The Maoist insurgency in India reflects a longstanding tension between state authority and marginalised communities struggling for rights, recognition, and justice. While the government has increasingly relied on security-centric responses to quell the movement, civil society groups and human rights advocates argue that these operations often come at the cost of due process, tribal autonomy, and constitutional protections.
Security forces recently killed seven people linked to the outlawed CPI (Maoist) during a three-day operation in Bijapur district, Chhattisgarh in India. Among those killed were two high-ranking Maoist leaders. Authorities hailed the mission, which occurred deep within Indravati National Park, as a significant milestone in their ongoing anti-insurgency campaign.
Those killed included Narasimha Chalam (alias Sudhakar), a CPI (Maoist) Central Committee member, and Mailarapu Adellu (known as Bhaskar), affiliated with the Special Zonal Committee of the group’s Telangana unit. Authorities had placed bounties of ₹40 lakh and ₹45 lakh on Sudhakar and Bhaskar, respectively.
The incident has drawn strong condemnation from human rights advocates. The Committee for Release of Political Prisoners (CRPP), under the leadership of lawyer Balla Ravindranath, alleged that the killings were staged. Meanwhile, Pichuka Sudhakar from the Indian Association of People’s Lawyers (IAPL) petitioned the Chhattisgarh High Court, requesting that the deceased be preserved for a second autopsy.
On May 21, 2025, security personnel carried out an operation in Narayanpur that resulted in the death of Nambala Keshav Rao, known by his alias Basavaraju, who served as the CPI (Maoist)’s General Secretary and chief strategist. This mission, conducted under “Operation Black Forest,” also claimed the lives of 27 other Maoist members. The incident marked one of the insurgent group’s most significant leadership setbacks to date.
Civil liberties organisations have raised concerns about the toll these operations are taking on local populations. According to Laxman Rao, General Secretary of the Civil Liberties Committee (CLC), Operation Kagar has resulted in 550 Maoist fatalities since January 1, 2024—of which nearly 400 were economically disadvantaged tribal individuals. The CLC contends that beyond targeting insurgents, these efforts are also aimed at weakening tribal opposition to the corporate exploitation of resource-rich land.
Government officials have applauded the recent security gains. Home Minister Amit Shah described the outcomes as a “landmark achievement.” In the aftermath of the encounters, 54 individuals were taken into custody, and 84 surrendered. The central government has reiterated its goal of eliminating Maoist insurgency by March 2026, relying on a combination of military intervention, development initiatives, and efforts to improve engagement with tribal communities.
Terminologies or Branding?
Although often used interchangeably, the terms Maoism, Naxalism, and Left-Wing Extremism (LWE) refer to different aspects of India’s internal conflict. Maoism is rooted in the ideology of Mao Zedong and emphasises rural-based revolution, class conflict, and guerrilla tactics, with peasants viewed as the key drivers of change. In India, Maoist ideas gained ground during the 1967 Naxalbari uprising in West Bengal, which sparked the Naxalite movement—a call for armed resistance to secure land and rights for marginalized farmers and tribal populations.
As the movement evolved, it fragmented into several smaller groups. In 2004, two major factions—the People’s War Group (PWG) and the Maoist Communist Centre (MCC)—joined forces to create the Communist Party of India (Maoist), or CPI (Maoist), which became the primary group leading the armed insurgency. The Indian state refers to such organisations under the umbrella of Left-Wing Extremism (LWE), a term used in security and policy circles to describe insurgent movements that challenge government authority, particularly in forested and tribal-dominated areas of central and eastern India.
A newer, contentious label—‘Urban Naxal’—has surfaced in recent public debates. Though lacking academic legitimacy, it is frequently employed in political discussions to describe scholars, students, legal advocates, or activists critical of government actions. Critics claim the term is weaponised to undermine dissent and discredit those advocating for social equity, tribal empowerment, or civil freedoms.
Historical Roots and Shifting Strategy
The Maoist insurgency in India began with the formation of the Communist Party of India (Marxist-Leninist) or CPI(ML). It was founded by Charu Mazumdar and Kanu Sanyal in the late 1960s. Their goal was to launch an armed revolution against the Indian state, inspired by Mao Zedong’s ideas.
Between the 1970s and 1990s, internal divisions caused the movement to splinter into numerous smaller factions. These groups operated largely underground and established strongholds in rural and tribal belts across states like Andhra Pradesh, Bihar, Odisha, and Chhattisgarh, where they mobilized local communities around land and livelihood issues.
In 2004, a significant realignment occurred when the two largest Maoist outfits—the People’s War Group and the Maoist Communist Centre—combined forces to form the Communist Party of India (Maoist). Following this unification, the newly formed party established its armed wing, the People’s Liberation Guerrilla Army (PLGA), with the goal of extending their operations across the central tribal regions of India, an area often labelled the “Red Corridor.”
