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The Hindu
37 minutes ago
- Politics
- The Hindu
Late-night mission to Anvar's house puts Mamkootathil in a spot
A furtive late-night visit to All India Trinamool Congress (AITMC) leader P.V. Anvar's house in Malappuram, ostensibly to beseech him not to contest in the Nilambur Assembly bypoll, appears to have put Youth Congress State president Rahul Mamkootathil, and his party's leadership, in a spot. Discomfitingly for the Congress, the Communist Party of India (Marxist) [CPI(M)] campaign in Nilambur alleged that Mr. Mamkootathil had fallen to his knees in supplication in front of Mr. Anvar at the behest of his 'mentor' and Leader of the Opposition V.D. Satheesan, and the UDF was panicky about the AITMC leader's independent electoral foray. The CPI(M) disseminated viral videos of Mr. Mamkootathil glad-handling Mr. Anvar. Mr. Anvar, a twice-elected Left Democratic Front-backed (LDF) Independent legislator from Nilambur, had lobbied for a position in the United Democratic Front (UDF) since his bitter exit from the ruling front, consequent to his resignation as Nilambur MLA. and political re-emergence as the AITMC's State coordinator. Mr. Mamkootathil's 'self-styled mission' to Mr. Anvar came on the day when the UDF proclaimed it was loath to accommodate Mr. Anvar in the alliance until the latter agreed to withdraw his public scepticism about the winnability of Congress candidate Aryadan Shoukath in Nilambur. The UDF also appeared chary of Mr. Anvar's alleged bid to dictate the candidate selection process by suggesting the name of another local leader from the Christian settler-farmer community, a significant electoral bloc in the constituency, instead. 'A disservice' Mr. Satheesan disavowed Mr. Mamkootathil's overture to Mr. Anvar. He said Mr. Mamkootathil had done the party and the UDF a disservice. Neither the Congress nor the UDF had tasked him to play an emissary's role. 'He went on his own volition, and I have castigated him for the unsanctioned act,' he said. Mr. Mamkootathil said he had called on Mr. Anvar to persuade the latter not to lose focus on dismantling 'Pinarayism,' a UDF euphemism for Chief Minister Pinarayi Vijayan's governance. His response Mr. Mamkootathil dismissed accusations that he had left a UDF campaign meeting for the impromptu late-night embassy without informing party colleagues and in an alleged act of political one-upmanship. 'I accept the Congress's decision that I had erred,' he said. Mr. Anvar said he had told Mr. Mamkootathil that Mr. Satheesan was the sole obstacle to his UDF entry and alleged that the Leader of the Opposition was in cahoots with Mr. Vijayan to deny the AITMC political space in Kerala.
Scoop
2 hours ago
- General
- Scoop
Alienation, Control, And Domestic Violence In Aotearoa
Domestic violence, particularly coercive control, is often about the exercise of dominance in environments where individuals feel powerless. Coercive control is not just about isolated incidents of violence but about the systematic subjugation of … Domestic violence in Aotearoa New Zealand is not an isolated or private phenomenon. It is a deeply political expression of alienation and systemic violence, shaped by capitalism, colonialism, and patriarchy. This article argues that the roots of domestic violence lie not merely in individual pathology but in structural conditions of powerlessness, disconnection, and enforced control. By examining the connections between alienation, lack of control over one's life, and interpersonal harm, particularly through the lens of gender and state power, we can begin to imagine pathways beyond punishment, toward collective liberation. Alienation: The Dislocation of Self and Whānau The Marxist concept of alienation refers to the estrangement of individuals from their labour, from others, and from their own human potential under capitalist conditions. In Aotearoa, this alienation has uniquely developed within a colonial capitalist economy that forcibly displaced Māori from their land and reorganised society around wage labour, private property, and the nuclear family. For both tangata whenua and tauiwi working-class communities, this has produced widespread experiences of isolation, disconnection, and despair. Capitalist alienation is not simply economic, it is also emotional, cultural, and spiritual. The loss of communal structures, extended whānau support, and collective responsibility leaves individuals adrift in a world governed by competition and scarcity. Capitalism even commodifies emotional labour, reducing care and affection to transactions in service of the market. In such a society, people are often unable to meet their own emotional needs or to form meaningful, non-hierarchical relationships. Men, in particular, are taught to derive their self-worth from productivity, control, and external validation. When jobs disappear, or when the role of provider becomes unattainable, they are left without any socially acceptable means of expressing vulnerability or failure. Unemployment, poverty, and housing precarity all exacerbate this disconnection. In Aotearoa, working-class men