“Sampoorna Kranti is not just a change of government; it is a change of society.” — Jayaprakash Narayan, Bharat Ratna
H. N. Sharma
The UN designated World Social Justice Day to be observed every year on 20th February since 2009. However, in 1974, in India, her leaders were way ahead in trying to achieve social justice with Jayaprakash Narayan’s call for Sampoorna Kranti (Total Revolution). Unlike the world, the call for social justice in India was never born in seminar rooms or government files, it rose from hunger marches, prison cells, student barricades, and the unified moral thunder of people who believed that democracy meant dignity, a voice, and bread for every citizen. From JP’s ‘Lokneeti’ to the restless socialist politics of Chandra Shekhar, the revolution was about dislodging the system of inequality that crept into the babus and the powerful elite after independence from the British Raj.
With the recent conclusion of the World Social Justice Day 2026, an unresolved question comes to mind: Did social justice envisioned by the revolution reach the villages, the workers, the landless, the unemployed youth, or has it stopped at the gates of power change?”
The Social Roar
There are rare moments when politics rises above election-winning and becomes a moral uprising. Fortunately, India witnessed such a moment when the students’ protest in Bihar gained momentum, with JP’s call of Sampoorna Kranti against authoritarianism, corruption and unemployment. The movement aimed at transforming the relationship between those in power and ordinary citizens, with a stern warning that political independence without social and economic justice leaves democracy hollow and soulless. The movement demanded cleaner governance, decentralisation, public accountability, and dignity for citizens, irrespective of their political, economic, social, and religious identity. This was not socialism imported from theory but rooted in Indian social realities of years of inequality of caste, creed, education, health, land, and access to state power, even after independence.
The leaders of the movement carried this conviction into public life as they did not treat poverty as a societal but as a constitutional failure. One such strong-willed and principled leader was Chandrashekhar, known for his rebellious and outspoken politics that earned him the title of Young Turk as well as imprisonment during the Emergency. His own upbringing in poverty and his in-depth knowledge of the grassroots level ensured that he consistently emphasised to those in power that governance must remain connected to rural India and economic policy should serve the marginalised rather than a narrow elite, while issuing a grim warning that political bosses lose legitimacy if they fail to do so.
His statements were mirrored in his Bharat Yatra padyatras, public meetings, and village dialogues as engagement tools to understand the survival and distress of the voiceless, thereby showcasing that social justice requires proximity to lived realities rather than remote administration. He believed that Delhi must let its hands gather the dust of the village before it writes the laws of the nation.
‘Sampoorna’ change
The movement permanently altered India’s political culture and how citizens viewed political freedom by shattering the assumption that authority was beyond public challenge. Citizens rediscovered that democratic participation should not end with elections, and public scrutiny and mobilisation are democratic exercisable instruments in their own hands. The movement reaffirmed corruption as a social injustice because when resources are diverted in an irrational manner, the poor lose schools, roads, irrigation, and healthcare. Additionally, it cemented the idea that those in authority must come down from their high chairs and move closer to the people.
The Movement’s reflection
JP repeatedly cautioned that democracy’s greatest danger is not always authoritarian takeover but institutional distance. When governments become insulated, parties become electoral machines, and citizens feel detached from decision-making, the national trust erodes. Institutions appear inaccessible, unjust or uneven, constitutional guarantees feel abstract rather than lived, and opportunity begins to depend more on jugaad than on ability. In such an environment, democracy risks becoming procedural rather than a socially substantive process, as meritocracy steadily declines, yielding to the influence of power.
Over the years, social justice has gradually narrowed from a transformative political mission into an administrative framework. Structural redistribution debates weakened while welfare programme delivery mechanisms have expanded and strengthened, thanks to the digital revolution. However, social justice is not measured by how quickly benefits arrive, but by whether citizens ultimately gain independence from those benefits. The latter objective remains unanimously elusive across different ruling parties keeping the long-term equalisation of opportunity uneven.
The current institutional reforms and rural welfare development programmes reflect this broader shift but what the movement envisioned remains unfinished. While politicians successfully institutionalised electoral democracy, economic opportunity remains a far-fetched goal as migration from villages continues to be driven by distress and aspiration. Education might have expanded in enrollment, but it continues to lack quality. And with the absence of adequate security, agricultural incomes remain vulnerable and informal labour still forms the backbone of the economy even after almost eight decades of independence, all of which adds to the existing uneven structural mobility. As Chandrashekhar rightly observed, India’s strength lies in its villages and the dignity of its ordinary people. Therefore, the measure of true social justice should not be in statistics, but in how deeply the welfare programmes have uplifted the people.
The future ‘kranti’
The lesson of the movement is not nostalgia but rather firm instruction. Social justice cannot function as a single ministry or welfare category. It must be recognised, respected and remain a governing principle. It requires equal educational quality across both public and private institutions, not expanding enrolment. It demands dignified employment growth, not electoral income transfers. It requires that the weakest citizen can approach democratic institutions with confidence and trust, and above all, it calls for political leadership to measure national success not only through growth indicators but also through reductions in structural inequality. The revolution was never meant to conclude within one political cycle, it was intended to remain India’s permanent democratic conscience. Whether India remembers that call and has the political will to carry it out is for present and future generations to foresee.
