Universities are often described as temples of learning, places where knowledge is pursued without fear, bias, or ideological coercion. They are meant to be sanctuaries for curiosity and intellectual freedom, not battlegrounds for religious indoctrination.
Yet, recent revelations surrounding Jamia Millia Islamia raise an unsettling and unavoidable question: what happens when a seat of learning begins to resemble a centre of religious conversion? This is not a casual allegation. In the last few weeks, multiple testimonies have emerged that portray a deeply disturbing environment within one of India’s premier institutions.
A fact-finding committee supported by the NGO Call for Justice has documented claims of persistent pressure on non-Muslim students and faculty to conform, submit, or convert. Several accounts describe coercive attempts to nudge or intimidate individuals into adopting Islam. One assistant professor alleged that her promotions were deliberately stalled, colleagues mocked her faith, and she was repeatedly told that converting to Islam would ensure her safety and dignity on campus.
Another non-Muslim employee reported being denied essential office facilities that were readily provided to Muslim colleagues. More troubling still was an episode in which some non-Muslim staff members were handed the Quran as a “gift” and then persistently urged to recite it, embrace it, and ultimately embrace Islam.
When they refused, they faced professional retaliation — silent but unmistakable. Equally chilling was the testimony of a differently-abled Hindu student who said she was pressured to wear a hijab and warned that refusing it could make her vulnerable to sexual assault. She was repeatedly told that wearing the hijab would bring her “Noor,” that those who do not comply are unsafe, and that embracing Islam was the only path to security and acceptance.
These are not stray murmurs but detailed accounts given to an independent committee that included a retired Delhi Police Commissioner, judges, advocates, and education experts. Their findings, however preliminary, cannot be dismissed as fantasy or exaggeration.
The Jamia administration has predictably denied every allegation, insisting that there is no institutionalised conversion agenda at play. Some within the university community, including student groups, have gone further, accusing external Hindutva organisations of fabricating the controversy in an attempt to malign a minority institution.
But such blanket denials fail to explain why so many testimonies — from faculty, staff, and students — echo the same pattern of coercion, discrimination, and ideological pressure. They fail to explain why victims, many of whom risk professional and personal blowback, would go public with such claims if they were part of a manufactured plot. Even noted business leader Mohandas Pai has weighed in, calling the alleged behaviour “outrageous and completely illegal” and demanding accountability from a taxpayer-funded institution that is constitutionally bound to uphold secular values.
This debate is not just about one university. It goes to the heart of what India expects from its academic institutions. If a central university can allegedly harbour pockets of religious pressure, then the question becomes: how widespread is this pattern and how many other campuses may be silently replicating it? Just yesterday, Al-Falah Medical College in Haryana was accused of engaging in similar religious indoctrination practices. Today, the spotlight is on Jamia Millia. Tomorrow, where will it fall? The rapid expansion of ideologically driven religious influence within educational spaces — especially Islamism, as these testimonies allege — poses a serious threat to India’s pluralistic fabric. Recognising this threat is not communal; refusing to recognise it is irresponsible.
Critics of the allegations argue that there are no written orders, no official memos, nothing that proves that forced conversions are institutional policy. But coercion rarely announces itself through paperwork. It operates through peer pressure, through faculty bias, through selective discrimination, and through unspoken but clearly understood expectations. And when the victims are students dependent on grades, faculty dependent on promotions, or employees dependent on their superiors, the power imbalance itself becomes a weapon.
India must confront this issue with clarity, courage, and honesty. We cannot allow educational institutions — especially central universities funded by the public — to become ideological echo chambers. The government and the University Grants Commission must conduct independent investigations with full transparency and protection for whistleblowers. Policies to protect religious freedom within educational spaces must be enforced rigorously. Minority-status institutions, too often treated as exempt from scrutiny, must be held to the same constitutional standards as any other public institution. Above all, victims must be heard without dismissing their pain as propaganda.
If Jamia Millia Islamia, once celebrated as a modern, progressive institution, is indeed becoming a conversion ground, then the country must wake up. A university that moulds minds is powerful. A university that tries to mould souls is dangerous. India cannot afford to let its classrooms become corridors of religious intimidation. The sanctity of education — and the pluralism that defines India — depends on resisting such ideological encroachment with absolute firmness.