and particularly Māori men are overrepresented in mental health statistics, suicide data, and criminal offending, all symptoms of a deeper social alienation. For Māori, this alienation is compounded by colonisation. The dislocation from whenua, language, tikanga, and traditional modes of collective living is a form of structural violence that has eroded whakapapa-based support systems. According to Durie, Māori wellbeing is rooted in a holistic balance across taha wairua, hinengaro, tinana, and whānau. Alienation disrupts all of these dimensions, creating spiritual and relational wounds that are often reproduced in the home. Alienation, then, is not an abstract or metaphorical concept. It is experienced in the loneliness of a man cut off from his tamariki due to a Family Court order. It is felt in the shame of a father unable to feed his whānau because the supermarket is too expensive and the benefit too small. It manifests in the numbness of someone who drinks until they blackout, just to feel some sense of peace. These are not isolated tragedies; they are the daily outcomes of an economic and political system that fragments human connection. Control: The Illusion of Power in a Powerless World Closely linked to alienation is the issue of control. In a society where most people have little say over their work, housing, or political representation, the need for control often becomes displaced into the personal sphere. The home, and more specifically the intimate relationship, can become a site where individuals attempt to reclaim a sense of mastery they lack elsewhere. Domestic violence, particularly coercive control, is often about the exercise of dominance in environments where individuals feel powerless. Coercive control is not just about isolated incidents of violence but about the systematic subjugation of another person's autonomy. It includes surveillance, manipulation, isolation, and emotional abuse, strategies that mirror the broader structures of control found in workplaces, prisons, and welfare agencies. Men who perpetrate violence often describe feeling out of control in their lives – whether due to unemployment, trauma, or systemic racism – and respond by trying to assert control where they can. This dynamic is not excusable, but it is intelligible within a system that denies people agency and then punishes them for responding to that denial in harmful ways. Neoliberal ideology exacerbates this by promoting the myth of personal responsibility. Individuals are told that success or failure is entirely their own doing. When they inevitably fail due to structural barriers like colonisation, capitalism, and discrimination, they are blamed and shamed. This fosters resentment, entitlement, and toxic forms of self-worth built on dominating others. It is no coincidence that domestic violence often increases during economic crises, when people's sense of control over their lives is most threatened. In the New Zealand context, the link between social control and domestic violence is evident in the way institutions discipline the poor. Work and Income imposes rigid behavioural conditions for access to basic needs. Oranga Tamariki polices the parenting of Māori mothers. The criminal justice system punishes symptoms of trauma while refusing to address its causes. These mechanisms not only fail to reduce harm – they replicate it. Masculinity: Manufactured Strength, Manufactured Violence Masculinity in settler-colonial capitalist Aotearoa is not a neutral construct. It is engineered through institutions and ideology to uphold systems of dominance and accumulation. Hegemonic masculinity refers to the dominant cultural ideal of manhood that legitimises male power over women and marginalised men. In Aotearoa, this has historically taken the form of the 'rugged individual,' the stoic provider, the emotionally repressed worker – figures perfectly suited to a colonial and capitalist economy. As economic security has deteriorated under neoliberalism, these masculine ideals have become both more impossible and more dangerous. Men are still expected to perform dominance and self-sufficiency, but the conditions to do so are vanishing. This leads to a crisis of masculine identity that is often resolved through violence against women, against children, and against other men. Domestic violence is not a breakdown of masculinity; it is masculinity functioning exactly as designed within systems that prize control and repress vulnerability. Māori men have been particularly targeted by colonial constructions of masculinity. The colonial state has produced an image of the Māori man as 'primitive' or 'hyper-masculine,' using this stereotype to justify both their exclusion and their punishment. This has contributed to Māori men being over-policed, over-incarcerated, and over-vilified in public discourse. It also distances them from traditional forms of mana tāne rooted in protection, emotional balance, and collective responsibility. Pre-colonial Māori gender relations were often based on complementary roles rather than rigid binaries. Concepts like mana wahine and whanaungatanga offered frameworks for relational