Preserving TU's Academic Sanctity

A university is a place of learning — an institution devoted to study, teaching, research, and intellectual exploration. It may embrace every field of knowledge or specialise in a particular discipline, but its environment must always nurture reflection, inquiry, and creativity. For this reason, universities around the world are often founded in quiet, peaceful locations far removed from the chaos of daily urban life.

Tribhuvan University’s location in Kirtipur was chosen with exactly these principles in mind. The site offered natural serenity, breathtaking views of the northern snow peaks, and the embrace of green hills on all sides. The late Laxmi Prasad Devkota— our beloved, great poet, scholar, and visionary — played a crucial role as a member of the university establishment committee in the selection of this site. His vivid description of the site’s beauty and suitability remains recorded in the university’s early documents. Those words are truly worth reading even today.

Far-sighted master plans 

From the beginning, the university possessed all the core facilities required for academic life: a well-organised library, a health centre, a bank, a cafeteria, a football ground, gardens, student dormitories, residential quarters for professors and officials, and numerous halls for speeches, seminars, and academic gatherings. Buildings for various faculties, research centres, and administrative offices gradually took shape. The foundation for a vibrant academic atmosphere was firmly laid, even if our limited financial resources prevented us from fully developing the campus according to the far-sighted master plans envisioned in the early years.

During the Panchayat period, political interference led the university to establish an arrangement with the Nepal Sports Council, allowing it to use the football ground for occasional tournaments. Although these events were infrequent, they marked the beginning of a gradual erosion of the academic environment. Crowds, noise, and commotion invaded a space designed for quiet study and scholarly pursuits. Yet, because the events were rare, the disturbance remained tolerable.

After the restoration of multi-party democracy, Tribhuvan University — like many national institutions — fell victim to the deepening influence of politics. Appointments of vice-chancellors, rectors, and registrars became increasingly tied not to academic excellence but to political loyalty. The university effectively became an unofficial government office rather than an autonomous academic institution. Officials were compelled to follow instructions from ministers or prime ministers, regardless of their appropriateness.

I sincerely believe that my wife, Shanti Mishra, and I were forced to retire from this institution prematurely, under the guise of self-retirement, before our scheduled retirement age, along with some other high officials, due to precisely this kind of political pressure during the Vice-Chancellorship of Kedar Bhakta Mathema. This politicisation had a direct and visible impact on the campus environment. What was once a football ground has now become a full-fledged National Cricket Stadium. On match days, the peaceful university atmosphere disappears entirely — replaced by ear-splitting noise, huge crowds, overflowing vehicles, and chaos. 

The narrow roads become blocked, and the campus transforms into a marketplace of shouting, commotion, and commercial activity. The university’s purpose as an academic sanctuary is completely overshadowed. It is beyond my imagination how the head of the country or the head of the government could be so irresponsible as to pressure university authorities to convert a football ground—created for students—into a National Cricket Stadium. Such interference not only undermines academic autonomy but also reveals a shocking disregard for the university’s true purpose.

About a year ago, I personally witnessed this distressing transformation. I was on my way to the bank and to the university library—a place I have cherished since I began my service at the university in 1965. But the traffic police stopped my car at the gate, citing the overwhelming crowd for a cricket match. I initially assumed there must have been a disturbance or protest. To my surprise, the reason was simply the match. Unable to enter, I parked outside and walked toward the bank inside the campus. What I saw pained me deeply: an uncontrollable sea of people, loud vendors, and an atmosphere entirely foreign to everything a university stands for. Even reaching the bank, located before the stadium, was difficult.

Academic mission 

The serenity, dignity, and scholarly spirit of the university seemed to have been sacrificed without protest. My conscience compels me, as it always has, to speak out in support of the institution I served with dedication. If this trend continues, Tribhuvan University may gradually cease to be a genuine centre of learning. No great university in the world allows a large commercial sports stadium to dominate its academic environment. Sports facilities may exist, but they are designed for students—not for noisy national events that attract thousands of spectators and disrupt academic life. Our university buildings, including the library, are not even soundproof. Sports are important, but they must never overshadow the academic mission of the nation’s central university.

I sincerely hope that conscious students, professors, and members of the academic community will raise their voices to preserve the identity of Tribhuvan University. The cricket stadium, as it currently operates, should be relocated to a more suitable site. The university must reclaim its rightful atmosphere—quiet, contemplative, and conducive to scholarship. Tribhuvan University should remain what it was created to be: an academic centre, not a sports arena.

(Mishra, a retired official of Tribhuvan University, writes on governance and public affairs.)