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CONTENTS
Vol. 4, No. 1: Winter 1972
Daniel Berrigan - For Saghir Ahmad
Feroz Ahmed - The Struggle for Bangladesh
Eqbal Ahmad - Notes on South Asia in Crisis
Mohan Ram - The Communist Movement in India
Mythily Shivaraman - Thanjavur: Rumblings in Tamil Nadu
Saghir Amhad - Peasant Classes in Pakistan
Kathleen Gough - Saghir Ahmad
Kathleen Gough - The South Asian Revolutionary Potential
Edward Friedman - China, Pakistan, Bangladesh
Richard DeCamp - The GI Movement in Asia
David Marr - Vietnamese Sources
Communications
BCAS/Critical AsianStudies
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CCAS Statement of Purpose
Critical Asian Studies continues to be inspired by the statement of purpose
formulated in 1969 by its parent organization, the Committee of Concerned
Asian Scholars (CCAS). CCAS ceased to exist as an organization in 1979,
but the BCAS board decided in 1993 that the CCAS Statement of Purpose
should be published in our journal at least once a year.
We first came together in opposition to the brutal aggression of
the United States in Vietnam and to the complicity or silence of
our profession with regard to that policy. Those in the field of
Asian studies bear responsibility for the consequences of their
research and the political posture of their profession. We are
concerned about the present unwillingness of specialists to speak
out against the implications of an Asian policy committed to en-
suring American domination of much of Asia. We reject the le-
gitimacy of this aim, and attempt to change this policy. We
recognize that the present structure of the profession has often
perverted scholarship and alienated many people in the field.
The Committee of Concerned Asian Scholars seeks to develop a
humane and knowledgeable understanding of Asian societies
and their efforts to maintain cultural integrity and to confront
such problems as poverty, oppression, and imperialism. We real-
ize that to be students of other peoples, we must first understand
our relations to them.
CCAS wishes to create alternatives to the prevailing trends in
scholarship on Asia, which too often spring from a parochial
cultural perspective and serve selfish interests and expansion-
ism. Our organization is designed to function as a catalyst, a
communications network for both Asian and Western scholars, a
provider of central resources for local chapters, and a commu-
nity for the development of anti-imperialist research.
Passed, 2830 March 1969
Boston, Massachusetts
I
Conlents
,
I
SOUTH ASIA IN TURMOIL
Danie l Berrigan For Saghir Ahmad
Feroz Ahmed 2
Eqbal Ahmad 23
Mohan Ram 30
MYthily Shivaraman 45
Saghir Ahmad 60
Kath leen Gough 72
Kath leen Gough 77
EdLJard Friedman 99
Riahard DeCamp 109
David Marr 119
126
128
The Struggle in Bangladesh*
Notes on South Asia in Crisis
The Communist Movement in India
Thanjavur: Rumblings in Tamil Nadu
Peasant Classes in Pakistan
Saghir Ahmad
The South Asian Revolutionary Potential
China, Pakistan, Bangladesh
The G.I. Movement in Asia
Vietnamese Sources
Communications
Contributors
Editors: Mark Selden/Perry Link Book Review I
Editor: Marilyn Young Managing Editor: Jon t
Livingston Graphias: Steve Hart/Jon Living- ,
stan Staff for this issue: John Brockett/Michael i
l
,.'
Gotz/Steve Hart/Mark McCloud/Lee Markiewicz/
Mitch Meisner/Betty Ragan Editorial Board: Rod
Aya/Frank Baldwin/Marianne Bastid/Herbert Bix/ ,
Fred Branfman/Noam Chomsky/John Dower/Kathleen f
Gough/Richard Kagan/Huynh Kim Khanh/Alfred I
McCoy/Jonathan Mirsky/Victor Nee/Felicia Old
father/James Peck/Richard Pfeffer/Franz Schur
mann/Yamashita Tatsuo
Bulletin Correspondanae: BAl, 9 Sutter Street
Room 300, San Francisco, California 94104.
Manusaripts: Perry Link, 18 Eustis #2, Cambridge,
Mass. 02140, in three copies if possible.
Committee of Conaerned Asian Saholars national
offiae: Boston CCAS, 146 Sixth Street, Cambridge,
Mass. 02139 [through March 1972]. For further !
information please turn to pages 59 and 125. I
Bulletin of Conaerned Asian Saholars, Winter 1972, Volume 4, Number 1. Published quarterly I
in spring, summer, fall, and winter. $6.00; student rate $4.00; library rate $10.00. '
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A subscription blank appears on page 97. Copyright (c) Bulletin of Concerned Asian
Scholars, 1972.
Credits for the magnificent photographs of Vietnamese women in the Fall 1971 issue were
inadvertently omitted; they were courtesy of Anne Dockery, Liberation News Service.
*"The Struggle in Bangladesh" will be available as the next item in the Bulletin
Reprint Series, from Glad Day Press, 308 Stewart Ave., Ithaca, N.Y. 14850. [Price not set]
BCAS. All rights reserved. For non-commercial use only. www.bcasnet.org
The Straggle in Bangladesh
by Feroz Ahmed
Ever since its creation in 1947,
Pakistan has been a geographical absurd
ity, with its two parts separated by one
thousand miles of unfriendly Indian ter
ritory. Greater than the spatial distance
was the difference in the social structure,
economy and culture. Adherance to a comroon
religion, Islam, was never sufficient to
make these two dissimilar parts a single
nation. But for almost twenty-four years
Pakistan weathered all storms and main
tained a precarious unity. That unity was
finally broken in March 1971 when the
West Pakistani military launched an all
out war to suppress the movement for
regional autonomy in East Pakistan,
forcing the region to declare itself
an independent People's Republic of
Bangladesh. The genocidal attacks of
the West Pakistani army against the Ben
gali people and the agony of the millions
of refugees who were forced to flee to
India have now become a familiar story.l
While focussing their attention on the
massacre and the inhuman conditions of
the refugees, the Western media have by
and large ignored the roots of the crisis.
The most common explanation of the con
flict, i.e. traditional hatred between
the Bengalis and Punjabis, misses the
point entirely. In this brief article I
shall attempt to show that the conflict
in Pakistan is a synergetic product of
the United States' foreign policy operat
ing within Pakistan's social structure.
Social Structure
Basic to the understanding of politi
cal developments in any country is the
analysis of its social structure. Here I
shall not attempt to discuss the economic
rationale for the creation of Pakistan,2
but shall begin with the social structure
inherited by Pakistan at the time of its
creation.
The regions which came to constitute
the state of Pakistan had traditionally
been the suppliers of raw materials to
the industries located in other parts
of India and in England. East Bengal (or
East Pakistan) grew jute, the so-called
golden fiber, for West Bengal factories.
It did not have a single jute mill of
its own. West Pakistan produced wheat
and cotton which it exchanged for manu
factured goods produced elsewhere. The
emerging industrial capitalist class
of India was almost totally non-Muslim,
and the commercial life of the regions
which later became Pakistan was dominated
by Hindu and other non-Muslim businessmen.
While landlords and peasants in the West
were Muslims, in East Pakistan rural life
was stratified along religious lines,
with almost all landlords being Hindus
and almost all rural Muslims being pea
sants.
The partition and the consequent emi
gration of Hindu landlords to India
created an enormous power vacuum in East
Bengal. The land left behind by the
Hindus was redistributed among the pea
sants, 52 per cent of whom own their own
land, with family farms averaging 3.5
acres. In the urban areas, the Bengali
elite consisted of the elements of the
decaying Muslim aristocracy, represented
by the regional Muslim League. In the
absence of an urban bourgeois class and
real economic power of the aristocracy,
the emerging petty-bourgeoisie, constitu
2
1
ted of small traders, shopkeepers, pro
fessional people, teachers and clerks,
became the potentially most important
class. Culturally, the influence of this
class was predominant, but economically
it was weak.
In West Pakistan, which also lacked
a bourgeois class, the absentee land
lords became the most powerful class.
However, the landlords were not politi
cally well-organized and they lacked the
capability of running a state which had
inherited many modern institutions from
the British colonialists. The bureaucracy,
which was trained by the British as an
instrument of colonial rule, became the
most effective political force in its
own right. Although this bureaucracy
had strong links with the landlord class,
the needs of a modern state and the
chaotic conditions of the partition
enabled it to become a semi-autonomous
social force and to fill the vacuum
created by the departure of the British.
The bureaucracy was drawn almost entirely
from the Punjab province and the Urdu
speaking refugees who had settled in
Sind. The third political force was the
military, again British-trained and drawn
mainly from the Punjab. But the political
influence of the military was limited in
the beginning. 3
West Pakistan also received, among
its immigrants, traders belonging to the
Memon, Bohra and Khoja communities of
Gujrat and Bombay who settled in Karachi.
These and other commercial elements later
transformed themselves into an industrial
capitalist class. Because of their small
size, narrow community base, and lack of
roots in Pakistan, these industrial entre
preneurs never asserted themselves as a
political force. Their marriage of con
venience with the bureaucrats at least
ensured them policies supporting their
enterprise.
Because of the virtual absence of
capitalists, feudal landlords, bureau
cracy and the military in East Pakistan,
the West Pakistani power structure became
the national power structure as well,
ruling the eastern part with the collabora
tion of the dying Muslim aristocracy.
Colonization of East Bengal
At independence, the Gross Domestic
Product (GDP) of East Pakistan exceeded
the GDP of West Pakistan (Table 1). Ed
ucation was also more extensive in the
East than in the West (Table 2). But
given the economic disruption of the
partition and the difference in the social
structures in East and West Pakistan, in
addition to certain advantages of economic
infrastructure in West Pakistan, inevitably
the industrialization of Pakistan turned
the eastern region into a colony of the
West and created disparities in economic
and social development of the two regions.
The process of industrialization in
Pakistan began with the investment of
capital in cotton textile industries in
West Pakistan and jute mills in East
Pakistan by the commercial bourgeoisie
of West Pakistan. The development of
industries in East Pakistan was carried
out only to the extent that it benefited
the West Pakistani capitalists. It was
not simply a profit-making enterprise
but an essential condition for the in
dustrial development of West Pakistan
itself. Availability of certain raw
materials, such as cotton; presence of
economic infrastructure, such as the sea
port of Karachi, railways and roads;
location of the central government and
financial institutions; and lesser mili
tancy of the proletariat offered a more
suitable climate for investment in West
Pakistan. But such industrialization
required importation of capital goods
and some essential raw materials. Develop
ment of the jute industry in the East
by West Pakistani capitalists, therefore,
amounted to increasing the capacity of
foreign exchange earning, since East
Pakistan, producer of more than 80% of
the world's jute, had ready-made world
markets. In the early years, the export
of raw and processed jute accounted for
70% of Pakistan's foreign exchange earning.
This foreign exchange was used for the
industrialization of West Pakistan. East
3
Pakistan received only 25-30% of the total
imports (Table 3).
Thus penetration of West Pakistan-based
capital into East Pakistan not only estab
lished an antagonistic relationship between
the Bengali worker and the West Pakistani
capitalist, but it set off a process of
draining East Pakistan's resources for the
industrial development of West Pakistan.
Policies imposed in order to guarantee
cheap raw materials for the factories re
sulted in the exploitation and increased
impoverishment of the Bengali peasants.
Such policies were adopted and enforced
on behalf of the West Pakistani capitalists
by the bureaucracy which was also largely
West Pakistani. Not trusting the Bengalis,
the West Pakistani capitalists brought
along with them West Pakistani managers
for their factories, many of them trained
in the University of Pennsylvania-initiated
business school in Karachi.
The members of the Bengali petty-bour
geoisie who aspired to have a slice of the
industrial cake or to obtain civil and
military positions and managerial jobs in
industry found the West Pakistani ruling
structure and its local allies obstructing
their development. Thus all the classes
of East Pakistan -- the proletariat, the
peasantry and the petty-bourgeoisie -
stood in an antagonistic relationship with
the West Pakistani power structure and
their local collaborators.
In addition to the exploitation of
Eas t Pakis tan's raw materials and cheap
labor, the third important ingredient
of classical colonialism -- using the
colony as a market for the mother country's
manufactures -- was also present from the
inception of Pakistan. Table 4 shows the
relative values of exports of one region
to the other, with West Pakistan consist
ently having a favorable balance of trade.
With the industrialization of West Pakis
tan, the need for the captive market in
East Pakistan grew more acute, and manu
factured goods began to occupy a much
larger share of the exports to East
Pakistan. The pattern of industrial de
velopment was based on the assumption that
the East Pakistani market would consume
a significant part of West Pakistani
manufactures, since these high-cost pro
ducts could not compete in the world mar
ket. Cotton textiles, which constituted
the largest single item in West Pakistan's
exports to East Pakistan, faced stiff
competition in the world market. On the
other hand, the largest item in East
Pakistan's list of exports to the West
was tea, which is a popular item of
consumption in West Pakistan but which
could always find a place in the world
market. In fact, in recent years Pakistan
had drastically curtailed her exports of
tea, leaving the market largely to two
neighboring countries, India and Ceylon.
4
Thus in the context of Pakistan's
given social structure, economic p r o g r e s ~
amounted to tightening West Pakistan's
power structure and perpetuating further
exploitation of East Pakistan. The only
way to break this vicious cycle was to
redefine the social relationships and to
organize production along socialist lines.
That was the only guarantee of national
unity. But such a program could not pos
sibly be conceived by the exploiting
classes. They chose a path which only
aggravated the existing relationships
between the two regions.
Imperialism from Without Promotes
Colonialism from Within
The colonization of East Bengal was
inherent in the power vacuum created by
the partition, especially in the absence
of an indigenous bourgeois class, and
the exigencies of capitalist development
in West Pakistan. But capitalism itself
could not have experienced such an un
bridled growth had not an external ele
ment been introduced into Pakistan's
political dynamics and into the relation
ship between its two parts.
The celebrated "robber barons" of
West Pakistan would have faced competiton
from, and yielded some ground to, the
emerging bourgeoisie in Bengal had the
rules of "free enterprise" and competi
tive capitalism prevailed. After all,
West Pakistani entrepreneurs were not
so invincible in the beginning as to be
4
able to impose monopolistic control over
East Pakistan, despite the support they
received from the all-powerful bureau
cracy. The emergence of A.K. Khan, who
served as a minister in Ayub Khan's
first cabinet, and a few other indus
trialists in Bengal was an indication
of the possibilities of entrepreneurship
that existed in East Pakistan. But West
Pakistan's capitalists were not a
"national bourgeoisie" whose growth
and prosperity would depend entirely
on the exploitation of national resources
and domestic savings. They sought colla
boration with foreign capital in order
to increase their fortunes and were
willing to offer benefits to the im
perialist powers at the expense of the
people of Pakistan.
Fortunately for them, the United
States, the leading money lender since
World War II, was actively seeking Cold
War allies and was eager to provide
economic and military "assistance" to
third world ruling groups willing to
collaborate with her. The Pakistani
rulers seized this opportunity and in
1951 began to receive economic aid -
mainly grants in the beginning -- from
the U.S. By 1954, Pakistan was firmly
in the orbit of the United States,
having signed a mutual security treaty
and joined the Southeast Asian Treaty
Organization (SEATO). In 1955, it also
became a member of another American
pact, the Baghdad Pact (renamed later
as the Central Treaty Organization or
CENTO), with Iran, Turkey and Iraq as
its allies. American military aid began
rolling into Pakistan, amounting to
$1.5-2.0 billion by 1969.
5
As part of
her obligation to the U.S., the Pakistan
government allowed America to build a
military base near Peshawer, and to use
its civilian airfields for espionage
flights, including the ill-fated U-2
plane which was shot down in the Soviet
Union, causing a major international
crisis. Pakistan's leaders repeatedly
assured the U.S. of their complete alle
giance. In a 1961 address to the U.S.
Congress, Pakistan's then-President
Ayub Khan said, "if there is real trou
ble, there is no country in Asia where
you will be able to put your foot in.
The only people who will stand by you
are the people of Pakistan. ,,6
Although U.S. economic aid, like its
military aid, was designed to maintain
"a position of influence and control
around the world, ,,7 the economic benefits
to the U.S. were not unimportant. With
its aid program as an entering wedge,
the U.S. expanded its share of Pakistan's
imports from 6% in 1952 to as much as
40% in the early sixties. Aid as an
instrument of economic imperialism has
been treated extensively by many scholars,
including Magdoff
8
and Alavi. 9
What we are mainly concerned with here
is the effect of foreign economic and
military aid on political developments
in Pakistan, especially the relationship
between East and West Pakistan.
Economic Aid
By 1969 the United States had pro
vided $3 billion in grants and loans -
mainly loans in the later years -- for
Pakistan's economic development.
lO
Among
the many strings attached to U.S. aid
was the explicit guideline to encourage
"private enterprise." For this purpose
US advisors under Harvard's Development
Advisory Service (n.A.S.) were sent
to Pakistan to influence the policies
of the Planning Commission and other
economic decision-making agencies.
ll
The U.S. aid mission in Pakistan played
no small role in initiating economic
policies for Pakistan.
12
In the interest
of Pakistan's robber barons, Pakistan's
bureaucrats -- and later military offi
cers as well -- followed American advice.
So faithfully did the Pakistani rulers
abide by the U. S. advice that one of the
top advisors to Pakistan had this to say
about her development.
Po liaies have been framed to assUY'e
that the government intervenes in
the economy when such intervention
is in theory luhile Zeaving
in private handS decisions
according to shouZd be left
to private initiative.
13
(Emphasis
added)
5
PakUtan's dependence on foreign
economic aid was so colossal that 35%
of her first Five-year plan, 50% of her
second plan and 26% of the third plan
was supported by external loans and
grants. The lower percentage in the last
plan does not indicate relative self
sufficiency; it was necessitated by
strains in the Pakistan-U.S. alliance
as a result of the Sino-Pakistan "friend
ship." Pakistan's economic success was
heralded throughout the capitalist
world, and Pakistan was often cited
as the "show-case" of non-communist
development. 14 According to Professor
Edward Mason, foreign aid was the single
most important factor in Pakistan's
economic growth.
15
But a model of economic development
which envisaged growth through the
agency of a handful of robber barons
was bound to lead to contradictions
and to negate the limited gains already
achieved. As ~ result of the capitalist
model followed by Pakistan, 20 fandlies
came to control 80% of the banking, 70%
of the insurance and 66% of the indus
trial assets of Pakistan.
16
The gulf
in income created by such accumulation
of wealth, the disruption of traditional
life, and the consequent alienation of
the masses found their expression in
the massive countrywide upsurge that
lasted for five months in 1968-69 and
overthrew Ayub Khan's dictatorship.
The volcano was tranquilized by the
imposition of martial law and the pro
mise of free elections. But the momen
tum of economic growth lost in 1968 has
not been regained since.
17
These developments not only intensi
fied the class struggle but aggravated
already existing regional strains. The
robber barons were all West Pakistan:f.;
given their preference to invest in West
Pakistan, the growth of this class alOOunted
to increased disparity between the two
regions. By the end ~ f the notorious
"decade of development" (1958-68), West
Pakistan's GDP exceeded that of East
Pakistan by 34%, the official disparity
in per capita income had become 62%, and
the real difference in the average stan
dard of living had widened to 126%.18
Table 1 shows the widening economic
gap between the two regions over a
period of twenty years.
The manner in which foreign aid
and foreign advice helped in widening
this gulf may be stated simply: private
enterprise, being mainly West Pakistani,
preferred to invest in the more "condu
cive" atmosphere of West Pakistan; the
public sector followed suit by heavy
allocations for the economic infra
structure centered in West Pakistan;
the growing power of the West Pakistani
capitalists and the prevailing philoso
phy of economic development prevented
higner taxes on the rich. Insufficient
public resources meant insufficient
allocation to East Pakistan -- even if
it had received its due share of public
resources. 19
Regional disparities in allocation,
and therefore in economic growth, have
been given a great deal of attention by
East Pakistani economists, who were the
supporters of the Awami League. But in
view of the fact that the private sec
tor was allOOSt entirely West Pakistani
20
and the public sector existed merely to
augment the private sector, removal of
disparities would have led only to the
equalization of the superficial economic
indicators, such as GDP and per capita
income. It would not have changed the
colonial nature of the economy.