balance. Colonisation disrupted these through the imposition of patriarchal Christianity, private property relations, and legal systems that marginalised wāhine and redefined tāne in Western terms. The result is a toxic hybrid masculinity, both colonised and colonising, that expresses itself in controlling and violent behaviours. Resisting violent masculinity requires more than behaviour change programmes. It demands a fundamental rethinking of what it means to be a man, and indeed whether we need rigid gendered categories at all. Anarchist and decolonial feminisms propose abolishing masculinity as a system of dominance and cultivating new identities based on aroha, accountability, interdependence, and healing. Some community-based programmes like She Is Not Your Rehab and Māori men's wānanga offer glimpses of this future, though they remain on the margins of state policy. State Responses: Punishment Without Healing Despite decades of public concern, the state's response to domestic violence remains overwhelmingly punitive. While legislation has expanded the scope of what counts as family violence, the core response remains centred on police, courts, and prisons. This carceral approach treats violence as an individual failing rather than a structural issue, and in doing so, it often exacerbates the very harms it claims to address. Police are the frontline of family violence interventions, yet policing is itself a form of colonial violence. The New Zealand Police have a long history of disproportionately targeting Māori, using excessive force, and failing to protect victims, particularly when those victims are Māori women. Rather than offering safety, police involvement often increases the danger for women and whānau, especially in communities already over-policed. Corrections-based programmes for violent men are similarly flawed. They are often short-term, one-size-fits-all, and compliance-driven. They rarely engage with the cultural, historical, and social contexts of men's violence. Worse still, imprisonment itself is a violent and traumatising experience that removes people from their support networks and embeds them further in cycles of shame and disconnection. Even non-custodial interventions like protection orders and mandated group programmes function within a surveillance framework. Men are monitored and punished for non-compliance, but rarely offered the deep, relational work needed for genuine transformation. This reflects a broader trend in neoliberal governance: managing risk rather than fostering change. Meanwhile, Oranga Tamariki removes Māori children from their whānau at rates reminiscent of the stolen generations. In 2020, Māori made up 70% of children in state care despite being only 16% of the population. These removals sever whānau connections, reinforce distrust of institutions, and perpetuate trauma. They are state violence masquerading as child protection. Anarcho-communist and abolitionist approaches reject the notion that the state can solve violence through coercion. State institutions like prisons and police exist to manage the consequences of inequality, not to eliminate them. Real safety comes not from more surveillance, but from deeper community ties, access to resources, and collective accountability. There are promising alternatives. Kaupapa Māori justice initiatives like Te Pae Oranga (iwi-led restorative panels), whānau hui, and mana-enhancing programmes grounded in tikanga offer holistic approaches to harm that restore relationships rather than sever them. Feminist transformative justice practices focus on survivor empowerment, community healing, and perpetrator accountability without relying on the carceral state. These alternatives are not perfect, but they point toward a different horizon. One where safety is not imposed from above, but built from below. One where harm is addressed not through punishment, but through solidarity and transformation. Conclusion: Toward Liberation and Accountability Domestic violence in Aotearoa cannot be understood apart from the systems that produce alienation, inequality, and control. It is not an aberration, but a feature of a colonial capitalist society that isolates people, denies them agency, and teaches them that domination is love. Ending violence requires more than reform. It requires dismantling the structures that make violence logical and rewarding – patriarchy, colonisation, capitalism, and the carceral state. It requires building new systems rooted in manaakitanga, whanaungatanga, mutual aid, and collective care. As anarcho-communists, we support and amplify the work already being done in our communities to build alternatives. We must continue to challenge violent masculinities, support survivors, decolonise our relationships, and hold each other accountable, not through shame, but through commitment to transformation. In the words of abolitionist Mariame Kaba: 'Hope is a discipline.' The struggle against domestic violence is the struggle for a world where everyone has power over their own lives, connection to their communities, and freedom from fear. That world is not only possible – it is necessary.
