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On this split, which occurred in 1966,
I questioned Namboodiripad, prime minister of Kerala,
and a Left Communist.
"The split was caused by the issue of our internal policies.
Some wanted to collaborate with the Congress Party,
the party currently in power in New Delhi.
We split with them."
However, I'd heard that Indian Communists
were divided into two camps: Pro-Russian and pro-Chinese.
Jyoti Basu, general secretary of the Left Communist Party in Bengal,
rejects this explanation.
"I don't think ideological differences
in the international Communist movement
caused our split.
That explanation serves as anti-Communist propaganda."
Mrs. Gouri Thomas, food minister in Kerala,
is a picturesque example of the split.
She's a Left Communist,
while her husband, T. V. Thomas, a minister in the same government,
is a Right Communist.
Apparently it doesn't stop them from forming a solid couple.
The Communists aren't the only ones in power in Kerala.
Namboodiripad heads a coalition of ministers
that includes Marxists and non-Marxists.
So he often has to compromise.
"The various parties of the coalition have agreed on a basic program
to try to solve the most urgent problems of Kerala.
For the moment we've abandoned the revolutionary objectives of our party."
Mohammad Koya illustrates the paradox of this coalition.
He belongs to the Muslim League,
which represents the Muslim minority in the north of Kerala.
The League was previously allied with the Congress Party.
Today, Koya is minister of education in the Namboodiripad government,
but ideologically he shares no common ground with the Communists.
After the 1967 elections,
nine of the 17 major states in India were led by coalitions like this one.
The only thing uniting them is their common enemy, the Congress Party,
which has dominated Indian politics since independence,
the party of Gandhi and Nehru,
today weakened and divided, but still very powerful.
These anti-Congress coalitions are too eclectic
and have met with varying success.
They can contain both extreme right-wing parties and Communists.
This is justified by tactical considerations.
"We must take part in Parliament and participate in elections,
but at the same time we must enlarge our extra-parliamentary activities."
Sunday, April 15.
A large Communist demonstration in Trivandrum, Kerala's capital.
100,000 peasants, trucked into the capital, gather in the rain
and parade with impressive orderliness.
The demonstration has two contradictory aims:
On one hand, to support Namboodiripad and his government -
it's practically an official parade, supported by the government -
but on the other hand, slogans demand real agricultural reform.
But revolutionary action isn't currently on the government's agenda,
and only the Communists support it.
The contradictions go even further:
Prime Minister Namboodiripad tries by every means
to attract new industry to Kerala.
To calm nervous capitalists, he must guarantee social stability.
But Communist Party leader Namboodiripad can't fight
the strikes and union actions.
"I don't think we can achieve our goals
in the framework of parliamentary democracy.
The day will come when village peasants must organize themselves
and collaborate with the urban proletariat.
This communal action is the only way things will change."
Gopal speaks in the future tense.
But when I see thousands of peasants demonstrating in perfect ranks,
I tell myself the great day is drawing near.
A Maoist-style revolution seems inevitable,
but I know that Kerala is an exception.
In general, the Indian peasant class is barely politicized.
However, there are farmers'revolts on a local scale.
One of these, in 1967 in Naxalbari in northern Bengal,
caused quite a stir among Left Communists.
"It was really a big peasant movement, no doubt,
but we feel this movement was sidetracked by certain of our comrades,
who now call themselves Naxalites.
We threw them out of the party
because we consider them to be adventurers,
smooth talkers who don't truly represent the peasant population.
They would have led our movement into disaster."
His words remind me of something.
Indian Communists have their leftists too, and they judge them severely.
"You see, the Naxalbari movement could succeed
as long as it limited itself to equal redistribution of land
and remained a movement against landowners.
Unfortunately, the leaders tried to stage an armed insurrection
to seize power.
But in only part of a district, on a purely local level,
it's impossible to take power, even with weapons."
So even though Gopal is a peasant leader,
he doesn't believe a Maoist-style insurrection would ever work.
Mrs. Ranjekar, councilwoman in Bombay, is just as categorical.
"At this time, the Indian people don't feel armed insurrection is the solution.
They have faith in parliamentary democracy, and we must respect that.
The peasants aren't ready for an armed uprising.
It would lead to violent repression.
The party would be outlawed. It wouldn't solve anything.
There's a big difference between India and China.
At the time of the Chinese revolution, China was chiefly agricultural.
It had no industry or railroads,
and the police couldn't intervene in the countryside.
In India today, industry and railroads are highly developed.
Each country has different characteristics,
and it's impossible to predict the form India's revolution will take."
Mrs. Ranjekar's statements surprise me.
To hear that India is highly industrialized,
when I know that four-fifths of the population live in villages,
leads me to believe that the orthodox Communists
don't really want a peasant revolution.
Since my departure, a third Communist party has been created in India.
This one is openly supported by the Chinese,
whose radio brands the Namboodiripad and Basu camps "imperialist lackeys."
This third party, born from the split provoked by the Naxalbari uprising,
is in favor of an immediate armed uprising.
What happened in Vietnam can happen in India.
Of course we stopped and followed the elephant.
Dressed in ceremonial regalia,
it was the holy elephant of a nearby temple celebrating its annual festival.
He goes from house to house, where he's worshipped and then fed.
Here where almost everyone is hungry, each house prepared a bucket of grain.
I'm told this is a Communist village,
but the temple festival isn't celebrated any less fervently.
I remember an announcement I saw in a newspaper in Calcutta:
"Due to the festival for the goddess Saraswati,
meetings of the Left Communist Party
are postponed until next week."
It's easy to see why Indian Communists never attack religion here head-on.
I found the festival sad- a subjective impression, to be sure.
After encountering so many contradictions in India,
all else seemed trivial to me.
The elephant returns to the temple, where the entire village waits.
Young girls wait along the path to the temple,
their faces covered with rice powder.
They're waiting for a minister who promised to attend. A Communist.
He's late.
Village girls with your fixed stares, what are you really waiting for?
I still don't understand.