It was in the town square of Hajipur, near Patna, that I received a reality check on the changing patterns of news consumption. I was engaged in a typically animated conversation with a group of first-time voters, when one of the young men launched into a diatribe against tanashahi, or dictatorship. I was impressed by his passion and spirited arguments. “Looks like you are a political science student,” I remarked. “Arre, main biology padhta hoon (I study biology). But I have been watching Dhruv Rathee’s YouTube videos. I’m sure you have also!” he responded.
Yes, I had. Well, sort of. In February 2024, a Mumbai-based friend who doesn’t like Modi sent me a WhatsApp forward of a YouTube video by Dhruv Rathee provocatively titled “Is India Becoming a Dictatorship?” The video’s thumbnail had a visual of Modi staring coldly with devilish-looking eyes. “When will you guys on TV have the guts to do something like this!” my friend raged. Sensationalist headlines and arresting visuals are designed for YouTube virality. The lively and irreverent digital sphere made even tabloid TV look dull at times.
“Honestly, I didn’t expect this kind of reaction; it was like people out there were just glad that someone was openly saying what they inwardly felt. It is a fact that democracy is under threat,” Rathee would tell me later. His success formula, as I saw it, was in the sheer simplicity and directness of his messaging. Open. Candid. Disruptive. Hard-hitting. But also, crucially, in Hindi. The credibility crisis facing TV news in general was especially aggravated on Hindi news channels, where most anchors were universally seen to toe a staunchly pro-BJP line. Worse, some were guilty of promoting the most vicious communal stereotyping and had become open purveyors of religious bigotry. Hindi is the ultimate mass-language medium, and the Modi government had its eyes and ears trained specifically on Hindi news narratives. With most Hindi TV news anchors noisily shouting down any dissenting views, Rathee was pitched as an anti-establishment counterpoint.
Sure, he too was picking a side, but he was doing it in a style that was uninterrupted and unambiguous. There was no pretence of neutrality, no lofty preachiness. He wasn’t even claiming to be a journalist; he was simply amplifying the primary data collected by on-ground journalists and then cutting through the noise to build a solid argument. One could disagree with his opinions, but there was no denying that the packaging and presentation were refreshingly different and attention-grabbing. It marked, in a sense, a generational shift. India’s young and restless wanted their news and opinions to be freed from any conventional filters. They wanted journalists to be what the press is meant to be: anti-establishment and questioning.
The original “dictatorship” video was triggered by the blatant rigging of the Chandigarh mayoral polls till a Supreme Court verdict righted a palpable wrong. “I think all of us who saw what happened in Chandigarh were angry and wanted to vent. It wasn’t just an isolated case. Arresting chief ministers, cornering electoral bonds, buying out MLAs – the fury was building up. I just felt that if I didn’t speak up now, it would be a waste of a platform,” claimed Rathee. He insisted that he isn’t left- or right- wing or even anti-Modi, but he is against the values Modi represents. “I believe in the values of free speech, liberty and tolerance; those values were at stake in 2024,” he said. His viral videos, aimed at frontally challenging mainstream media narratives, were driven by a “specific moment in time”.
Interestingly, prior to his 2024 tryst with fame, Rathee, a mechanical engineer by training, saw himself as a YouTube educator, breaking down complex topics of science and technology, society and culture. His first video in 2014 was a “fun” travel blog. In 2020, he became a full-time YouTuber with a small team that has now grown to around 15 people. Having obtained his engineering degree in Germany and set up residence “somewhere in Europe”, he is not sure of coming back home just yet. “It’s best that I don’t reveal my exact address, even though I haven’t received any threats as such beyond the usual trolling,” he said.
While Rathee is comfortably ensconced in Europe, there are other digital “insurgents” closer home. In a country with close to 700 million (70 crores) mobile users and over 500 million (50 crores) active YouTube users, thousands of YouTubers and Instagrammers are creating their own band of devoted followers and communities, building online platforms that symbolise a rapid “democratization” of news where traditional information monopolies can be challenged and alternative narratives can be set. Supporting an immense array of content creators, from established journalists to young influencers, from right-wing flag-bearers to left-wing radicals to Dalit–OBC community journalists, YouTube and Instagram are ideologically neutral spaces that remain mostly unregulated for now. At a time when a single directive from the information and broadcasting ministry could force India’s 350-plus news channels to toe the line, these sites offer a precious platform for differing viewpoints to be heard.
One of the most visible faces of this revolution is 49-year-old Ravish Kumar, a former NDTV anchor and winner of the prestigious Ramon Magsaysay Award for journalism in 2019. If Rathee had stepped into a digital news whirlwind almost by accident, Kumar was a mainstream journalist who adopted the YouTube universe because he was left with no other choice. The Adani takeover of NDTV in 2022 forced Kumar to resign after more than two decades at the network. For years, he had been the face of NDTV’s Hindi channel, NDTV India, his unique presentation style and focus on people-centric issues like exam paper leaks, government job recruitment delays and collapsing urban infrastructure making him a celebrated standout figure in the din of breaking news. “Look, Adani’s takeover has absolutely nothing to do with journalism, and staying on at NDTV was simply not an option. It was like being asked to become a proofreader at the BJP headquarters!” insisted Kumar.
In a period of personal trauma – his mother in Patna was critically ill – Kumar found staunch supporters in the loyal viewers of his flagship NDTV show. Within ten days of his breaking into the YouTube universe, he acquired a staggering 2.3 million subscribers. By the time the 2024 election cycle began, the number had crossed 10 million. “I think it was an act of rebellion by viewers who had registered the implications of the Adani takeover and decided to switch over from TV to my YouTube channel out of solidarity with an anchor speaking up for them!” he said. It was Kumar, after all, who had coined the term “godi media” in 2016 to refer, in his words, to the “total surrender of the media before one master”.
Despite international acclaim, the transition from prime-time TV to YouTube has not been easy, admitted Kumar. Getting up at 6 am every morning to write his video scripts, meticulously researching stories and supervising the editing and production with a small team is a far cry from being part of a large newsroom and legacy media brand. Working from home without institutional support can be tough: “freedom” comes at a price. Is his journalism now reduced to “anti-Modi” rants as critics allege, I ask. “If asking questions of the government, any government, by taking up pro-people topics makes me anti-Modi, then what is left to say?” he countered.
Excerpted with permission from 2024: The Election that Surprised India, Rajdeep Sardesai, HarperCollins India.