Between 2004 and March 2025, nearly 8,900 individuals lost their lives due to violence linked to Left-Wing Extremism. A troubling share of the victims were tribal civilians. Despite Maoist claims of championing tribal rights, many villagers suspected of collaborating with authorities were abducted or executed, contributing to a climate of fear in Maoist-controlled zones.
Rather than uplifting the marginalised, the insurgency has frequently mirrored the oppressive tactics it seeks to overthrow—employing coercion and violence. Over time, both local communities and state forces have paid a heavy price for this ongoing conflict.
Before the year 2000, the Indian government’s response to the Maoist problem was inconsistent. Some states used police force and tough laws, while others tried small reforms. There was no clear national strategy. In the early 2000s, states like Andhra Pradesh even tried peace talks with Maoist leaders. But these negotiations failed after police encounters resumed, leading to distrust.
In some cases, state authorities supported vigilante groups, which blurred the line between law enforcement and human rights. Meanwhile, the central government allowed each state to handle the issue on its own, without a coordinated national plan.
This started to change after 2004, when Maoist activities became more widespread and violent. The central government began building a unified counterinsurgency framework. This included better coordination between states, use of paramilitary forces, and development programs aimed at reducing the appeal of Maoist ideology in tribal areas.
Strategies of successive Governments
Prior to 2000, the Indian government lacked a consistent or coordinated approach to dealing with Maoist militancy. Responses varied by state—some opted for aggressive policing and legal crackdowns, while others experimented with modest reform measures. Attempts at dialogue, such as those initiated by Andhra Pradesh in the early 2000s, were short-lived and ultimately collapsed after renewed violence eroded trust.
Since its formation in 2004, the CPI (Maoist) has waged a persistent insurgency, particularly across the resource-rich forests of central and eastern India. The conflict peaked in 2010, recording 1,005 deaths and nearly 2,000 violent events. By 2024, these numbers had plummeted to 150 fatalities and 374 incidents, reflecting reductions of 85% and 81% respectively.
As of early 2025, 91% of all LWE-related incidents were concentrated in only 25 districts—down from 76 districts in 2013. The deadliest assaults on security forces occurred between 2009 and 2010. Since then, the territory impacted by insurgency has shrunk dramatically, from around 18,000 square kilometers to 4,200, largely due to sustained security operations, improved intelligence-driven policing, and ongoing development work.
During the UPA’s tenure from 2004 to 2014, initiatives such as Operation Green Hunt were rolled out to combat Maoist militancy. The government also launched welfare schemes like the Backward Regions Grant Fund and the Integrated Action Plan (IAP) to address underdevelopment. However, critics argue that these programmes fell short in effectively involving tribal populations in the planning and execution process.
From 2014 onward, the NDA administration implemented a dual-track approach under the National Policy and Action Plan introduced in 2015. The strategy balances firm counterinsurgency measures with governance and development aimed at addressing socio-economic grievances in conflict zones.
Between 2017–18 and early 2025, the government disbursed ₹3,260.37 crore through the Security Related Expenditure (SRE) scheme. Infrastructure was significantly upgraded—fortified police stations increased from 66 to 612, while 280 security camps, 68 helipads, and 15 joint task forces were set up. Central Reserve Police Force (CRPF) deployment also saw a notable expansion.
Authorities also cracked down on the financial lifelines of Maoist groups. Coordinated efforts by the National Investigation Agency (NIA) and Enforcement Directorate (ED) led to significant asset seizures and disruption of funding channels.
To improve intelligence-sharing, the government established Multi Agency Centres (MAC) and their state-level counterparts. Additionally, new Joint Command and Control Centres were set up in Jagdalpur and Gaya to streamline operational coordination.
In 2024, operations led to the deaths of 290 Maoist insurgents, with 1,090 arrests and 881 surrenders reported. Specifically in Chhattisgarh, between January 2024 and March 2025, security forces eliminated 237 Maoists, apprehended 812, and saw 723 individuals lay down arms. These trends suggest a weakening of the insurgency and a decline in new recruitments.
On the development front, the government constructed more than 9,500 kilometers of roads and erected 7,777 mobile towers to improve connectivity. Under the Special Central Assistance program, a total of ₹3,724.95 crore was allocated to support tribal and backward regions.
Programs aimed at fostering community relations were also funded substantially. The Civic Action Programme received ₹196.23 crore, while media engagement and awareness campaigns were allocated ₹52.52 crore.
To counter the ideological pull of Maoism, the government launched several education and training initiatives. These included the establishment of 48 Industrial Training Institutes (ITIs), 61 Skill Development Centres (SDCs), and 178 Eklavya Model Residential Schools in tribal regions.
Financial inclusion was expanded through the opening of 1,007 new bank branches, 937 ATMs, and 5,731 post offices, specifically targeting underserved and remote areas.