Scoop
3 hours ago
- General
- Scoop
Alienation, Control, And Domestic Violence In Aotearoa
Domestic violence in Aotearoa New Zealand is not an isolated or private phenomenon. It is a deeply political expression of alienation and systemic violence, shaped by capitalism, colonialism, and patriarchy. This article argues that the roots of domestic violence lie not merely in individual pathology but in structural conditions of powerlessness, disconnection, and enforced control. By examining the connections between alienation, lack of control over one's life, and interpersonal harm, particularly through the lens of gender and state power, we can begin to imagine pathways beyond punishment, toward collective liberation. Alienation: The Dislocation of Self and Whānau The Marxist concept of alienation refers to the estrangement of individuals from their labour, from others, and from their own human potential under capitalist conditions. In Aotearoa, this alienation has uniquely developed within a colonial capitalist economy that forcibly displaced Māori from their land and reorganised society around wage labour, private property, and the nuclear family. For both tangata whenua and tauiwi working-class communities, this has produced widespread experiences of isolation, disconnection, and despair. Capitalist alienation is not simply economic, it is also emotional, cultural, and spiritual. The loss of communal structures, extended whānau support, and collective responsibility leaves individuals adrift in a world governed by competition and scarcity. Capitalism even commodifies emotional labour, reducing care and affection to transactions in service of the market. In such a society, people are often unable to meet their own emotional needs or to form meaningful, non-hierarchical relationships. Men, in particular, are taught to derive their self-worth from productivity, control, and external validation. When jobs disappear, or when the role of provider becomes unattainable, they are left without any socially acceptable means of expressing vulnerability or failure. Unemployment, poverty, and housing precarity all exacerbate this disconnection. In Aotearoa, working-class men and particularly Māori men are overrepresented in mental health statistics, suicide data, and criminal offending, all symptoms of a deeper social alienation. For Māori, this alienation is compounded by colonisation. The dislocation from whenua, language, tikanga, and traditional modes of collective living is a form of structural violence that has eroded whakapapa-based support systems. According to Durie, Māori wellbeing is rooted in a holistic balance across taha wairua, hinengaro, tinana, and whānau. Alienation disrupts all of these dimensions, creating spiritual and relational wounds that are often reproduced in the home. Alienation, then, is not an abstract or metaphorical concept. It is experienced in the loneliness of a man cut off from his tamariki due to a Family Court order. It is felt in the shame of a father unable to feed his whānau because the supermarket is too expensive and the benefit too small. It manifests in the numbness of someone who drinks until they blackout, just to feel some sense of peace. These are not isolated tragedies; they are the daily outcomes of an economic and political system that fragments human connection. Control: The Illusion of Power in a Powerless World Closely linked to alienation is the issue of control. In a society where most people have little say over their work, housing, or political representation, the need for control often becomes displaced into the personal sphere. The home, and more specifically the intimate relationship, can become a site where individuals attempt to reclaim a sense of mastery they lack elsewhere. Domestic violence, particularly coercive control, is often about the exercise of dominance in environments where individuals feel powerless. Coercive control is not just about isolated incidents of violence but about the systematic subjugation of another person's autonomy. It includes surveillance, manipulation, isolation, and emotional abuse, strategies that mirror the broader structures of control found in workplaces, prisons, and welfare agencies. Men who perpetrate violence often describe feeling out of control in their lives - whether due to unemployment, trauma, or systemic racism - and respond by trying to assert control where they can. This dynamic is not excusable, but it is intelligible within a system that denies people agency and then punishes them for responding to that denial in harmful ways. Neoliberal ideology exacerbates this by promoting the myth of personal responsibility. Individuals are told that success or failure is entirely their own doing. When they inevitably fail due to structural barriers like colonisation, capitalism, and discrimination, they are blamed and shamed. This fosters resentment, entitlement, and toxic forms of self-worth built on dominating others. It is no coincidence that domestic violence often increases during economic crises, when people's sense of control over their