /><br />It provides a platform for them to come together and discover common grounds of intellectual and cultural riches, mitigating the alienation that burdens atomised urban existence. It embodies the insight that the “merit” of an educational institution should not be measured only by the grades secured by its students but also by the life-kindling impact it has on the society that surrounds and sustains it. <br /><br /><em>(The author is the Principalof St Stephen’s College, Delhi besides being its alumnus) </em><br /></div>
