By T N Ashok
There is something almost cinematic about the Bharatiya Janata Party’s sudden discovery of India’s youth. Prime Minister Narendra Modi, who has spent years addressing young Indians as the engines of Viksit Bharat, has now begun speaking to them in the language of Instagram reels, selfies, jokes and pop culture.
His ministers have been told to become active on Instagram. The Prime Minister himself has appeared in a series of unusually informal videos directed at young Indians. And then came the extraordinary political volte-face.
The Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh, traditionally far more comfortable with discipline than dissent, has begun saying that the grievances of Gen Z are genuine. RSS chief Mohan Bhagwat has said young people need conversation rather than dictation and that protests can be part of democratic consensus-building.
The BJP’s Delhi unit has gone further, planning intensified outreach through its leaders, ministers, MLAs, BJYM and ABVP in colleges and universities. One party functionary admitted that the Gen Z protest had taken the BJP “somewhat by surprise”.
Surprise? That may be the most revealing word in the entire story. Because the youth did not suddenly become important. Their anger did.
The trigger was the NEET examination crisis, but the explosion was much larger than a paper leak. Months of frustration over examination irregularities, uncertain careers, expensive education, unemployment and the increasingly desperate competition for a shrinking pool of secure jobs converged in the streets.
The unlikely symbol of this revolt was the Cockroach Janta Party — a satirical, meme-born movement that nobody in the political establishment took seriously until it became impossible to ignore. Its most consequential demand was the resignation of Education Minister Dharmendra Pradhan.
Pradhan resisted. Then he resigned. On July 25, after weeks of protests, Pradhan stepped down as education minister amid the storm over NEET and other examination irregularities. His resignation was one of the principal demands of the student protesters.
The irony was almost unbearable. Pradhan had himself been a student activist decades ago. Now a generation of students had forced a minister out of office over the very system that was supposed to safeguard their future. And suddenly the political vocabulary changed.
The youth were no longer “misguided”. They were no longer merely victims of political manipulation. They were now the “power” of India. The Prime Minister’s message was that young Indians were the future of the country and the principal force behind Viksit Bharat. But young Indians may reasonably ask a rather uncomfortable question:
If we are the future, why did you start listening only after we started protesting? That is the political dilemma confronting Modi. The BJP’s problem with Gen Z is not principally one of communication. It is one of credibility. A reel can create millions of views. It cannot create millions of jobs.
Indeed, Modi’s Instagram intervention has been spectacular. After his first video addressing the paper-leak controversy, his follow-up reel thanking young viewers reportedly crossed 300 million views in 24 hours.
But views are not votes. And certainly not jobs. India’s official labour data provides a more complicated picture than the opposition’s description of a nationwide employment disaster. The government’s own Economic Survey points to improvements in labour-market indicators and formalisation. Yet the same survey acknowledges that India must create large numbers of quality jobs to exploit its demographic dividend.
That distinction matters. For a young graduate, the question is not whether unemployment has fallen statistically. It is whether there is a job appropriate to his or her education, skills and aspirations. The 2025 PLFS puts unemployment among 15-29-year-olds at 9.9 percent nationally, with much higher rates in several states and among educated youth.
That is where the political problem begins. A young person in Delhi, Mumbai, Bengaluru, Hyderabad or Pune sees an India of artificial intelligence, start-ups, semiconductor dreams, global capability centres and billion-dollar infrastructure projects.
But the same young person may spend years preparing for government examinations. One vacancy can attract thousands of applicants. A cancelled examination can destroy a year. A leaked paper can destroy a career plan. A delayed recruitment process can push an entire generation backwards.
The contradiction between India the economic superpower and India the examination queue is becoming politically significant. This is why the BJP’s new youth strategy cannot be dismissed merely as public relations. It is also an admission that something has changed.
The young Indian voter is less deferential. He or she does not automatically inherit the political loyalties of parents. The phone is the political classroom. A meme can travel faster than a speech. A paper-leak story can become a national movement before a party headquarters has drafted its response.