Military Aid
From 1954 Pakistan's status as an
active ally of the United States in the
Cold War necessitated altering the in
ternal balance of forces:
F ~ m a political viewpoint, u.s.
m i l i t ~ aid has strengthened
Pakistan's armed services, ,the
greatest stabilizing force in the
country, and has encouraged Pakistan
to participate in collective defense
agreements. 21
The u.s. military assistance converted
Pakistan's army into the paramount
6
political force in the country -- the
great defender of the propertied classes
and a deterrent to a possible social
revolution. In 1958 the army asserted
its hegemony by staging a coup in order
to prevent the scheduled general elections.
The leader of the coup, General Ayub Khan,
later revealed that he had consulted
officials in Washington, including CIA
chief Allen Dulles, before declaring
martial law in Pakistan.
22
In terms of the regional relations in
Pakistan, the ascendency of the military
amounted to greater enslavement of East
Pakistan. Military rule not only pre
cluded any possibility of East Pakistan
asserting her demographic strength in
parliamentary elections, but the army's
growth also led to more brutal exploita
tion of East Pakistan. The overgrown
military establishment consumed as much
as 60% of the country's revenue budget.
Not only did it consume resources of both
regions, but East Pakistan's foreign ex
change was vital to its survival,
especially after 1965 when it had to
buy spare parts and new weapons in the
black market. Since military head
quarters were located in West Pakistan
and 90% of its ranks and almost 100% of
its top positions were held by West
Pakistanis, East Pakistan was denied
a share in the local expenditure of the
military and the job opportunities it
created. Above all, the military's
role as the guardian of capitalism and
the pulverizer of the popular will
expedited the colonization of East
Bengal and diminished the possibilities
of peaceful change in the regional
relationships.
It is evident from the above dis
cussion that Pakistan's social structure
was predisposed to creating colonial
relationships between her two regions.
But the possibilities of altering such
relations were greatly reduced by the
imperialist interference in Pakistan.
While the Pakistani approach to economic
development based on foreign aid and
advice exacerbated the existing contra
dictions between the mother country and
the colony, the political power of the
West Pakistani military, resulting from
American military alliances, made it
impossible for East Pakistan to secure
its rights through parliamentary processes.
Cultural Imperialism
No discussion of the conflict be
tween East and West Pakistan would be
complete without refering to East Ben
gal's national question. Although
linked intimately with the colonial
question, the cultural issue by itself
was an important source of regional
tensions.
Geographical and historical condi
tions produced enormous cultural differ
ences between East and West Pakistan.
Whereas the West was greatly influenced
by the Middle East, with all of its
written languages using modified Arabic
scripts, East Pakistan was culturally
homogeneous with West Bengal in India
with whom it shared a long common history,
a rich cultural heritage and a Sanskri t
like script. The centrifugal potential
of this cultural gap was recognized
right away by the ruling classes of West
Pakistan who feared that religious unity
alone might not be able to maintain
"national unity."
True to colonial traditions, the
West Pakistani rulers embarked upon a
campaign of "assimilating" the Bengalis
into Pakistan's "mainstream." As a
result, Urdu, a language of 3.7% of
Pakistanis, was imposed as the sole
national language, despite Bengali pro
tests. Bengali legislators trying to
speak in their own language in the assem
bly were warned that they could be tried
for treason. The political and economic
implications of this cultural imperialism
were seen clearly by the Bengali masses
whose spontaneous movement in 1947-48
and again in 1952 resulted in the
acceptance of Bengali as the second
national language of Pakistan. But this
was not accomplished without a massacre
of the Bengali protesters.
23
7
With the emergence of the West
Pakistani (more accurately Punjabi)
military as the paramount political
force, and with the acceleration of
capitalist development, the onslaught
against Bengali culture and attempts
at "Islamization" and "Pakistanization"
also intensified. Former President Ayub
Khan remarked several times that the
Bengalis should be freed from the "evil
influence" of the Hindu culture. He even
banned the playing of Tagore' s songs
on Radio Pakistan because Tagore was
Hindu and, therefore, an evil influence.
But the Nobel prize-winning Tagore was
the national poet of Bengalis, loved and
admired by Hindus and Muslims alike. 24
The Bengali masses considered this
assault against their culture a weapon
in West Pakistan's colonial domination
over East Pakistan.
In order to set back East Pakistan's
cultural development, not only were there
official attempts at "national integration,"
but educational progress in the region was
retarded and Bengalis, who were previously
more educated than the West Pakistanis,
were forced into a secondary position,
as can be seen in Table 2. This educa
tional disparity was then used to ration
alize lower participation of Bengalis
in the civil service and the fewer
scholarships awarded to Bengalis for
advanced studies in foreign countries.
In a survey I conducted in 1966-67, I
found that barely 20% of Pakistani stu
dents enrolled in U.S. universities came
from East Pakistani institutions.
25
Colonial ruling classes, in order to
exact the support of their own oppressed
masses, not only throw them a few crumbs,
but try to justify their conquest by in
venting and perpetuating myths about the
racial and cultural inferiority of the
colonized people. The British had already
left behind myths about the lethargy,
cowardice and untrustworthiness of the
Bengalis, to which the West Pakistani
rulers added the promiscuity and semi
Hinduism of the Bengali Muslims. 1hese
stereotypes were readily accepted by a
large segment of the West Pakistani
intelligentsia who benefitted from dis
crimination against Bengalis.
26
One of
the favorite right-wing "scholars" of the
ruling alliance, I.H.Qureshi, went to the
extent of stating that Bengalis were a
different (implying inferior) race from
the West Pakistanis.
The results of this indoctrination
of West Pakistanis were reflected in the
vengeance, pride and venom with which
West Pakistani military officers carried
out the carnage in East Bengal after
March 25, 1971. Particularly illuminating
were the remarks of a Major Kamal who
told an American construction worker,
interviewed on CBS television, that
after the West Pakistanis had conquered
East Bengal, each of his soldiers would
have a Bengali mistress and that no dogs
and Bengalis would be allowed in the
exclusive 01it tagong Club. As a member
of the West Pakistani "educated class"
I can testify that this is by no means
an isolated case. Anti-Bengali and anti
Hindu bigotry is rampant in West Pakistan
and it has now been adopted as the
official doctrine of the regime.
Political Response
The colonial relationship between
East and West Pakistan overshadowed the
class struggle and united virtually all
classes of Bengali society against West
Pakistani domination. The urban petty
bourgeoisie, because of its commercial,
industrial and bureaucratic aspirations,
in addition to its self-image as the
preserver of Bengali culture, was in the
forefront of the struggle.
The first manifestation of Bengali
resistance appeared in the form of the
language movements of 1947-48 and 1952.
But the growing political strength of the
petty-bourgeoisie was demonstrated most
clearly in the 1954 regional elections
when the petty-bourgeois United Front,
with the Awami League as its major
component, gave a crushing defeat to
the Muslim League, the party of the West
Pakistani landlords, commercial bour
geoisie and the bureaucracy, represented
in East Pakistan by the dying Muslim
aristocracy. The United Front program
8
essentially envisaged a bourgeois demo
cratic revolution in East Pakistan and
reflected the hope of the petty-bour
geoisie for a peaceful sharing of the
cake with West Pakistani capitalism. By
that time, West Pakistani capitalism had
not exerted its monopolistic power. East
Pakistan still had a slight edge in GDP
over West Pakistan. Bengali nationalism
had not grown as intense as it did after
wards, and class issues were still very
much alive. The Communist Party, cam
paigning on the basis of class issues,
won four of the ten seats it contested.
Twenty-two other members of the party
and several sympathizers were elected
to the assembly on the ticket of the
Awami League or as independents.
But 1954 was the decisive year in
which Pakistan's ruling classes threw
in their lot unequivocally with the
United States by joining Cold War pacts.
The stage was set for the development of
West Pakistani monopolies with a tripling
of foreign economic aid and for the con
version of the military into the para
mount political force through massive
military assistance from the United
States. The election results in East
Pakistan provided a serious warning to
the West Pakistani rulers. The latter
quickly rendered the Bengali challenge
ineffective by paralyzing the parliamen
tary process with the dismissal of
ministries and dissolution of the parlia
ment, and by the co-optation of selected
leaders of the United Front into the
central government. The Communist Party
was declared illegal in 1954.
With the old aristocracy completely
routed and the opportunism of the Bengali
petty-bourgeois leadership exposed, there
was a growing frustration among the masses
and a serious split within the ranks of
the petty-bourgeoisie. Not only was the
United Front dismembered but a large
faction of the Awami League, with its
component of Communists, left the party
to merge with several nationalist groups
in West Pakistan and a. tiny left-liberal
organization, the Ganatantri Dal, in East
Pakistan, forming the National Awami Party
(NAP) in 1957. Besides advocating many
bourgeois democratic reforms in both parts
of the country, the NAP became the only
party to demand Pakistan's withdrawal
from SEATO and the Baghdad Pact and
pursuance of a non-aligned foreign
policy. The growing influence of the
NAP threatened the interests of the
United States and its West Pakistani
collaborators. But before elections
could be held in 1958, the military
led by General Ayub Khan staged a coup,
abrogated the constitution and banned
all political parties.
The subsequent "decade of development"
was a period of unbridled growth of the
West Pakistani monopoly capitalists. The
Bengalis not only faced more brutal ex
ploitation, but were deprived of the
forum for airing their grievances, the
parliament. The Khan regime did not even
consider it necessary to co-opt members
of the Bengali petty-bourgeoisie in
order to provide an appearance of
Bengali representation.
With the intensification of economic
exploitation and political repression,
the Bengali nationalism also grew more
virulent, clouding the class issues
and leading towards a generalized hatred
of West Pakistanis. The Bengali left,
represented by the NAP, partly because
of its insistence on nationwide social
justice and partly due to its cooperation
with the regime on account of its "friend
ship" with China, alienated itself from
the national movement. The NAP was a
national party which was concerned not
only with the regional grievances of
East Pakistan but which sought to end
the imperialist grip over Pakistan as
a whole. But political consciousness in
East Bengal was essentially Bengali
nationalist. Any support for the govern
ment was, therefore, viewed by Bengalis
as collaboration with the enemy. Under
Chinese influence, the NAP went beyond
according a principled support for the
regime's "anti-imperialist" policies;
it shied away from confronting the West
Pakistani ruling structure on all sub
stantive issues.
The Awami League (AL) , with its
six-point program of regional autonomy,27
became the unchallenged standard-bearer
9
I
of the Bengali movement. The AL program
was essentially a bill of rights for the
Bengali petty-bourgeoisie, but by demand
ing the right of negotiating foreign aid
and trade for the province, it threatened
the vested interests of the West Pakistani
military and bourgeoisie. Its program of
abolishing the central civil service and
replacing it with proportional repre
sentation from the provinces ran counter
to the interests of the West Pakistani
bureaucracy. The Ayub regime responded
to that program by jailing several mem
bers of the AL and indicting its leader,
Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, for treason.
But in 1968-69, before a judgement
against Mujib could be handed down, both
parts of Pakistan were shaken by a massive
popular upsurge against the regime. The
charges against Mujib were dropped, most
of the political prisoners were freed,
Ayub Khan resigned, and the new military
ruler, General Yahya Khan, declared
martial law, with a promise of future
elections.
28
General Yahya Khan fulfilled his
promise by holding elections in December
1970 -- the first direct countrywide
elections in Pakistan's history. The
Awami League, campaigning on the plat
form of its six-point program of regional
autonomy, was expected to emerge as the
largest single party in the new assembly.
But no one expected this regional party
to win a simple majority nationwide. A
devastating cyclone and tidal wave -
this century's worst natural disaster -
hit the coastal areas of East Pakistan
three weeks before the elections, leaving
approximately half a million people dead
and another three million marooned. The
military government's callous inefficiency
in providing relief to the affected people
inflamed Bengali passions and dashed the
prospects of the political parties which
did not support the demand for autonomy.
Maulana Bhashani, the octogenerian pea
sant leader and the President of the NAP,
demanded independence for East Pakistan
and boycotted the elections. A corrbination
of these factors gave the AL 160 out of
162 contested National Assembly seats in
East Pakistan -- a clear majority nation
10
wide in a house of 300 members. The way
was now open for the AL to frame a new
constitution on the basis of its six
point program.
But, as the world knows today, the
AL was never allowed to frame a constitu
tion or to form a government. Instead
East Bengal has become a theater of the
most gruesome drama of death and destruc
tion since Auschwitz. This catastrophic
end of Pakistan's honeymoon with democ
racy can only be explained in terms of
the colonial relations between East
and West Pakistan and the semi-Fascist
character of the West Pakistani military.
On the basis of the analysis of the
Awami League's class character and poli
tical program, I had asserted earlier
that the AL sought the limited objective
of controlling East Pakistan's resources,
but in order to develop itself into an
industrial capitalist class, the Bengali
petty-bourgeoisie needed the cooperation
of West Pakistani and foreign capital. 29
By implication I suggested that indepen
dence was not on the AL's agenda since
given the peculiar class structure of
East Pakistan, independence could lead
to a rapid collapse of the nascent
bourgeois political power and pave the
way for a possible popular revolution
whose objective would be socialism.
There is evidence that the Awami
League had contemplated a compromise with
the West Pakistani power structure. 30
But the absolute majority won by the AL
in the assembly, the increasingly uncom
promising mood of the Bengali masses
3l
and the fear that Bhashani' s demand for
independence might destroy the credibility
of the AL made it almost impossible for
Sheikh Mujib to give in to the West
Pakistani rulers during the constitutional
talks. The West Pakistani bourgeois poli
ticians probably understood the dilemma
of the AL and continued to support it
despite its insistence on including all
of the six points in the constitution.
32
It is not unusual in Pakistani politics
to go back on election promises. Probably
the West Pakistani capitalists had reason
to believe that partnership with the AL
would be possible even if the constitu
tion were drafted on the basis of the
six points.
The military, however, believed it
would be impossible to perpetuate West
Pakistani dominance and win other con
cessions from the Awami League once
the constitution incorporated the six
points. Even if the Awami League com
promised with the military after
assuming the governmental responsibili
ties, there was no guarantee that the
NAP or a future leadership of the AL
would not demand implementation of
East Pakistan's constitutional rights.
Clearly the Awami League's policy of
seeking a detente with India, basically
through the provincial control of
foreign trade, militated against the
military's raison d'etre.
33
The military
had two possibilities of sabotaging an
unfavorable constitution: to nullify
the elections or to refuse to validate
the constitution after it had been
passed by the AI..-dominated assembly.
In view of the popular sentiment for
return to parliamentary politics, both
of these alternatives were somewhat
risky.
The military refused to convene the
assembly before the AL had yielded to
it in the extra-parliamentary talks
initiated by Yahya Khan between him
self, Mujib and the Pakistan People's
Party chief, Ali Bhutto. But Yahya's
blatant support for Bhutto' s announced
boycott of the session scheduled for
March 3, his indefinite postponement
of the assembly session without consul
tation with Mujib and his highly pro
vocative speech of March 6, made it
evident that the military was not pre
pared for a ''business-like'' deal. It
wanted an outright surrender from the
Awami League. The non-cooperation move
ment in East Bengal, started in response
to the military's arbitrary actions,
convinced the semi-Fascist hardcore in
the junta that b rote force, which had
previously been used in Baluchistan and
the Northwest Frontier Province, was
the only answer to Bengali nationalism.
The dismissal of East Pakistan's moderate
Governor, Admiral Ahsan, the appointment
of the notorious General Tikka Khan as
the new Governor, and the dissolution of
the semi-civilian central cabinet were
the signals warning of the impending
military onslaught. Only the logistical
problem of transporting troops from West
Pakistan via the over-water route around
Ceylon had to be solved. In a tactical
move General Yahya flew to Dacca for
talks with the AI.. leaders in which he
appeared very conciliatory. As soon as
the troop build-up was completed, with
apprOXimately 50,000 West Pakistani
soldiers in East Bengal, General Yahya
left for West Pakistan and a reign of
terror was unleashed on the people of
East Bengal.
Interestingly enough, in his March
26 speech, the General made no mention
of any Awami League conspiracy to separ
ate East Pakistan from the union;
instead, he used the AL's alleged pro
posal of calling separate sessions of
East and West Pakistani legislators and
the non-cooperation movement as the signs
of the AI.. , s intention to "breakaway
completely from the country. "34 The
Prime Minis ter 0 f the "Provisional Govern
ment of Bangladesh," Tajuddin Ahmed, later
stated that the proposal for the separate
sessions was Yahya' s own and that "at
no stage was there any breakdown of
talks or any indication by General Yahya
or his team that they had a final posi
tion which could not be abandoned. "35
Indeed, it took six weeks for the military
to fabricate charges and to issue its
"official expose" of the Awami League's
"secessionist plot."
All evidence goes to show that the
smaU hours of March 26 had been set
as the zero hour for an a:rrned up
rising, and the formal launching
of 'the independent RepubUc of
Bangladesh. ' The plan was to seize
Dacca and Chittagong, lying astride
the army's air/sea lifelines to
West Pakistan..... the Armed forces
made a series of pre-emptive strikes
around midnight of March 25-26,
seized the initiative and saved
the country. 36
11
If there was indeed a plot for seces
sion, it is a very poor reflection on the
American-trained Pakistani intelligence
corps to have discovered it six weeks
after the fact, or on the celebrated
"Information" Minis t ry to have revealed
it that late. But the "evidence" the
military government is referring to has
been presented nowhere.
Simultaneous with the crackdown
against the Bengali autonomy movement,
the a ~ launched repression in West
Pakistan, where a number of leftist
politicians and working class leaders
were thrown into jail. 37 The army then
announced the decision to appoint legis
lators to frame the constitution, to
disallow regional political parties,
and to continue martial law even after
the formal trans fer of government to
civilians.
38
These developments were
consistent with the a ~ ' s role in 1958
and 1969 in sabotaging the possibilities
of freeing Pakistan from the imperialist
noose and af bringing radical social
changes within the country.
The Struggle Ahead
The Pakistan a ~ ' s decision to seek
a "final solution" of the "Bengal prob
lem" by a genocidal attack, besides re
sulting in the massacre of hundreds of
thousands of innocent civilians, the
burning and strafing of thousands of
towns and villages and the exodus of
millions of refugees, has qualitatively
changed the nature of the struggle in
Bangladesh and has generated new possi
bilities and dangers throughout South
Asia.
For the struggle in East Bengal itself,
the military operation proved the futility
of the parliamentary politics of the petty
bourgeois Awami League and vindicated the
left groups which had demanded independence
or resorted to guerrilla training instead
of participating in the elections. The
dream 0 f achieving regional autonomy
within the union of Pakistan died with
the first blast of canons on the night
of March 25, 1971. Instead, an armed
national liberation struggle was born.
The military's offensive has already
liquidated or put out of action a num
ber of important Awami League leaders.
Others, at the first sight of mortar fire,
fled across the border to form the so
called "Provisional Government" in the
safe haven of West Bengal. From the
published reports, messages received
from our colleagues on the scene and
interviews with Bengalis who have returned
from West Bengal, it appears that the
"Provisional Government" is firmly in the
grip of the Indian government, which has
prevented the At from including any
leftists in it, and Which has carefully
scrutinized the guerrillas training on
Indian soil. Besides having nominal ties
with the Mukti Fouj or Mukti Bahini
[Liberation Army], consisting of the
Bengali elements of the former East
Pakistan Rifles and Bengal Regiment,
the Provisional Government is mainly
occupied with obtaining international
recognition, appealing to the humani
tarianism of the people of the world
and co-sponsoring conferences on genocide
with Western liberal organizations.
