Indian Communists: Self-Hating Hindus

Indian Communists are self-hating Hindus masquerading as revolutionaries. Their rhetoric is borrowed, their rage inherited, their idiom second-hand. They curse their own civilization in Marx’s German accent and dream of revolution through Russian eyes. They despise temples but worship Lenin’s mausoleum. They chant dialectical materialism without understanding either dialectic or matter. They are colonized minds who mistake self-loathing for radicalism. They imagine they can become Russians or Chinese by reciting slogans in English. But they will always be Indians, and to be Indian is to carry the imprint of Hindu civilization whether they acknowledge it or not.

Even Moscow and Beijing long ago buried Marx’s economics under the rubble of their failed experiments. The Soviet Union collapsed. China privatized, globalized, and weaponized capitalism. Vietnam and Korea embraced markets with national dignity. But the Indian Communist still waves the red flag as if Khrushchev never denounced Stalin and Deng never opened Shenzhen. He confuses Marx’s critique of capital with the bureaucratic fantasy of a planned utopia. He clings to Marx’s nineteenth-century economics while ignoring Marx’s deeper insight—the dialectical law that all ideas must evolve, that history moves by negation. Marx negated Hegel; Lenin negated Marx; Mao negated Lenin. But the Indian Communist has never negated anything. He only imitates.

Marx’s economic determinism was a scientific hypothesis, not a revealed scripture. He sought to uncover the logic of production, not to construct a new religion. His dialectical materialism was a method of critical thought, not a party catechism. Yet in India, Marxism hardened into ritual. It became another faith, with dogmas, heresies, and priests. The Indian Communist abandoned the philosophical marrow and embraced the doctrinal shell. He quotes Das Kapital as a Brahmin quotes the Veda—without comprehension, without creativity, without courage to revise. The tragedy of Indian Communism is not that it failed to win elections; it failed to produce thinkers.

Worse, the Indian Communist fears the one confrontation that would prove his intellectual honesty: a critique of Islam. He attacks Hinduism daily because he knows Hindus will not kill him for it. But he trembles before the mullah and the mosque. He knows Islam is diametrically opposed to dialectical materialism. Marxism is monistic—it sees one reality, matter in motion. Monotheism is dualistic—it sees a transcendent God outside the world. To a Marxist, the universe has no creator; to a Muslim, denying the Creator is blasphemy. Between these there can be no synthesis. Yet Indian Communists stay silent. Their courage ends where their fear of fatwas begins.

This cowardice has moral consequences. A philosophy that once sought to liberate humankind from superstition now collaborates with it. The Indian Left defends the veil and the fatwa in the name of minority rights. It condemns Hindu reformers as fascists while excusing theocratic violence as resistance. It has replaced reason with guilt, dialectic with identity politics. It has turned Marx into a cultural relativist. The Communist Party of India is no longer a workers’ movement; it is a moral orphanage for deracinated Hindus who hate their own gods but cannot invent new ones.

Every civilization produces its heretics. But great heretics emerge from love, not hatred. Buddha rebelled against Vedic ritualism but remained rooted in Dharma. Śaṅkara challenged Buddhist nihilism but restored philosophical clarity. Both were rebels who renewed the civilization they criticized. The Indian Communist, by contrast, is not a heretic but a defector. He has no native soil beneath his feet. He translates Marx into the idioms of Bengal and Kerala but never translates India into Marxism. He can quote Engels but not Ādi Śaṅkara. He knows the Paris Commune but not the Nalanda debates. He worships revolutions abroad because he has none at home.

The irony is that dialectical materialism—the living, breathing heart of Marx’s philosophy—could have found its true fulfillment in India. The Buddha’s Pratītya-samutpāda (dependent origination) is the world’s oldest dialectical principle: everything arises in relation to everything else. The Sāṃkhya school conceived matter (prakṛti) and consciousness (puruṣa) as interacting polarities long before Engels wrote Dialectics of Nature. If the Indian Communist had studied his own civilization, he would have discovered that India anticipated the dialectic millennia before Marx. But colonial inferiority blinded him. He preferred Moscow to Mithilā.

