Echoes of Red in a Sea of Saffron

In the summer of 1967, a village in the North of Bengal, named Naxalbari, erupted into the red flames of revolt. Naxalbari, just like any other village in India, had been free from British rule for almost two decades; however, the colonial-era land laws still shackled its residents. The laws were such that 60% of the population was landless, and the lion’s share of the land was owned only by the richest 4%. It is no surprise, then, that this small village became the epicentre of not only the armed struggle against the government, but also for the establishment of rights for the poorest of the poor. This struggle serves as a striking reminder of a time when the Indian Left was not just an ideology, but a mass movement. [1] 

Naxalbari // Communist Party of India (Marxist-Leninist) Liberation

Fast-forward to today, the bold voices of the Left have been reduced to mere echoes. The shift to Hindu nationalism, under the leadership of Prime Minister Narendra Modi, has marked an increasing rate of attacks on minorities as well as a decline in democratic principles. Amidst this shift, the Indian Left has found itself to be fragmented, intellectually rich but politically weak. Internal divisions, ideological rigidity, and an inability to adapt to changing political dynamics only further this issue. The left may wield the moral authority in civil society, but it fails to translate that into any tangible results, such as electoral success. This then begs the question: Can the Left overcome its divisions to mount a unified resistance, or will it continue to operate in disunion, unable to counter the rising political tide of the Right? 

The Rising Waves of the Right 

Once the largest democracy in the world, India now seems to be far from its democratic roots. However, this shift isn’t sudden, and can be traced back to 1925 to the formation of the RSS, an organisation with an explicitly Hindu majoritarianism centre. The RSS had always felt alienated from the Congress Party and its anti-colonial nationalism. The Congress tried to create a unified ideology for a country that was as large and diverse as Europe. The Congress Party's nationalism argued that the Congress represents the Indian nation because it represents its diversity. Mukul Kesavan, an essayist and historian, calls this a sort of “Zoological Nationalism”, where India is seen as a human jungle and the Congress Party its representative zoo. [2]

It's exactly this type of pluralistic nationalism that the RSS and Hindu-majoritarian movements detested. These groups modelled themselves after a kind of conservative, mid-European nationalism, drawing inspiration from Italian and German Fascism. Despite its appeal to the Hindu majority, the Right-Wing parties of India did not have a significant electoral presence until the 1980s. The BJP itself was a minor player, rooting itself in the Jan Sangh and RSS. [3]

However, a shift was noticed in the 1990s, with the demolition of the Babri Masjid in 1992. The demolition, carried out by a mob aligned with Modi’s political party, marked India’s decisive break with secularism as a semi-official state ideology. This was not just an act of religious violence, but it was the beginning of a long campaign to centre Hindu identity in the national consciousness. Furthermore, the ascent of Narendra Modi to the political landscape marked a turning point in Indian politics, generally for the worse. For instance, when Modi became the chief minister of his home state of Gujarat, this moment was soon followed by several anti-Muslim riots, claiming the lives of at least a thousand innocent individuals. [4]

Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi at the opening of the Ram Mandir in Ayodhya, India // Associated Press

Despite the controversies, Modi’s image only flourished. In 2014, he led the BJP to a historic win, securing a majority in the Lok Sabha, something not accomplished by any party in three decades. Modi’s leadership style, rooted in nationalist narratives, appealed to the newer generation of voters. What once was a peripheral ideology came to the centre of political discourse. As aptly noted by the Associated Press, "Hindu nationalism, once a fringe ideology in India, is now mainstream. Nobody has done more to advance this cause than Prime Minister Narendra Modi, one of India’s most beloved and polarising political leaders". [5]

This rise of the Right has had profound implications, particularly for the minorities of India. For instance, the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA) enacted in 2019 introduces a religious criterion for citizenship, undermining India’s secular foundation and marginalising the minority Muslim population [5]. Additionally, the revocation of Article 370 represented an attempt to alter the region’s demographic composition, suppress dissent, and align with a broader majoritarian agenda [6]. 

The BJP's consolidation of power has been strategic in every aspect. Beyond electoral victories, the party, in collaboration with the RSS, has focused on grassroots mobilisation campaigns, such as the "Gaon Chalo Abhiyan". While the initiatives aim to strengthen the party's presence in rural areas, the digital campaigns target the youth and urban populations. This comprehensive approach not only expands the BJP's voter base but also entrenches its ideology into various demographics. [7]

The BJP's approach isn’t just strategic, it is effective. In a rather stark contrast, the leftist parties struggle to even maintain their relevance. The challenges aren’t just limited to electoral success, but extend to the problem of ideological propagation. The left simply fails to present a compelling narrative in an era where nationalism and religious identities are considered central. [8]

Cultural Leftism: A Fragmented Front 

Art and culture have always been deeply intertwined with leftist movements. Leftist artists have often used their art to champion progressive ideals and challenge societal norms. From street theatre groups like the Indian People’s Theatre Association (IPTA) [9] to contemporary collectives such as Kabir Kala Manch [10], these cultural entities have often advocated and represented marginalised communities. However, in recent years, the cultural left has become increasingly fragmented, struggling to maintain a cohesive front in the face of the rising right-wing nationalism. Internal disagreements, different intersectional priorities, and diverging political strategies are often the cause of the division in these movements.