As the struggle intensifies, there
is no doubt that the legitimacy of the
Awami League will be progressively
eroded. The legitimacy gained as a result
of an election vic;tory will no longer be
relevant. The new legitimacy will have
to be gained in the battlefield and it
is here that the Awami League has been
weakest.
The Left Groups
The inability of the petty-bourgeois
Awami League to lead armed struggle for
independence is readily recognized by
most observers of the Pakistani scene.
Given the class make-up of East Bengali
society, a tradition of working class
militancy, and the change in the nature
of struggle since March 25, if the inde
pendence of Bangladesh does not come
about quickly as a result of the economic
collapse of West Pakistan or Indo
Pakistan war or big power pressure, it
seems likely that the leadership of the
movement will pass to the revolutionary
left.
12
Before considering the possibility
of the transformation of the Bengali
nationalist movement into a genuine
revolutionary national liberation strug
gle, it is useful to glance at the state
of the left in East Bengal. After the
banning of the Communist Party in 1954,
party workers either operated under
ground or inside the Awami League and
the small left-liberal Ganatantri Dal.
In 1957, the leftist faction of the
Awami League, with its component of
communists, left the party in protest
against its pro-Western foreign policy.
It then merged with the Ganatantri Dal
and various nationalist parties in
West Pakistan to form the National
Awami Party (NAP) under the leadership
of the Bengali peasant leader, Mau1ana
Bhashani. Little is known about the
underground activities of the Commun
ist Party. However, many communists
were active in the trade unions, the
Krishnik Samity [peasants' committee],
the East Pakistan Students' Union,
various cultural bodies and other mass
organizations.
Differences appeared among the com
munists over the Sino-Soviet ideological
dispute, the Sino-Indian border clash
of 1962 and the Indo-Pakistan war of
1965. By the beginning of 1968, both
the underground party and the NAP had
split into "pro-Moscow" and "pro-Peking"
factions. The "pro-Moscow" wing of the
NAP was led by Wali Khan, a Pathan lead
er, on the national level and by Prof.
Muzaffar Ahmed, a long time communist,
in East Pakistan. Maulana Bhashani be
came the national leader of the "pro
Peking" wing of the NAP. The under
ground organization of the "pro-Moscow"
communists was headed by Moni Singh, a
veteran of peasant revolts of the 1940's.
Whereas the policies of the "pro-Moscow"
communists remained consistent with
the declaration of the 1960 Moscow con
ference of 81 communist parties,39 the
so-called "pro-Peking" group, despite
its revolutionary rhetoric, failed to
offer a coherent alternative program.
The esteem and organization of the
"pro-Peking" leftists were seriously
damaged by their reluctance to oppose
the dictatorial regime of Ayub Khan
and to clearly support the demand for
East Pakistan's autonomy. Mau1ana Bha
shani's idiosyncracies had alienated
many radical members of the NAP and the
Krishik Samity. The country-wide mass
spontaneous upsurge in 1968-69 brought
the conflicts among the pro-Peking left
ists into the open. Those advocating
the formation of a genuine working class
party separated themselves from the NAP
and split into at least three major
factions in 1970. The Pabna-based Matin
Allaudin group called itself the Purbo
Bang1a Communist Party; the Toha-Abdu1
Huq group, based mainly in Jessore and
Noakhali , presented itself as the East
Pakistani counterpart of the West Ben
gali Naxalites and assumed the name of
East Pakistan Communist Party (Marxist
Leninist); and two former student lead
ers, Kazi Zafar Ahmed and Rashid Khan
Menon, formed the Communist Revolution
aries' East Bengal Co-ordinating Commit
tee (C.R.E.B.C.C.). All of them opposed
participation in the elections. The
E.P.C.P. (M-L) even rejected mass and
class organizations and concentrated
on organizing guerrilla actions agains t
class enemies in the countryside.
40
Those staying with Bhashani did so
mainly because of their interest in the
elections. Thus when Bhashani withdrew
his party from the elections and demand
ed independence for East Pakistan in
the wake of the devastating cyclone of
November 1970, a large number of party
leaders, including Haji Danesh and An
war Zahid, left the NAP.41
The "pro-Peking" left was in a
state of complete disarray when the mili
tary launched its offensive against the
Bengali people in March 1971. As a re
sult of the military action, tactical
differences in the left began to dis
appear, and it was expected that the
left would once again forge its unity
on the basis of a program for armed
national liberation. However, personal
differences among the leaders led to
the further fragmentation of the exist
ing factions. Bhashani, despite his age
(89), managed to escape to India and
urged the world leaders to recognize the
Provisional Government set up by the
Awami League 1eaders.
42
He also met with
the leaders of all "Maoist" factions,
13
except the E.P.C.P.(M-L), on April 25
to press for the formation of a Nation
al Liberation Front.
43
On June 1 these
groups announced the formation of the
"Bangladesh National Liberation Strug
gle Co-ordination Committee," urged the
formation of a national liberation front
of all parties, including the Awami
League, and issued a declaration which
called for the establishment of an "anti
imperialist, anti-feudal and anti-monop
oly" so cial sys tem in Bangladesh. 44
Pro-MOscow leaders, Muzaffar Ahmed
and Moni Singh--the latter having es
caped from the Rajshani prison--endors
ed the Awami League's Provisional Gov
ernment and extended their cooperation
to the League and the Mukti Bahini
(Awami League-affiliated liberation
army) ., without publicly calling for
the formation of a national liberation
front.
The E. P. C. P. (M-L), unlike the other
"Maois ts" and the pro-Mos caw communis ts ,
termed the struggle in East Bengal a
conflict between the West Pakistani
monopoly capitalists and the East Pak
istani nascent bourgeoisie. They remain
ed inside East Bengal and refused to
have any contact with the Awami League
and the Indian government. Their atti
tude was interpreted by their critics
as Peking-directed opposition to the
independence movement. Many non-Commun
ist reporters have carried stories con
cerning E.P.C.P. 's encounters with the
Pakistan Army and cooperation with Mukti
Bahini at the local level.
45
But Prof.
Muzaffar Ahmed insists that the party
does not support independence and that
their actions consist only of killing
landlords and distributing land to the
peasants. 46
The organizational strength of the
E.P.C.P.(M-L) and the support it is
capable of drawing from its Naxalite
comrades across the border have worried
the Indian government, the AL and the
pro-Moscow communists. The Indian
government fears a radical Marxist, es
pecially Maoist, Bangladesh on its bor
ders. The Indian leaders have made it
clear in their pronouncements that they
want an Awami League-led government
installed in Bangladesh. Such a gov
ernment will be similar to their own
in terms of its class character and
ideology. The AL hopes for a quick vic
tory--preferably the result of an Indo
Pakistan war--to establish its rule before
it has lost its legitimacy. The pro
Moscow communists, who are quite adept
at forming united fronts with bourgeois
parties, would prefer a route to inde
pendence which ensured increased Indian
and Awami League dependence on the So
viet Union.
The signing of the 20-year Friend
ship Treaty between India and the Soviet
Union, which was necessitated, among
other thing, by the continuing U.S. and
Chinese support for Pakistan, represents
a significant victory for Soviet strat
egy in the region. Soon after the sign
ing of the treaty, the Awami League,
under pressure from New Delhi, agreed
to the formation of a five-party Consul
tative Committee of Bangladesh Struggle.
This committee, which is expected to be
the precursor of a united front, gives
pro-Moscow communists representation
out of proportion to their strength.
It includes one member each from the
pro-Moscow Bangladesh Communist Party
and its front organization, the NAP
(Muzaffar). Maulana Bhashani has been
included in it in an individual capa
city because of his enormous popularity
and for creating a facade of all-party
representation. The Hindu Bangladesh
National Congress, which had submerged
itself in the AL, also has one repre
sentative. The Awami League has four
members. All members of the committee
have accepted the all-Awami League
Provisional Government as the sole legit
imate authority in Bangaldesh. All "Mao
ist" groups, which had originally called
for the formation of a national libera
tion front, have been excluded from the
Consultative Committee.
The strategy of the pro-Moscow com
munists seems to be consistent with their
policy of achieving "independent nation
al democracy" as the first stage of the
two-stage socialist revolution. The
independence of Bangladesh is supposed
to accomplish only the first stage in
this process of transition. One of the
14
two main ingredients of this line, as
applied to the present situation, is
the acceptance of the hegemony of the
Awami League, as discussed earlier. The
other important ingredient is the pur
suance of a military strategy which does
not entail radicalization of the masses.
Both the Awami League and the pro-MOs
cow left consider self-sustained and
protracted guerrilla warfare inimical
to their interests since such strategy
will not only postpone the independence
of Bangladesh but will require intense
ideological education of the masses and
create conditions favorable to the more
radical "Maoist" groups. A slight pro
longation of the struggle, however,
will enable the pro-MOscow left to take
advantage of the inertia of the Awami
League leadership, consolidate its in
fluence in the Hukti Bahini and among
the Awami League political cadres, and
acquire greater leverage within the
coalition. The gains thus made will
presumably place the pro-MOscow commun
ists in a favorable position to carry
independent Bangladesh toward the path
of independent national democracy and
eventually toward socialism.
The military strategy employed by
the Awami League and the pro-MOs cow left
at this stage has consisted mainly of
the Mukti Bahini commandos and leftist
guerrillas disrupting the communications
and power supply in the interior and the
Mukti Bahini regulars, operating from
sanctuaries in India, making incursions
along the border and trying to hold a
few liberated areas. It is quite ob
vious that the Bangladesh coalition
does not envisage Mukti Bahini alone de
feating the Pakistani army. It will re
quire lengthy training and costly equip
ment for the Mukti Bahini regulars to
become a match for the BO,OOO-strong
well-trained and well-equipped occupa
tion army of Pakistan. The Bangladesh
strategy, therefore, implies involve
ment of Indian troops against the Pak
istani army at some point. The chances
of Indian intervention grow in direct
proportion to the erosion of the Awami
League's legitimacy and the radicaliza
tion of the liberation movement. Un
less the Bangladesh crisis is solved
quickly, the chances of having a friend
ly petty-bourgeois regime in East Ben
gal will be greatly reduced. Interna
tional support for India's actions can
come mainly from the Soviet-bloc coun
tries. Acceptance of pro-Moscow commun
ists in the Bangladesh coalition is,
therefore, a small price to pay for
Soviet material and moral support in a
venture designed to protect the class
interests of the Indian rulers.
For the success of Soviet strat
egy in South Asia--which includes dom
ination of the Indian Ocean and contain
ment of Chinese influence, it is more
important to have friendly and depen
dent--preferably petty-bourgeois-commun
ist coalition--governments than equality
and freedom for the peoples of the re
gion. Ceylon, where the pro-MOscow
communists have formed a coalition gov
ernment with the petty-bourgeois Sri
Lanka Freedom Party, is the archetype
of the kinds of governments the Soviets
would like to have in Bangladesh and
India. Such a development would consti
tute a major breakthrough for the Soviet
policy of establishing a regional se
curity alliance against China, first
propounded in June 1969.
The growing Soviet influence in
South Asia makes it imperative for the
United States to not only attempt a
neutralization of India, Ceylon and
Bangladesh, but to strengthen its stran
glehold in West Pakistan. This leaves
China limited alternatives in the region.
It is difficult for China to support
the independence of Bangladesh, since
such independence is likely to streng
then the Indo-Soviet front against her.
On the other hand, despite friendly
state relations between Pakistan and
China, the West Pakistani ruling oli
garchy is unmistakably fascist and pro
imperialist. China's denunciations of
India notwithstanding, she is not ex
pected to involve herself militarily on
Pakistan's side. Unlike 1965 when the
Chinese diverted India from launching
a major assault against Pakistan, today
China feels seriously threatened by
possible Soviet moves against her terri
tory and her nuclear installations.
15
The dilemna of China is reflected
in the dilemna of the Bangladesh "Mao
ists." The objective conditions in
Bangladesh offer an opportunity of car
rying out a protracted people's war
which would radicalize the masses and
allow the development of revolutionary
infrastructures during the course of
struggle. But such developments are con
trary to the interests of the East
Bengali petty-bourgeoisie, the Indian
ruling classes and the Soviet Union.
The "Maoists" know that if independence
comes quickly as a result of Indo-Soviet
pressure, it will substitute new ex
ploiters for the old. But at the same
time they cannot sit idly by and watch
their country being ravaged, their
people being slaughtered and their women
being raped by the fascist hordes from
West Pakistan.
Whether or not the Chinese openly
support the "Maoist" insurrectionists
in Bangladesh, the E.P. C. P. (M-L) and
other "Maoists" are likely to continue
building bases, training guerrillas,
forming administrative infrastructures
in the villages and eliminating class
enemies. The AL-pro-Moscow coalition,
which has now excluded the "Maois ts ,"
will have to face the reality of their
presence. If an accommodation is not
brought about soon enough, an indepen
dent Bangladesh will most likely be
ripe for a civil war of its own in
which Soviet and Indian arms, supplied
to the AL-pro-Moscow coalition, may be
used against the "Maoist" peasants de
manding radical restructuring of the
society in place of the Awami League's
parliamentary democracy and the pro
Moscow communists' "independent nation
al democracy."
FOOTNOTES
Editor's note: This article was com
pleted prior to the outbreak of the
Indo-Pakistan war.
1. The most authentic report of the
genocide is to be found in the account
of a West Pakistani journalist, Anthony
Mascarenhas: "Genocide: Why the Refu
gees Fled," Sunday Times, June 13, 1971;
for a reliable account of the conditions
of the refugees, see Congressman Galla
gher's testimony in Congressional Record,
June 11, 1971.
2. See Gunnar Myrdal, Asian Drama,
Pantheon, New York, 1968, Vol. I, p.234
244; and Tariq Ali, Pakistan: Military
Rule or People's Power?, William Morrow
& Co., New York, 1970, pp. 25-36.
3. For a discussion of the military
and the bureaucracy as semi-autonomous
social forces, see Harnza Alavi, "Army
and Bureaucracy in Pakistan," Interna
tional Socialist Journal, March-April,
1966.
4. Since the launching of the mili
tary operation in East Bengal, the
Government of Pakistan has engaged in a
wild propaganda war which attempts to
disprove the widely accepted facts
about the economic exploitation of East
Bengal. As part of this propaganda, the
Government controlled news agency, PPI,
released an item which was printed in
all the Pakistani papers on June 14,
1971 and circulated by Pakistani mis
sions abroad. It read in part as follows:
"The lates t figures of trade between
East and West Pakistan disprove the myth
West Pakistan has turned East Pakistan
into a market for its industrial pro
ducts." Even if the figures used for
this story are taken at face value, the
surplus of East Pakistan's export of
manufactures over that of the West Pak
istan amounts to only Rs. 100,000 for
the year 1969-70, whereas the overall
surplus of West Pakistani exports comes
to Rs. 740 million. Two additional facts
regarding inter-regional trade need to
be taken into account: (1) East Pakis
tan's largest item of export to West
Pakistan, i.e. tea, is counted as a
manufactured good and (2) most of the
industry and plantations in East Pakis
tan are owned by West Pakistanis and
foreigners anyway. No amount of statis
tical juggling can change the facts
about colonialism.
5. Figures cited in Mason, Dorfman
and Marglin, "Conflict in East Pakistan:
Background and Prospects," Congressional
Record, April 7, 1971.
6. This well-known statement has
been quoted widely, including in the
U.S. government's manual for military
personnel: Area Handbook For Pakistan,
DA Pam No. 550-48, Washington, D. C. :
16
I
Superintendent of Documents, October
1965, p. 339.
7. America's late President Kennedy,
quoted by Harry Magdoff in The Age of
Imperialism, MOnthly Review Press,
New York, 1969, p. 117.
8. Magdoff, op. cit.
9. Hamz a Alavi, IIpakistan: the Bur
den of U.S. Aid," in Imperialism and
Underdevelopment, edited by Robert I.
Rhodes, Monthly Review Press, New York,
1970.
10. M.A. Sattar, United States Aid
and Pakistan's Economic
unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Tufts
University, 1969.
11. For a discussion of the role of
Harvard's Development Advisory Service
in Pakistan, see "Underdeveloping the
World," a pamplet prepared by students
and movement research people in Cam
bridge, Mass.; reprinted in Forum
(Dacca), September 26, 1970.
12. Hamz a Alavi, IIpakis tan: the
Burden of U.S. Aid," op. cit.
13. Gustav Papanek, Pakistan's
Development, Harvard University Press,
Canbridge, 1967, p. 226.
14. Among the numerous favorable re
ports and commentaries about Pakistan's
economic development, one needs special
mention, i.e. the World Bank-sponsored
Pearson Report: Lester B. Pearson, Part
in Development, Praeger, New York,
1969.
15. Edward S. Mason, Economic Develop
ment in India and Pakistan, Center for
International Affairs, Harvard University,
no. 13, September 1966. M.A. Sattar's re
cent study showed that Pakistan's economic
growth rate would have been much slower
without U.S. aid.
16. This widely quoted revelation by
Pakistan's Chief Economist, Mahbub-ul Haq,
appears in a number of places, including
"Underdeveloping the World," op. cit.
17. For a discussion of the consequen
ces of Pakistan's model of economic devel
opment, see Arthur MacEwan, "Contradictions
in Capitalist Development: the Case of
Pakistan," paper read at the Conference
on Economic Growth and Distributive Justice
in Pakistan, University of Rochester,
July 29-31, 1970; abstract published in
Pakistan Forum, October-November 1970.
18. A.R. Khan, "A New Look at Dispar
ity," Forum, January 3, 1970.
19. A confidential report on regional
disparities singled out the policies of
t
the central government as the most im
t
,
f
portant cause of the widening gap between
the two regions: Government of East
Pakistan-Planning Department, Economic
Disparities between East and West Pakistan,
Officer on Special Duty, S. & G.A. Depart
ment, In-charge, East Pakistan Government
Press, Dacca, 1963, p. 15. For more recent
discussion of the governmental policies,
see several articles by Rahman Sobhan in
Forum: "Fourth Plan Fiasco," February 14,
1970; "Doing Justice in the Fourth Plan,"
June 6, 1970; "Forced Five Year Plan,"
June 13, 19701 and "Budget from the Past,"
July 11, 1970; also, a number of unsigned
articles in Forum: "Fourth Plan Maneuvers,"
November 29, 1969; "Finance Connnittee:
Accused as the Judge," May 23,1970;
"Budget Anti-Climax," July 4, 1970; and
"Past Panels and Committees: An Appraisal,"
September 5, 1970.
20. Papanek, op. cit.
21. Department of State and Department
of Defense, The Mutual Security Program
Fiscal Year 1958, Washington D.C., 1962,
Vol. I, p. 359.
22. M. Ayub Khan, Friends, Not Masters,
Oxford University Press, New York, 1967,
p. 59.
23. An authoritative account of the
language movement appears in Badruddin
Umar, The Language Movement in Eas t Ben
gal and its Contemporary Politics, [in
Bengali], published in November 1970;
English serialization of the book was
terminated by the events of February
March 1971 in East Pakistan. The first
installment appeared in Forum of February
20, 1971.
24. After declaring their independence,
the people of East Bengal adopted one of
Tagore's songs as their national anthem.
25. Pakistan Student, May-June 1967.
26. The recent massacre, flight and
purging of Bengali intelligentsia have
opened up many job opportunities for
unemployed West Pakistanis and promotions
for others. If the attitude of the West
Pakistani employees of the Pakistan Em
bassy in Washington is any indicator of
the mood of the West Pakistani educated
segment, the Bengal carnage has been
greeted as a blessing in that region.