lives is most threatened. In the New Zealand context, the link between social control and domestic violence is evident in the way institutions discipline the poor. Work and Income imposes rigid behavioural conditions for access to basic needs. Oranga Tamariki polices the parenting of Māori mothers. The criminal justice system punishes symptoms of trauma while refusing to address its causes. These mechanisms not only fail to reduce harm - they replicate it. Masculinity: Manufactured Strength, Manufactured Violence Masculinity in settler-colonial capitalist Aotearoa is not a neutral construct. It is engineered through institutions and ideology to uphold systems of dominance and accumulation. Hegemonic masculinity refers to the dominant cultural ideal of manhood that legitimises male power over women and marginalised men. In Aotearoa, this has historically taken the form of the 'rugged individual,' the stoic provider, the emotionally repressed worker - figures perfectly suited to a colonial and capitalist economy. As economic security has deteriorated under neoliberalism, these masculine ideals have become both more impossible and more dangerous. Men are still expected to perform dominance and self-sufficiency, but the conditions to do so are vanishing. This leads to a crisis of masculine identity that is often resolved through violence against women, against children, and against other men. Domestic violence is not a breakdown of masculinity; it is masculinity functioning exactly as designed within systems that prize control and repress vulnerability. Māori men have been particularly targeted by colonial constructions of masculinity. The colonial state has produced an image of the Māori man as 'primitive' or 'hyper-masculine,' using this stereotype to justify both their exclusion and their punishment. This has contributed to Māori men being over-policed, over-incarcerated, and over-vilified in public discourse. It also distances them from traditional forms of mana tāne rooted in protection, emotional balance, and collective responsibility. Pre-colonial Māori gender relations were often based on complementary roles rather than rigid binaries. Concepts like mana wahine and whanaungatanga offered frameworks for relational balance. Colonisation disrupted these through the imposition of patriarchal Christianity, private property relations, and legal systems that marginalised wāhine and redefined tāne in Western terms. The result is a toxic hybrid masculinity, both colonised and colonising, that expresses itself in controlling and violent behaviours. Resisting violent masculinity requires more than behaviour change programmes. It demands a fundamental rethinking of what it means to be a man, and indeed whether we need rigid gendered categories at all. Anarchist and decolonial feminisms propose abolishing masculinity as a system of dominance and cultivating new identities based on aroha, accountability, interdependence, and healing. Some community-based programmes like She Is Not Your Rehab and Māori men's wānanga offer glimpses of this future, though they remain on the margins of state policy. State Responses: Punishment Without Healing Despite decades of public concern, the state's response to domestic violence remains overwhelmingly punitive. While legislation has expanded the scope of what counts as family violence, the core response remains centred on police, courts, and prisons. This carceral approach treats violence as an individual failing rather than a structural issue, and in doing so, it often exacerbates the very harms it claims to address. Police are the frontline of family violence interventions, yet policing is itself a form of colonial violence. The New Zealand Police have a long history of disproportionately targeting Māori, using excessive force, and failing to protect victims, particularly when those victims are Māori women. Rather than offering safety, police involvement often increases the danger for women and whānau, especially in communities already over-policed. Corrections-based programmes for violent men are similarly flawed. They are often short-term, one-size-fits-all, and compliance-driven. They rarely engage with the cultural, historical, and social contexts of men's violence. Worse still, imprisonment itself is a violent and traumatising experience that removes people from their support networks and embeds them further in cycles of shame and disconnection. Even non-custodial interventions like protection orders and mandated group programmes function within a surveillance framework. Men are monitored and punished for non-compliance, but rarely offered the deep, relational work needed for genuine transformation. This reflects a broader trend in neoliberal governance: managing risk rather than fostering change. Meanwhile, Oranga Tamariki removes Māori children from their whānau at rates reminiscent of the stolen generations. In 2020, Māori made up 70% of children in state care despite being only 16% of the population. These removals sever whānau connections, reinforce distrust of institutions, and perpetuate