The consequence is intellectual sterility. Indian Communists produce pamphlets, not philosophy. They confuse ideology with thought. Their universities churn out functionaries, not thinkers. The spirit of dialectic—question, contradiction, synthesis—has died in their classrooms. What remains is liturgy: endless recitations of class struggle without understanding class, endless denunciations of capitalism while living off its gadgets. They are museum pieces of a failed century, sustained only by nostalgia and envy.

The future will not belong to them. The future will belong to those who recover reason without servility, who unite Marx’s dialectical materialism with India’s rational Dharma, who reject both capitalist exploitation and theological tyranny. The Indian Communist could have been that bridge. Instead, he became a parrot of foreign revolutions. He will die repeating slogans written in other languages, buried under the ruins of his borrowed ideologies.

If the Indian Communist had understood Marx’s dialectic, he would have realized that negation is not destruction—it is transformation. Marx did not reject Hegel; he inverted him. He turned spirit into matter, theology into history, metaphysics into production. Likewise, the Indian Marxist’s task was not to reject Hindu civilization but to invert it—turn ritual into reason, caste into equality, metaphysics into ethics. But instead of dialectical negation, he performed cultural suicide. He amputated himself from his own philosophical lineage. He rejected the Upaniṣadic inquiry, the Buddhist logic of causation, and the Nyāya tradition of reasoning. He mistook mimicry for revolution.

True dialectics already flows in India’s philosophical bloodstream. The Buddha’s dependent origination, Nāgārjuna’s middle path, and Śaṅkara’s non-dualism are all variations of material and logical monism. The Indian mind, when liberated from priestly obscurantism, has always seen the universe as self-organizing, causally interdependent, and without a creator. This is the same insight Marx reached through Feuerbach and Hegel. Dialectical materialism is therefore not alien to India—it is the rediscovery of her own rational heart. Marx merely gave a scientific vocabulary to what India once knew intuitively: that all phenomena arise through conflict and change, not divine command.

What India must now recover is this indigenous rationalism stripped of both theology and imitation. Dharma, properly understood, is not religion but ethical causality—the order of consequences in human action. It is moral empiricism. It says: act justly, observe results, refine conduct. Dialectical materialism says: change the world, observe contradictions, refine theory. When combined, they form the world’s most powerful moral-scientific synthesis. Dharma gives Marxism conscience; Marxism gives Dharma method. Together they can build a civilization of reason.

Indian Communists failed to see this because they worshiped imported gods—Lenin, Stalin, Mao—while scorning their own philosophers. They replaced one priesthood with another. They quoted Marx’s eleventh thesis—“Philosophers have only interpreted the world; the point is to change it”—but never grasped that the Indian tradition already produced those who changed the world by changing thought: the Buddha, Aśoka, Nāgārjuna, Basava, Kabir. Each was a revolutionary without violence, a dialectician without dogma. They achieved what Marxists only preached: the union of social equality and intellectual honesty.

The Marxist failure in India is therefore not political but philosophical. It is a failure of imagination. The Left could have re-rooted Marx in the Indian soil, translated dialectic into Dharma, and built a rational, humanistic socialism free of both superstition and Stalinism. Instead, it turned sectarian, obsessed with party lines and imported slogans. It mistook loyalty for thought. It forgot that Marx himself was a critic before he was a comrade. His greatness lay in relentless questioning. The Indian Left lost that capacity the moment it became a bureaucracy.

The irony is that Indian civilization is the natural home of dialectical thought. Its history is a chain of debates—Veda versus Upaniṣad, Brahman versus Buddha, Śaṅkara versus Nāgārjuna, Cārvāka versus everyone. It thrives on contradiction. Every idea meets its antithesis, and from their conflict arises synthesis. This is the living dialectic that made India intellectually indestructible. But the modern Left, instead of revitalizing this tradition, tried to bury it. It became anti-Hindu instead of post-theological. It confused revolution with resentment.

The true revolution must begin not in the streets but in the mind. The Indian intellectual must learn again to think without permission. He must apply dialectical reason to his own civilization—analyze caste as a material relation, not a cosmic order; interpret karma as causality, not fate; redefine moksha as human liberation, not afterlife salvation. He must understand that Marx’s atheism and the Buddha’s nontheism are twins separated by centuries. Both reject creation myths; both affirm moral causality. Between them lies the foundation for a new rational humanism.

