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The Wire
13-07-2025
- Politics
- The Wire
Deadlines and Disappearances: The Last Stand of the Revolutionary Left
Shyam Tekwani 4 minutes ago As the Modi government sets a kill-by date for ending the Maoist insurgency, a deeper reckoning unfolds in Bastar's forests, where refusal persists long after revolution has faded. This is not the end of an ideology, but an attempt at bureaucratic deletion of memory and grievance and of the land itself. In this image via Palamu Police, Security personnel at the site after a commander of the CPI (Maoist) was killed in a gunfight with the forces, in Jharkhand's Palamu district, Tuesday, May 27, 2025. (Palamu Police via PTI Photo) It sounds like a fiction Orwell might have sketched in the margins of 1984: a modern state affixing a "kill-by" date to its own citizens. The Indian home minister's voice, flat with triumph, announced it plainly: the country would be "Naxalite-free by March 31, 2026." No caveats. No footnotes. A deadline: stamped, sealed, and sanctioned. A deadline declared, for a war that wouldn't end This declaration, on paper, was of resolve. In the forests of Chhattisgarh, it sounded like an ultimatum. A clock had begun ticking, not toward peace, but toward erasure. The deadline was not a plan. It was a purge by calendar, bureaucratic violence rendered as progress. The war against India's Maoist insurgency is now nearly six decades old. It endures, not as ideology, but as refusal. It is the deep, slow resistance of rock against erosion, a silent declaration that some ground will not be yielded. What does it mean to wage war on a memory? From a peasant uprising in Naxalbari in 1967, the movement once stretched across a third of the country, its fighters dug into the forests, its sympathisers scattered across university campuses and marginal farmlands alike. But the rebellion was never meant to be permanent. It was, in its imagination, a fire to be lit, to engulf, to transform. Instead, it endured, scorched, hunted, diminished and dispersed. It smouldered not in doctrine but in memory. It mutters in the leaves, in the bodies unclaimed, in the names unspoken. And now, it is to be extinguished. Operation Kagar and the bureaucracy of violence In April, the Minister doubled down on the state's newest campaign, Operation Kagar. Over 400 alleged Maoists have been killed since the beginning of 2024, 140 in the first three months of 2025 alone, many with bounties placed on their heads. There was no official response to proposals for a ceasefire. Dozens of 'surrenders' have been paraded on television. The killing of Basavaraju, the Naxalite commander-in-chief, was hailed as a 'decisive blow,' a ' turning point,' a punctuation mark on an era the state had already declared over. The official line is clear: the Red Corridor is closing, as if rebellion could be mapped in ink and sealed by decree. But insurgencies don't end by press release. Even as the state sets its definitive deadlines, the Naxalite movement, in its deep-rooted resistance, holds to its own calendar of remembrance, marking July, for instance, with solemn commemorations of Charu Majumdar's death, an event that continues to fuel their narrative of defiance despite official attempts to relegate it to forgotten history. Elsewhere, the political weather has shifted: the world lurches rightward. The age of the charismatic technocrat and the flag-wrapped populist is ascendant. Nationalism is resurgent. Borders are sacred again. Yet, a compelling paradox persists: as the world lurches right, the revolutionary Left, against all odds, like smoke trapped under stone, continues to draw breath. In the Indo-Pacific, the answer lies not in theory, but in geography: in mountains, jungles, and rivers that do not forget. Forests do not forgive. They absorb. Slowly. Without permission. Across the region, insurgent movements of the Left ended in different ways. In Nepal, a decade of war gave way not to defeat but absorption; Prachanda, the guerrilla, became prime minister; he now sits in parliament. The revolution was mainstreamed, not fulfilled. In Sri Lanka, the Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna rose and was crushed, twice, its history folded into slogans, its ghosts buried in unmarked graves. Its leader is now the country's president. In the Philippines, the New People's Army endures as Asia's oldest communist insurgency, not as threat but as haunting; ritual without momentum, grievance without ground. Elsewhere, the Left either seized the state or was buried beneath it. But only in India does the rebellion persist, not as strategy, nor even as doctrine, but as sediment. Dust that does not settle, only stirs. The forest does not forget. The land quietly, and without apology, refuses its appropriation. Only here has the rebellion outlived its revolution. A cartography not of hope, but of containment The state calls it the Red Corridor, a diagonal scar stretching from Andhra Pradesh to the forests of Bastar in southern Chhattisgarh. Once it ran wider: into Bihar, Jharkhand, Odisha, Maharashtra. Now it has been narrowed, militarised and renamed. On maps, the area is shaded in