[It's something too basic that "mass work" is pretty much incompatible with
"armed struggle", or to be more specific - "protracted people's war".

If an organisation is (literally) engaged in a "war" against the state, the
state - even the most "democratic", except for an already tumbling one,
would, definitely, come down heavily on that organisation and all those
associated, wherever.
That'd make any meaningful "overground work" or "mass work" (or work among
the "workers") well-nigh impossible.

The "war" has its very own, inescapable, dynamics.
A plain and simple truth, many are too obstinate to acknowledge.

Apart from that, till now, there's only a solitary instance of an "armed
revolution" being successful in a "democracy".
That was way back in November 1917, in Russia.
Even there, it had become a "democracy" only in the preceding February -
just about nine months back, by overthrowing brutal Tsarist autocracy -
through an armed insurrection.
It can, therefore, be plausibly argued that "November" was, in fact, the
continuation of "February", with a brief pause in between.
In any any case, "democracy" appears to be strong antidote to "armed
revolution", though not to a military coup.

《Does D’Mello draw the correct conclusions from the history of the Maoist
movement? In part, yes. On the question of strategy, he rightly criticizes
the Maoists’ overemphasis on armed struggle to the neglect of mass work.
But D’Mello does not go far enough in dealing with the difficult question
of armed struggle. Although he does not state it clearly in his final
chapter “Reimagining New Democracy,” one can gather that the author is of
the view that the armed struggle must continue alongside the development of
democratic activity. Herein lies his weakness: building up strong,
democratic mass movements in any modern society—where the state has an
indisputable monopoly of violence—necessitates open political activity.》]

http://www.essf.lautre.net/2014/spip.php?article51133&fbclid=IwAR1jxiHEPo4gF3vtUr4CfKce3A9_phi9YbPyB3oxmVoLhC7qDhOuWkj5kA0

The Legacy of Maoism in India

Wednesday 20 March 2019, by AGARWAL Samantha

*The success of a counter-hegemonic challenge to Hindu authoritarian rule
in India will require a critical assessment of the successes and failures
of the nation’s left forces, including the Maoist movement. The release of
Bernard D’Mello’s India After Naxalbari could not be better timed.
D’Mello’s tour de force is both a history of modern India and its “rotten
liberal democracy,” including the left’s challenge to it, and a
fine-grained look at India’s Maoist movement. It combines a sharp
historical account with critical analysis, along with some original
theoretical insights.*

The legacy of princely rule and colonialism following independence left the
Indian countryside highly stratified along caste and class lines. D’Mello’s
account begins with the post-World War II peasant uprisings that he views
as the “precursors” to Maoism in India. In their short lifespan these
struggles posed a significant challenge to the power of the former landlord
class, along with overturning some of the most pernicious practices of the
caste system (such as vetti, the caste-based system of bonded labor in
Telangana). The Communist Party of India (CPI) played a leading role in
some of these struggles, most notably those of Telangana (1946–51) and
Tebhaga (1946–47).

While the armed uprisings of this period had already engendered significant
internal divisions within the communist movement, it was not until the
following decades that these contradictions became irreconcilable. While
D’Mello does not go far into the history of the 1964 split, which resulted
in the creation of the Communist Party of India-Marxist (CPI-M), we know
that the dominant current in the party was in favor of a parliamentary path
to power (“national democratic revolution”) through an alliance with the
progressive sections of the Congress Party. By contrast, party dissidents
eschewed the parliamentary path in favor of a “peoples’ democratic
revolution” through mass work led by the workers and peasantry.

The radical rhetoric of the CPI-M was quickly put to the test—once again by
the self-activity of the masses. In March 1967, in the village of Naxalbari
(in West Bengal) a revolutionary Krishak Samiti (peasant organization)
within the CPI-M undertook a political program to abolish landlordism,
including the burning of land records, the looting of food grains, and the
seizing of promissory notes and other legal records related to the debt
peasants had incurred over the years. Armed with bows, arrows, and spears
they formed defense squads and peasant committees, in which women played a
prominent role, in several villages. The movement awakened Indian society
to the “intolerable conditions of economic oppression and social
humiliation” of the poor and landless peasantry (Banerjee).

Meanwhile, the CPI-M, which had for the first time assumed control of the
West Bengal state government through a United Front coalition, quickly
turned against the revolutionary movement and launched a counterinsurgency.
The nascent struggle was no match for the repressive apparatus of the
state. Seventeen people were killed, and hundreds more were arrested. The
leaders of the Naxalbari uprising and many of its supporters were summarily
expelled from the party.

Undeterred, the party rebels went on to form the CPI-ML in 1969 under the
leadership of Charu Mazumdar. What was to follow were a series of
“Naxalbaris” from roughly 1969 to 1975, which, as D’Mello points out, were
fairly heterogenous, including in their level of adherence to the
“annihilation of class enemies” line. Perhaps the most controversial of
these political eruptions was that of Kolkata 1970–71, where party leaders
incited urban youth to destroy all symbols of bourgeois education,
including monuments and statues of nationalist writers and poets, and
relocate to the countryside to join the class war.

It is in his discussion of the CPI-ML (People’s War), formed in 1980 in the
state of Andhra Pradesh as an outgrowth of CPI-ML, that D’Mello provides
the clearest exegesis of the theoretical and strategic considerations of
the early Maoist movement. The People’s War group, following the ideas of
the Chinese Revolution—as formulated by Lin Biao in his 1965
pamphlet—believed that revolution could only be won through a “protracted
peoples’ war” (PPW). The PPW would begin with a “new Democratic stage led
by the workers in a worker-peasant alliance and could only transition to
socialism after taking power at the national level.” This would tactically
be built through the formation of revolutionary bases in the countryside
from which they “can go forward to final victory.”