This synthesis—Dharma + Dialectical Materialism + Logical Empiricism—is India’s philosophical destiny. It unites ethics, ontology, and method. It rejects both capitalist greed and theocratic tyranny. It honors experience as the final court of truth. It calls the Indian mind back to its own rational heritage while marching forward with modern science. This is not nationalism; it is civilizational realism. It says that India need not copy Russia or China to be revolutionary; she need only be herself at her highest level of reason.When that synthesis arises, the Indian Communist will finally evolve into what he was meant to be: a Dharmic Revolutionary. He will cease to hate his past and begin to redeem it through logic. He will recognize that dialectical materialism was never foreign; it was waiting in the Sanskrit texts for someone to read it without fear. Then, and only then, will India produce her own Marx—not a Marx in translation, but a Marx in transformation.

The greatest moral bankruptcy of Indian Communism is its silence about the Islamic persecution of Communists across the world. A philosophy that once vowed solidarity with the oppressed now excuses the executioners. From Jakarta to Tehran, from Kabul to Algiers, Islamic regimes have slaughtered Marxists, banned socialist parties, and destroyed every trace of dialectical materialism. Yet the Indian Left, in its desperate hatred of Hindu civilization, aligns with those very forces that exterminated its comrades. It has become an accomplice to its own annihilation.

Indonesia remains the most staggering example. Between 1965 and 1966, after an alleged coup attempt, Islamic militias joined the Indonesian army in the massacre of more than half a million members and sympathizers of the Communist Party of Indonesia (PKI). The Ansor Youth Movement of Nahdlatul Ulama declared a holy war against atheists. Rivers were choked with corpses. Women were raped, entire villages annihilated. Marxists were slaughtered not for power but for disbelief. Their crime was materialism itself. Yet no Indian Marxist today utters the name of Indonesia. They prefer to forget the single largest anti-Communist genocide of the twentieth century.

In Iran, the story was identical. The revolution of 1979 was built partly by the Marxist Tudeh Party and the radical Fedayeen-e-Khalq. But once Ayatollah Khomeini seized power, he turned on them. Thousands of leftists were executed as apostates. The prisons of Evin and Gohardasht became factories of death. Communism was declared blasphemy. Marx was denounced from the pulpits. Yet the Indian Left, ever eager to condemn “Hindu fascism,” stays silent about Islamic theocracy’s war on its own ideological kin. It denounces the BJP in India but not the mullahs in Tehran. Its moral compass points only where it is politically safe.

Afghanistan repeats the same tragedy. The People’s Democratic Party of Afghanistan (PDPA), a Marxist organization, seized power in 1978 promising land reform and secular education. Within months, the Islamic clergy rose in rebellion. Mullahs called for jihad against atheists. The mujahideen, armed and blessed by Islamists, assassinated teachers, burned schools, and massacred party workers. Even after the Soviet invasion, the conflict remained religious at its core—a holy war against Marxism. Yet Indian Communists romanticize Afghanistan’s “resistance,” forgetting that the resistance was against socialism itself. They ignore that the Taliban is the end product of that jihad.

In Algeria, the National Liberation Front once contained a strong Marxist current. But after independence, Islamic factions purged the Left. During the 1990s civil war, Islamists targeted secular intellectuals, trade unionists, and Communist sympathizers. In Egypt, Nasser suppressed Communists in the 1950s, and Sadat later imprisoned them alongside the Muslim Brotherhood. In Sudan, Iraq, and Pakistan, Communist parties were banned outright. Across the Islamic world, dialectical materialism was treated as heresy and Marxists as infidels. The pattern is global, the evidence overwhelming, the silence of Indian Marxists absolute.

Why this silence? Because Indian Communists are no longer Marxists—they are anti-Hindus masquerading as progressives. Their primary enemy is not capitalism but Hindu civilization. Their politics is not solidarity but resentment. They can attack temples, saints, and scriptures with impunity; but they will never question mosques, clerics, or the Qur’an. Their revolutionary courage collapses before the threat of blasphemy laws. Their atheism ends where their fear of Islam begins. They are brave only against those who forgive.