trauma. They are state violence masquerading as child protection. Anarcho-communist and abolitionist approaches reject the notion that the state can solve violence through coercion. State institutions like prisons and police exist to manage the consequences of inequality, not to eliminate them. Real safety comes not from more surveillance, but from deeper community ties, access to resources, and collective accountability. There are promising alternatives. Kaupapa Māori justice initiatives like Te Pae Oranga (iwi-led restorative panels), whānau hui, and mana-enhancing programmes grounded in tikanga offer holistic approaches to harm that restore relationships rather than sever them. Feminist transformative justice practices focus on survivor empowerment, community healing, and perpetrator accountability without relying on the carceral state. These alternatives are not perfect, but they point toward a different horizon. One where safety is not imposed from above, but built from below. One where harm is addressed not through punishment, but through solidarity and transformation. Conclusion: Toward Liberation and Accountability Domestic violence in Aotearoa cannot be understood apart from the systems that produce alienation, inequality, and control. It is not an aberration, but a feature of a colonial capitalist society that isolates people, denies them agency, and teaches them that domination is love. Ending violence requires more than reform. It requires dismantling the structures that make violence logical and rewarding - patriarchy, colonisation, capitalism, and the carceral state. It requires building new systems rooted in manaakitanga, whanaungatanga, mutual aid, and collective care. As anarcho-communists, we support and amplify the work already being done in our communities to build alternatives. We must continue to challenge violent masculinities, support survivors, decolonise our relationships, and hold each other accountable, not through shame, but through commitment to transformation. In the words of abolitionist Mariame Kaba: 'Hope is a discipline.' The struggle against domestic violence is the struggle for a world where everyone has power over their own lives, connection to their communities, and freedom from fear. That world is not only possible - it is necessary.
The Hindu
10 hours ago
- Politics
- The Hindu
BJP fields Kerala Congress leader as party's candidate in Nilambur
Ending weeks of uncertainty, the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) national leadership in New Delhi on Sunday fielded advocate Mohan George as the National Democratic Alliance's (NDA) candidate for the Nilambur Assembly byelection. Mr. George, who entered politics as a leader of the Kerala Students Congress (KSC), was a close associate of the late founder of the Kerala Congress (B) [KC(B)], R. Balakrishna Pillai, for long. He later switched to several Kerala Congress parties and joined the Kerala Congress, a United Democratic Front (UDF) ally. Voters' orientation The BJP, which initially termed the bypoll at the fag end of the second Pinarayi Vijayan government as inconsequential, had realised that it could ill-afford to remain on the sidelines in the pivotal poll, widely reckoned an approximate point of reference to gauge the orientation of Kerala voters in the run-up to the 2026 Assembly polls. Nevertheless, questions about Mr. George's current political leanings prompted the Left Democratic Front (LDF) and the United Democratic Front (UDF) campaigns in Nilambur to accuse each other of 'gifting' the BJP a candidate from the Christian settler farmer community, a significant electoral bloc in the constituency. (The BJP had garnered 17,000 votes in the Nilambur Assembly segment in the 2024 Lok Sabha elections.) Kerala Congress leader Mons Joseph, MLA, denied the LDF's accusation that Mr. George was a party member. He said Mr. George had switched allegiance to the Kerala Congress (M), an LDF ally. The LDF countered it by publishing photographs of Mr. George attending the Kerala Congress district convention in Malappuram last month. Communist Party of India (Marxist) State committee member and LDF's candidate for Nilambur bypoll M. Swaraj said the BJP found the UDF a favourite hunting ground to poach for ideologically ambiguous leaders, and Mr. George was the latest. BJP membership Mr. George is a Malankara Mar Thoma Syrian Church member, an Oriental Protestant Christian denomination. He said he would soon accept the BJP's primary membership and file his nomination papers on Monday. Mr. George said BJP leader Noble Mather had invited him to join the party. He said the Bharath Dharma Jana Sena, a BJP ally widely perceived as the Sree Narayana Dharma Paripalana Yogam's political arm with sizable pockets of influence in the backwards class Ezhava community, had declined the Nilambur seat and suggested his name instead. (Girish Mekkatu, a BDJS leader, garnered 12,000 votes in the 2016 Assembly elections in Nilambur. In 2021, the BJP's vote share in the constituency had dwindled to 8,500 when the party pitched its candidate T.K. Ashok Kumar.)