That is precisely what happened. And it explains why the opposition suddenly has an opportunity. Rahul Gandhi has been trying to occupy the language of students and unemployment, most recently through his “Chhatron Ki Goonj” outreach, attacking the government over unemployment, expensive education, examination failures and the impact of AI on jobs.
Akhilesh Yadav has an obvious advantage in Uttar Pradesh: he can speak to a generation that has grown up amid competitive examinations, coaching centres and the obsession with government employment.
And in Tamil Nadu, actor-turned-politician Vijay — C. Joseph Vijay — brings something radically different: celebrity, youth culture and a direct communication style that does not require the conventional political middleman.
That is the real challenge for the BJP. It is not merely Rahul Gandhi. It is not merely Akhilesh. It is not merely Vijay. It is the possibility that youth politics is becoming detached from traditional party politics altogether.
Look at the cities. Delhi has already demonstrated how quickly student anger can become political theatre. Mumbai is a city of young aspirants navigating high rents, precarious employment and a brutally competitive private sector. Bengaluru has India’s technology dream — but also the anxiety that AI may make the next generation of white-collar jobs less secure. Hyderabad combines a booming technology economy with intense educational competition. Pune is packed with students and young professionals who increasingly measure politics against employability. Chennai has its own powerful ecosystem of student politics, cinema and social-justice discourse.
Kolkata remains politically distinctive, while Indore and India’s tier-two and tier-three cities represent perhaps the most important battleground of all: young Indians who have acquired degrees, smartphones and aspirations but do not necessarily see a corresponding transformation in their economic lives.
These young voters are not necessarily anti-BJP. That is the mistake the Opposition could make. They are anti-disappointment. They will support whoever convinces them that their future will be better. The BJP therefore still has time.
But the question is whether Instagram can substitute for policy. If the new youth outreach produces recruitment calendars, examination reform, transparent testing, apprenticeships, manufacturing employment and faster filling of government vacancies, it could become a genuine political reset.
If it produces only reels, influencers and hashtags, it could backfire spectacularly. The danger is that the youth may begin laughing at the campaign rather than with it. The same social-media generation that can make Modi’s reel viral can turn it into a meme within minutes.
Punjab illustrates another problem. The BJP is reportedly exploring a renewed relationship with the Shiromani Akali Dal ahead of the 2027 Assembly election, while internal dissent remains a problem. Modi’s meeting with SAD president Sukhbir Singh Badal has already revived speculation about a possible alliance.
But reviving an old alliance is not the same as winning a new generation. The BJP cannot enter 2027 Punjab carrying yesterday’s political baggage and expect today’s youth to be impressed by tomorrow’s Instagram strategy.
Uttar Pradesh presents an even bigger challenge. The BJP remains organisationally formidable, but internal tensions, leadership calculations and the continuing political shadow of the Yogi Adityanath–Amit Shah equation could distract from the central question: what does the young Uttar Pradesh voter actually want?
Jobs. air examinations. Affordable education. A functioning recruitment system. And a government that listens before the streets become angry. That is the emerging youth agenda. It is not ideological. It is intensely practical. And that is why the political establishment should be careful about reading too much into the sudden warmth.
The youth movement has already demonstrated something important: it can force the political system to respond. The resignation of Pradhan proved that. The RSS’s changed vocabulary proves that. Modi’s Instagram revolution proves that. The BJP’s accelerated college outreach proves that. The question now is whether the government has understood the message or merely the medium..
There is a much more important lesson. The 2029 election may not be decided by the old BJP versus Congress argument. It may be decided by a generation asking a simpler question: What did you do for my future?
For twelve years, Narendra Modi has asked India’s youth to dream of a developed India. The youth are now asking him to show them the road to get there. That is a very different conversation. And this time, the young are not merely listening. They are answering back. (IPA Service)