This cowardice is not only moral but philosophical. Marxism is a monistic worldview: it asserts the unity of reality, the material basis of consciousness, and the causal laws of history. Islam, by contrast, is dualistic: it divides the world into Creator and creation, believer and unbeliever, eternal truth and temporal illusion. These two systems cannot coexist intellectually. The dialectic and the dogma are natural enemies. One builds knowledge through contradiction; the other forbids contradiction as sin. To reconcile them is not synthesis—it is surrender.

Yet the Indian Left has surrendered completely. It now defends Islamic theocracy in the name of multiculturalism. It calls criticism of Islam “Islamophobia” but mockery of Hinduism “secularism.” It pretends that an atheist ideology can coexist with a religion that punishes atheism with death. It equates Marx’s critique of religion with communal hatred, erasing its own philosophical foundation. The result is not socialism but schizophrenia: a mind split between materialism and appeasement.

The deeper contradiction is civilizational. Marxism, despite its Western birth, is fundamentally humanist—it abolishes divine authority in favor of human reason. Islam, like all monotheisms, restores divine authority by abolishing reason. When Communists ally with Islamists, they are not forging unity; they are digging their own graves. Every Islamic revolution that used socialist rhetoric ended by executing socialists. Every Communist who thought he could manipulate religion was ultimately devoured by it. Religion cannot be instrumentalized by materialism; it can only annihilate it.

The Indian Left ignores this because it is spiritually rootless. A Marxist grounded in Dharma would recognize that compassion without courage is hypocrisy. He would remember the Buddhist and Jain rebellions against the Vedic priesthood—revolutions of reason that did not fear confrontation. He would know that atheism in India was not imported; it was native, from the Cārvākas to the Buddhists. He would see that to be secular in India is to be Dharmic, not Abrahamic. But the Indian Communist, blinded by colonial guilt, mistakes appeasement for tolerance and silence for sophistication.

This alliance between the Left and Islam is the final stage of ideological decay. It transforms the revolutionary into the court jester of the clergy. It replaces analysis with apology. It turns materialists into moral cowards. And it proves that Indian Communism, in its present form, is beyond redemption. It can only be reborn by breaking this unholy pact—by rediscovering the courage to critique all religions, not just its own. Until then, it will remain the ghost of a dead movement, haunting campuses but not history.

The collapse of Indian Communism has created a vacuum not only in politics but in philosophy. Its death leaves behind a question that cannot be avoided: what follows the failure of imported revolutions? The answer will not come from Moscow or Beijing; it must come from the rebirth of India’s own rational tradition. The age of the Indian Communist ends where the age of the Dharmic Revolutionary begins.

The Dharmic Revolutionary is not a mystic dressed as a Marxist. He is the synthesis of India’s moral realism and Marx’s scientific reason. He accepts that the universe is causally lawful, that social injustice arises from material conditions, and that liberation must be achieved through knowledge, not revelation. He does not seek salvation but emancipation. For him, Dharma is not ritual; it is the ethical structure of causality. To violate justice is to violate the laws of existence itself. In this sense, he restores to Marxism what the Indian Left betrayed: a moral dimension grounded in experience, not theology.

Marx sought to replace metaphysics with history. The Dharmic Revolutionary extends that ambition by replacing superstition with conscience. He inherits the dialectic but frees it from dogma. He sees the Buddha and Marx not as opposites but as consecutive stages of human awakening: the first liberated the mind from metaphysical craving; the second liberated society from economic bondage. Both demolished divine authority and affirmed causal law. The Indian Communist, trapped in colonial guilt, never saw the connection. The Dharmic Revolutionary sees it instantly, because he stands on the same soil that produced both Nāgārjuna’s logic and Kabir’s revolt.

This new synthesis rejects the false binary of religion versus reason. It knows that India’s philosophical core has always been rational. The Nyāya school developed logic centuries before Aristotle. The Sāṃkhya system described evolution without a creator. Buddhism taught causality without God. These were not myths; they were hypotheses. They anticipated science. Dialectical materialism, when freed from European dogmatism, becomes the modern extension of this same civilizational line—the movement from myth to method. The Dharmic Revolutionary therefore does not import Marx; he reclaims him.