The Wire
13 hours ago
- Politics
- The Wire
A Look at the Left Govt in Kerala and the Times It Emboldened the Sangh
His fans call him the captain, his admirers value his no-nonsense approach and his detractors despise him as a 'dhoti clad Modi in disguise' . Notwithstanding the praises and admonitions, the importance of being Pinarayi Vijayan is obvious. He is the lone chief minister of the Left in India and the most important face of the Communist Party of India (Marxist). And now octogenarian Vijayan is vying for a third consecutive term after creating history of sorts, when his government was voted back to power in 2021. At a time when the Left in India is gasping for breath and the right juggernaut continues unabated, Left rule in Kerala has become all the more important not just for its sympathisers, but for all who seek an alternative to majoritarianism. Over nine years in power, how much of an alternative did Pinarayi Vijayan provide for the rest of the country to emulate? The earnest attempt to answer this would have to involve the age-old paradox of a Left government functioning under a neoliberal, majoritarian rule and the ideological ambiguities and complexities of the communist party working in a parliamentary democracy and the commitment of the political leadership. Ever since he joined active politics and became a member of the legislative assembly at the age of 25, Vijayan has been actively embroiled in the machinations of parliamentary power politics. Pragmatist to the core, Vijayan gave predominance to strategising for winning elections. Like former Chinese leader Deng Xiopeng, Vijayan did not bother about the 'colour of the cat as long as it catches mice'. Pragmatism, as a political tool, is often at odds with the ideologies of the organisations. Hence a pragmatist is at the risk of being labeled as 'revisionist' or 'opportunist' by the 'puritans' within and outside the organisation. The communist leaders who led the party in government have always had to walk a tightrope, balancing ideology and practical compulsions, necessitated by working under a practically centralised government. When the first communist government, led by E.M.S Nambodiripad invited G.D. Birla to invest in the state, offering him natural resources at throwaway prices, questions were raised from some quarters alleging 'ideological deviations' against the then CPI(M) government. The ideological dilemma of working under a capitalist system and pursuing a 'revolutionary programme' has been the hallmark of almost all Left governments. Vijayan has attempted to overcome this dilemma, first as the secretary of the CPI(M) and now as the chief minister. He jettisoned ideological pretensions and chose pragmatism as the guiding principle. Leaving aside ideological baggage and renouncing revolutionary rhetoric for all practical purposes, Vijayan led the party to imbibe the narrative on development accepted and propagated by all other mainstream political parties. This is visible by the development document he presented at CPI(M) state conference s and the slew of policy measures his government initiated, including welcoming foreign capital in the industry and education sectors. That he was able to push his party into accepting these big policy changes without any dissension points either to his strangulating hold over the party or the ideological void among the cadres. But, in the end, this 'policy shift' should be seen as a way out of the dilemma the party faced whenever it was elected to rule under an antagonising central government. This can be construed as the inability of the Left to have an alternative development policy for the state while working within a capitalist system. To pursue an alternative model in a structure where the states do not have much room is easier said than done, especially when the central government is out to destabilise fiscal federalism. Though Vijayan is praised even by political opponents for being 'non-dogmatic,' he is iron-willed in maintaining party organisation according to the 'Leninist principle of democratic centralism'. Adversaries allege that he uses this to sideline or neutralise those who are not in his good book . They maintain that by the selective use of this century-old organisational dictum, Vijayan impaired democratic culture by promoting those who show total servility. Vijayan's nine-year rule is significant in Kerala's history not because