Kabir Kala Manch // Gulf News

This lack of cohesion has only been further amplified by external pressures, including censorship and political suppression. More notably, cultural activists and organisations have faced increased scrutiny and crackdowns, with reports highlighting the government's efforts to suppress dissenting voices within civil society. Universities and colleges, once the site of intellectual discussions and dissent, have now become the sites of silence. Faculty members critical of government policy, especially those engaging in feminist, anti-caste, or anti-authoritarian rhetoric, are now increasingly facing administrative consequences. Punitive measures have been noted in well-reputed universities such as JNU, where pensions are denied and chargesheets are issued against dissenting faculty. [11]. 

In addition to the institutional silencing, the cultural left faces internal ideological divisions that hinder unified action. While some factions emphasise class struggle and economic justice, others focus on identity politics and social reforms, leading to divided agendas. These voices also fail to resonate beyond elite institutions, distancing themselves from the common working-class man. As a result, the cultural Left finds itself increasingly performing to the converted while the rural heartland, where the battles for India’s ideological soul are fought, remains out of reach. Without bridging this gap between narrative power and grassroots presence, the cultural Left risks becoming a conscience without a consequence. [12]

Lost Voices of the Economic Left

Once an omnipresent force in Indian Politics, the Communist Party of India (Marxist) has been reduced to a secondary space in the Indian political scenario. The 2019 Lok Sabha Election and the 2021 Assembly Elections diminished the Left alliance and its two dominant parties, the Communist Party of India (Marxist) (CPI (M)) and the Communist Party of India (CPI), to a fraction of their former presence. The CPI (M) ruled Bengal from 1977 to 2011 but failed to even win a single seat in the state in 2021. The party struggles to maintain its relevance in the current political climate, but additionally, its role in shaping economic discourse has also diminished. [13]

One moment in particular that contributed to this significant downturn was the economic liberalisation of India in 1991 [14]. This shift towards neoliberal politics marked a departure from the socialist principles that the CPI(M) so deeply believed in. As the Indian labour landscape transformed, the post-liberalisation era saw a boom in informal work, gig jobs, and contractual employment that traditional unions failed to organise. Once potent trade union bodies, such as INTUC, AITUC, and CITU, became increasingly irrelevant amid the rise of a fragmented, digitally driven economy. The cachet of class politics eroded in urban India, as younger generations bought into aspirational consumerism rather than collective bargaining [15].

Manmohan Singh, before presenting the 1991 Budget // India Today

Furthermore, the flashpoints of Singur (2006) and Nandigram (2007), where the Left government sought to forcibly acquire farmland for private industry, broke the party's relationship with the peasantry. The Left, ironically, found itself behaving like the very capitalist entities it once opposed. These events fractured its credibility and opened the door for the rise of Mamata Banerjee’s Trinamool Congress in Bengal. [16]

Nonetheless, the CPI(M) continues to advocate for economic justice and the rights of marginalised communities. However, without significant organisational and ideological reforms, the party's ability to influence national policy and public discourse remains limited. Economic justice remains urgent, but the old guard lacks strategy or any sense of relevance to enact it. 

Grassroots Movements: The Pillars of Resistance 

In the rich tapestry of India’s socio-political environment, grassroots movements have emerged as the true pillars of leftist ideals. While traditional leftist parties concern themselves with electoral setbacks and ideological stagnation, these movements surge ahead, embodying the essence of the Left. 

