What purpose does a protest serve?
Is it to speak out against injustice, draw attention to a cause, or pressure those in power to listen?
For over thirty years, Indians have pursued all three aims along a narrow, tree‑lined stretch beside Jantar Mantar, the 18th‑century astronomical observatory in Delhi.
However, that era may now be drawing to a close.
This week, Delhi Police announced that Jantar Mantar, situated near Parliament, will cease to be an authorized protest venue.
The decision follows months after the Gen Z‑led Cockroach Janta Party (CJP)—a loose collective that started as a joke rather than a formal party—organized a large demonstration at the site calling for the resignation of federal Education Minister Dharmendra Pradhan. Tens of thousands participated, and Pradhan later stepped down.
Police soon erected barricades around Jantar Mantar, blocking any further protests. Last week, when CJP supporters tried to march there again—this time demanding the resignation of India’s election chief—the effort was met with a police crackdown.
Authorities have redirected protesters to three alternative locations. Two lie far from Parliament, and the third—the expansive Ramlila Ground—is frequently reserved months ahead. Unlike Jantar Mantar, which is free to use, each of these venues charges tens of thousands of rupees per day.
Delhi Police, citing an external reference, said it acted after the Supreme Court recommended finding alternative sites with proper infrastructure. Critics, however, warn that the shift could push protests out of reach for ordinary citizens, moving them farther from the seat of power and into costly venues many cannot afford.
Over the years, Jantar Mantar has hosted everything from large movements that toppled governments to solitary vigils by individuals desperate to be heard. Farmers, students, grieving parents, and former soldiers have assembled beneath its trees, brandishing placards and chanting slogans. While not every demonstration made the news, for many the site served as a refuge when other avenues had closed.
This week, when the BBC visited, those scenes appeared to be a distant memory.
