WRITER- Vrinda Khanna
Policy Advisor, Lawyer & Social Worker
National Secretary- Sant Eshwer Foundation
A young man once asked Swami Vivekananda, “Maharaj, what should the youth of this country do to change the world?”
Vivekananda looked at him calmly and replied, “First, build yourself. A weak character cannot build a strong nation.” More than a century later, that question echoes louder than ever.
Across the world today, youth are restless, vocal, and impatient—and not without reason. From South Asia to the Middle East, young people are questioning authority, challenging systems, and demanding change. In recent months, youth-led protests in Nepal and Bangladesh have drawn global attention. These movements arose from genuine frustrations—economic stagnation, political fatigue, and a sense of exclusion from decisionmaking. Yet the trajectory they took is instructive. Institutions were weakened faster than alternatives were imagined. Energy was released, but direction was missing. The result was instability without resolution.
Contrast this with Iran, where youth protests are rooted in a clear moral conflict—basic human dignity versus rigid theocratic control. There, resistance carries ethical clarity. The difference between these movements is not courage, but purpose. History repeatedly shows that when youthful anger is not anchored in long-term thinking, it often replaces one disorder with another.
Vivekananda understood this danger intuitively. During his travels across colonial India, he encountered young men who were angry, humiliated, and desperate for change. He never mocked their anger—but he refused to glorify it. “It is better to be active and wrong than inactive and right,” he once remarked, but he immediately added that energy must be trained, not merely expressed. For him, reform without inner discipline was a shortcut to chaos.
His own life offers a compelling lesson for today’s youth. Vivekananda began as a restless seeker, full of questions and dissatisfaction. Yet his rebellion was inward before it was outward. He sharpened his intellect, immersed himself in India’s spiritual and philosophical traditions, and engaged deeply with the world around him. When he finally spoke on the global stage in Chicago, he did not shout slogans or mimic Western idioms. He spoke as a rooted Indian, confident in his civilisation—and the world listened.
That confidence is becoming visible once again among India’s youth, particularly in their renewed connection with Sanātana Dharma. In recent years, one can observe a quiet but unmistakable shift: young Indians visiting temples not out of compulsion but curiosity, celebrating festivals with understanding rather than habit, and embracing practices once dismissed as outdated. The thousand-year resilience of Somnath Temple, repeatedly destroyed and rebuilt, and the completion of the Ram Mandir are not merely religious milestones; they have become civilisational reference points for a generation seeking continuity. From bhajan gatherings that now attract urban youth to spiritual conversations in college hostels, faith is no longer seen as an embarrassment but as inheritance. This is not revivalism driven by fear—it is confidence born of rediscovery. Vivekananda would have recognised this instinct immediately. He believed that a nation ashamed of its spiritual roots could never stand tall in the world.
India today stands in a similarly complex moment. The global geopolitical order is unstable. Old alliances are weakening, new fault lines are emerging, and ideological extremes are hardening. In this environment, Bharat has consciously chosen balance over brinkmanship— dialogue over dogma, engagement over escalation. This approach may not produce dramatic headlines, but it reflects civilisational maturity.
That maturity cannot be sustained by diplomacy alone. It must be mirrored in the mindset of India’s youth. Within the country, this challenge is visible on campuses as well. In institutions like Jawaharlal Nehru University, protest culture often prioritises slogans over substance. This is not an argument against dissent. India’s intellectual tradition is built on debate— shastrarth, not obedience. It is an argument against outsourcing one’s thinking. Vivekananda repeatedly warned Indian youth against becoming echo chambers for ideas that do not arise from their own society’s needs.
Borrowed outrage may feel empowering, but it rarely produces solutions. When protest becomes performative, it loses its transformative edge. Bharatiya civilisation has always insisted that dissent be accompanied by responsibility. The Bhagavad Gita does not reject action; it demands clarity in action—“योगः कम'सु कौशलम्”. Act, but with skill. Question, but with understanding.
A right-of-centre, Bharatiya perspective does not seek to silence youthful voices. It asks a harder question: What happens the day after the protest ends? Societies progress not when youth merely challenges power, but when it also learns to carry responsibility. Bharat’s challenge today is not to dampen youthful energy, but to refine it—so that it produces leaders who can question without cynicism, act without chaos, and engage the world without losing their roots.
This refinement is already visible, though it rarely makes headlines. Millions of young Indians are building startups, volunteering in disaster relief, teaching in underserved communities, restoring ecosystems, and strengthening local institutions. They are not driven by slogans, but by commitment. Vivekananda’s famous assertion—“Service to man is service to God”—was not a sermon; it was a framework for nation-building.
National Youth Day, therefore, should not romanticise rebellion, nor should it demand conformity. It should invite reflection. What distinguishes righteous resistance from reckless disruption? How does one challenge authority without weakening the nation itself? How does global awareness coexist with civilisational confidence?
That balance—between action and restraint, dissent and duty—is what Swami Vivekananda hoped Indian youth would master. Not as a sermon, but as a skill. And in a restless world searching for direction, that skill may turn out to be Bharat’s most valuable contribution.
If the youth of Bharat can internalise this lesson—not merely quote Vivekananda, but live his discipline—they will not only shape India’s future. They may well help steady a world that has forgotten the difference between noise and strength.
Comments (1)
N
Excellent views on swamiji