27. These points are: 1) a federal and
parliamentary form of government, with
17
supremacy of the legislature, based on
direct adult franchise and proportional
representation, 2) the federal govern
ment to have responsibilities of de
fense and foreign policy only, 3) separate
currencies or other alternate means of
preventing the transfer of resources from
one region to the other, 4) fiscal policy
and power of taxation to be in the hands
of the regional governments, 5) regional
governments to control their foreign ex
change earnings and to have the power of
negotiating foreign aid and trade and
6) para-military forces to be provided
to the regions. For details, see A.H.M.
Kamruzzaman, Manifesto of All Pakistan
Awami League, Dacca, June 1970.
28. For a graphic account of the events
of 1968-69, see Tariq Ali, Ope cit.,
chapters V, VI, and VII.
29. Feroz Ahmed, "Vei1lee d' Armes Elec
torale au Pakistan," Africasia, November
9, 1970.
30. Feroz Ahmed, "The Struggle in West
Pakistan," manuscript prepared for a
forthcoming book to be published under
the sponsorship of the Committee of Con
cerned Asian Scholars; see also, General
Yahya Khan's statement of June 28, 1971,
Pakistan Affairs, June 30, 1971.
31. Rashed Akhtar, "From Non-cooperation
to the People's Raj," Forum, March 13,
1971.
32. The West Pakistani right-wing
parties not only insisted that the Awami
League be allowed to frame a constitution
on the basis of the six points but sup
ported the AL's four supplementary de
mands which included the transfer of the
interim government to the elected repre
sentatives, Pakistan Times, March 14, 1971.
33. Sheikh Mujibur Rahman's nationwide
television speech, Dawn, October 29, 1970.
34. Pakistan Affairs, March 31, 1971.
35. Tajuddin Ahmed's statement of April
17, 1971, mime0 , distributed by the Mission
of Bangladesh in Calcutta.
36. Pakistan [Affairs], May 11, 1971.
37. Pakistan Forum, June-July, 1971.
38. Yahya Khan's June 28 speech.
39. For the pro-Moscow position, see,
"Leninism is our Guide," World Marxist
Review, May, 1970.
40. For a critical analysis of the
splits in the East Bengali left, see the
three part article by A.H. Khan in Forum
(Dacca), December 19 and 26, 1970 and
January 2, 1971.
41. Most of these leaders have now re
fused to support independence and have
joined hands with West Pakistan-based
parties.
42. "Maulana Abdul Hamid Khan Bhashani 's'
Appeal to World Leaders," published by
the Provisional Government of Bangladesh.
43. Far Eastern Economic Review, May
15, 1971.
44. Sphulinga: Bulletin of the BangIa
Desh Association of Quebec, Vol. I, No.3.
45. Far Eastern Economic Review, April
4, 1 9 7 1 ~ n d Economist, July 10, 1971.
46. Interview with the author, Pakistan
Forum, October, 1971.
18
I
Table 1
I
Gross Domestic Product in 1959-60 Constant Prices
(in million rupees)
East West
1949-50 13 ,130 11 ,830
1954-55 14,320 14,310
1959-60 15,550 16,790
1964-65 18,014 21,788
1968-69 20,670 27,744
Sources: Gustav Papanek, Pakistan's Development, Harvard, 1967, p. 317; and A.R. Khan,
"A New Look at Disparity," Forum, January 3, 1970.
80 86
MAP OF
IPAOCIIS1rAN
I N D I
SEA
6'
80 86
19
Primary level
Number of insts.
Number of students
Secondary level
Institutions
Students
"General College
Institutions
Enrollment
General University
Institutions
Enrollment
Table 2
Educational Disparities
East Pakistan West Pakistan
1947 1967 1947 1967
29,633 28,225 8,413 33,271
2,020,000 4,310,000 550,000 2,740,000
3,481 4,390 2,598 4,563
53,000 107,000 51,000 153,000
50 173 40 239
19,000 138,000 13,000 142,000
1 2 2 4
1,600 8,000 700 10,000
Source: Ministry of Education, Government of Pakistan, Education Statistics of
Pakistan (1947-57); and A.O. Huque, "Educational Disparities in Pakistan," Forum,
December 20, 1969.
20
Table 3
Some Economic Indicators
Area (in square miles)
Population, (1970 estimate)
Five-year plan allocations
1st
2nd
3rd
4th (unlikely to be implemented)
Foreign aid allocation
Export earning
Import expenditure
Indust rial assets owned by Bengalis
Civil service jobs
Military jobs
Resources transferred from East
to Wes tbetween 1948-49 and 1968-69
Per capita income, official
1964-65
1968-69
Regional difference in p.c.i., official
1959-60
1964-65
1968-69
Real difference in p.c.i., 1968-69
East Pakistan
54,501
70 million
32%
32%
36%
52.5%
20-30%
50-70%
25-30%
11%
16-20%
10%
Rs.31,120 million
*
Rs. 285.5
Rs. 291. 5
32%
47%
62%
95%
West Pakistan
310,236
60 million
68%
68%
64%
47.5%
70-80%
30-50%
70-75%
80-84%
90%
Rs.419.0
Rs.473.4
21
Real difference in average standard
of living, 1968-69 126%
Proportion of income spent on food by
industrial workers (1955-56 survey) 69-75% 60-63%
*At the official rate, u.s. $1 = 4.76 rupees (Rs.); current market exchange rate,
$1 = Rs.1!.
Sources: Pakistan Statistical Yearbooks and Pakistan Economic Survey for the various
years, Government of East Pakistan (1963), Papanek (1967), A.R. Khan (1970), Interim
Reports (May 1970) and Forum (Feb. 27, 1971).
Table 4
Inter-regional trade (exports)
Year East Pakistan West Pakistan
(in millions of rupees)
1948-49 18.8 137.6
1950-51 46.0 210.8
1955-56 220.7 318.9
1960-61 355.9 BOO.5
1965-66 649.7 1,189.8
1969-70 915.7 1,656.2
Sources: Pakistan Economic Survey 1967-68 and Pakistan Times, June 14, 1971.
22
1
Noles OD Soalh Asia iD C.-isis
I
by Eqbal Ahmad
[This unfinished manuscript was mailed
one hour before Eqbal Ahmad went to
Harrisburg, Pennsylvania for his trial.]
To the Editors:
I am unable to fulfill my promise
to write a researched and thought-out
essay on the continuing South Asian cri
sis. Pressure of events has been prevent
ing me from sustained academic work. How
ever, I am deeply touched by your gesture
of sympathy and solidarity, and wish
to somehow be included among friends who
have contributed to this issue of the
Bulletin. I can imagine no tribute more
appropriate than this to the memory of
a committed Asian scholar, my only sur
viving brother, a comrade in hard times,
and the best of friends.
Here are a few reminiscences on the
doubts and decisions we faced following
March 25, 1971, when the Pakistani
generals began their criminal suppression
of the electoral verdict of the majority,
to save the "integrity" of the nation.
In the first few weeks of the conflict
while Saghir was still with us, we had
agreed on the fundamentals and thrashed
out our minor differences - on the phone,
at meetings in Seattle and subsequently,
toward the end of June, in New York City
where we met, for the last time, with
Feroz and Aijaz Ahmed to discuss how
we as Pakistani radicals should relate
to the crisis in our country. These
reminiscences are followed by my reac
tion to the Indian military interven
tion, and a few reflections on the chal
lenge of the future in Pakistan.
I hope this would convey at least
a sense of the complexities which char
acterized the conflict in the sub-conti
nent, and of the political paradoxes
and moral dilemnas it posed for us all.
In recent weeks I have felt, with in
creasing intensity, renewed contempt
for the academic experts, liberal poli
ticians, and professional peace-mongers
who propagandized the cause of Bangla
desh and of India with easy slogans,
misleading information, and incorrect
analysis. I am yet unable to fully
comprehend why the crisis in Bengal
aroused so much partisan passion among
the "humanitarians" who are not known
to have been particularly moved by the
massacre of Indonesians, the plight of
Palestinian refugees, or the genocide
of the Vietnamese and Laotians. As
persons who took extra risks to oppose
the criminal conduct of Pakistan's
military regime, I do not want that
Saghir and I be bracketed with those
supporters of Bangladesh.
I
On AprillO, 1971, the New York Times
published a statement signed by us
[Saghir and Eqb al Ahmad, ed.] jointly
with Aijaz and Feroz Ahmed. The army !tad
intervened to offset the results of Pak
istan'sfirst freely held national elec
tions, transforming the demand for
autonomy into a movement towards indepen
dence. Judging that a problem which owed
its existence to the militarization of
our society could not be solved by mili
tary means, we condemned the Pakistani
military regime, affirmed the Bengalis'
right of self-determination, and commit
ted ourselves to actively working for
the creation of a situation wherein the
people of East Bengal might indeed be
able to exercise this fundamental right.
In a subsequent article I explained the
reasons for taking this position. (New
York Review of Books, Volume XVII.
Number 3.) Here I should speak mainly
of the doubts we have had.
Arriving at this position was not
easy for us. We did not have natural
sympathies with the Bangladesh movement.
We distrusted the Awami League's bour
geois bias, elitist traditions, and pro
Western outlook. From the beginning,
Muslim nationalism in Bengal had two
distinct populist and elitist traditions.
The two had confronted each other occa
sionally, and often coexisted in a rela
tionship of antagonistic collaboration.
The former, represented in the 1930's
by men like A.K. Fazhid Haq, in the 50's
and 60 's by Abdul Hamid Bhashani, had
always played the primary role in mobil
izing the masses by supplying social and
economic content to political programs.
The elitist wing, led by men like Suh
rawardy (mentor of Sheikh Mujib), had
always succeeded in ultimately appro
priating, through powerful external
support like that of the British in the
1900' s and of the Muslim League national
leadership in the 1940's, the popular
cause for advancing vested interests.
As the successor and direct descendant
of the elitist tradition, the Awami
League elicited our ideological opposi
tion.
Its middle class composition, his
tory, and external connections only
augmented our suspicions. A reminder
is needed that the origins of the party
lie in its leaders' support for Pakis
tan's alliance with the U.S. Before 1957,
the old Awami League included the ele
ments of what is now the National Awami
Party, and Bhashani was its president.
tn 1956, at the Kagmari Conference, there
was a party split over the issue of al
liance with the U.S. The pro-U.S. fac
tion led by Suhrawardy and Sheikh Muj ib
took control of the Awami League; oppo
nents of the military alliance left and
later formed the National Awami Party.
At leas t since then, the party and
its leaders have maintained intimate
links with vested interests and insti
tutions, in the U.S. no less than in
West Pakistan. Unconfirmed reports
existed that since 1961 when India,
particularly the eastern regions of it,
became a special area for anti-Chinese
intelligence and subversive activities,
the League developed connections with
"friendly" elements there also. The
connecting links were frequently the
operatives of multi-national, inter
locked, corporations such as Pan Am and
Chase Manhattan, as well as the C. LA.
For example, well known to us was Yusuf
Haroon, a Pakistani "multi-national"
millionaire from New York who has now
admitted to keeping Sheikh Muj ib on his
payroll for 15 years (including during
his prison terms) and to providing the
Awami League, UJith the consent of GeneY'
aZ Yahya Khan, $300,000 in 1970 for
the fateful election campaign. (New
York Times, January 4, 1972). -
We were less impressed by the Awami
League's electoral victory than the for
mal results suggested. It occurred in
a virtually uncontested election since
Bhashani's N.A.P. boycotted it. However,
by giving the league a simple majority
in the national assembly the election
brought it a new esprit of power, and
disturbed the army's calculation of
cooling off Sheihk Muj ib with a conser
vative West Pakistani coalition. The
details of the Yahya-Mujib-Bhutto nego
tiation are now beginning to be known.
It appears that the army and the West
Pakistani politicians were willing to
accept the limitation of federal power
to Defense and Foreign Affairs provided
the authority of these two departments
were not denuded by giving to East Pak
istan the powers to raise a separate
militia and to regulate international
aid and trade (the Awami League's last
two of six points).
Our discomfort with the Awami League
was increased by the quickness with
which its leaders quit the interior of
East Bengal, the promptness with which
they established a provisional govern
ment in mythical Mujibnagar (the fastest
creation of a proviSional government in
the history of "liberation" movements!!) ,
and the warm reception they were accord
ed by the Indian government. It was
clear to us that if the Indian govern
ment did not feel confident of control
ling Bangladesh, it would not risk sup
porting a secessionist Bengali national
ist movement in the Pakistani half of
Bengal. However, until Saghir's death,
i.e., until after the signing of the
Indo-Soviet treaty of friendship in
August and the massive flow of Soviet
arms to India and the eastern front,
our "scenario" did not include a full
scale Indian invasion of East Bengal.
We had, nevertheless, viewed India
as holding the winning cards in the pro
visional government which claimed legit
imacy, and in the Mukti Bahini on the
frontier which was being equipped, ad
vised, and logistically supported by
India. Together, these two could chal
lenge any combination of guerrillas
inside East Bengal after the inevitable
defeat and withdrawal of the Pakistani
army. We underestimated the Awami
League's capacity for disintegration,
overestimated the Indian government's
sense of propriety, and failed to fathom
the depth of Russian commitment to
acquiring allies against China.
The press and public still do not
seem to understand U.S. policy toward
the crisis in the sub-continent. It will
take an article to analyze this classic
case of realpolitik and good example of
how Dr. Kissinger's theories translate
in practice. At first, Washington's pol
icy of seemingly supporting Pakistan
baffled us. Then it began to become
clear that the U.S. was more interested
in giving the Pakistani army an illusion
of support than in actually aiding their
military effort. For example, U.S. arms
aid and sales to Pakistan in 1971 amount
ed to less than $30 million according
to independent sources, to $5 million
according to Dr. Kissinger's December 7
"backgrounder." Throughout the crisis
the U.S. maintained the unpopular pos
ture of appearing to favor the military
junta. Yet at no point did Washington
provide the junta with concrete, as
contrasted with psychological, aid cor
responding to its needs. Obviously,
geo-political considerations dictated
that Washington should have little inter
est in assuring the unity of Pakistan.
In fact, since April 1971 the Nixon
government had assumed that Islamabad
would lose East Bengal -- a prospect
not dreaded by the U.S. because Bangla
desh as an Indian protectorate could
be safely assumed to become at worst a
Russian base against China, at best a
client of the U.S.
West Pakistan, on the other hand,
is crucial to the Nixon-Kissinger
strategy of creating in the oil center
of the world, the Mediterranean and In
dian Ocean regions, a new configuration
of power, independent of Western Europe
but dependent on the U.S.A., from Spain
and Portugal through Greece and Israel
to Iran and West Pakistan. Hence a pol
icy designed not so much to help out a
bogged down or beleagured ally, but to
keep a client hooked, with spare parts
and moral support, into the system of
dependence. Whether or not Z.A. Bhutto
has the inclination and courage to cut
the umbilical cord and defeat this pol
icy remains to be seen.
There were personal factors which
may have reinforced our doubts. We grew
up during the independence movement for
Pakistan and had lost our homes, friends,
and kin during the conflict for its
creation. It was hard for us not to wish
that the two Pakistans would maintain
some organic links and their peoples
somehow would struggle together toward
a socialist society.
Finally, Saghir and I were agonized
over the fate of the Bihari minority in
Bengal. Biharis ourselves, we knew the
anguish of these people who had to move
two or three times since 1946 to escape
massacres in India, and had finally
found haven in Pakistan to which they
remained loyal. Homeless, Urdu speaking,
hated by Bengalis, favored by West Pak
istanis in the east, they were caught in
the middle. Throughout March, before the
military intervention and while the Awami
League had de facto control of government,
some 10,000 of them were massacred by
Bengali zealots. Later, the military
cited these massacres as the reason for
its brutal intervention, and the govern
ment's White Paper of August 1971 gave
exaggerated accounts and figures (100,000
killed) on them.
We were appalled by the irresponsi
bility of the Awami League, and mourned
the death of the luckless Biharis among
whom were several relatives. But we were
not willing to equate the actions of
Bengali vigilantes with those of the
government and the criminal acts of an
organized, professional army. In any
case, the army could not provide lasting
25
security for them. In fact, it did not
even intervene to stop their massacres
which went on for three weeks while the
Generals sought extra-parliamentary deals
with the politicians. Saving civilian
lives was not the motive behind the ar
my's vast repressions. Furthermore, un
equal bartering of brutalities is not a
function of responsible government. And
criminality is not a commercial proposi
tion: one cannot deposit the crimes of
one into the account of another. The
very fact that the military regime sought
justifications for its behavior by re
ferring to the excesses of the Awami
League and the aroused Bengali masses
was a measure of the steep decline in
the civic standards of our army and
civil services.
In sum, we had a sense that support
ing the Bengali right of self-determina
tion was ethically and politically nec
essary. Yet it was not an anti-imperial
ist struggle. In fact, the forseeable
consequences of the junta's irrational,
fascistic policy were to advance the ex
pansionist designs of India, the power
hunger of the U.S.S.R., and the imperial
interests of the U.S.A. Given a choice
between infantile Bengali bourgeois
nationalism and fascistic Pakistani mil
itarism, we decided to concentrate on
opposing the military regime.
II
Now I must condemn India's massive
military intervention. It violates the
U.N. charter and reinforces the dangerous
trend set by imperial powers toward
direct foreign interventions in civil
conflicts. How reprehensible the inter
national community deemed the Indian ac
tion is best indicated by the overwhelm
ing vote in the U.N., including those
of India's staunch allies, Yugoslavia
and Egypt. That India ignored the U.N.
resolution was a witness to its disre
gard of international opinion, and
another reminder of the helplessness of
humanity confronted with aggression.
Itself threatened by centrifugal
forces, the Indian government does not
view with favor demands for regional
autonomy, much less secession. Hence
regardless of human costs, India sup
ported the Nigerian Federal Government
against Biafra. The sword of central
authority has fallen swiftly on recalci
trant peoples in India. West Bengal, the
Indian half of BangIa Desh, has been re
peatedly subjected to military inter
vention and, currently under direct Fed
eral rule, is the scene of widespread
and systematic repression of the left.
Its people share with East Bengalis a
contiguous boundary, a common culture
and language, and the fate of being an
overpopulated, undernourished mass de
prived of their rightful place in na
tional government. Only religion (Hin
du and Muslim) and competing nationalisms
(Hindu and Muslim) separate them. A
sovereign, secular, and socialist
Bengladesh can be enormously attractive
to the Marxist majority of West Bengal,
and threaten the 'integrity' of India.
To prevent this, India must keep BangIa
Desh in bonds and make it a hinterland
of West Bengal rather than a beacon to
its Bengali future.
The power of the East Bengali people
cannot flow out of the barrel of Indian
guns. The direct military intervention
is intended to promote an Indian pro
tectorate rather than a genuinely inde
pendent Bangladesh. It is aimed at prop
ping the dwindling power of India's
Bengali clients - the Awami League and
communist (Moscow-oriented) leaders in
exile; and the conventionally-trained
frontier Babini constituted partially
by Indian-trained elements but mainly
by the East Pakistan Rifles and East
Bengal Regiment which, by May, had re
grouped in India after breaking a:way
from the Pakistan army. It seeks to off
set the growing strength of the nascent,
but progressively radical, self-reliant
~ , :
guerrillas who were inducted in the in
terior by leftists who, unlike the
Awami Leaguers and their [conventional]
frontier Babini, did not flee the inter
ior of Bengal for the relative security
of Indian sanctuaries.
India claims its intervention is
motivated by its commitment to self
determination, and concern over the ref
ugees. It is incredible that self-deter
mination is invoked as a justification
26
for war by a government which forcibly
occupies Kashmir and denies its people
the plebiscite pledged by India and
sanctioned by the U.N., a government
which has suppressed the Naga and Mizo
peoples' juridically just struggle
against Indian annexation with a vio
lence little publicized but more pro
longed and no less brutal than that of
the Pakistani junta in Bengal.
