Why Gen Z’s refusal to choose a political tribe may be the most hopeful development in Indian politics
I had begun to think that nothing could surprise me politically anymore. Cynicism had become less a conclusion than a habit: the Andh Bhakts irritated me, the blanket rejection of everything the Government did seemed equally dogmatic, and I had long accepted that systems rarely change simply because the ruling party does.
And yet, I find myself unexpectedly excited by some of these Gen Z happenings.
That surprise is difficult to explain. We have watched political tribes turn every disagreement into a moral war. We have seen people defend the indefensible because it came from their side, and reject the reasonable because it came from the other. We have seen enough cycles of hope and disappointment to distrust anyone promising that one leader, one party or one movement will finally fix everything.
Then there were the conspiracy theories.
Every political tribe seemed to have its own. To some, every criticism of the Government was the work of foreign powers, George Soros, Islamists or some vast anti-India conspiracy. To others, every development was a sinister plot by the Government, the RSS, corporate interests or some other dark force.
Reality, with its complexity, incompetence and occasional banality, had become unfashionable. It was more satisfying to believe that someone was always pulling invisible strings.
Perhaps the deeper problem was our endless search for a saviour. We repeatedly pin our hopes on charismatic individuals, imagining that the right leader will sweep aside corruption, reform institutions and solve problems that have defeated generations. When that leader disappoints us, we look for the next one.
It is an emotionally comforting idea. Systems are slow and impersonal; a leader gives us someone in whom to invest our hopes—and someone to blame when things go wrong.
What has changed?
For years, political conversation seemed trapped between competing tribes, while ordinary concerns disappeared beneath the shouting: jobs, education and medical costs, inequality, corruption and the uncertainty of the future. People did not necessarily have a theory of the State or a position on every ideological controversy. They simply knew when life was becoming harder.
Now, some of them seem to be finding their voice.
What excites me about these Gen Z happenings is that they do not appear to be coming through the traditional political pipeline. They do not seem to be waiting for a party, leader or ideology to tell them what to think. They can criticise those in power without automatically embracing those who want to replace them, and distrust institutions without wanting to destroy them.
Most importantly, they seem less willing to accept that they must choose a camp before they are allowed to speak.
These young people may not have all the answers. But, as I have said in another article, a generation does not need a policy paper before it is allowed to be angry. Sometimes anger is simply the first sign that people have stopped accepting the explanations offered to them.
I am not suggesting that a revolution is around the corner. These voices can be naive, inconsistent and more comfortable with slogans than solutions.
Perhaps the difference is that my generation expected change to come from above—from a party, leader, ideology or government. They seem less inclined to wait for a messiah.
Maybe cynicism is a convenient defence against disappointment. If you believe nothing can change, you never have to risk believing in anything.
I do not know what this moment will become. It may fizzle out or be absorbed into the familiar political machinery. But for now, something feels different.
Refusing to choose a camp does not mean refusing to choose a side. It may mean choosing the side of the question itself: asking who benefits, who is excluded, what has failed and what must change, regardless of which flag is flying above it.
That is a more demanding kind of politics. It offers no permanent heroes, no guaranteed villains and no ready-made community to hide inside. It requires people to judge each decision separately, to remain capable of disappointment and to keep speaking even when neither camp applauds.
Perhaps that is what Gen Z’s refusal means: not that they are apolitical, but that they are unwilling to outsource their politics to a tribe.