In 2024, the Dharti Aaba Janjatiya Gram Utkarsh Abhiyan was introduced with the objective of reaching 1.5 crore individuals across 15,000 tribal villages. The campaign centers on delivering the “3Cs”: road infrastructure, mobile network access, and financial services.
The NDA’s model brings together national coordination, strong funding, and clear results. It moves away from just treating Maoism as a law-and-order issue, and instead focuses on building the state’s presence in tribal areas through governance, development, and security.
Tribal Rights and the Human Cost of Counterinsurgency
Maoist support among tribal populations is not purely ideological—it is deeply tied to decades of systemic neglect and injustice. Displacement, land alienation, and chronic shortages of essential services like education, healthcare, and legal representation have created widespread resentment and fostered a sense of abandonment among these communities.
To address these challenges, the government has rolled out a number of welfare initiatives, including the Special Central Assistance (SCA), Civic Action Programme (CAP), and the Dharti Aaba Janjatiya Gram Utkarsh Abhiyan. These programmes are designed to enhance infrastructure, broaden access to financial services, and extend public services such as schools, roads, and post offices to underserved tribal regions.
However, as Anshuman Behera argues, many of these efforts are designed from the top and driven by security concerns, not by local needs. Instead of empowering tribal communities, they often undermine constitutional protections such as the Panchayats (Extension to Scheduled Areas) Act (PESA) and the Forest Rights Act (FRA). These laws are meant to guarantee self-governance and community control over land and forests, but they are poorly implemented.
The ground-level situation paints a troubling picture. While physical infrastructure like roads is being laid, many schools suffer from teacher shortages, and health centres remain inadequately staffed. In numerous areas, the word ‘development’ has come to be associated more with the proliferation of security camps than with the delivery of basic rights and services. Gram Sabhas—key institutions under PESA meant to empower tribal self-governance—are frequently ignored during land acquisition for industrial or mining purposes, deepening the trust gap between tribal populations and the state.
Behera observes that what passes for governance in many tribal regions often resembles surveillance. Local decision-making is minimal, as development plans are typically crafted by bureaucrats or influential local actors without meaningful input from village councils. As a result, tribal communities find themselves caught in a precarious position—pressured by both state forces and Maoist insurgents, and denied a real voice in shaping their futures.
Security and the Political Dilemma
Recent coordinated missions in Narayanpur and Bijapur highlight improved collaboration between central and state security agencies. Enhanced intelligence-sharing via Multi-Agency Centres (MACs), State MACs, and joint command hubs in Jagdalpur and Gaya has enabled quicker and more precise operational responses. Valuable information from surrendered Maoist members and local sources has further contributed to these outcomes.
The killing of Basavaraju, the CPI (Maoist)’s top strategist, could deal a serious blow to the group’s command structure. Although the central government has not pursued unconditional negotiations, growing voices from civil society and regional administrations advocate for renewed dialogue. Telangana, for example, has floated proposals for a ceasefire—reminiscent of earlier failed efforts in Andhra Pradesh (2004) and the 2010 peace initiatives led by Swami Agnivesh. Yet, lasting peace will depend not just on military success but on meaningful political resolution and justice for affected communities.
Violence Cannot Deliver Justice
India’s prolonged battle with Maoist insurgency reveals a sobering reality – violence rarely results in lasting justice. The roots of the conflict lie in genuine issues like land dispossession, exploitation of tribal communities, and long-standing state apathy. However, the armed rebellion has ultimately inflicted more suffering than empowerment. Since 2004, the conflict has claimed nearly 9,000 lives—many of them tribal civilians caught in the crossfire.
The systematic neutralisation of senior Maoist figures and the contraction of rebel-held areas illustrate the limitations of armed rebellion within a democratic system. Yet, military victories cannot mask the broader truth: causes rooted in justice lose credibility when pursued through violence. While armed resistance can destabilise, it cannot foster the trust, legitimacy, or institutions needed for enduring change.
The main lesson from India’s Maoist conflict is clear – only democratic engagement, no matter how imperfect, can heal deeply rooted societal divides. What tribal communities truly require is not additional policing, but greater access to education, healthcare, land rights, and empowered local governance through functioning Gram Sabhas. Legal tools like the Forest Rights Act (FRA) and PESA offer the blueprint for justice, but their real-world impact depends on sincere and accountable implementation.
While the government’s target of eradicating Maoist militancy by 2026 appears increasingly attainable, achieving a truly just and inclusive society will require more than eliminating insurgents. The deeper challenge lies in restoring the social contract—ensuring that all citizens, particularly the most marginalized, feel recognized, respected, and protected by the state.
History teaches us that violence can inflame grievances but rarely brings redemption. In the end, only democratic processes have the capacity to deliver lasting justice.
