Communist parties have long held significant influence in Kerala’s political landscape. Through repeated electoral victories, they have shaped welfare, education, and health outcomes in ways that have rightly drawn national and international praise. Yet, beneath this institutional strength lies a question that deserves urgent introspection: how much political consciousness has the movement truly cultivated among the people it represents?
We are taught to absorb dominant narratives—that capitalism is inevitable, that imperialism is distant, and that caste, patriarchy, and religious divisions are unfortunate but immutable. These aren’t just ideas; they are the ideological infrastructure of the status quo. The Left, in theory, exists to challenge them. But in practice, how many Malayalis have truly unlearned these narratives? How many genuinely understand capitalism, not just as an economic system, but as a set of power relations that structure daily life?
This question becomes even more urgent when we consider that even among Communist Party of India (Marxist) or Communist Party of India voters, ideological clarity is often absent. Many support the Left for its governance track record–stable administration, secular values, welfare schemes–rather than any deeper commitment to class politics or structural critique.
The idea of socialism, for many, is reduced to subsidised rice or free housing. It is not grounded in an understanding of labour, alienation, surplus value, or how caste, patriarchy, and communalism are enmeshed with capital.
This isn’t a failure of the people. It is a failure of the movement to fulfil its historic responsibility of political education.
Party classes do exist. But in many cases, they are either too abstract–heavy on theory, light on context–or too disconnected from lived realities. They often fail to equip members with the tools to interpret their world critically, through a working-class lens. They also tend to ignore the social axes of caste and gender, reducing analysis to an economism that no longer resonates with a complex, unequal society. In such a vacuum, it’s no surprise that religious majoritarianism, caste pride, or neoliberal common sense seep in. Without deep political literacy, a society that votes Left can still think Right.
Caste-blindness has had lasting consequences. Much of Indian Marxist analysis has struggled to fully integrate Brahminism into its understanding of material power, often sidelining it as a social issue rather than a structural one. As a result, many oppressed-caste and Adivasi communities have viewed the Communist movement as disconnected from their lived realities.
Similarly, while the Left has spoken in progressive terms about gender, its own party structures remain overwhelmingly male-dominated. Women, especially working class, Dalit, or Muslim, are underrepresented in leadership, often confined to parallel wings or token positions.
A movement cannot claim to challenge patriarchy if it replicates patriarchal norms within its own ranks. Without more inclusive cadre-building and leadership, the movement risks speaking about the oppressed rather than with them.
If the Left is serious about dismantling caste and patriarchy, it must go beyond rhetorical acknowledgment. That means implementing structured representation for Dalits, Adivasis, minorities, and women at every level, from local committees to central leadership.
The idea of affirmative action is enshrined in the Indian Constitution, which the Left holds in high regard. Why shouldn’t it be enshrined in the party programme? Without this, the party risks reproducing the very hierarchies it claims to fight. Representation isn’t symbolic; it’s a necessary condition for building political literacy that speaks to all of India, not just a section of it.
There is also a deeper disconnection with India’s urban imagination. The Communist movement was born in the fields, factories, and unions. But it has struggled to find a political language that speaks to the urban precariat, gig workers, the unemployed youth, or the first-generation salaried class. These are people whose lives are precarious, deeply shaped by neoliberalism—yet they are not seen enough as subjects of class struggle. This has allowed the Right to dominate urban political discourse with narratives of nationalism, communalism, aspiration, and cultural pride, while the Left appears frozen in an outdated idiom.
That leads to a larger image problem, one that the Left cannot dismiss as just media propaganda. Among many young Indians, the Left is seen as self-righteous, jargon-heavy, or simply irrelevant. Its political language often feels disconnected from how people think, speak, or mobilise today.
In the age of memes, reels, and algorithmic persuasion, the party pamphlet is no longer enough. Parties must also embrace new tools–from mobile apps to AI-powered chat interfaces–to reach people where they are, in the languages and formats they consume daily. If the Left is serious about mass political education, it needs to radically rethink how it communicates.
This isn’t just a Kerala problem. Bengal offers a cautionary tale. The Left ruled the state for over three decades, but ideological engagement did not keep pace with electoral dominance. The voter base eventually shifted to a right-wing populist party like the Trinamool Congress, and even worse, to a neo-fascist force like the Bharatiya Janata Party. That reversal speaks to the absence of a durable political consciousness. A movement that fails to reproduce itself in thought will eventually lose, even in places it once ruled comfortably.
Some may argue that these failures are the result of harsh material conditions, limited resources, or relentless right-wing pressure. But material hardship is precisely why consciousness-building matters. If people only support the Left when conditions are good, the movement will collapse under the weight of its own short-termism. Political literacy is not a luxury, it is the only durable defence against ideological capture.
None of this is to dismiss the real victories of India’s Communist parties, from land reform to education to social welfare. But the metric for judging a Communist movement cannot be limited to policy delivery. It must also include the political consciousness it leaves behind. A truly successful movement doesn’t just govern well; it changes how people see the world. It teaches them to question power, not just vote for it.
As India faces deepening inequality, communalism, and corporate capture of public life, the Left has a vital role to play. But that role cannot be fulfilled unless it confronts its own limitations, not just in strategy, but in pedagogy. For the movement to survive, and more importantly, to mean something, it must become what it once aspired to be—a school of politics for the working class, a place where ideology is not memorised, but lived and understood.
Only then can it resist not just defeat at the ballot box, but irrelevance in the minds of those it seeks to represent.
Siddharth tweets at @dearthofsid on X.
Views expressed are the author’s own.