Deeply moved by their plight but
unaware of the complexities of the ref
ugees' problem in the sub-continent,
world opinion accepts them as a credible
justification for war. Yet, Mrs. Gan
dhi's outright rejection of U Thant' s
proposal indicated that the goal of
dismembering Pakistan took priority
over the refugees' welfare and return.
While sympathetic U.S. Senators were
given guided tours of the refugee camps,
severe limits were imposed by India on
international relief organizations, pre
venting reliable estimates on the actual
number of refugees.
Full-scale war will aggravate suffer
ing and create more refugees. Apart from
indeterminable war victims, at least four
million stranded minorities (Bengalis
in West, non-Bengalis in East Pakistan)
may be massacred unless there is a set
tlement negotiated with provisions for
these peoples. Furthermore, military
victory in East Pakistan will not elim
inate India's refugee burden. The bulk
of the refugees, being Hindu, are un
likely to return to predominantly Mus
lim Bengal in the foreseeable future.
And unless massacred, more than two
million Bihari in BangIa Desh can now
only return to India (they came to East
Pakistan as refugees) where their pres
ence might spark fresh communal riots.
Prominent Americans who invoke the
refugee problem to justify Indian mili
tary intervention are either irrespon
sible apologists of India or ignorant
of the complexities of communal conflicts
in the sub-continent.
The U.S. administration has deceived
J the public so often that few can believe
it. American aid to the Pakistani junta,
however negligible to its actual needs,
only encouraged its intransigence in
t
coming to a quick settlement. Yet I know
Dr. Kissinger's recent assertion to be
true. By summer's end the Generals had
begun bending to seek a settlement. Be
set by the pressures of massive Soviet
armaments, Indian troops on the frontier,
inflation and growing resistance at home,
by October they were willing to concede
the autonomy which in March they had so
brutally tried to prevent. Important
Bengali leaders were initially interested
but -- abjectly dependent on Delhi -
began refusing discussions on any terms
except immediate and total independence.
Indian military moves put an end to the
dim hopes of settlement. As always,
outside intervention stifled the restor
ative capacity and adjustive ability of
a people torn by civil conflict.
Separation of East Bengal from Pak
istan is now a reality, and represents
the first needed break in South Asia
from the alien, colonial tradition of
centralism. What is needed now is an
orderly transfer of power, permitting
the exchange of imprisoned and stranded
persons, safeguarding the safety of
minorities, and assuring the majority
peoples their inalienable rights. The
roots of conflict in the sub-continent
lie in the two subcontinental govern
ments' forcible suppression of public
demands, and in politicians appropriat
ing popular causes for advancing vest
ed interests. The people of East Pakis
tan voted for autonomy which the mili
tary tried to prevent. But the Bengali
clients of India did not have the man
date to proclaim independence from be
hind Indian tanks. Similarly, Kashmiris
do not wish to live under Indian occupa
tion, but I am not sure that they wish
to join Pakistan. In both cases, as in
Nagaland, only free and internationally
supervised elections can determine wheth
er the peoples concerned want autonomy
or independenoe
3
federation or oonfedera
tion. Peace may begin to have a chance
in the sub-continent when the peoples
of these ravaged lands have exercised
their right of self-determination.
III
Chroniclers will record December 17,
1971, as the day of the dismemberment
I
27
of Pakistan. Historians will say that
the destruction of the country, as con
ceived and constituted by its founding
fathers, began on the night of March 25.
From that moment, the movement toward
disaster was inexorable, for the men who
held our destiny were oblivious to rea
son of politics, diplomacy, morality,
and military strategy. Eight months
later, that is, some 250,000 dead per
sons, millions of displaced citizens,
thousands of raped women and orphaned
children later, the disintegration of
Pakistan climaxed in the surrender of
100,000 soldiers and civilians and the
betrayal of millions who had, out of
choice or necessity, remained loyal to
the state. Few nations can claim a chap
ter so dark in history. To honor our
past and for the sake of our future,
we must ask why it happened?
We welcome the appointment by Mr.
Bhutto of a Commission to inquire into
the causes of Pakistan's present pre
dicament. Yet we fear the prevailing
tendency to put blames on blundering in
dividuals who, in fact, were mere agents
of the forces that caused the crisis.
The Commission will fail in its histor
ic obligation if it does not examine
the roots of the problem and satisfies
instead the passions of the moment by
finding scapegoats.
We must recognize that the disaster
occurred because we permitted it to
develop. The excesses of the Awami
League notwithstanding, the issues were
relatively clear cut, the inhumanity of
the military intervention unquestionable,
and, from the start, its consequences
obvious to anyone who dared to think.
Yet few educated citizens at home or
ab road had the clairvoyance or the cour
age to disrupt their lives, jeopardize
their ambitions, and take risks to chal
lenge the junta they are so vocifer
ously condemning today. Almost to the
last day of ignominious surrender, no
leader of importance seriously question
ed the basic premises of the junta's
policies. In that sense many who are
now calling for the trial of Yahya and
his cronies are not free of complicity
in the crimes against the country and
its people. Finding scapegoats, surro
gates of our crippled sensibilities and
bruised consciences, will serve no good
purpose. To the contrary, it may prevent
the needed concentration on fundamentals.
The fundamental cause of the crisis
lies in the betrayal of our people's
ideals of Pakistan. The common muslims'
struggle for a state was based on their
longing for a society free of oppression,
injustice and inequality. When the mus
lim masses rallied to the appeal of an
Islamic state, it was their way of say
ing that they wanted a good state and
just government. Hence Muslim national
ism had earlier and stronger popular
roots in those regions -- like Bengal
where the oppressor class was largely
Hindu. For the muslim elite, however,
Pakistan meant the end of hindu compe
tition and the establishment of its
own monopoly of power and privileges.
The tragedy of Pakistan lies in the fact
that for 23 years this elite, consisting
of landlords and capitalists, bureau
crats and military men, held on to its
privileges at the expense of the people
and clung to power at the cost of par
ticipation. The lesson we must draw is
that only the total transformation of
Pakistan's economic and social struc
t ure will provide the basis for con
structing a progressive, just and dur
able new order.
The sub-continent' s worst colonial
heritage was consecrated in Pakistan.
We were ruled in the vice-regal tradi
tion of executive centralism. When per
mitted to exist, the legislature was
required to be a rubber stamp. Indepen
dent judiciary was judged a liability
and emas culated. Power was concentrated
in the bureaucracy and the army, both
trained and tested by colonial Britain
and aided and armed by imperial America.
The poor were disenfranchized; government
was unaccountable to the public. The
callousness of our rulers was undiscrim
inating. Yet the more disadvantaged
people of East Pakistan could only com
prehend their condition as caused by
regional discrimination. Their efforts
to exercise their rights as a majority
people were subverted in 1954, 1956,
1958, and 1968. In 1971 they were utter
ly brutalized.
28
In order for Pakistan to prosper in
freedom and dignity we must withdraw the
power presently vested in the army and
bureaucracy and restructure both insti
tutions. Our armed forces are better
trained to occupy the country than to
defend it. The bureaucracy is raised to
rule the people, not to serve them. Their
colonial ethos, authoritarian structure,
mediocre standards, and managerial out
look were suited to the service of their
foreign mentors, and are unfit for a
modern, independent nation. They must be
transformed into popular, participatory
institutions emanating from and account
able to the people, capable of defending
the country, and serving the public. I
hope that our defeat at the hands of an
equally obsolete, if more numerous and
gadget-heavy, Indian army will compel
I
!
1
I
j
us to creativity and innovation rather
than to put on more military fat and to
harden the authoritarian arteries of
the bureaucracy.
Similarly, I hope that renewed quest
for national unity will not lead us
again toward mindless centralization. We
are still a diverse country united by
culture, religion, nationality and a
yearning for justice, equality and free
dom. Diverse lands like Pakistan do not
respond to European models of "integra
t ion." Nor can genuine regional griev
ances be suppressed by the repressive
arms of government. Respect for region
al cultures and traditions, and maximum
local autonomy within the framework of
popular, national planning are the
requisites of unity and strength.
Pakistan is perhaps the best example of how foreign
military and economic aid can destroy a nation. Yet so few
Americans understand the U.S. role in the present political
crisis and human tragedy of Pakistan.
Fortunately there is one publication that can help you
in understanding the nature of struggle in Pakistan before
U.S. B-52s and napalm open your eyes to another Viet Nam.
It just happens that PAKISTAN FORUM is published overseas.
It. therefore has the distinction of being the only English
language publication of Pakistanis which is not controlled
by Pakistan's Fascist military junta.
For news, views and perspectives on Pakistan and other
third world countries, read PAKISTAN FORUM.
Subscription rate for the second volume (12 issues) $7.00
Pakistan F o]["uJtn
P.O.Box 1198
Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario
Canada
29
The CODiDlaaist MoveDieat ia ladia
\
by Mohan Ram
Non-aligned India has been the focal
point of the super-power d ~ t e n t e . The
Soviet Union has been interested in fore
closing a revolution in India because
it regards India as the very model of
"national democracy" which lends itself
to peaceful transition to socialism.
Besides, the Soviet Union, like the
United States, wants a stable, viable
India to ensure a continuing Asian con
frontation with China. Both the super
powers have tried to underwrite India
in order to ensure that it is not
convulsed by revolution. As India has
been drawn into the vortex of the super
power game to contain China, its non
alignment has lapsed into double align
ment.
India's economic dependence on
both super-powers has grown steadily.
M>re than 20 years of s tate economic
planning (hailed by Soviet ideologues
as non-capitalist development through
state intervention) have culminated in
a serious economic and political
crisis. Foreign aid accounts for one
fifth of the total investment in
development for India's three completed
five year plans, and this component
has been steadily increasing. Foreign
aid accounted for 10 percent of the
investment for the first five year
plan, 24 percent for the second, and
over 30 percent for the third. The
fourth plan had to be suspended for
four years because of aid uncertainties
and a recession in the economy.
State planning for development
implies state intervention in the econ
omy. Yet after three plans, about nine
tenths of India's domestic production
was still at the disposal of the private
sector, while the government's share
increased by a mere four percent ,during
this period. The private sector has
grown phenomenally over the past twenty
years. Its growth resulted partly from
the heavy state sector outlays for econ
omic infrastructural assets, which
provided new markets for private firms.
Once constructed, these assets t h e ~
selves helped create external economies
for the private sector.
State intervention in India has
resulted in concentration and monopoly
of economic power in private hands. As
of 1963-64, the top 75 monopoly houses,
each with assets exceeding Rs. 50 mil
lion (about U.S. $7 million at present
rates of exchange) held 46.9 percent of
total private assets excluding banks.
1
Inequities of income in the country at
large were revealed in a study in 1967
which showed that in 1960-61, 2.3
percent of the urban population and
0.9 percent of the rural population
received incomes ranging from comfortable
to affluent. By contrast 85.6 percent of
town dwellers and 86.9 percent of vil
lagers lived "in a situation which is
hardly to be defined even euphemistically
as one of bare subsistence".2
State power in India resides in an
alliance of the bourgeoisie and the
landlords. Such an alliance cannot
promote anti-imperialist, anti-ieudal
or anti-monopoly policies. In spite of
its official objective of achieving a
"socialistic pattern of society", state
intervention in India has created con
ditions for capitalist development and
has fostered the growth of monopolies
and the concentration of wealth. Des
pite the fact that a substantial portion of
30
economic aid to India has come from the
Societ bloc countries, India's state
economic goals have borne no relation to
socialist objectives.
Societ bloc aid has gone entirely
to the state, which allocates it to
such strategic sectors as steel, oil
drilling, heavy engineering, coal mining,
power generation, precision instruments,
and electrical machinery. It is often
claimed that such aid, by strengthening
the state sector, has helped India fight
imperialist domination of its economy.
Actually it has only helped the mono
polist Indian bourgeoisie to turn compra
dor and to collaborate on a larger scale
with foreign monopolies and with imper
ialism.
Foreign private investment, which
has quadrupled in the post-1947 period,
is on the order of Rs. 10,000 million
to Rs. 12,000 million, or about 1.4
to 1.7 billion U.S. dollars at current
rates of exchange. The United Kingdom
still accounts for well over half the
foreign private investment. The United
States, however, is the most important
source of new capital, contributing
nearly two-thirds of the total net in
flow in 1963-64 (Rs. 414 million) and
over one half in the following year
(Rs. 393 million). Taking the gross
inflows for the four years 1961-64, the
United Kingdom's share was Rs. 1067
million, compared to the United States'
share of Rs. 1274 million, and a total
for all other countries of Rs. 1034
million. Even purely Indian investments
are often linked with foreign capital
through collaborative agreements. It
is estimated that almost two-thirds
of Indian capital raised during 1957-64
went into foreign collaborative ven
tures. Scrutiny of the 1,000-odd
collaborative agreements in existence
at the moment suggests that almost all
the big Indian business houses have
become associated with foreign capi
talist enterprises. 3
Landlords, Peasants and the Green Revolu
tion
India's ruling-class alliance is not
only incapable of fulfilling the anti-
imperialist task of a democratic revolu
tion; it is also unable to eradicate
feudalism. Even limited bourgeois
democratic land reforms to promote
capitalist relations in the place of
feudal relations have not been forth
coming on any significant scale. Capital
ist farming is, however, emerging in
pockets.
In the late 1950's, India's growing
food gap was met by the massive import
of PL-480 foodgrains from the U.S.A.
(India accounted for over half the
PL-480 aid in 1960.) Food imports
obviated the need for immediate land
reforms and provided the ruling class
es with a cushion for administrative and
policy complacency. When the United
States found that it had no further
large-scale food surpluses, it recommend
ed to India the "new strategy" for
agriculture. This program stressed
fertilizers, insecticides, high-yield
seed varieties, and greater use of
irrigation. Areas already assured of
irrigation have been chosen for the
application of this strategy. The
result is growing disparity between the
favored and non-favored areas, as well
as growing tensions among the farming
classes. A study sponsored by the United
States Agency for International Develop
ment finds that the new strategy has
not only intensified the process of
economic polarization but has also con
tributed to conflicts between landlords
and tenants and between landowners and
landless laborers.
4
The new strategy aims at creating
an investible surplus for industry among
the affluent landlord classes, the new
kulaks (rich farmers using hired labor
Ed.) who are emerging as the most
strategic class in India's parliamentary
system. Because they wield vast influence
in the countryside, no party operating
in the system can afford to alienate
these kulaks.
The new agricultural strategy may
have helped close India's food gap,
but it is no substitute for land
reform as a means of changing the out
moded agrarian structure to which the
new technology is being applied. The
31
strategy will only increase India's
dependence on the super-powers. The
gates have already been opened to Amer
ican private capital for investment
in India's fertilizer industry, and for
the use of Soviet bloc aid to import
farm machinery or to manufacture it
in India. Every fourth tractor in India
is from the Soviet Union. Czechoslovakia,
Poland, Yugoslavia and East Germany are
among the other suppliers of farm
machinery to India, where the problem
is not one of shortage of labor but
of labor surplus. As machines displace
men, India's rural proletariat and its
rural unemployment have grown.
In fact the "green revolution", as
the breakthrough in Indian agriculture
is described by its votaries, may well
trigger an explosion in the country
side. As India's Home Minister, Y.B.
Chavan, declared in 1969: "Unless the
green revolution is based on social
justice, I am afraid the green revolu
tion may not remain green."
The Indian Communist M:>vement
Over 45 years old, the Indian commun
ist movement is now fragmented. It has
witnessed two major splits since 1964
and presently comprises two non-Maoist
parties (the pro-Moscow Communist Party
of India, or CPI, and the independent
Communist Party of India - Marxist,
or C P I - M ) ~ a Maoist party (the Commun
ist Party of India - Marxist-Leninist,
or CPI-ML)5; and several Maoist groups
which are not parties as yet, notable
among them being the Andhra Pradesh
Revolutionary Communist Committee.
Individual Maoists as well as those
belonging to Maoist organizations have
come to be known as "Naxali tes" ,
after the peasant uprisings in Naxal
bari in 1967. This article attempts
to sketch the development of the Maoist
perspective in India, to examine the
differences within the Indian Maoist
movement, and to assess the prospects for
a Maoist revolution.
The first split in the Indian com
munist movement occurred in 1964 in
the wake of the Sino-Indian border war
of 1962, and synchronized with the
international communist schism of 1963
64. Yet neither the Sino-Indian border
conflict nor the Sino-Soviet ideological
dispute was the primary cause of the
split in the CPl. The two factors inter
acted first with each other, and then
with an existing pattern of dissensions
within the CPI, and hastened the split.
The split did not represent a straight
Moscow-Peking polarization, for it was
not directly related to issues of
ideology; it has more to do with
differences within the CPI over issues
of program, strategy and tactics for
the Indian revolution.
6
The CPI-M, founded in 1964 as a
result of the split, was not Maoist.
The Maoist perspective in the Indian
communist movement was developed three
years later, in 1967, resulting in a
further split within the CPI-M, as a
large number of Maoist-oriented cadres
either left the party or were expelled
from it. These Maoist groups and individ
uals did not at first form a party, but
functioned within loosely knit committees.
In 1969, however, this incipient Maoist
movement in turn experienced a major
split when a section of Maoists formed
a party (the CPI-ML), excluding,
among others, the most powerful Maoist
formation in th, country, namely the
Andhra Maoists.
The two non-Maoist parties, CPI
and CPI-M, have different bases of
support. The CPI's following is exten
sive rather than strongly localized. Its
1971 representation of 24 in the 525
member federal parliament comes from
eight of India's seventeen states,
including the populous and b ackw ard
states of Uttar Pradesh and Bihar. The
CPI-M's 25 seats were won from the three
coas tal states of Wes t Bengal (20),
Kerala (4) and Andhra Pradesh (1).
These states are also CPI bases. While
the CPI-M is the leading party in
West Bengal and Kerala, the CPI is far
smaller by comparison in these two
states. In Andhra Pradesh, once a strong
hold of the communist movement, the
two parties are of roughly equal
strength. The CPI-M's stakes are now
virtually limited to West Bengal and
32
Kerala, where support is extensive and
where it has acted as a regional party
by strongly espousing local issues. In
these two states it stands a fair chance
of winning power through the ballot box,
with the help of other parties or without
it. In contrast, the CPI's constituency,
although limited, is spread over a
larger part of the country.
In the country as a whole, the CPI
has a better hold over the organized
trade union movement than does the CPI-M.
The CPI's following among the peasantry
is nationwide, while the CPI-M has
powerful peasant bases only in the two
states which are its strongholds. When
the CPI split in 1964, the urban elite,
most of the intellectual leaders, and
the trade union functionaries, stayed
on in the CPI, while most grass-roots
leaders who had live links with the
masses joined the CPI-M.
The basic differences between the
two parties stem from their attitudes
toward India's ruling class alliance and
their views of the present stage and
proper strategy of the revolution. More
specifically, they differ over the
composition and leadership of the front
for achieving India's democratic revo
lution. The approaches of the two parties
are, however, similar in important ways.
Both advocate peaceful transition to
socialism and both participate in the
country's bourgeois parliamentary system.
While the CPI's commitment to peaceful
transition is unconditional, the CPI-M
places the onus for such transition on
the class enemy.S The CPI-M's emphasis
on extra-constitutional methods is
greater than the CPI's. Thus the con
tradictions between the two non-Maoist
parties are non-antagonistic in that
both participate in the parliamentary
system and believe in peaceful transition.
