Ideas on trial, critical thinking in retreat

The Hindu

21-07-2025

'Freedom only for the supporters of the government, only for the supporters of one party — however numerous they may be — is no freedom at all. Freedom is always and exclusively the freedom of the one who thinks differently.' — Rosa Luxemburg
In an era marked by heightened geopolitical tensions and global scrutiny, nations are compelled to not only safeguard their territorial integrity but also uphold their moral foundations. For countries, characterised by their profound diversity of languages, cultures, and faiths, such moments present an opportunity to reaffirm their commitment to democratic principles and pluralistic values. The projection of national strength tempered by restraint and public reassurances, stands out as indispensable components of this endeavour. However, the alignment of democratic values at home with the image projected abroad is equally crucial, necessitating the nurturing of freedom and open discourse domestically.
An erosion of intellectual freedom
Regrettably, a growing chasm exists between this ideal and the prevailing realities on the ground across the world. The sanctity of intellectual freedom is being steadily eroded across institutions, particularly universities and academic spaces, due to pressures of conformity and control.
The consequences of this trend are far-reaching, with professors facing reprimand or dismissal over minor comments, and students being subjected to punitive action for raising critical questions. This phenomenon constitutes a pressing global concern, albeit one whose repercussions are particularly pronounced in nations that have historically valorised open discourse and intellectual freedom. The United States, during Donald Trump's presidency, exemplifies this trend.
Philosophers such as Hannah Arendt have warned against these dangers of banality in oppressive regimes and the slow numbing of thought, where citizens retreat into private lives and abandon the public realm. Understandably, the assault on freedom is not only about censorship but also about inducing this kind of silence, where fear replaces inquiry, and conformity takes the place of imagination.
In such a climate, society's capacity for critical self-reflection and growth is severely impaired, leading to stagnation and intellectual rigidity. For instance, when curricula are rewritten to reflect ideological imperatives rather than pedagogical or historical rigour, when scholarly work is attacked for political reasons, and when free speech on campus is framed as sedition, we are witnessing the slow erosion of academic advancement. We have witnessed this phenomenon on campuses across the U.S., particularly in the context of pro-Palestinian demonstrations. Democratic backsliding is visibly accompanied here by an assault on intellectuals and independent media. In such times, it becomes easy to imagine that freedom of speech is a luxury or a liability, something to be curtailed for the sake of national unity or cultural pride. But, this is a false choice.
An intolerance of voices that question
At the heart of this crisis lies a growing intolerance with voices that challenge prevailing narratives, offer nuanced historical perspective, or simply ask inconvenient questions often painted as suspect. It must be taken for granted that democracy, by definition, demands disagreement and requires the ability to listen to those who think differently, to be challenged, and to evolve. The silencing of scholars, intimidation of writers, and discouragement of free inquiry do not merely target individuals; they diminish the society as a whole.
Noam Chomsky, whose work on propaganda and power remains seminal, noted that the destruction of independent culture is among the gravest abuses of authority. When knowledge itself is politicised, when truth is decided by decree, and when the university becomes a site of ideological performance rather than learning, we find ourselves perilously close to what he called 'manufactured consent', or in other words, a democracy in appearance but not in substance.
Historically, universities have served as spaces where civilisational questions are posed, where the past is interrogated, and where future possibilities are imagined. To reduce these institutions to sites of ideological policing is to betray their very essence. The danger today lies not only in the curbing of dissent but also in its systematic delegitimisation. When critical voices are branded as 'anti-national', when scholars are seen as threats instead of resources, and when academic inquiry is stifled by fear, society drifts toward intellectual repression. The result is a thinning of public discourse, a narrowing of thought, and a culture of self-censorship.
The geopolitical irony of this situation cannot be overstated. At a time when nations face real external threats, internal cohesion is undeniably vital. However, cohesion cannot be achieved through the suppression of thought. Unity born of fear is not unity; it is coercion. What the world respects is not only a nation's economic or strategic clout but also its ability to be a vast, diverse, and argumentative civil society. This vitality, rooted in disagreement, debate and intellectual freedom is what defines a truly robust democracy.
The erosion of this vitality has long-term consequences, including the alienation of a generation of students who once believed in the university as a space of exploration and growth, but now the evident discouragement of public intellectuals from speaking their conscience, and the undermining of the moral seriousness with which a nation historically addresses its internal complexities, has set in the steady decline of the very idea of democracy. Moreover, it sends a chilling message that intelligence must be policed, that critical thinking is unwelcome, and that freedom is conditional on obedience.
But there is hope
And yet, there is hope. History reminds us that the tide of suppression, however forceful, is always contested. Whether through protest movements, or the courage of individuals who refuse to be silenced, the spirit of free inquiry has always found ways to endure. Václav Havel, writing under the shadow of Soviet repression, reminded us that 'living in truth' was itself a political act and a refusal to join in the collective lie.
In societies that valorise critical inquiry and unfettered debate, the capacity to confront and resolve complex challenges is significantly enhanced. A nuanced understanding of patriotism recognises the intrinsic value of constructive critique, acknowledging that loyalty to one's nation or institution is not predicated on unyielding conformity, but rather on a commitment to its betterment. The democratic ideals of freedom, justice, and equality are not merely aspirational, but are instead contingent upon the ability to challenge entrenched injustices and interrogate authority. When societies compromise academic freedom, they not only erode their moral authority, but also imperil their capacity for envisioning and implementing transformative change.
Rosa Luxemburg's words serve as a poignant reminder that freedom means little if it is reserved only for the majority or the loyalist. Real freedom, the kind that nurtures innovation, empathy and justice, begins with the courage to listen to those who speak differently. This capacity for receptivity to dissenting voices constitutes a litmus test of democracy's vitality, and its failure to meet this test has far-reaching and deleterious consequences for the polity.
Shelley Walia has taught Cultural Theory at Panjab University, Chandigarh