of how his dominance changed the CPI(M), but because his and the party's stand on various occasions, at least during the last nine years, has given credence to the majoritarian arguments on various issues. The handling of political dissidents and the knee-jerk reactions on various social and political issues by the government and the party have inadvertently or otherwise emboldened the Sangh parivar's ideological campaigns. The Sangh agenda Let us look at some instances when the Sangh agenda has reflected in Vijayan's actions 1. Maoist killing During the first five years in rule, seven Maoists were killed by the Kerala police. Civil society and human rights groups alleged that these ultra-leftists were gunned down in fake encounters. The CPI(M)-appointed fact-finding mission corroborated the stand taken by the human rights groups. But the government did not budge and no worthwhile actions were taken. Bharatiya Janata Party and the Sangh parivar defended the government. 2. Economic Reservation Vijayan-led Left Democratic Front was the first government to introduce upper-caste reservation camouflaged as economic reservations. This has strengthened the anti-caste reservation campaign often unleashed by Sangh parivar groups 3. Islamophobia The last Lok Sabha election saw BJP opening its account in Kerala and a sizeable increase in its vote share, especially among the Ezhava community , which has hitherto been the bedrock of the CPI(M). The political shift of a significant section of the Hindu voters, who had earlier put their faith in CPI(M), has raised alarm bells within the left circles. CPI(M) thought of overcoming this by intensifying political attacks against Muslim organisations, including the Muslim League, which is part of the Congress-led United Democratic Front (UDF), and Jamaat-e-Islami. At one point, the CPI(M) politburo member A. Vijayaraghavan alleged that Congress leaders Rahul and Priyanka Gandhi won elections from Wayanad with the support of Muslim fundamentalists. This statement was used by the BJP to target Congress. The continuous virulent attack against Muslim organisations created a political atmosphere conducive for the Sangh parivar to carry out their anti-Muslim campaign. 'The land of three internal enemies' The most severe attack against the Vijayan government came from the police. Even left sympathisers alleged that a section of the police officers are showing allegiance to Sangh parivar. Those who criticised the police policy got shot in the arm when reports of a secret meeting between ADGP Ajith Kumar and RSS leader Dattatreya Hosable and Ram Madhav came out. Though the secret meeting raised huge controversy, no action has been taken against the police officer. When Sree Narayana Darma Paripala (SNDP) Yogam General Secretary Vellappally Natesan spewed communal venom against the Muslim majority Malappuram district by describing it as a place where Muslim domination has pushed other Ezhava community to the sidelines, it invited huge condemnation. But chief minister Vijayan came to the rescue of the SNDP leader by praising him 'as a leader who does not take a stand against any particular community and also praised his social service. For RSS and the Sangh organisations, Kerala is a land where all three 'internal enemies' – the Muslims, the Christians and the Communists – as elucidated by RSS ideologue MS Golwalkar, have a significant presence. Hence, the RSS attached great importance to 'conquering' Kerala, as this would be construed as subjugating the 'internal enemies.' Notwithstanding the BJP's poor electoral performance, the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh is running more than 5.000 shakhas in Kerala – more than the number in Madhya Pradesh and Gujarat! Left parties, especially the CPI(M), were in the forefront in scuttling the pernicious methods employed by the Sangh in the state. Vijayan was vociferous and unrelenting in his fight against the Sangh parivar. But skeptics maintain that there is a marked change in his approach since he became chief minister. Over the last nine years, the RSS has been able to spread its tentacles widely, using, among other things, the politically lethargic attitude of the government. What effect will this lackadaisical approach of the Left have on Kerala polity? The 2026 Assembly election, in all probability, will tell. N.K. Bhoopesh is a journalist and columnist based in Kochi, Kerala.