warning colours. In policy memos, it is referred to as 'left-wing extremism–affected districts.' In the field, it is something else entirely: a place where language ends and logistics begin. The Naxalite movement in India is not what it was. It has no cities. No ideology beyond survival. But the rebellion, stripped of its verses, found new voice in the roots and red earth. Its logic remains, written not in theory but in terrain. It is no longer about Marx. It is about land. In Bastar, refusal has shape. For decades, the forests here have stood in quiet refusal, resisting mining leases, road surveys, the desecration of burial grounds, resettlement schemes, paramilitary encampments. The rebellion is now embedded in the trees, in the memory of what was taken. In Bhoramdeo, a hill once circled by prayer has been marked for limestone extraction. Now, its slopes buzz with drills, not chants. In the forests, the drone hum never quite fades, and the soil near the old river crossings tastes faintly of iron and ash. Adivasis in the crosshairs The violence, when it comes, comes without warning. A patrol van ambushed. A landmine in a clearing. A retaliatory raid. How do you throw a bomb from a drone and know it will land only on a Maoist? You don't. In Karregutta, drones circled for days before the shelling began. Helicopters fired into ridgelines. Later, officials claimed that 'technical units' for IED fabrication had been destroyed. But the corpses were recovered slowly, some unidentifiable, others wrapped in yellow plastic. Ferried down, slowly, from the hills. You name the corpse after the fact and hope the press release gets it right. Headlines celebrate '31 Maoists killed'; weeks later, the names don't match, and a father waits by the roadside for a body that never comes. The corpses never explain themselves. Adivasis live between the crosshairs. They are told the insurgents are their enemies. Then they are told the insurgents were once them. In Bastar, enemies are chosen retroactively. Today's suspect was yesterday's sympathiser. The past is always rewritten in the tense of the victor. Here, history is not merely forgotten; it is systematically unmade, line by line, as if by a Ministry of Truth. The silence of the forest According to published accounts from the field, the war has moved beyond combatants. Villages are razed. Women raped. 'Surrenders' are staged with locals in borrowed fatigues. Heron drones buzz overhead while schools are converted into camps. Development arrives, not with fanfare, but wrapped in camouflage netting, escorted by surveillance and suspicion. Here, progress marches in boots, ledger in hand, leaving behind ash where villages stood. Peaceful protests are treated as an 'unlawful activity' and banned. The official narrative insists that victory is near. But in Bastar, no one speaks of endings. Only of movement, of migration, of patrols, of yet another body brought to the morgue, unidentified. The Naxalites are often described as India's last armed revolutionaries. But what if that isn't quite true? What if they are less revolutionaries now than reminders, of a country still unsure what to do with its margins? In Delhi, pundits debate policy. In Dantewada, facts are not corrected; they are buried. Language doesn't evolve here, it obeys orders. The Left, as an idea, has faded in India's cities. Its vocabulary has grown brittle, its moral high ground muddied. But in the forests, the war was never theoretical. It was not about seizing the state. It was about keeping what little the state had never taken. There is a temptation, especially among the middle classes, to see the Maoist movement as anachronism, dangerous, obsolete, incoherent. And yet, the persistence of violence cannot be explained away by irrelevance. A movement does not last fifty years because it is meaningless. It lasts because the grievance it articulates has never been resolved, only renamed. To rename a grievance is to erase its cause. In official parlance, forest clearance becomes 'green development'; resistance becomes 'left-wing extremism.' Memory is the last resistance Elsewhere in the world, the Left surrendered. In Latin America, it negotiated. In Europe, it vanished into documentaries. But in India, it continues, beaten, mocked, surveilled, because the villages still burn, the mines still expand, and the state still cannot explain why development must arrive with so many coffins. What does it mean to outlive one's ideology? Perhaps it means learning to fight for something more primitive than revolution: memory, land, absence. Not transformation, but interruption. There are few photographs of this war. The land swallows evidence quickly. There is a photograph from long ago. A woman in a shawl stands in a clearing in Nepal, a rifle resting against her cheek. She does not pose. She does not smile. Her eyes do not challenge the lens. And yet they hold it, steadily, without apology. Behind her, the trees are patient. The silence has weight. She was not famous. She did not rise to command. She likely never held office. But in that image is a trace of something the world is trying very hard to forget. She does not represent victory. She represents presence. Not the kind that commands, but the kind that remembers. 