Similarly, the contradictions within the
fragmented Maoist movement are also non
antagonistic in that all the Maoist
formations reject the parliamentary
system and agree on the need for a Maoist
model of revolution in India. Their
differences relate to the specifics.
t
f
Division in the CPI
The origins of the CPI split of 1964
date back to the party's confused under
standing of the significance of India's
attainment of independence in 1947. At
the inaugural meeting of the Cominform
in September 1947, Zhdanov made a famous
speech in which he characterized the
world as divided into two hostile camps,
and called on communists to lead movements
to oppose "the plans of imperialist ex
pansion and aggression along every line. "9
The Indian communists misinterpreted the
Zhdanov line to mean that in every non
socialist country the bourgeoisie had
gone over to the camp of the Anglo
American imperialists and that this new
alignment of forces had created two camps
facing each other in irreconcilable con
flict in every non-socialist country. The
Indian communists went further than
Zhdanov and embraced the views of Kardelj,
a Yugoslav speaker at the Comintern
meeting, who argued that the democratic
and the socialist revolutions must "inter
twine" and that communists must attack
not only the big bourgeoisie but the
bourgeoisie as a whole. Adopting this
"Titoite" view, the Indian communists
concluded that India was already a
capitalist country (rather than a semi
feudal and semi-capitalist one) and
that they should intertwine the two
stages of the revolution (democratic
and socialist) into a single stage
through attack on the whole of the Indian
capitalis t clas s.
This CPI conception came under
attack from the communists of the Andhra
region in south-central India, who had
been leading a peasant partisan war in
the Telengana districts since 1946. The
Andhra communists invoked Mao Tse-tung's
New Democracy to justify their strategy
for a two-stage revolution in India,
involving a four class alliance for
agrarian revolution.
lO
In fact, the first
recorded debate on the legitimacy of Mao
Tse-tung's teachings as part of Marxism
Leninism took place in India between the
CPI's central leadership and the "peasant
communists" of the Andhra region.
33
i
In the late 1940's the Cominform had
no clear line for the CPI and the South
east Asian communist parties, which had
embarked on a series of insurrections
following their own interpretations
of the Zhdanov statement of 1947. As
the Cold War began to replace class
struggle on the Soviet agenda, however,
the Cominform sought a broad peace front
against United States imperialism. In
1950, the Cominform intervened to per
suade the CPI to accept a strategy of
two-stage revolution based on a four
class alliance. This was in a sense
a vindication of the Andhra communists,
who had already espoused a four class
alliance for agrarian revolution, in
contrast to the all-India leadership's
anti-capitalist struggle, based
primarily on urban insurrection and the
general strike weapon. The Andhra
communists thus found themselves leading
the CPI in 1950, and went ahead with
their peasant partisan war in Telengana.
Soviet foreign policy interests,
however, required that the CPI abandon
armed struggle in favor of peaceful
constitutionalism. The Kremlin wanted
to stabilize Nehru as a non-aligned
ally in the peace front against im
perialism, and hence in 1951 the Comin
form once again intervened, this time to
force the CPI to abandon armed struggle.
The CPI gave up armed struggle in
1951, and in 1952 took part in the
country's first general elections with
universal adult franchise. Its success
was most spectacular in Telengana and
the adjoining Telegu-speaking districts
of what was then part of Madras state,
where the CPI had recently conducted
peasant warfare. In Hyderabad state,
where Telengana lay, the CPI was illegal
at the time of the elections and over
2,000 of its active cadre were in jail.
Nevertheless, while contesting only 42
of the 98 Telengana seats, the CPI won
36, clinched the victory of 10 socialist
party candidates it had backed, and
obtained about one-third of the votes.
The Congress party, which contested all
of the 98 seats, received about the
same percentage of the vote as the CPI
and won only 41 seats, 25 of which were
in districts where the CPI did not run
candidates. Similarly, in neighbor
ing Madras state, the CPI contested
only 75 out of 140 seats, yet won 41
seats and polled 25 percent of the
vote, while the Congress party,
although contesting all of the 140
seats, polled only 30 percent of the
vote. In Hyderabad and Madras alike,
the CPI gains were most spectacular
precisely where the party had invited
the most heavy police and military
repression by leading peasant partisan
warfare or guerilla squad actions. If
the vote meant anything at all, it
was a clear vindication of the Andhra
Maoist line of armed struggle.
Immediately after the elections,
the CPI found itself divided in its
attitude towards the Congress party
and the Nehru government. Should it
fight the Congress all out, or should
it forge a united front with "pro
gressive sections" to fight the right
ist reaction which was growing inside
the Congress party as well as outside
it? A united front would require sup
port of Nehru's foreign and domestic
policies against his critics both
inside and outside the Congress
party.
Soviet policies of the time had
much to do with the CPI's dilemma.
When, in the early 1950's Nehru
showed an anti-West orientation and
strove for closer ties (including
economic aid) with the socialist
camp, the Soviet Union supported
India as a non-aligned ally in the
peace front. The CPI backed Nehru's
non-alignment policy without hesita
tion because it served Soviet foreign
policy interests. But the party re
mained divided on Nehru's domestic
policies.
A ~ i d s t this continuing CPI con
troversy, Moscow began seeing pro
gressive features not only in Nehru's
foreign policies but also in his
domestic policies. With this shift
in the Soviet attitude, India became
the pivot of Soviet policy for Asia.
The CPI's 1951 program had
34
I
assumed that India was a semi-colonial
working class was to evolve as its
and dependent country ruled by a big
leader only gradually. The concept of
bourgeois-landlord government which
was collaborating with British imperial
ism. This formulation now came under
attack from a pro-Soviet section of the
CPI which insisted that Nehru had
abandoned collaboration with imperial
ism and had taken to peaceful coopera
tion and co-existence with the socialist
camp. This group argued that India
needed a national united front as the
prelude to a government of democratic
unity. Such a policy would require an
emergency alliance with the Congress
party to resist the "pro-imperialist
and pro- feudal" offensive. ll
This line of thinking was later
to be developed into a slogan for a
"national democratic government." In
December, 1955, a few months before
the 20th Congress of the Communist Party
of the Soviet Union, CPI general secre
tary Ajoy Ghosh outlined a program of
"uniting with and struggling against
the Congress" to build a national demo
cratic front. This program implied not
only peaceful transition to socialism
(a concept which was to be proclaimed
at the 20th Congress of the CPSU in
February 1956), but also the concept
of national democracy (proclaimed
formally through the Moscow statement
of 81 Communist parties in 1960). The
CPI had thus anticipated two of the
most controversial formulations which
were later to be commended to the
international communist movement by
the Soviet leadership. The same concepts
became the major ideological issues in
the Sino-Soviet dispute.
12
The Moscow declaration (1960) des
cribed the national democratic state as
a form of transition to socialism,
especially in the non-aligned countries
of the peace zone, in which the national
bourgeoisie played an objectively pro
gressive role and deserved socialist
economic and diplomatic support. The
national democratic state was one that
had achieved complete economic inde
pendence from imperialism and was ruled
by a broad anti-imperialist front that
included the national bourgeoisie. The
national democracy was a corollary of the
concept of peaceful transition, and India
was one of the countries of the peace
zone where, in the Soviet view, peaceful
transition via a national democratic
state was possible.1
3
The "national democracy" concept
added a new dimension to the CPI's
continuing struggle for a new program to
replace its 1951 program. As Nehru's
domestic policies shifted to the right
and tension mounted on the Sino-Indian
border, the CPI attitude towards the
Congress party and the Indian bourgeoisie
continued to be the central issue of
debate. The debate took a predictable
form: national democracy versus people's
democracy. The right wing of the CPI,
with Soviet backing, contended that
India's bourgeois democracy could meta
morphose into a national democracy. It
placed heavy reliance on Soviet aid as
the instrument to secure national demo
cracy. To this, the left wing countered
that the bourgeoisie was compromising
with domestic reaction and with imperial
ism, and that Soviet aid, although
necessary, was being used by the bour
geoisie to bargain for more aid from the
West. Rival program drafts were presented
I
at the CPI's Sixth Congress in April,
1961, and a split was averted only by
the intervention of Mikhail Suslov, who
headed the high-level CPSU delegation'to
that Congress. Suslov, anxious to preserve
unity, managed to salvage the rightist
line and to maneuver the Congress into
shelving the issue of a new CPI program.
The conflict continued behind the scenes
until the CPI split of 1964.
The CPI Versus the CPI-M
I
The crucial difference between the
post-split CPI and the breakaway wing
which became the CPI-M lies in their
I
divergent interpretations of the class
character of the Indian state. The CPI
holds that the present Indian state is
in the hands of the national bourgeoisie
as a whole and is pursuing the goal of
building an independent national economy
along the path of capitalist development.
35
To embark on the socialist road, India
must, according to the CPI, complete
the present anti-imperialist, anti
fuedal, national democratic stage of
its revolution by reversing the process
of capitalist development. The party's
program proposes an intermediate stage
called "the non-capitalist path of
development." This is to be realized
through a national democratic front
comprising the working class, the
broad peasant masses, the rising
classes of urban and rural intelligentsia,
and the national bourgeoisie excluding
the monopoly sections.
The CPI-H maintains that the Indian
state is a bourgeois-landlord state
headed by the big bourgeoisie. In its
view, the big bourgeoisie has allied it
self with landlordism and is collabora
ting with foreign imperialist capital.
Without working class control of the
state, radical agrarian reforms and the
expulsion of foreign monopoly capital
will be impossible. Therefore, the anti
imperialist and anti-feudal tasks cannot
be completed without a clash between
the forces of the democratic revolution
and state power. The CPI hence favors
a narrower front -- the people's demo
cratic front, led by the working class
in firm alliance with the peasantry.
Poor and landless peasants are to be
the basi callies, middle peasants can
be reliable allies, while rich peasants
can be brought in. The urban middle
classes are also seen as allies who can
be brought into the front. The broader
sections of the national bourgeoisie
which have no durable links with the
foreign monopolies are seen as objec
tively interested in the principal task
of the revolution and worthy of being
won over. But the big monopoly sections
of the bourgeoisie, who control state
power and who develop strong links with
foreign monopolists, while sharing power
with the landlords, can never be allies
of the revolution.
The character of the revolution
sought by the two parties is basically
the same -- anti-imperialist, anti
feudal, anti-monopoly and democratic.
The differences relate to the class
composition of the front for revolution.
The CPI thinks the national bourgeoisie
can be a stable partner in the front,
and is even prepared to give it a share
in the leadership of the national
democratic state. The CPI's national
democracy therefore implies dual hegemony
of the working class and the national
bourgeoisie. The CPI-M on the other hand
considers the national bourgeoisie to be
at best a vacillating ally in the people's
democratic front. Its analysis permits
participation by the bourgeoisie, but
not leadership, which must belong exclu
sively to the working class.
Maoism in India
Except for the brief Maoist interlude
in the late 1940's in Te1engana, the
Maoist perspective in the Indian communist
movement did not develop until 1967. The
Naxalbari peasant uprising in 1967 and
a revolt by the Andhra Pradesh state
unit of the CPI-M in 1968 catalyzed a
split in the CPI-M, and gave rise to a
Maoist movement in the country.
The 1967 general elections deprived
the Congress party of its electoral
monopoly. It lost office in 8 of the 17
states and could retairt office at the
federal level only with a greatly reduced
majority in parliament. In Kerala and
West Bengal, the CPI-M was the dominant
partner in coalition ministries which
also included the CPl. The peasant revolt
in Naxalbari, led by CPI-M radicals in
West Bengal, placed the party in an
awkward dilemma: if the coalition ministry
did not crush the uprising, it would
invite dismissal by the federal government
for failure to maintain law and order;
but if it crushed the revolt, the party
would lay itself open to the charge of
compromising with the bourgeois parlia
mentary system and subordinating class
struggle to the compulsions of survival
in 0 ffice.
The West Bengal government smashed
the Naxa1bari uprising, with CPI-M power
holders playing an active part in the
suppression. As a result the CPI-M found
itself at odds with the Communist Party
of China, which hailed the Naxalbari
36
revolt
14
, and the party became internally When the CPI-M leadership placed the
polarized over the questions of peaceful draft before the party for ratification,
transition to socialism and participation there was widespread dissent. The Jammu
in the parliamentary system. A large num and Kashmir and the Andhra Pradesh state
ber of Maoist dissidents left the party,
I
I
but did not form a new pftrty immediately.
They functioned through loosely knit
district, state and national committees
which coordinated their activities. The
Maoists wanted to build a party through
Naxalbari-type struggles allover the
country.
While being confronted with this
challenge to its leadership, the CPI-M
had another problem on its hands. It had
to come to grips with the ideological
issues that were dividing the Indian
communist movement. When it was founded
in 1964, the party delayed taking a
stand on these issues, while the CPI
simply adhered to Soviet positions in
the dispute
15
. In August, 1967, under
pressure from the ranks, the CPI-M
leadership took up the ideological issues
and produced a draft resolution for
party discussion.
This resolution covered the entire
range of issues in dispute: 1) the class
assessment .and evaluation of the New
Epoch; 2) the issue of war and peace;
3) the concept of peaceful
4) forms of transition to socialism;
5) the fundamental contradiction of the
present epoch, 6) the contradiction between
imperialism and the national liberation
movement; 7) the assessment of Stalin's
place and 8) the character of the
Soviet state; 9) material incentives in
the Soviet Union; and 10) Soviet pro
posals for unity of action with the
Chinese in Vietnam.
The draft rejected as revisionist
the Soviet positions on all the issues
except one -- cooperation in Vietnam. But
this anti-revisionist stance did not
imply acceptance of Chinese positions on
the issues, which, apart from the question
of unity of action in Vietnam, were not
examined. In spite of its opposition to
Soviet positions, the CPI-M's stance
could still be seen as revisionist from
the Chinese point of view.
16
units rejected it outright. At the all
India plenum, where the draft came up for
ratification, the powerful Andhra Pradesh
unit spearheaded the attack on the leader
ship and demanded that the issues be ex
amined afresh in the light of Chinese
positions in the dispute.
17
When the
national leadership tried to discipline
the Andhra Pradesh unit, the dissenters
broke off to become independent and
functioned through a state-level coor
dination committee. Thus, while the Nax
albari revolt catalyzed the Maoist revolt
against CPI-M participation in the
parliamentary system and posed the issue
of armed struggle in a new perspective,
the Andhra revolt crystallized Indian
Haoist support of the Chinese line in
the international Communist movement.
The Indian communist movement thus
witnessed its second split in four years.
Shortly after the Naxalbari uprising, in
November, 1967, an All India Co-ordination
Committee of the CPI-M was set up to accel
erate the struggle against revisionism and
to unleash mass struggles. This committee
became the All India Co-ordination
Committee of Communist Revolutionaries
in June, 1968. The AICCCR, which was
committed to building a Maoist party
through Naxalbari-type peasant struggles,
converted itself into a party, the
Communist Party of India-Marxist-Leninist,
in April, 1969.
18
It excluded the Andhra
Maoists and.many others who thought that
formation of a party was premature at
this stage. Peking recognized the new
party immediately.
The differences between the CPI-M and
the CPI-ML cover the entire range of
issues regarding the revolution -- its
stage, strategy and tactics. The CPI-M
holds that the Indian state is a bour
geois-landlord state, led by the big
bourgeoisie which pursues a capitalist
path in collaboration with foreign mono
poly capital. The CPI-ML, which generally
follows the Chinese view, holds that India
is a semi-feudal and semi-colonial coun
try, whose obsolete social system serves
37
as a base for United States imperialism
and Soviet social imperialism and
facilitates exploitation by comprador
bureaucrat capitalism. The basic task
of the revolution is seen as the elimina
tion of feudalism, bureaucratic capitalism,
and imperialism. Of the major contra
dictions, the one between feudalism and
the broad masses of the people is viewed
as the principal one.
19
This determines
the stage of the revolution -- the
democratic stage. The peasantry is to be
the main force of the revolution, to be
led by the working class. The working
class must rely on landless and poor
peasants, firmly unite with middle pea
sants, and win a section of the rich
peasants while neutralizing the res,t.
}bst urban petty bourgeois and revolu
tionary intellectuals will be reliable
allies of the revolution.
The CPI-ML seeks to build a demo
cratic front through worker-peasant
unity, to be achieved in the process
of armed struggle and after red power
has been established in at least some
parts of the country. The path to liber
ation is people's war, to be waged by
creating bases of armed struggle and
consolidating the political power of
the people through guerrilla warfare.
This will remain the basic form of
struggle through the period of demo
cratic revolution.
The CPI-ML and the Andhra Maoists
The CPI-ML assertion that the prin
cipal contradiction is between feuda
lism and the b road masses of the people
leaves unclear the anti-imperialist task
of the democratic revolution that the
CPI-ML has in view. It lays lop-sided
emphasis on the anti-feudal task. By
contrast, the Andhra Uaoists who are
outside the CPI-ML hold that the main
contradiction is between the Indian peo
ple and imperialism (including social
imperialism) in alliance wi th feu dalism.
They see imperialism and comprador
bureaucrat capitalism as the props of
feudalism. The CPI-ML does not regard
the national bourgeoisie as an ally of
the revolution, either firm or vacil
lating.
20
But the Andhra Maoists want
the national bourgeoisie in the front
along with the workers, the poor peasantry
and the middle classes. Further, the CPI
ML is silent on the need to fight British
imperialism and its references are limited
to United States imperialism and Soviet
social imperialism. The Andhra Maoists
are more specific on this point.
2l
The differences between the CPI-ML
and other Maoist groups, especially the
Maoists of the Andhra Pradesh Revolution
ary Communist Committee, also involve
the tactical line, the methodology of
revolution. The first Indian attempt at
working out a Maoist tactical line dates
from the Naxalbari peasant struggle in
1967.
22
A year after Naxalbari, Indian
Maoists who were functioning through the
All India Coordinating Committee of
Communist Revolutionaries reviewed the
situation and renewed the call to build
a "true" communist party through Naxal
bari-type struggles.
23
The AICCCR leadership innovated an
unorthodox (in the Maoist context) tac
tical line -- that the primary condition
for party building was to organize armed
struggle in the countryside. They held
that a party so built w o u l ~ not only be
a revolutionary party but would at the
same time be the people's armed force
and the people's state power. These were
seen as features of an indivisible
struggle. Here armed struggle was meant
in the rather narrow sense of guerrilla
squad actions. There was no reference
to mass organizations or to other forms
of struggle besides armed struggle.
24
As an afterthought, the leadership recog
nized the need to mobilize peasants on
economic demands as the first step
towards drawing in those backward sections
which were late in grasping the politics
of armed struggle.
25
But the leadership
remained generally vague on the question
of land distribution or an agrarian
program as part of its program of armed
struggle.
When the AICCCR met in October, 1968,
it determined that Naxalbari-type move
ments in the country had already entered
the stage of guerilla warfare. It there
fore called upon revolutionaries to
38
plunge into work among the peasantry and
to set up revolutionary bases in the
countryside. (The leaders were not clear
about what they meant by "revolutionary
bases". They may have meant guerrilla
zones. )
Meanwhile serious differences were
developing between the national AICCCR
and the Andhra Pradesh Co-ordination
Committee of Communist Revolutionaries.
Connnunists had been organizing the
tribal people in an 800 square mile
area since 1959. The movement, which
predated Naxalbari and was quite inde
pendent of it, gained strength in
1967, and police reprisals followed
in 1968. The CPI-M, which was leading
the movement prior to the Maoist revolt
by the Andhra Pradesh unit of that
party, was not organizationally pre
pared for defense against the police
raids. The Srikakulam district unit of
the party disagreed with the state unit
over the timing of armed struggle and
the need for military training to re
sist the police.
26
In October, 1968,
the state unit, which had already left
the CPI-M and was functioning indepen
dently as the Andhra Pradesh Co-Ordina
tion Committee of Connnunist Revolution
aries, joined the national AICCCR. The
Srikakulam district unit was, however,
already dealing directly with the AICCCR.
