A Crisis Brewing in Rural Education
On July 1, 2025, Swami Prasad Maurya, former minister and current chief of the Apni Janata Party (AJP), raised serious concerns about the future of public education in rural India. Addressing a press conference in Lucknow, he denounced the recent decision of the Uttar Pradesh government to merge primary and upper primary schools with fewer than 50 students. Far from being a mere administrative step, Maurya warned, this decision is a calculated move that may accelerate the erosion of educational access for Dalits, tribals, minorities, and economically poor children.

The policy of merging low-enrollment schools is one of the many initiatives under the broader National Education Policy (NEP) 2020, which is being actively implemented in BJP-ruled states. While the NEP claims to reform and modernise Indian education, its on-ground application reveals deeply troubling implications. When viewed from the margins—through the eyes of poor children, Dalits, Adivasis, and religious minorities—the NEP's promises of flexibility and equity seem hollow.

Court Approved School Merger, Children Denied Right to Education 
The recent Allahabad High Court ruling in favour of the Uttar Pradesh government's school merger policy marks a critical turning point in the ongoing debate over education reform in the state. While the court dismissed petitions arguing that the merger violated the Right to Education Act and Article 21A of the Constitution, it endorsed the government's rationale rooted in the National Education Policy (NEP) 2020.

Citing logistical and economic constraints, the court deemed the merger (framed as "pairing" low-enrollment schools with larger institutions) a practical solution. However, this judgment has raised serious concerns about its impact on marginalised groups. The court's acceptance of state arguments that larger schools will offer better infrastructure and holistic development fails to acknowledge the lived reality of poor, Dalit, tribal, and minority children.

Although the NEP advocates for school complexes to optimise resources, critics argue that the government is selectively invoking these provisions without implementing complementary reforms, such as improving curriculum quality or ensuring safe transportation. Teachers, civil society members, and local communities have expressed concerns that the closures will result in de facto school shutdowns for the poor, undoing years of progress in reducing dropout rates. In many cases, the so-called "merger" only shifts the burden to children and their families, who lack the means to access distant schools.

With the state allocating only 13.8% of its 2025–26 budget to education, which is below the national average, many view the merger as not an educational reform but a cost-saving exercise.

UP's School Merger Policy Betrays India's Marginalised
The Uttar Pradesh government's decision to merge over 27,000 government schools with low student enrollment has provoked widespread outrage, with opposition leaders, teachers' associations, village heads, and civil society activists calling for its immediate withdrawal. Critics have called the move "anti-education," warning that it will severely undermine access to schooling for the most vulnerable, particularly children from Dalit, tribal, backwards, and economically poor communities.

Opposition leaders, such as Chandra Shekhar Azad and Akhilesh Yadav, argue that the school merger violates Article 21A of the Constitution and the Right to Education Act (2009), which mandates free and accessible education for all children aged 6–14. They also point to the likelihood of increased dropout rates, especially among girls, who will find it unsafe or impractical to travel 3 to 5 kilometres to newly merged schools. This, they warn, could lead to a resurgence of child labour and child marriage in rural areas. Local resistance has been vocal, with gram pradhans (village heads) from districts like Raebareli writing to the Chief Minister, pleading against the closure of functioning schools that currently serve as essential lifelines for rural children.

Teachers' unions and education activists also fear that the move will not only erode the public education infrastructure but also jeopardise the livelihoods of lakhs of educators and support staff, including 1.4 lakh teachers and 56,000 Shiksha Mitras and mid-day meal cooks. The closure of small village schools is seen not merely as administrative restructuring but as a symbolic dismantling of public responsibility for inclusive education.

The NEP's Double Speak on Equity
The National Education Policy 2020, officially launched with grand declarations of inclusivity, digitisation, and de-bureaucratisation, actually paves the way for systemic exclusion. While the policy includes progressive phrases like "equitable and inclusive education" and "education for all," its operational direction reveals a different agenda—one that relies increasingly on centralisation, privatisation, and digitalisation.

In rural India, where electricity is erratic, internet connectivity is sparse, and digital literacy is negligible, the push toward "smart schools" and online learning is exclusionary. The NEP assumes a level playing field, ignoring ground realities where millions of children have no access to smartphones, let alone stable Wi-Fi.

Moreover, by encouraging privatisation and public-private partnerships, the NEP subtly repositions education as a commodity rather than a public good. The merger of government schools is not just a logistical move—it is a precursor to the state's withdrawal from its constitutional obligation to ensure free and compulsory education for children aged 6 to 14, as mandated under Article 21A and the Right to Education Act (2009).