'Progress' in fatigues As India approaches 2026, the date fixed for the eradication of its last active Maoist cells, the question remains: what is really being eradicated? A threat? A rebellion? Or the final visible trace of a moral discomfort that the republic has never fully absorbed? The state does not just erase the insurgency, it erases the memory of the reasons it arose. History is redacted. Grievance becomes treason. Memory is proscribed. What follows is not remembrance, but replacement. In the hollowed aftermath, the state raises no monuments; only corridors: roads wide enough for ore, slurry pipelines through scorched clearings and ghost villages renamed as development zones. Not justice, not reckoning, but a quieter violence: once-defiant land, stripped and rendered measurable, mute, and mined. Deadlines, after all, are bureaucratic comforts. Revolutions no longer storm palaces. They dig in, like roots refusing the axe. Forests don't recognise deadlines. Grievances don't expire on cue. The revolution will not end with surrender, but with deletion. History will be filed, sealed and lost, not to forgetfulness, but to instruction. Somewhere in the red dust of Bastar, a child still learns to distinguish between the sound of thunder and the drone of a Heron. The state calls this progress. The land remembers it as a deadline, counting backward from erasure. Somewhere, a mother buries a son with no certificate. Somewhere, someone will whisper the old songs again, quietly, under breath. Not in hope, but in refusal. Refusal is not an act of power. It is the quiet breath of those who have nowhere left to go. The Left has faded. Not vanished. And perhaps, in some future footnote, written in the margins of another state's silence, Orwell will nod, not at ideology, but at the stubborn breath of the unnamed. Shyam Tekwani is a professor and columnist specialising in security affairs. The views expressed in this article are those of the author. The Wire is now on WhatsApp. Follow our channel for sharp analysis and opinions on the latest developments.


India Today
02-06-2025
- Politics
- India Today
16 Naxals surrender in Chhattisgarh citing 'inhumane' Maoist ideology
Sixteen Naxalites, including six carrying a collective cash reward of Rs 25 lakh, surrendered in Chhattisgarh's Sukma district on Monday, police them, nine cadres belonged to Kerlapenda village panchayat under Chintalanar police station this surrender, the village has become Naxalite-free, making it eligible for development projects of Rs 1 crore as per a new scheme of the state government, an official All 16 cadres, including a woman, turned themselves in before senior police and CRPF officials, here citing disappointment with the "hollow" and "inhuman" Maoist ideology and atrocities by ultras on local tribals, Sukma Superintendent of Police Kiran Chavan cadres were also impressed by the Chhattisgarh government's 'Niyad Nellanar' (your good village) scheme, aimed at facilitating development works in remote villages, and the state's new surrender and rehabilitation policy, he those who surrendered, Rita alias Dodi Sukki (36), a woman who was active as member of the central regional committee (CRC) company number 2 of Maoists, and Rahul Punem (18), a party member within PLGA battalion no. 1 of Maoists, carried a reward of Rs 8 lakh each, he Lekam Lakhma (28) carried a bounty of Rs 3 lakh, while three more cadres carried a reward of Rs 2 lakh each, the official of the surrendered cadres, nine belonged to the Kerlapenda village their surrender, the place has become Naxal-free, the official per the Elvad Panchayat Yojna of the state government, the village will be provided an incentive of Rs 1 crore for development works, he scheme has been introduced under the new Chhattisgarh Naxal Surrender/Victim Relief and Rehabilitation provides for a sanction of development works of Rs 1 crore for those village panchayats which facilitate in the surrender of Naxalites active in their area and to pass a resolution declaring them as is the second such village panchayat in the district to get rid of the Naxal menace after the state government recently introduced the April, Badesatti was declared Naxal-free after all 11 lower-rung Naxalites from there surrendered before the Naxalites who surrendered were provided an assistance of Rs 50,000 each, and will be further rehabilitated as per the government's policy, the SP year, 792 Naxalites surrendered in the state's Bastar region, which comprises seven districts including Reel
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Business Standard
02-06-2025
- Politics
- Business Standard
16 Naxalites surrender in Chhattisgarh, Kerlapenda becomes Maoist-free