In December, 1968, the Srikakulam unit
decided to launch armed struggle in the
district, following the methodology
of struggle recommended by the AICCCR,
but without the approval of the Andhra
Pradesh state unit, which had serious
reservations about the timing and mode
of operation. Shortly thereafter, in
February 1969, the AICCCR disowned the
Andhra Pradesh state committee and
decided to go ahead with the formation
of a Maoist party excluding them. As
I
the armed struggle continued in Srikaku
lam, the new party (CPI-ML) claimed
that the Girijan tribal people were
I
"learning warfare through warfare" and
were setting up their own revolutionary
organization, the Ryotanga Sangrama
Samiti, which was described as "in
I
embryo, the organ of p e ~ ~ l e ' s political
power in the villages." Significantly,
the party claimed that the Ryotanga San
grama Samiti was a mass organization
I
whose formation followed the "libera
tion" of an area, rather than being
formed in advance of the struggle.
According to the party, the Samiti set
up people's courts, people's militia,
and village administrations which under
took land distribution programs. The
party claimed that "red power" had
emerged in over 300 Srikakulam villages.
About this time, the CPI-ML leader
ship developed a new tactical line:
that mass organizations were unnecessary
and guerrilla warfare should be the sole
tactic of any peasant revolutionary
struggle. The peasants as a whole need
not participate in guerrilla warfare,
which could be started by an advanced
section of the peasantry. The accent
was on secret politicization. The ear
lier line of drawing in the backward
among the peasantry, by mobilizing them
first on economic demands, was abandon
ed.
The CPI-ML leadership further intro
duced the controversial tactic of "anni
hilating the class enemy" in the country
side. After the party unit had done some
preliminary propaganda for seizure of
political power, guerrilla squads were
to be armed in secret and charged with
annihilating the mos t hated class enemies.
After the first action had taken place,
political cadres were to whisper to the
peasants about the benefits that would
result when the oppressor landlords
were forced to flee the village. Peas
ants would be aroused and drawn into the
struggle. When a number of such squad
actions had taken place and the annihila
tion line had been firmly established,
political cadres would advance the slogan
for the seizure of crops.29 The sequence
was guerrilla terror--political propagan
da--guerrilla terror. Mass organizations
and mass participation were not parts
of the annihilation campaign.
These tactics were first tried in
Srikakulam district and, because there
was already a well-rooted mass movement
there, met with some success. Since 1959
the peasantry had been organized on
class and general demands under the
leadership of the communists. The move
ment had been directed against the
39
tyranny of the landlords, the village
level. bureaucracy, and the forest admin
istration. When the annihilation tactic
was tried here, the effort was no mere
guerrilla squad action to kill landlords.
There was a high degree of mass partici
pation. Thousands of peasants accompanied
the guerrillas to raid landlords' houses,
to e x ~ c u t e landlords, or to storm police
stations. But after a point, the tactic
proved counter-productive even in Srikak
ulam. The actions provoked police repri
sals and the guerrillas were forced
to flee. The same tactics were tried
indiscriminately in other Andhra Pra
desh districts where there was no tra
dition of mass movement. The results were
disastrous: the guerrilla actions were
unrelated to peasant demands. Squads
belonging to one region would travel
scores of miles to carry out an annihila
tion raid, and then flee to another
region. In the absence of political
follow-up work, the the raids appear
ed to the local peasants no different
from acts of banditry, devoid of politi
cal significance.
In Srikakulam it was claimed that
"red political power" had emerged in
300 villages, from which terror-stricken
landlords had fled follwoing the annihila
tion campaign. The CPI-ML expected
Srikakulam to develop into India's
Yenan, where a people's liberation
army could be formed. But the party did
not explain how this could happen
through mere terrorist tactics. And in
less than 18 months, the red bases
crumbled in the face of the government's
counter-insurgency drive. The guerrillas
abandoned She peasantry to police on
slaughts.
3
Meanwhile the Andhra Maoists who
were functioning through the Andhra
Pradesh Revolutionary Communist Commit
tee were conducting limited actions in
areas under their influence. Despite
their reservations about the CPI-ML's
tactical line in Srikakulam, they sup
ported the movement there because it
was a question of protecting the peas
ants against the government's armed
raids.
Two Shades of Maoism
The differences between the CPI-ML
and the Andhra Pradesh Revolutionary
Communist Committee (APRCC) relate not
only to organizational issues but to
the whole philosophy of armed struggle.
To the APRCC, armed struggle should
begin only as response to landlord
attacks. They hold that people's war
always begins as resistance and not as
offensive, and further that the CPI-ML's
methodology of struggle, by rejecting
mass participation, has been unrelated
to the people's demands. This became
even clearer in areas other than
Srikakulam where the CPI-ML's guerrilla
squads killed individual landlords in
the absence of a mass movement of any
type.
While the CPI-ML regards every
armed struggle as a "national liberation
struggle", the APRCC maintains that only
after a series of armed actions by
the peasantry and their coordination
into a people's army does a national
liberation struggle truly emerge. To
term every peasant struggle a struggle
for state power is to divert the people's
attention from their basic and immediate
demands. Further, when people are not
organized on their demands and led to
win them, guerrilla terror merely
diverts their attention. According to
the APRCC, people should be their own
liberators under the party's leader
ship, which in turn means that the people
must be part of all guerrilla actions.
The CPI-ML' s methodology, they say,
makes the people feel that outsiders
are their liberators. Indeed, in Srikaku
lam as in other regions, CPI-ML guer
rillas frequently included activists who
did not belong to the region and had not
lived among the local people.
31
According to the APRCC, the begin
ning, development, consolidation and
extension of peasant struggles must all
be based on an agrarian program. Al
though complete liberation is possible
only after setting up base areas, sei
zure of power throughout the country,
and the establishment of a new demo
cratic state, "liberation begins with
the starting of anti-landlord struggle,
with the starting of (an) agrarian
revolutionary program."
40
I
The CPI-ML' s "annihilation"line,
,
t
on the other hand, postpones the agrarian
I
I
program to a later stage and regards
destruction of the state machinery
as its first task. Agrarian revolu
tion has ceased to be part of the CPI-ML's
immediate program, while the APRCC be
lieves that agrarian revolution is the
main content of people's war, in theory
as well as in practice. Peasant strug
gles to implement agrarian programs will
naturally develop into armed struggle if
the masses are trained to resist the
reprisals that peasant actions invite.
t
A program of agrarian revolution should,
according to the APRCC, be coordinated
I
1
so that the masses understand the rela
tionship between agrarian revolution
and seizure of power. They should also
be made to understand that the gains
of their agrarian struggles can be pro
I
tected only by seizing political power,
which is possible only through people's
war.
t
The CPI-ML seeks to create "base
areas" by annihilating individual land
t
t
lords, arguing that 'when the guerrilla
units begin to act in this manner in
any area the class enemies will be
I forced to flee the countryside, and
the villagers will be liberated. ,,32
The APRCC counters that this is contrary
to Mao Tse-tung's concept of liberated
areas. Mao has laid down three condi
tions for developing a liberated area:
1) building the armed forces, 2) de
feating the enemy, and 3) mobilizing
the broad masses of people. As the
APRCC understands Mao, "building
the armed forces" means building the
people's armed forces; "defeating
the class enemy" does not mean the an
nihilation of the class enemy but de
feating the class enemy along with his
armed forces; and "mobilizing the
masses" means mobilizing and arming them
against the class enemy and its armed
forces in complete coordination with
the people's armed forces.
33
1
,
The APRCC's line is summed up in
a recent document:
Amed struggle is the main form
1 of struggle but mass struggles
\
have to be ooordinated with armed
I
1
struggle and mass organizations
should be ooordinated with the
organization of the red army. By
ooordinating olass struggles in
urban areas and in the oountpY
side and by ooordinating other
forms of struggle with armed
struggle" the majority of the
people should be cir(JJJ)n into con
scious participation in armed
struggle. 34
The failure of the CPI-ML's tac
tical line in the countryside is evident
from the severe setbacks the party has
received in Srikakulam and in Debra
Gopivallahpur and other rural areas o ~
West Bengal. In May, 1970, shortly
after the party's first congress, its
activity in West Bengal shifted from
the countryside to the city of Calcutta.
The urb an movement, which has taken the
form of low-level guerrilla squad ac
tions based on the annihilation tac
tic, is not coordinated with any move
ment in the countryside.
35
The CPI-ML
has become a truncated party, virtually
limited to West Bengal. The Srikakulam
unit has repudiated the central authority
of the party, while the Bihar and Uttar
Pradesh units, like part of the Orissa
unit, have broken away. Thus the Indian
Maoist movement, which showed signs of
consolidation through the AICCCR, has
begun fragmenting since the hasty for
mation of the party in 1969.
While the Srikakulam movement has
collapsed under CPI-ML leadership, the
APRCC's movement has recorded some pro
gress. In April, 1969, the Committee
prepared the tribal people of Warangal
and Khammam districts in Andhra Pradesh
to reoccupy land which had been taken
from them by neighboring landlords. Once
the landlords had been made ineffective,
a land program was begun in earnest.
Thousands of acres of government waste
land, forest land and landlords' farms
were occupied. All forms of feudal ex
ploitation were ended. It took almost a
year to implement the first stage of the
program. In retaliation, hundreds of
tribal people who had occupied land were
jailed and repressive measures were
launched by police and paramilitary for
ces. This took guerrilla resistance to
41
a new level and the movement spread. In
late 1969 the APRCC claimed to control
an area of 5,000 to 6,000 square miles,
inhabited by 350,000 to 400,000 people.
By mid-1970 it claimed that this area
had expanded to 7,000 to 8,000 square
miles, with a population of 500,000
to 600,000.
Repression has since been greatly
intensified. The Government never felt
called upon to deploy its regular army
against the Srikakulam movement. But
in the areas where the APRCC has tried
to develop a guerrilla zone, the Indian
army has, for the first time since inde
pendence, been called out to quell a
peasant movement. On March 1, 1971,
about 5,000 troops and 10,000 para
military forces carried out a major
operation in Warangal, Khammam and
Karimnagar districts. On that day the
civil administration helplessly handed
over control to the army for a Vietnam
style clean-up operation. Something
similar to the "s trategic hamlet" plan
is being tried. Many scattered villages
are herded together into concentration
camps so that all food supplies to the
guerrillas are cut off. According to
one report, camps have been set up at
three mile intervals allover the area.
No civilian is allowed out after dusk.36
Despite its fragmentation, the Mao
ist movement has registered extensive
growth in the country. A strong Maoist
undercurrent is evident within the CPI-M,
and its leadership is under heavy pres
sure to quit the parliamentary system.
There is a growing conviction in CPI-M
ranks that the party cannot achieve any
thing significant within the framework
of the bourgeois constitution, which con
centrates power in the federal government
and leaves state governments powerless
to implement any substantial part of
the party's program. Those who hold this
conviction believe that the tas te of
power via the ballot box which the par
ty has enjoyed in Kerala and West Ben
gal has made it a victim of parliamen
tary cretinism. In the absence of a
viable Maoist party on a national scale
to serve as a rallying center, many ex
tremist dissenters in the CPI-M con
tinue to work in the party. There is a
possibility that these dissidents may
force a split in the CPI-M or leave it
in strength to launch a new Maoist par
ty.
The emergence of a viable Maoist
party in India depends on two factors:
1) the ability of the Indian Maoists to
work out a unified tactical line to
coordinate peasant movements with each
other and with urban movements; and
2) the exodus of a large number of CPI-M
cadres to the Maoist movement. For the
CPI-M has by far the largest number of
militant cadres in both urban and rural
areas.
Revolutionary potential has exist
ed in India for quite some time. The
serious economic crisis in the country,
including a severe unemployment prob
lem and growing tensions in the country
side, add to this potential. The failure
of the Indian Maoist movement to ex
ploit it is a measure of the movement's
weakness and of the need for a clearer
Maoist perspective on the Indian revolu
tion. [New Delhi, July 1971]
FOOTNOTES
1. Monopolies Inquiry Commission,
Report 1965. New Delhi, Government of
India, 1965, pp. 121-22.
2. B.V. Krishna Murti, "Power Elite
Planning for People's Welfare", Economic
and Political Weekly, Bomb ay, May 27,
1967, pp. 966-67.
3. M.S.N. Menon, India and European
Socialist Countries, New Delhi, Per
spective Publications, 1970, pp.
138-50 and 154-56.
4. Francine Frankel, Agricultural
Modernization and Social O1ange, New Del
hi, U.S. Agency for International Develop
ment, 1969, unpublished, mimeographed.
See also Ministry of Home Affairs,
Government of India, The Nature and Causes
of Agrarian Tension, New Delhi, 1969,
unpublished, mimeographed.
5. The Connnunist Party of India has
been recognized by the Soviet bloc as
the only communist party in the country.
The independent Communist Party of India
Marxist, recognized neither by Moscow
nor by Peking, has been trying to build
a bridge to the international communist
42
movement through the neutral or inde
pendent bloc of parties -- Rumanian,
North Korean, North Vietnamese and
Cuban. The Communist Party of India
Marxist-Leninist is the only genuine
communist party in Peking's view.
6. For a detailed analysis support
ing this conclusion see Mohan Ram,
Indian Communism: Split Within ~ Split,
Delhi, Vikas Publications, 1969.
7. Before the formation of the CPI
ML, most Indian Maoists were functioning
through the All India Co-ordination
The AICCCR expelled its Andhra unit
before converting itself into the CPI
ML. Its Maharashtra unit chose to keep
out of the new party; it opposed the
hasty formation of a party from above
and the policy of exclusion of the Andhra
Maoists.
8. That is, it is willing to attempt
peaceful transition to socialism but
does not rule out the possibility that
India's governing classes may, through
violent repression, drive the people
and the party into militant resist
ance (Ed.).
9. A. Zhdanov, "The International
Situation", For ~ Lasting Peace, For
~ People's Democracy, 10 November,
1947, quoted in Mohan Ram, Indian
Communism: Split Within ~ Split.
Vikas Publications, Delhi, 1969, p. 12.
10. A four class alliance refers
to an alliance led by the proletariat,
with the peasants as their main allies,
the petty bourgeoisie as allies to be
won over through careful organizational
work, and the non-monopoly bourgeoisie
as potential but less reliable allies
(Mao Tse-tung, "The Chinese Revolution and
the Chinese Communist Party, Selected
Works, Vol. III, pp. 92-93 - Ed.).
11. See Ajoy Ghosh, "The United
Front", New Age (CPI Monthly, New Delhi),
February 1956.
12. A brillant analysis of the issues
can be found in Victor M. Fic, Peaceful
Transition to Communism in India: Strat
~ of the "Co""mmunist PartY (Bombay,
Nichiketa, 1969).
13. Mohit Sen, a cpr theoretician,
claimed in 1961 that although the "state
of national democracy" was a new concept
in the international communist move
ment his party had, since 1956, been
putting forward a program and producing
an analysis which was the same as the
Moscow statement's. It was the culmina
tion of a "very precise formulation of
the CPr." Maral, New Delhi Monthly,
January 1961.
14. The Communist Party of China,
supporting the the Naxalbari uprising,
called upon the CPI-M following to repud
iate its leadership. The CPC's analysis
was that India was a semi-feudal, semi
colonial, only nominally independent
country and that the Indian bourgeoisie
had turned comprador. It held that the
objective conditions for a revolution
existed in India. For the CPI-M's
views expressing disagreement with the
CPC's analysis, see "Divergent Views
between Our Party and the CPC on
Fundamental Issues", Resolution of the
CPI-M Central Committee, August 1967.
15. In the pre-split CPI, the right
wing which had Moscow's backing in its
struggle against the left wing, suc
ceeded in committing the party to Soviet
positions in the ideological dispute
without a proper party discussion.
Since the split the CPI has been consist
ent in its support of Moscow on issues
of ideology.
16. See Mohan Ram, Indian Communism:
Split Within ~ Split, for a detailed
analysis.
17. For these positions, see "A
Proposal Concerning the General Line of
the International Communist Movement,"
Letter from the Central Committee of
the Chinese Communist Party, June 14,
1963, in reply to the Letter from the
Central Committee of the Communist
Party of the Soviet Union dated March
30, 1963.
18. For a study of the evolution
of the Maoist tactical line in India,
see Mohan Ram, Maoism in India, Vikas
Publications, Delhi, 1971.
19. The Chinese Party has never
endorsed this position because it has
never stated publicly what the princi
pal contradiction in India is.
20. This analysis of the CPI-ML's
program is based on unpublished docu
ments.
21. Andhra Pradesh Revolutionary
Communist Committee, Immediate Program,
unpublished, mimeographed, April 1969.
Also Andhra Pradesh Revolutionary
43
Communist Committee, Problems of People's
War, unpublished, mimeographed, early 1970.
-- 22: An authoritative report on
the lessons of the Naxalbari struggle
by one of its leaders, Kanu Sanyal,
"A Report on the Peasant MOvement in
the Terai Region", Liberation (Cal
cutta monthly), bears striking resem
blance in its methodology to the famous
Hunan report of Mao Tse-tung.
23. "Declaration of the All-India
Co-ordination Committee of Communist
Revolutionaries," Liberation, June 1968.
24. For an analysis of the AICCCR's
and later the CPI-ML's tactical line,
see Abhijnan Sen, "'!he Naxalite Tac
tical Line", Frontier (Calcutta Week
ly), July 4, 1969.
25. (haru Mazumdar, "Develop Peas
ant Class Struggles Through Class
Analysis, Investigation and Study,"
Liberation, November 1968.
Communist Committee, On Srikakulam Gir
ijan Armed Struggle, unpublished,
mimeographed, April 1969.
27. "Srikakulam Marches On", Libera
tion, April 1969.
--28. (haru Mazmndar, "Some Current
Organizational and Political Problems",
Liberation, July 1969.
29. (haru Mazumdar, "A Few Words
on Guerrilla Actions", Deshabrati
(Bengal Weekly, Calcutta), January
15, 1970.
30. Another area where the tactic
was tried without success was in Debra
Gopivallabpur in Midnapur district of
West Bengal. See "Revolutionary Armed
Struggle in Debra in West Bengal",
Report of the Debra Thana Organizing
Committee (CPI-ML), Liberation,
Decenber 1969.
31. Narayanamurthi, "The Srikakulam
Story -- II", Frontier, September 20,
1969; also Andhra Pradesh Revolutionary
Communist Committee, "On Armed Struggle
in Andhra Pradesh", July 1969, mimeo
graphed.
32. Ch aru Maz umdar, "Carry Fo rward
the Peasant Struggle", Liberation,
November 1969.
Communist Committee, Problems of People's
War, loco cit.
-- Pradesh Revolutionary
Communist Committee, Some Problems Con
cerning the Path of peq?Ie's War in-
India, clandestine publication, late
..
1970.
35. Abhijnan Sen, "Naxalite Tactics
in the Cities", Frontier, October 3,
1970.
36. C. (handrasekhara Rao, ''What
to do?" Frontier, June 12, 1971.
in the current issue of
James 0 'Connor-Inflation, Fiscal Crisis, and the
American Working Class
David K. Cohen, Marvin Lazerson, and Joel H. Spring
Education and Corporate Capitalism
Bay Area Radical Teachers' Organizing Committee
Towards a Movement in the Schools
Gail Pellet- THE DIALECTIC OF SEX: The Case for
Feminist Revolution
Paul Sweezy-The Resurgence of Financial Control:
Fact or Fancy?
Past issues include James O'Connor on the fiscal crisis of the state,
James Weinstein on the IWW, Ellen Willis on consumerism and
women, Herbert Gintis on the "new working class," Andre Gon

on workers' control.
L
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44
I
1
Thanjavar
Rumblings of Class Struggle
in TalDil Nada
Several heads would have rolled on the
blood would have j10wed like the Kaveri in
if only we had not been restrained by
the higher-ups. But for that instruction from
our we would have put real fear in
their hearts. We would have shown them who we
reaUy are.