Constitutional Betrayal: Violating Articles 21A and 46
In Andhra Pradesh, resistance to school mergers and the broader implementation of the National Education Policy (NEP) has gained momentum. The Communist Party of India (Marxist) has strongly opposed the state government's move to close primary schools in districts like Visakhapatnam and Anakapalli, accusing it of depriving poor students of their right to education under the guise of NEP-driven reforms. It has criticised the premature closure of schools even before the High Court delivered its verdict on key government orders concerning school rationalisation.

Simultaneously, teachers' organisations such as the Pathasala Parirakshana Vedika have also condemned the undemocratic rollout of the NEP in the state, asserting that the reforms are being introduced without stakeholder consultation. They have called for a state-level education conference to mobilise public opinion against these changes, which they fear will further marginalise underprivileged children and undermine public education infrastructure.

The NEP's merger policy, therefore, taps into a deeper constitutional question. Article 21A guarantees free and compulsory education to all children aged 6 to 14. Article 46 further instructs the state to promote the educational and economic interests of Scheduled Castes, Scheduled Tribes, and other weaker sections. Closing down functional schools and pushing children to distant locations is a direct violation of these articles.

Ironically, many of these rural schools were established as part of earlier government schemes designed precisely to ensure access to education for marginalised communities. The Sarva Shiksha Abhiyan (SSA) and Mid-Day Meal Scheme were landmark programs that recognised the link between education, nutrition, and equity. The current merger plan undoes that legacy. In essence, the merger policy reverses decades of hard-won progress by Dalit, tribal, and minority communities who fought for schools in their villages. It sends a chilling message: their children's education is not a state priority.

Gendered Impacts: Disproportionate Burden on Girls
While the policy will hurt all poor children, its impact on girls will be catastrophic. Rural girls already face enormous obstacles—early marriage, domestic labour, safety concerns, and cultural bias. Now, the additional burden of long commutes and inaccessible schools will make education almost impossible for many.

According to the Annual Status of Education Report (ASER 2023), dropout rates among rural adolescent girls rose significantly during the COVID-19 pandemic. The school merger plan threatens to institutionalise this dropout trend. When local schools close, girls are often the first to be affected. This not only robs them of educational opportunity but also reinforces a cycle of poverty, patriarchy, and exclusion. A nation that aspires to become a global hub cannot achieve this by sacrificing the education of its most vulnerable daughters.

Who Gains? Privatisation and the Shrinking Public Sphere
Behind the smokescreen of reform lies a more sinister agenda: the privatisation of education. As government schools are closed, private players are waiting to fill the vacuum. Whether through low-cost private schools, religiously run institutions aligned with majoritarian ideologies, or corporate-funded ed-tech platforms, the shift is clear: education is being outsourced to the market.

This is not accidental. The BJP's ideological commitment to minimising the role of the state aligns perfectly with this educational restructuring. Instead of empowering public schools, training teachers, and improving infrastructure, the state is choosing to declare public institutions "inefficient" and thus disposable.

It is worth noting that engaging teachers in "irrelevant work" while blaming them for poor outcomes is a deliberate strategy to discredit the public education system. Once delegitimised, privatisation becomes easier to justify. And, who gets left out? The poor. The Dalits. The Muslims. The Minorities. The tribals. For-profit institutions rarely cater to those who cannot pay. Thus, privatisation, in this context, is not reform—it is exclusion.

The Vanishing Mid-Day Meal and Its Consequences
One of the unspoken consequences of school mergers is the disruption of the mid-day meal scheme. For millions of children, this is the only guaranteed nutritious meal they receive each day. By shutting down small local schools, the scheme's logistical infrastructure collapses—cooks lose their jobs, food suppliers are disbanded, and children go hungry.

The scheme was never just about hunger—it was about dignity, health, and access to essential resources. It was about convincing poor parents that education came with tangible benefits. Ending or weakening this program undercuts not just educational incentives but survival itself. "What will happen to the mid-day meal scheme?" This question deserves national attention. The silence around it is telling.

Silencing the Voices of Resistance
What makes this shift even more troubling is the silencing of critique. Teachers' unions, Dalit activists, child rights advocates, and even elected representatives have repeatedly flagged the dangers of the current trajectory. But their warnings are either ignored or dismissed as "politically motivated."

In a functioning democracy, dissent is a form of care. It is a check against authoritarian overreach. However, the current educational reforms are being implemented with minimal consultation, often justified through opaque data and slogans such as "Digital India" or "Viksit Bharat." By marginalising dissenting voices—whether from the political opposition, civil society, or affected communities—the state reveals its indifference to inclusive policymaking.