With this surrender, the village has become Naxalite-free, making it eligible for development projects of ₹1 crore as per a new scheme of the state government Press Trust of India Sukma Sixteen Naxalites, including six carrying a collective cash reward of ₹25 lakh, surrendered in Chhattisgarh's Sukma district on Monday, police said. Of them, nine cadres belonged to Kerlapenda village panchayat under Chintalanar police station limits. With this surrender, the village has become Naxalite-free, making it eligible for development projects of ₹1 crore as per a new scheme of the state government, an official said. All 16 cadres, including a woman, turned themselves in before senior police and CRPF officials, here citing disappointment with the "hollow" and "inhuman" Maoist ideology and atrocities by ultras on local tribals, Sukma Superintendent of Police Kiran Chavan said. The cadres were also impressed by the Chhattisgarh government's 'Niyad Nellanar' (your good village) scheme, aimed at facilitating development works in remote villages, and the state's new surrender and rehabilitation policy, he said. Among those who surrendered, Rita alias Dodi Sukki (36), a woman who was active as member of the central regional committee (CRC) company number 2 of Maoists, and Rahul Punem (18), a party member within PLGA battalion no. 1 of Maoists, carried a reward of Rs 8 lakh each, he said. Besides, Lekam Lakhma (28) carried a bounty of ₹3 lakh, while three more cadres carried a reward of Rs 2 lakh each, the official said. Out of the surrendered cadres, nine belonged to the Kerlapenda village panchayat. With their surrender, the place has become Naxal-free, the official said. As per the Elvad Panchayat Yojna of the state government, the village will be provided an incentive of Rs 1 crore for development works, he said. The scheme has been introduced under the new Chhattisgarh Naxal Surrender/Victim Relief and Rehabilitation Policy-2025. It provides for a sanction of development works of Rs 1 crore for those village panchayats which facilitate in the surrender of Naxalites active in their area and to pass a resolution declaring them as Maoist-free. This is the second such village panchayat in the district to get rid of the Naxal menace after the state government recently introduced the scheme. In April, Badesatti was declared Naxal-free after all 11 lower-rung Naxalites from there surrendered before police. All the Naxalites who surrendered were provided an assistance of Rs 50,000 each, and will be further rehabilitated as per the government's policy, the SP said. Last year, 792 Naxalites surrendered in the state's Bastar region, which comprises seven districts including Sukma. (Only the headline and picture of this report may have been reworked by the Business Standard staff; the rest of the content is auto-generated from a syndicated feed.)


Deccan Herald
22-05-2025
- Politics
- Deccan Herald
A telling blow to armed insurgency
The killing of CPI (Maoist) general secretary Nambala Keshava Rao, alias Basavaraju, marks a decisive moment in the union government's renewed initiative to eliminate left wing insurgency in the country. The security forces' offensive in Narayanpur in Chhattisgarh has left 27 members of the outlawed group, including Rao, dead. This is the first time in three decades that a Maoist of a general secretary rank has been eliminated. For the forces, the neutralisation of such a high-ranking leader comes as a decisive boost to their ongoing counter-insurgency action. Rao was involved in deadly Maoist strikes including the 2010 Dantewada attack that killed 76 CRPF personnel. Union Home Minister Amit Shah announced that after the completion of Operation Black Forest, 54 Naxalites have been arrested and 84 have surrendered in Chhattisgarh, Telangana, and government estimates that between 2004 and 2025, left wing extremism has claimed 8,895 lives in the country. Dubbed India's biggest crackdown on left wing extremism, the current operation is integral to the government's objective to make India Naxalite-free by March 2026. The government's stated approach to address insurgency in the affected regions has been three-pronged: intensified security operations, accelerated development initiatives, and strategic surrender-rehabilitation programmes. Since January 2024, more than 350 Maoists are estimated to have been killed in Chhattisgarh, in a coordinated Centre-state offensive. Some of the senior Maoist leaders are believed to have escaped but the operation has dealt a severe blow to the the forces closed in on the Karregutta Hills along the Telangana-Chhattisgarh border, the Maoists were cornered in what had, so far, been a safe hideout. The forces recently killed 31 insurgents in a 21-day operation in the hills. With its top leader killed and cadre base scattered, the Maoist movement is facing one of its worst organisational crises – a quick regrouping appears unlikely. Though the insurgents have recently made appeals for peace talks, formal negotiations with the Central and state governments are uncertain. It remains to be seen if the second-tier leadership will keep the armed struggle alive in their remaining bases in central India or take the option to surrender. There should be a concerted effort to identify and address social and systemic inadequacies that also feed extremist ideologies. The government, while responding efficiently to the security situation, must work towards ensuring two key imperatives – all-round development in the insurgency-affected regions and a viable rehabilitation model that can help the surrendered extremists reintegrate with society.