His economics are empirical, not utopian. He accepts that markets exist but insists they must serve ethical ends. He rejects both capitalist greed and socialist stagnation. He understands that productive forces are moral forces only when governed by rational ethics. He would rather build an economy that measures growth by human development, not profit margins. His revolution begins in education, not in class warfare. He will replace propaganda with inquiry, slogans with statistics, ideology with experimentation. He will turn the classroom into the new battleground of civilization.

Philosophically, he is a materialist without reductionism and a humanist without sentimentality. He knows that consciousness arises from material organization but that ethics arises from consciousness. This double awareness—matter as foundation, mind as emergent order—is the bridge between science and Dharma. It allows him to see that morality is not divine command but causal consequence. In that sense, he revives the moral naturalism that underlay both Buddhism and Marxism. He does not pray; he acts. He does not worship; he understands.

Culturally, he wages war on all forms of authoritarianism—Hindu orthodoxy, Islamic theocracy, Christian evangelism, capitalist consumerism, and Communist bureaucracy alike. His loyalty is not to tribe or party but to truth. He will not hide behind religion, and he will not hide behind ideology. He will expose the priest, the politician, and the professor with the same impartial fury. He recognizes that superstition and servility are twin enemies. The priest demands obedience; the bureaucrat demands conformity. Both fear the free thinker. The Dharmic Revolutionary fears neither.

Where the Indian Communist borrowed anger, the Dharmic Revolutionary embodies clarity. Where the former hated temples, the latter understands that reason must be worshiped in its own sanctum. His altar is the laboratory, his scripture the textbook, his ritual the public debate. He will not burn books; he will write better ones. He will not shout slogans; he will construct systems. He will revive the intellectual courage that once made India the workshop of world philosophy.

Politically, this transformation will redefine the Left itself. It will replace the politics of guilt with the politics of growth, the politics of resentment with the politics of reason. It will end the fraudulent alliance with religious obscurantism and rebuild solidarity on universal ethics. The new Left will not kneel before any god, eastern or western. It will not divide citizens by creed. It will reclaim secularism as the courage to criticize all faiths equally. Only then can it call itself revolutionary.

This synthesis—Dharma, Dialectical Materialism, and Logical Empiricism—is not a compromise; it is a culmination. It absorbs the moral insight of religion, the analytical rigor of science, and the revolutionary energy of socialism. It transforms them into a single civilizational philosophy that can confront both capital and clericalism. It is India’s answer to the crisis of modernity: a rational humanism that is ancient and new, indigenous and universal.

When this vision matures, the Indian Communist will vanish from history’s stage, replaced by the Indian Rationalist—the Dharmic Revolutionary—who unites compassion with critique, ethics with empiricism, and thought with action. His revolution will not be bloody, but it will be total. It will overthrow ignorance, not governments. It will dismantle superstition, not civilizations. And it will finally reconcile what India once was with what humanity must become.

Citations 

1. Karl Marx, A Contribution to the Critique of Political Economy (1859), Preface.
2. Karl Marx & Friedrich Engels, Dialectics of Nature (1883).
3. V.I. Lenin, Philosophical Notebooks (1914–16).
4. Karl Marx, Theses on Feuerbach (1845).
5. Buddha, Saṃyutta Nikāya II.28, Pratītya-samutpāda Sutta.
6. Bṛhadāraṇyaka Upaniṣad 4.4.5.
7. Sāṃkhya Kārikā, verses 3–5.
8. Nāgārjuna, Mūlamadhyamakakārikā 24.18.
9. Nyāya Sūtra 1.1.1.
10. Hans Reichenbach, The Rise of Scientific Philosophy (1951).
11. Maurice Cornforth, Dialectical Materialism (1950).
12. Robert Cribb, The Indonesian Killings of 1965–1966: Studies from Java and Bali (Monash University, 1990).
13. Ervand Abrahamian, Tortured Confessions: Prisons and Public Recantations in Modern Iran (University of California Press, 1999).
14. Barnett Rubin, The Fragmentation of Afghanistan (Yale University Press, 1995).
15. Martin Evans, Algeria: France’s Undeclared War (Oxford University Press, 2012).
16. Joel Beinin & Zachary Lockman, Workers on the Nile: Nationalism, Communism, Islam, and the Egyptian Working Class (Princeton University Press, 1987).

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