Dr. Radhakrishnan was one of the presidents of India. Before he became a president he was a vice-chancellor, and before he became a vice-chancellor he was a professor. Because a professor, a teacher, had become the president, his birthday was celebrated all over India, particularly in religious institutions—schools, colleges, universities—as a teachers' day.
In my university also, a great celebration was made. The vice-chancellor spoke in golden words about Dr. Radhakrishnan, that it is a glory to every teacher, a dignity to every teacher, that a teacher has become the president of the country, and many other prominent professors spoke. I could not tolerate it any longer. I was not supposed to speak, for the simple reason they knew that I am not reliable; what I will say may disturb the whole thing. But I stood up and I said, "Without me speaking this celebration will not be complete." So the poor vice-chancellor, although his face became pale, invited me to speak.
I said, "This is such an absurdity that has been told to you by so many people, from the vice-chancellor, from all the deans, from all the senior professors. Cannot you see a simple thing, that a teacher has become a politician? It is a degradation; it is not respect.
A teacher does not find himself dignified as a teacher—he wants to become the president of the country. This is not a teachers' day. I will call the day `teachers' day' when a president resigns and joins a school and starts teaching there. That will be the teachers' day.
The logic is so simple—that he respects teaching, and loves teaching, more than being a president.
The vice-chancellor and the professors who were sitting on the stage were so shocked, because all the students, the whole crowd, clapped. They were agreeing with me. Just these few idiots were not clapping. I said, "You should start clapping. Can't you see, everybody is clapping, and you look so stupid not clapping." And you will be surprised—they started. What else to do? And when they started, then the students started dancing and clapping.
I said, "Now the celebration is complete; otherwise, what celebration was it? And you have been praising a man who was serving the British government—he never fought for India's freedom. He was a professor in Calcutta University, and he stole a student's thesis, the whole thesis. He was one of the examiners, and he went on delaying, saying, `I am going through it.' Meanwhile, he managed to have it published in England, in his name. And when it was published, then he returned the thesis to the university.
"The student was a poor student, but still he went to the high court. But he was such a poor man…. The case was in the high court for a few months, and Radhakrishnan had not a single word to say, because page after page, chapter after chapter, were verbatim exactly the same as the thesis.
"His whole strategy was that the book had been published before; but the university knew that the thesis has been given to him before the publication of his book. It was certain that he was going to be punished for it. It was such an ugly act. He gave ten thousand rupees to the student—and he was such a poor man, that he thought that it was better to withdraw the case. The case was withdrawn, but that does not make any difference.
"This man has used bribes to become the vice-chancellor; and the whole of India knew about the case, the whole of India knew about his bribery. And still they were praising him as if he was a sage."
When I raised these questions, all their faces fell, and the vice-chancellor uttered to the man sitting by his side, "I was afraid of this from the very beginning. That's why I had not invited him to speak. But I never thought that he should have been prevented from coming into the conference."
I said, "If you have any answer, you can give the answer. This man has not been a teacher, but a thief. And if he becomes a politician, it is not a credit to the profession of the teachers, it is a discredit. If he has still any sense, he should resign and become a teacher again."
But this is how things are. The vice-chancellor has to praise him. After the meeting he told me, "It is not good for you. They will take revenge." I said, "I am ready for every revenge, but I am not ready to say things which are absolute lies." He said, "But I cannot say it. He has appointed me as vice-chancellor of this university." This way, things go on. He has appointed him as vice-chancellor, so he has to praise him.
The whole society lives in a subtle kind of hypocrisy, in a conspiracy. One has to be courageous enough to stand alone. And he was right, that I would be taken into all kinds of revengeful situations; they have happened, they are still continuing to happen.
My whole life they will continue to take revenge just because I am not ready to compromise with the hypocrisy that society has decided to live with.
But it gives me immense joy that I am not part of a crowd, and I don't want my people to be part of a crowd. Even if you have to sacrifice your whole life, it is more joyful than to be a slave. It is better to be on the cross than to be a slave of unconscious, fast-asleep people.
Osho
❤️, Zarathustra: The Laughing Prophet, #13