Kerala’s communist debacle going to be far more devastating than Bengal’s

K Raveendran

In the tumultuous realm of Indian politics, few narratives are as gripping and revealing as the rise and fall of communist parties. Among these, the travails of the Communist Party of India (Marxist), or CPI-M, in Kerala and Bengal offer a compelling study in contrasts – one marked by systemic decay, moral erosion, and the predictable consequences of hubris.

The saga begins in West Bengal, where the CPI-M once wielded unchallenged authority for over three decades. Under their stewardship, the government was not just an administrative entity but an extension of the party itself. Party cadres reigned supreme, with access to the perks and privileges of state resources treated as their birthright. But the CPI-M’s reign in Bengal was not tainted by the overt corruption of its leaders; rather, it was a well-oiled machinery of patronage where loyalty to the party equated to economic and social benefits.

In Kerala, however, the communist narrative has taken a darker turn – a double-edged sword of malfeasance and dynastic entitlement. Here, the CPI-M’s grip on power did not translate into merely doling out favours to party loyalists. It became a cesspool of corruption, with allegations of nepotism and graft swirling around the highest echelons of power. Unlike Bengal, where the state machinery was subservient to party interests but not directly plundered by its leaders, Kerala’s tragedy unfolds with an added layer of moral bankruptcy and institutional abuse.

The CPI-M in Kerala finds itself entangled in a web of scandals involving the Chief Minister’s own family members and close associates. The very ideals of communism – equality, justice, and transparency – have been sacrificed at the altar of personal enrichment and unchecked power. The once-revered symbol of resistance against capitalist exploitation has become a caricature of itself, embroiled in sordid tales of kickbacks, illicit deals, and criminal enterprises.

What distinguishes the CPI-M’s demise in Kerala from its ebbing in Bengal is not just the scale but the nature of corruption. In Bengal, the rot was systemic, institutionalized through a system of cadre-based governance. In Kerala, it mutated into a grotesque spectacle of moral degradation and abuse of the rule of law, where leaders who once espoused Marxist principles shamelessly indulged in cronyism and nepotism. The party apparatus, instead of serving the people, has been hijacked to shield and justify these nefarious activities.
The consequences are going to be dire. Where Bengal witnessed a gradual erosion of voter trust and eventual electoral defeat, Kerala faced a far steeper precipice. The electorate, long weary of the CPI-M’s hollow promises and moral bankruptcy, began to look elsewhere for leadership. Unlike Bengal, where the CPI-M was gradually edged out by a resurgent opposition, Kerala’s debacle unfolds amid a backdrop of escalating criminality and administrative paralysis.

The parallels between the CPI-M’s fate in Bengal and Kerala are stark yet instructive. Both states were laboratories of communist governance, each revealing different facets of the party’s moral compass and administrative competence. Bengal showcased the perils of unchecked power and ideological rigidity, where the CPI-M’s hegemony eventually crumbled under the weight of its own complacency. Kerala, on the other hand, serves as a cautionary tale of how corruption, when intertwined with familial entitlement, can unravel even the most entrenched political dynamics.

The CPI-M’s trajectory in Kerala, marred by scandals and ethical lapses, underscores a fundamental truth about political governance: power, when divorced from accountability and ethical considerations, is a potent recipe for self-destruction. The party’s descent into infamy is not merely a consequence of external political manoeuvres or economic shifts, but a self-inflicted wound exacerbated by a failure to uphold the very ideals it professed to champion.

Moreover, Kerala’s experience with the CPI-M reveals a broader malaise within India’s political landscape – the pervasive erosion of public trust in institutions and leaders entrusted with safeguarding the public good. The disillusionment with traditional political parties, exacerbated by revelations of corruption and moral decay, has created fertile ground for alternative narratives and emerging political movements.

Chief minister Pinarayi Vijayan, whose stranglehold of the party is unprecedented, is blinded by his obsession with power and the pursuit of familial entitlement. He has refused to acknowledge the rout suffered by the party in the recent Lok Sabha elections, asserting that the results were an expression of disapproval for the Modi government and that the gains of the opposition UDF are merely coincidental. There are humble voices of disagreement, but these have come too late in the day for any impact.

Kerala’s communist tragedy is waiting to be unfolded at a grander scale, irrespective of the great achievements of the movement, its ideological fervour or the historical precedent. There is no doubt that history will assign Pinarayi Vijayan the dubious honour of presiding over the liquidation of a movement which had a glorious past. The stark lesson is that political stewardship devoid of integrity and accountability is unsustainable in the long run.