Vanishing rebels, voiceless tribals

The killing of CPI (Maoist) general secretary Nambala Keshavrao, also known as Basavaraju, by security forces on 21 May in the dense forests of Abujhmad in Bastar marks a symbolic full circle for the Maoist movement in India. After nearly 60 years of rebellion, the movement born in a village in West Bengal, shaped in Andhra Pradesh and hardened in the forests of Chhattisgarh, appeared to be collapsing.

It represents a significant setback for the Naxalite insurgency, which began as a peasant uprising in Naxalbari, Darjeeling, in May 1967. So decisive is this blow that many are viewing it as the endgame of Maoism in India. Security forces are calling it a historic victory.

Over the past 18 months, numerous Maoists have been killed in counter-insurgency operations across the border regions of Telangana and Chhattisgarh — particularly in Bijapur, Narayanpur, and Sukma — as well as in Maharashtra’s Gadchiroli district and nearby areas.

Videos showing District Reserve Guard (DRG) personnel celebrating and dancing after the killing of Basavaraju have gone viral. Formed in 2008, the DRG — a local force made up largely of surrendered Maoists and local youth — has been gaining attention for its role in the recent operations.

In November last year, shortly after the BJP came to power in Chhattisgarh, deputy chief minister Vijay Sharma proposed a rehabilitation policy for surrendered Maoists. However, within a year, the tone has changed dramatically. Union home minister Amit Shah has now declared that Maoism will be eradicated from India by March 2026.

On 22 April, the same day that terrorists targeted tourists in Pahalgam, security forces were involved in a major offensive against Maoists in the Karreguta hills — a rugged region spanning 20 to 25 km along the Chhattisgarh–Telangana border. Operation Kagar lasted around 21 days. In its aftermath, senior officials of the CRPF and Chhattisgarh Police announced at a press conference that 31 Maoists had been killed.

Operation Kagar also triggered an unprecedented response: the Maoists issued at least five letters appealing for peace talks. These appeals reveal the fragile state of a movement that, just 20 years back, had been termed the “biggest internal security threat” to India by then Prime Minister Manmohan Singh.

The Centre officially categorised the Maoist insurgency under the term Left Wing Extremism (LWE) and the home ministry even established a dedicated LWE Division in 2006. According to its records, 38 districts across India remain affected by LWE — though the number of severely impacted districts has dropped from 12 to just six. These are: Bijapur, Kanker, Narayanpur, and Sukma in Chhattisgarh; West Singhbhum in Jharkhand; and Gadchiroli in Maharashtra.

Following the recent operations — particularly the elimination of Basavaraju — the insurgency appears to be at its weakest. Veteran Bastar-based journalist Suresh Mahapatra observes, “The Maoists now face only two choices: continue a fight that leads to their annihilation, or surrender.” He adds that not long ago, even journalists, let alone security forces, could not enter Pujari Kanker — just 60–70 km from the Karreguta hills.

But is this truly the end of Maoism in India? Or could the movement regroup and revive once again?

Bastar-based social activist Soni Sori, a survivor of State oppression, offers a sceptical view. “The Central and state governments claim that Maoism is coming to an end,” she says. “But killing one leader will not kill the idea of Maoism.” She accuses the State of using overwhelming force, alleging, “To kill one top Maoist leader, 15 to 20 tribals are being killed. Why doesn’t the government admit that both Maoists and tribal people are being eliminated?”

In the early days, the Maoists won the trust of tribal communities by demanding fair wages for tendu leaf collectors, by helping people stand up to forest officers and by speaking the local language. But they also brought with them fear, punishment and the belief that violence could deliver justice.

Still, that trust never translated into acceptance of the Maoist ideology that glorifies violence as a means to power.

This quiet resistance is most visible during elections, when rare but powerful images emerge: tribals walking miles through dense forests, crossing rivers and navigating hills, to cast their votes — defying Maoist calls to boycott the polls. Sori poses a vital question: “Maoists may be vanishing, but will the tribals’ struggle in Bastar come to an end?” She points to the real issue: the government’s relentless push for mining. “If tribals choose democratic means to protest, will the government hear them? When companies like Adani or Jindal arrive, and tribals resist, will the government not act against them too?”

Sori says Bastar is currently caught in a three-way conflict: the government, the Maoists and the tribals — all engaged in distinct but overlapping struggles.

Former Member of Parliament Arvind Netam, who served as a minister in the Indira Gandhi and Narasimha Rao governments, shares Sori’s concerns. He views the current phase with scepticism. “Maoism is not just a rebellion, it’s an ideology. No one can predict when or how such an ideology might resurface,” he warns.

Netam challenges the very definition of development. “For the government and many others, development seems to mean large-scale mining and industrialisation. But has anyone ever asked the tribals what they see as development?”

He acknowledges that the State’s offensive has significantly weakened the Maoists, but asks a deeper question: what do the tribals gain from all this? What happens to the people who were never truly part of the fight, but were always caught in the middle?

According to one report, of the 51 mining leases across Bastar’s seven districts, 36 have been allotted to private companies. The region holds 19 per cent of the country’s iron ore reserves, including the renowned Bailadila mines, considered among the best in Asia.

In a statement issued after Basavaraju’s death, Vikalpa, spokesperson for the CPI (Maoist)’s Dandakaranya Special Zonal Committee claimed that several Maoists, including those responsible for Basavaraju’s security, surrendered under pressure and joined the DRG. He also alleged that Basavaraju and his associates were captured alive and later executed by the security forces.

These allegations sparked outrage among Left parties. The CPI, CPM and CPI (ML) issued separate statements questioning the legitimacy of the encounter in Abujhmad and demanded that the government resume dialogue with the Maoists. The Coordination Committee on Peace also issued a statement alleging serious human rights violations in these operations. It raised concerns over the handling of the bodies of Basavaraju and other Maoists killed on 21 May.

Despite assurances made by the advocate-general of Chhattisgarh before the Andhra Pradesh High Court that the bodies would be handed over to the families after post-mortem, the police cremated eight Maoists, including Basavaraju, under tight security in Narayanpur.

Maoism may fade, but resentment lingers. A generation of young tribals sees their forests shrinking, their voices ignored and their protests criminalised. If democracy does not give them a voice, something else eventually will.

The State believes it has won a war. But wars don’t end with gunshots; they end when justice takes root. And that hasn’t happened in Bastar — not yet. So the next time we celebrate the ‘end’ of Maoism, let’s ask a harder question: is it peace, if the people most affected still feel invisible?