So let us formulate this question and respond to it at its logical best. In a democratic setup, is it justified to mobilise people for street protest to raise an issue, bypassing democratically elected representatives and constitutionally mandated institutions? Is this not an invitation to mobocracy — crowds that replace elected representatives, threaten institutions, hold decision-makers at ransom and force policy at gunpoint? Does this not open the doors for anarchy, a breakdown of constitutional order that would potentially hurt the marginalised sections most? Should we not defer to institutions, even if the outcomes are sub-optimal, in order to retain a framework for democratic resolution of disputes?

This seemingly innocuous line of questioning suffers from multiple flaws. It rests on a rosy picture of institutional functioning under a constitutional democracy. That is pure fiction, even in the liberal democracies of Europe and North America. Institutions are governed as much by balance of power as by the rule of law. And if institutions are less rule-governed than they pretend, crowds are more norm-governed than we like to believe. Mass mobilisations are not mad lynch mobs; more often than not, these are informal assemblies guided by a shared purpose and bound by an unwritten moral code. Above all, these street protests do not substitute the formal constitutional order. As in the case of the Jantar Mantar protests, their demands are directed at the formal institutions of parliamentary democracy and are in no way a subversion of the constitutional order.

The counter-argument unfolds in four steps. First of all, historians tell us that before the inception of modern democracies, crowds were the bearers of popular norms and customary rights and acted as a mechanism for negotiating with the rulers. E P Thompson argued that in the 18th century, English crowds were enforcing a “moral economy” against the emerging capitalist economy. So, liberal representative democracy did not invent popular participation in governance. Modern democracies have institutionalised practices that had long existed in the form of assemblies, petitions, public acclamations and collective protest by crowds.

Second, modern democracies do not and cannot eliminate the role of popular mobilisation or “contentious politics”, to borrow Sidney Tarrow’s formulation. These are silently woven into the texture of a functioning democracy. Besides the formal mechanism of responsiveness and accountability, a functioning democracy assumes a vibrant though informal process of collective action in which ordinary people make claims on governments, elites or other powerful actors through demonstrations, strikes, occupations, marches, boycotts or civil disobedience. After studying collective action in Western Europe from the 16th to the 20th century, Charles Tilly concluded that popular movements are not symptoms of democratic failure. Rather, they are products of democracy’s evolution. These are not antagonistic: Protest often leads to institutional reforms, while institutional openings stimulate further mobilisation.

The third step is to recognise the special role of popular mobilisation in democracies of the Global South. In the 20th century, most countries of the world adopted a liberal democratic form, but the institutional scaffolding was not organic and thus very weak. In all such successful democracies, such as India, popular movements and public protests filled the vacuum left by fragile institutions. In Dipesh Chakrabarty’s persuasive formulation, “multitude” — large public gatherings of ordinary people — are not an emergency response to institutional failure, but integral to the logic of democracy in India. This is the principal avenue through which the “subaltern” sections of society can make claims on the state. A comparative study of India, Brazil and South Africa by Patrick Heller arrives at similar conclusions: Crowds and mass mobilisation are not pathologies of democracy but among its principal mechanisms in unequal societies.

Finally, let us acknowledge the exceptional situation under which the recent youth protest erupted at Jantar Mantar and elsewhere. Today’s India is not a normal functioning democracy. We live in times where nearly all channels of democratic accountability and responsiveness are blocked. The rulers are in pursuit of total power, closed to any feedback. The mainstream media is captured, unwilling to carry any negative signal. So are all autonomous institutions, curbing dissenting voices. State power is being used to dismantle opposition parties. Elections are no longer the reflection of popular will, as a level playing ground does not exist. The judiciary is unable or unwilling to enforce constitutional provisions and norms. In such a situation, popular mobilisation on the street is the only mechanism available for the expression of the will of the people.

If there ever was a justification for street protest, this is a perfect instance. We should be grateful to the youth that they have chosen the path of peaceful protest that spoke to, and made demands on, constitutional authorities. Far from an insurrection that could threaten the system, this protest is a resurrection of faith in democratic politics. The youth at Jantar Mantar did not subvert democracy. They reclaimed it.

The writer is member, Swaraj India, and national convenor, Bharat Jodo Abhiyaan. Views are personal