The Modi government has executed only a handful of major political retreats under sustained public pressure. The first was the effective freezing of the nationwide National Register of Citizens (NRC) project following the anti-CAA protests. The second was the formal repeal of the three farm laws after a year-long farmers’ agitation at Delhi’s borders. And if we exclude M.J. Akbar’s resignation during the #MeToo movement, Dharmendra Pradhan is the first Union Cabinet minister in the Modi era to be forced out by a street-led agitation.



Why does this episode unsettle the BJP so deeply?

Unlike the anti-CAA protests or the farmers’ movement, which the ruling party could portray as geographically limited or ideologically motivated, the NEET movement drew support directly from the BJP’s own core social base—educated middle-class families whose children depend on competitive examinations for social mobility. It cut across caste and class.

The movement also emerged at a time when many traditional BJP supporters had already begun questioning the government over issues such as ethanol blending in petrol and the Ayodhya Ram Mandir donation controversy. When dissent comes from within your own support base, it becomes much harder to dismiss it as partisan sabotage.

The government’s immediate response was to approve a draft bill proposing up to 10 years of imprisonment and fines of up to ₹10 crore for those involved in paper leaks. That reflects an attempt to contain the crisis through tougher law enforcement. However, replacing a minister is a political circuit breaker—it is not a systemic reset.

This brings us to the fundamental question: Will the resignation of a high-profile minister fix a structurally broken examination system? Or will it merely prove to be a temporary political sacrifice designed to cool public anger once the movement became too large to ignore?

Removing Dharmendra Pradhan may be a victory for the students who took to the streets. It gives the government an opportunity to reset politically. But the real test still lies ahead. Can the government reform the National Testing Agency? Can it deliver justice to the affected students and their families? And can it build an examination system that more than 20 lakh aspirants can genuinely trust?