One such movement was the Bhim Army in Uttar Pradesh. Founded by Chandrashekhar Azad, the Bhim Army has redefined Dalit activism by combining grassroots mobilisation with a robust digital presence. The movement challenges caste hierarchies and advocates for Dalit rights. This approach, distinct from traditional Dalit parties, emphasises direct action and community empowerment and resonates with a younger, more assertive generation. [17]

Similarly, the Shaheen Bagh protests of 2019-2020 marked a pivotal moment in the history of protests in India. Predominantly led by Muslim women, this sit-in became a symbol of peaceful resistance against the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA) and the National Register of Citizens (NRC). Despite the harsh winters in which these protests took place, these women transformed their localities into a hub of democratic discourse, challenging patriarchal and majoritarian narratives. [18]

The women of Shaheen Bagh launched what became a call for revolution and azaadi.  // The Hindu

Yet another movement that made headlines was the Farmers’ Protest of 2020-2021. These protests showcased an unprecedented unity among diverse farming communities across India. Farmers from Punjab, Haryana, and Uttar Pradesh converged on Delhi’s borders to protest controversial laws. Their resilience, marked by solidarity and a strong sense of community, eventually led to the government’s decision to withdraw the laws, signifying a moment where collective action overcame capitalistic agendas. [19]

However, as successful as these movements might have been, issues of maintaining sustainability persist. Due to a lack of formal political structures, many associations dissolve post-victory, leading to an inability to channel this momentum into long-term changes. Though the decentralised nature of these protests fosters inclusivity, it sometimes hinders strategic planning and broader outreach. The spirit of the left may thrive in these movements, but not where the strategies do.

Many Lefts, But No Direction 

There was a time when the unity of the Left was a dream whispered through protest songs and student union manifestos. Marxists, Ambedkarites, feminists, and environmentalists all marched under a common umbrella of resistance. Today, that vision lies in ruins. What remains instead is a fragmented collection of isolated ideologies. Critical of each other, disconnected from the masses, and increasingly irrelevant in electoral politics, the Left cannot find for itself a common direction. 

The ideological divisions aren’t just petty disagreements, they are differences in foundational beliefs. For instance, the Marxists primarily focus their attention on class struggle, while Ambedkarites prioritise caste annihilation. Feminists challenge the patriarchy, and environmentalists reject the industrial paradigm entirely. Each of these groups focuses on a different strand of society, but with the absence of synthesis, they risk extinction. India’s Left today suffers from “multiple sub-Lefts”, none strong enough to stand alone, yet all too proud to stand together.

Historically, the Indian Left did have moments of unity, but also betrayal. The 1964 split between the CPI and CPI(M) was one such turning point. It set the precedent for ideological rigidity taking priority over collective strategy. Decades after this incident, a similar contradiction was seen in electoral politics. CPI(M)’s alliance with the Congress in West Bengal and Kerala blurred ideological lines in a collective hope of defeating the BJP or other regional rivals. However, what it exposed was the Left’s inability to develop successful political campaigns of its own. Though these alliances increased the chances of the Left’s electoral success, they diluted their vision and alienated both loyal followers and newer progressive constituencies.  [20]

This instance also highlighted how there is a clear absence of proper left-wing politics in India. The CPI(M) is now limited to Kerala, and even there, its hold is fragile. CPI barely registers in national politics. Parties like the Aam Aadmi Party (AAP), which flirt with leftist social welfare policies, shy away from identifying as Left. Most self-proclaimed socialist outfits have shifted towards the centre, trying to balance populism and pragmatism without committing to a specific ideology. [21]

Furthermore, the disconnect between institutional Left parties and grassroots movements is bigger than ever. From Shaheen Bagh to the Farmer’s Protest, it is the activists, the students, and the average working-class persons who lead the fight, not mainstream Left parties. This dissonance is further amplified by the rise of a digital Left, active on social media, campus, and alt-news spaces, but absent in real life. This divide of urban vs. rural, English-speaking vs. vernacular, digital vs. grassroots, has rendered the Left both elite and inaccessible. 

The BJP, on the other hand, isn’t only available to the rural communities but also caters towards them. It speaks the common language of aspiration, nationalism, and recognition. Simple things, such as welfare schemes, are framed not as redistribution but as gifts from a benevolent state, tapping into gratitude rather than entitlement. This narrative has found a larger audience than abstract appeals to class solidarity or critiques of capitalism. [22]

In the end, the Left’s greatest strength, its diversity of thought, may also be its biggest weakness. Without a unifying vision that can bridge caste, class, gender, and environmental justice, and without a strategy that acknowledges the changing aspirations of a new India, the Left will remain where it currently is, with no growth in sight. 

Conclusion 

India is now one of the most unequal countries globally, and for this, the Left has neither a compelling narrative nor a unified strategy. Instead, fragmented by infighting, nostalgic about a bygone era, and increasingly alienated from both the urban middle class and the rural poor, the economic Left resembles a disbanded orchestra trying to perform in a digital age. The Left must radically reimagine its role and unite its ideologies and digital fluency. It must learn to speak the language of the masses and cater to those willing to listen. Unless the Left manages to restructure itself, it risks becoming an ideological museum relic: intellectually rigorous, historically significant, but politically irrelevant.

Article by:

Zertab Urooj

PES MUN Society