As it played out, Maoist praxis looked very different from its theory—and
in the first phase of the movement it faced staggering defeat. D’Mello
provides a laundry list of reasons for defeat including the “neglect of
long, hard and patient underground work that should have preceded the
launch of armed struggle,” the neglect of military requirements, the
failure to pursue the “mass line” or to build organization among the urban
proletariat, and the lack of a democratic process in the movement. But
D’Mello seems to understand these outcomes as the result of a failure to
adhere closely enough to the principles of the Chinese Communist Party,
rather than an inherent contradiction in the strategy itself—a major
weakness in D’Mello’s analysis, to which I will return.

During the second “phase” of the Naxalite movement (roughly 1977–2003),
D’Mello suggests that the “mass struggle” line—missing from the first
period—gained greater purchase. As the Emergency was lifted in 1977, mass
organizations affiliated with various offshoots of the Indian Maoist
movement including CPI-ML (PW) in AP and CPI-ML (Liberation) and CPI-ML
(Peoples Unity) in Bihar began to thrive. Notably, SIKASA, whose base
consisted of workers and peasants around the coalfields of Singareni in
Northern Telangana, organized not just on issues of the workplace, but also
on those of the “hearth” (against-slum demolition) and “bread.” Similarly,
MKSSS, part of the CPI-ML (PU), organized Dalit landless laborers against
caste-based exploitation, mostly in the Jehanabad subdivision of Gaya
District.

Yet the promising mass-based activity of this period quickly degenerated as
state reaction and repression intensified. According to D’Mello the “mass
organizations were, in effect . . . driven underground.” Importantly,
during the mass activity phase, underground activities—namely the building
of a guerilla base in the border areas of Chhattisgarh, Andhra Pradesh, and
Orissa continued apace. The tactical retreat to these guerilla areas
beginning in the 1990s intensified during the “third phase,” taking us up
to the present moment. After the 2003 merger of the two largest Maoist
outfits (CPI-PW and MCC) under the umbrella of CPI-Maoist, the movement was
characterized by episodic guerilla attacks and raids met with heavy state
violence. D’Mello displays impressive knowledge of this period of state
repression—which has afflicted not only the Maoists and their supporters,
but also many more civilians who are unaffiliated with the
Maoists—undoubtedly in part thanks to his longstanding participation in
India’s civil liberties and democratic rights movements.

Does D’Mello draw the correct conclusions from the history of the Maoist
movement? In part, yes. On the question of strategy, he rightly criticizes
the Maoists’ overemphasis on armed struggle to the neglect of mass work.
But D’Mello does not go far enough in dealing with the difficult question
of armed struggle. Although he does not state it clearly in his final
chapter “Reimagining New Democracy,” one can gather that the author is of
the view that the armed struggle must continue alongside the development of
democratic activity. Herein lies his weakness: building up strong,
democratic mass movements in any modern society—where the state has an
indisputable monopoly of violence—necessitates open political activity.
This is particularly true of India where the state has for many years been
acting with complete impunity against its “greatest internal security
threat”—the Maoists—and mowing down anyone who comes in its way. The
embrace of violence prior to the construction of a mass base has foreclosed
in many parts of India the possibility of mass-based revolutionary
activity. And, as argued by Kunal Chattopadhyay in his excellent article
“The Path of Naxalbari” (2010), it paves the way for what Trotsky called
“substitutionism”—where the party substitutes itself for the self-activity
of the masses.

D’Mello’s other main critique of the Maoists is also accurate. The Maoists
completely failed to build up the “workers” part of its peasant-worker
unity—in other words, it has no meaningful base among workers in the urban
core. Yet, D’Mello could have gone further and considered how this might be
accomplished in the future. He recognizes that the Indian labor movement is
plagued by the “peculiar differentiation” of the Indian working class along
lines of status (regular/casual), caste, religion, ethnic origins, and
gender, and also by the ever-expanding reserve army of labor. But how might
the Maoists go about bringing together these heterogeneous sections of the
Indian proletariat that often display contradictory interests? Clearly this
would be a central part of climbing out of the current impasse.

Finally, while the author correctly argues that the future of the Maoist
movement must pay more attention to gender, caste, nationality, and
religion, he curiously avoids historicizing the Naxalites’ failure to
systematically take up these “special oppressions.” Here, one would have to
turn to the work of others, such as Krishna Bandyopadhyay (former member of
CPI-ML) who contends that the party never took a stand on gender
liberation, nor did it develop an adequate mechanism to deal with gender
oppression within the party. Rather it peddled the line—common to almost
every left party in India— that “women will automatically become free when
society is liberated.” Likewise, Sujatha Gidla’s recent book, Ants Among
Elephants, illustrates how the Maoists prevented local Dalit leaderships
from taking up the mantle of caste annihilation, and how both casteism and
sexism were deeply engrained in the internal culture and norms of the
party. Grappling with these past blunders is an essential part of building
a new and vibrant left.

These omissions aside, India After Naxalbari is required reading not only
for those with an interest in Maoism, but also for anyone invested in
building a counterforce against India’s neoliberal order and the growing
menace of Hindu authoritarianism.

Samantha Agarwal

P.S.
International Socialist Review

https://isreview.org/issue/112/legacy-maoism-india
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