Adilingam, a thin man with bright, piercing eyes,
seemed to relive that tense September day in 1968
as he continued:
There were l2 police vans carrying hundreds of
Madras Special Po lice forces. We gheraoed
2
the vans; they couldn't move an inch without
killing several of us. We carried every bit of
equipment we could get hold
kitchen knife... TWelve of their men
were wounded; not a single one on our side. The
Superintendent of Police planted several white
flags on the ground and asked for peace. We
'We wiU release one van if you go and
bring our women you arrested last night like
cowards under rover of darkness. Go get them. 1
And our women were brought back in an hour's
time from Kivalur station. For the first time
in the history of our the police took
orders from the laborers. It was a great day.
This was how a confrontation between agricultural
laborers and landlords, backed by the police, was
described to me by a leading participant.
It was the village of Puducheri in Eastern Than
javur. The incident was part of a familiar theme. In
an area where agricultural labor was organized and
strong, laborers had asked for a wage increase of
half a liter per kalam.
3
A landlord who refused to
concede the demand brought in outside labor; local
laborers would not let outsiders harvest the land they
had cultivated. On the day of the harvest, the out
siders came to the field with police protection.
Several local women laborers also came, despite
attempts by the police to prevent them. When they had
harves ted about an acre, the police asked both local
and outside labor to clear out. They did; there was
no further trouble. Early next morning, around 3 a.m.,
by Mythily Shivaraman
FOOTNOTES
1. Tamil Nadu is the area
where the Tamil language is
spoken; it is used chief
ly to refer to the state
of Madras. There were
about 33 1/2 million Tamil
speakers in 1961, about
one-tenth of them living
in Thanjavur district (Ed.).
2. Surrounded and immob
ilized: a common tactic in
mass struggles through
out India (Ed.).
3. One liter is roughly
equivalent to one u.S.
quart, and one kalam is
rather more than 12 liters.
In 1952, harvest-time wages
had just been raised to 2
liters per kalam of grain
threshed (Ed.).
the police entered several streets in Puducheri and
rounded up 42 women, who were hustled away in a Eolice
van. Within a few hours, several hundred Harijan
laborers had gathered in Puducheri to fight the land
lords and the police to the finish.
I talked to one of the women who had been severe
ly beaten that night - a frail, anemic girl who
couldn't have been more than 20.
"A policeman pointed me out and said, , That's
the arrogant wretch who walked straight into the
field not minding us one bit. She deserves a good
thrashing.' I was pushed to the ground and a heavy
booted policeman kicked me repeatedly." She talked
matter-of-factly, simply, not a muscle in her face
moving. Was police brutality a routine experience for
Kathamma?
The police stayed in Puducheri for three weeks
"protecting" the landlords in the interests of
"production". The Harij ans of Puducheri left their
homes; it was bad enough when the nearest police
station was five miles away. When they came back
(and resettling them was a big problem for the local
peasant union) they found their paltry possessions
--pots and pans, old trunks containing tattered
shawls or wedding sashes-- vanished. Their "animal
wealth" of a few goats, hens, chickens and ducks
went to supplement the three-course meals provided
by the local trader --a landlord who so obviously
needed protection-- to feed the police.
No Wage Disputel
The Puducheri incident was one of the more
violent in a series of confrontations between the
landed and landless sections of Thanjavur in the
last three or four years. Landlord oppression found
its classic expression in Venmani, where 42 Harijan
women, children and old men were burnt alive a
few months after the Puducheri episode.
5
The Madras
daily newspapers, together with the scandal sheets,
informed us that Thanj avur was ridden with struggles
between local and imported labor over the wage issue.
As laborers persisted in demanding wage increases
year after year, the landowners exercised their right
to hire labor wherever they liked. Consequently,
local laborers attacked their competitors - the poor
fighting the poor. What else could you expect from
illiterate, uncultured laborers? The Mail went to the
extent of suggesting that in Venmani, the "Communist
laborers" had set fire to their own huts. This must
have been an unparalleled case study in masochism!
46
4. The Harijans of India
are the so-called "Un
touchable" castes. They
number about 77 million
out of a total popula
tion of more than 500 mil
lion. They are unusually
numerous in Thanjavur dis
trict, where they fom
perhaps a third of the
people. Slaves until 1843,
their ancestors then be
came bonded debt-laborers
(pannaiyals) or wage
workers. They live in
hamlets outside the main
areas of villages and
do the bulk of wet rice
cultivation for land
lords of Brahman or of
high-ranking Non-Brahman
castes. They were tradi
tionally considered highly
polluting and might not
be touched or even ap
proached by people of
higher caste. For discus
sion of caste in Thanjavur
see, for example, Dagfinn
Sivertsen, When Caste
Barriers Fall (Allen and
Unwin Beteille,
Caste, Class and Power
(University
Press, 1965); and Kathleen
Gough, "Caste in a Tanjore
Village", in Aspects of
Caste in South India, Cey
lon and Pakistan, ed. E.R.
University
Press, 1970) (Ed.).
5. In the summer of 1970,
a memorial built on the
spot of the massacre of
the Kilvenmani martyrs was
inaugurated by the CPI-M
leaders. Thous ands 0 f
landless laborers had as
sembled. A young Harijan
woman told me, "Can you
imagine that the landlord,
that murderer Naidu, is
still freely gallivanting
What a base lie this was became obvious to me
after I had talked to two landlords in Alathambadi,
not far frOm Venmani, about a year ago. Not only did
the laborers deny that the wage issue was basic to
the troubles, but even the landlords shrugged it off
as secondary. An emaciated old man, owner of about
15 acres, lectured me on what he considered to be
the source of the present problems:
Things used to be very peaceful hepe some yeaPs
ago. The labopeps wepe very haPd-working and
pespectfuZ. But now.. the fellow who used to
stand in the backyard of my house to talk to
me comes straight to the front doop wearing
slippeps and all .. And at 5:30 s h a ~ he says,
'Our leader is speaking today to a pub Uc meet
ing. I have to leave. ' His leader holas a
meeting right next door to me and parades the
streets with the red flag. These fellows have
become arrogant and lazy, thanks to the
Communists. They have no fear in them any more.
Listening to several other landowners, including
an important functionary of the DMK6 party unit in
Thiruvarur, was like hearing a broken record with
the needle stuck at the same note. The monotony was
relieved only by the vile abuse thrown at the
Harijan laborers.
"Throw J.May the Red Flag"
The root of the problem was easy to locate. It
was the emergence of the new, fearless, politically
aware Harijan laborer and his militant union. This
was confirmed by my recent visit to Kovil Pathu in
Nagai subdivision.
In the Harijan street of Kovil Pathu there are
45 families. About four of them own small plots
of land. The rest are landless laborers. About 15
of them still work as pannaiyals or attached
laborers.
7
The pannaiyal is bound to the landlord through
out the year. He and his wife work on the land and
in the master's house. In Kovil Pathu all the
laborers worked in the field of the local land
lord, who was said to own about 7 villages. Accord
ing to the laborers, who should know, he controlled
some 3,000 acres, although they conceded that there
may not have been even an inch of land remaining
in his name. 8 "Why else shoul d he build a school,
a rest house and a dispensary?" they asked. He
was also the trustee of a big temple. The land
lord lived mostly in M a d r ~ s and his agent,
"Iyer", managed the land.
in the streets of Than
javur!" She spat on the
ground and continued,
"Isn't there a single man
among us? Why is that brute
still alive? MY heart won't
be at rest until I skin
him alive and make a roof
for my hut with his skin."
Recently, the Court award
ed life sentence to a
laborer, a Communist, for
having killed a hireling
of the landlord Naidu;
around the same time the
court awarded ten years of
imprisonment to the Naidu.
The Communist is in jail
while the Naidu, who has
appealed to the High Court,
is still "gallivanting
freely."
6. The Dravida Munnetra
Kazhakham (Dravidian Pro
gressive Association),
formed in 1949. A Tamil
nationalist and populist
party, it is opposed to
North Indian economic
dominance, the use of Hindi
as a national language, and
Brahman cultural dominance
!
in Tamil Nadu. The party
I
at first advocated a
separate Dravidian state
in South India but modi
I
fied this in the 1950's
to demand greater economic
1
and political autonomy
I
for Tamil Nadu within the
I
,
Indian constitution. The
i
DMK won the elections in
I
,
Madras against the Congress
Party in 1967 and 1971. It 1
has, however, followed
Congress policies faith
fully. The Land Ceiling Act
it introduced had enough
loopholes built into it
to prevent any radical re
distribution of land. A
militant champion of social
justice in its opposition
days, it has now become the
wildest cheer leader the
47
I had heard that Kovil Pathu had a long history
of labor struggles. The absence of the red flag
made me curious. Its story was told with a deep
sense of bitterness. Not even a hint of this story
and similar ones I heard in several villages finds a
place in the reviews and surveys of agrarian problems
of Thanjavur which are now becoming popular with our
press.
After some years of relative quiet, Kovil Pathu
experienced a breakthrough in 1967. The landlord
refused to implement a wage agreement. The tahsildar
lO
came but nothing happened. Then the struggle took
several forms: forcible harvest (After all, who fer
tilized the land and planted the seedlings? Can we
quietly watch someone else walk away with what is
ours?), nonviolent civil disobedience, squatting
in front of the landlord's house, a show of force by
parading the streets in large numbers and shouting
slogans. When the officials came to investigate the
charge that local labor was denied work, the landlord
justified it on grounds of laziness and poor perfor
mance. The struggle went on and the laborers managed
to prevent strikebreakers from weakening their bar
gaining strength.
The landlord had tasted trouble and he didn't
like its flavor. In September 1969, the CPI-M
ll
organized an anti-tractor struggle.
12
Only five
men from Kovil Pathu were asked to join it. On the
day of the demonstration, the landlord, who normally
used one or two tractors in that village, hired about
ten tractors and lined them up in the field. In the
true spirit of TIlanjavur, the gauntlet was thrown.
Even before the demonstrators approaChed the field,
police arrested them.
During this period all the laborers of the Hari
jan street - only five had participated in the
demonstration - were denied work for about three
weeks. The police station, which is only a stone's
throw from this street, was overflowing with Madras
Special Police contingents. During this period of
unemployment, one night around 3 a.m. (a favorite
time for the police), more than 50 policemen entered
the street and pulled out the sleeping men from their
houses. Severe beatings followed. Ayyakannu, a
pannaiyal who had recently returned from two months
in the hospital following the beating, as well as
others who still bore the marks of that night, re
called it vividly: the raid was totally unexpected;
they had not participated in the demonstration and
they had had no work for three weeks; many had eaten
little during that period. The police came stealthily
and began thrashing the men. Ayyakannu, who still has
Green Revolution ever had.
7. The pannaiyal is a van
ishing phenomenon in Than
..
javur, thanks at least
partly to the pannaiyal
Protection Act of 1952.
The Act specifies the
wage to be paid and pro
vides for compensation
in case of dismissal. Many
landlords have preferred
to get rid of their
pannaiyals rather than to
abide by the law.
8. Landlords customarily
avoid having to surrender
surplus land under the
land reform acts by put
ting it in the names of
friends or relatives or
nominally bequeathing it
to charitable endowments
of which they remain the
trustees (Ed.).
9. "Iyer" is the cas te
title of Smartha or Sai
vite Brahmans, used as an
honorific term of address.
~ f u n y bailiffs and village
clerks are Brahmans (Ed.).
10. The tahsildar is a
government official in
charge of a taluk or sub
division of a district.
Under the Collector of
the district, he collects
revenue from the Village
Headman and has certain
magisterial powers (Ed.).
11. The Communist Party of
India (Marxist) is the
"Left Communist" parliamen
tary party which broke
away from the "Right Commun
ist" or pro-lbscow wing of
the CPI in 1964. (See
Mohan Ram, this issue.) It
has a strong following
among poor peasants and
landless laborers in
48
I
a gaping wound on his heel, was left unconscious
when the police went off with their booty, 33 men
arrested and in semi-conscious state. The pannaiya1s
were left behind.
1
The 33 day-laborers were booked on charges of
trespass in a nearby village. Upon their release
on bail, they had to walk to Thiruvarur, miles away,
several times a week, to appear before the court. It
cost them about Rs. 200 each. By then they had been
unemployed for quite some time, save for occasional
jobs in distant villages. The landlord's harrassment
persisted. When they were away the whole day their
cattle were stolen and occasionally even their chil
dren were taken to the police station. The laborers
couldn't afford the luxury of boycotting the landlord
forever; they approached him for work. The landlord
said, "Throwaway the red flag before coming here.
I want that flag removed from the cheri (Harijan
street). I should never see you again carrying that
flag and parading the streets." They were made to
sign a declaration that they had quit the Peasant
Union, that they would not attend new moon meetings
of the Union, that they would have nothing to do
with the CPI-M. The men got their jobs, back. There
is no red flag in the street any more.,
Down with Paraiyans, Down with Pa11ans!
The labor union is, the real target of landed
interests. The independence of the laborer and the
strength of his class are growing in the country
side, and landlords know that their interests are
threatened. The Vadivalam Desikars and Vadapadiman
ga1ams (local landlords of great wealth - Ed.) are
not foolish enough to risk a confrontation with
laborers over a quarter or half a liter of paddy.
They have correctly sensed the impending disaster
and skillfully mobilized the support of lesser land
lords, and even of many small fry, for their
"Paddy Producers Association". As one Alathtnnbadi
landlord told me, "Don't think it is only the agri
cultural laborer who has a Union. We have one too
and we can also parade the streets carrying flags
and shouting slogans." And in one such parade in
Puducheri, the slogan was "Parayan ozhiga, Pa1lan
ozhiga" (Down with Paraiyans, down with Pa11ans).
Against Feudal Oppression
The fact that Thanjavur has had more than its
fair share of "trouble" in the last three years,
and that, too, in places where the red flag move
ment has been strong, does not mean that agricul
tural labor struggles are new to this district.
The history of such movements in pre-British India
Thanjavur (Ed.).
12. In Thanjavur, where a
laborer finds employment
for only 5 to 7 months a
year, the introduction of
tractors presents a fur
ther threat to his survival.
The CPI-M protested against
the use of tractors in the
absence of basic land re
forms. In view of the
increasing ntnnbers of
tractor cheer-leaders,
including the Chief Mini
ster of Tamil Nadu, the
comment of an agro
economist is significant:
"In India they [tractors]
are not a high priority
investment . they do not
raise yields, they damage
poor soils and they dis
place labor.. " (Doreen
Warringer, Land Reform in
Principle and Practice,
Clarendon Press, Oxford,
1969).
49
is very sketchy. We have, however, evidence to suggest
that peasant uprisings against landlords, occasionally
the killing of landlords and seizure of land,
did take place during the British period. From the
early 1940's, the peasants and agricultural laborers
in Thanjavur were organized by the Communist Party.13
The strongholds of the Communists were the Harijan
streets. The only two parties which really had an
impact on the Harijans were the Dravida Kazhakam
14
and the Communist Party. Although E. V. Ramaswamy
Naicker's anti-Brahman rhetoric greatly enthused
the Harijans, the DK failed to mobilize them in
actual socio-economic struggles. In Thanjavur, this
was done for the first time by the Communists.
Yes, Gandhi and the Congress did open the famous
temples to the Harijans and gave the Harijans a new
name. But it was the Communist Party which led the
struggle to throw open the local teashops. In several
Harijan villages where the party is strong now, its
very first struggle was against untouchability
against the Harijan having to drink tea in a cup
reserved for Harijans, while standing outside the
shop. The people whom no political party would touch
(while making sure it had one or two Harijans in
prominent positions) became the staunch supporters
of the Communists. In the rigid caste society of
Thanjavur this worked, in a sense, against the party's
attempts to broaden its base by winning over the poor
and middle peasants across caste lines. The landed
interests worked hard at branding the Communists as
a "party of the Pallans and Paraiyans" (Paraiyan
Pallan kat chi). Using this caste weapon against the
Communists, the landowners were to some extent
successful in mobilizing the caste Hindu landless
and small peasants on their side in disputes with
the Harijan laborers. In the Puducheri struggle of
1968, the Harijans mentioned that many caste Hindu
laborers had assisted the landlords in harvesting
the land without their help. Puducheri is not the
only instance of this disruptive landlord tactic.
It is a familiar, universal game.
Apart from untouchability, the Communist-led
laborers fought the primitive and barbaric punish
ments which were dealt them. The slogans used by
the party at that time are very revealing: Sanipal
kudukkade ("Don't make us drink COW-dung milk"),
and Savukkadi adikkade ("Stop the whipping").
Other objects of the struggle were wage increases,
fixing of land rent and security of tenure.
"Behind the Trouble"
The landlords, the press and the Government of
13.Some references to these
peasant struggles are found
in Kathleen Gough's
article, "Peas ant Res is tance "
and Revolt in South India",
Pacific Affairs, Vol. XLI,
No.4, (Winter 1968-69),
pp. 526-544. An interest
ing comment in regard to
Kerala and Thanj avur by
Gough: "While poor peasants
and landless laborers
were drawn into the strug
gle, there was still a
tendency on the part of
the Communists to rely on
the middle peasants for
1eadership. the failure
of the revolts of the late
1940's was due more to
vacillations of policy
on the part of the Com
munist leadership and to
the fact that only iso
lated sectors of India
were at that time ripe
for agrarian revolt than
to a sectarian preference
for poor peasants and land
laborers. It would
seem that the Communists
have so far failed fully
to utilize the militancy
of the poor peasants and
landless laborers in
Southern India" (p. 530).
14. The Dravidian Associa
tion; formed in 1944 out
of the old Justice Party
by E.V. Ramaswamy Naicker,
a notable advocate of
independence for Tamil
Nadu. The party lost
strength after the depart
ure in 1949 of its more
progressive wing, the DMK,
and more particularly af
ter the formation of Madras
as a separate Tamil
speaking state in 1956
and the shift of power
within the Congress Party
from Brahman to non
Brahman leaders, which
50
t
Tamil Nadu have a stale story: the Communists are at
f
the root of the trouble in Thanjavur. It is in their
self-interest to create problems; by disrupting produc
I
i
tion and the normal functioning of life, they create
the anarchy which is essential for a Communist take
over.
The census of 1961 offers a more serious expla
nation.
lS
Two features about Thanjavur stand out
1
its iniquitous land ownership pattern and its enor
mous proportion of landless labor.
J
Land Ownership Pattern: Fifty percent of the
I
,
cultivating households own less than 2.5 acres each.
Seventy-six percent of the cultivators, holding up
to five acres, own only 37 percent of the cultivated
land, while about one-fourth of the cultivating house
holds, holding mre than five acres, own more than
62 percent of the cultivated area. Within this sec
t
tion, the ownership pattern is very much skewed:
3.85 percent of the cultivating households, owning
(
f
more than 15 acres, own 25.88 percent of the culti
vated area.
Agricultural Laborers: Within Tamil Nadu, Than
javur has the highest proportion of landless laborers,
and it has been rising. Thirty-three percent of all
workers of Thanjavur are agricultural workers, while
the figure for Tamil Nadu state as a whole is 18
percent. For every ten cultivators, there are nine
agricultural laborers in Thanjavur. The census of
1961 explains: "As most of the cultivators belong
to the well-to-do class in this area, in many cases
I
J
the actual cultivation is done by laborers hired
on wage, while the landlords confine their activities
to direction and supervision." It is doubtful that
many landlords in the upper brackets "supervise" the
I
land, for most of them have migrated to nearby towns
or to Madras. When laborers talk about mirasdars
(landlords) they invariably refer to the agents who
I
manage the land; the landlords are rarely seen. Al
though an accurate estimate of absentee landlordism
in Thanjavur is not available, it must be one of the
highest in Tamil Nadu. The extensive Hindu temple and
i.
monastic lands, managed by absentee landlords or
by the government, also contribute to this.
I
I
,
Although it reveals the high proportion of agri
,
cultural laborers to cultivators, the Census of India
,
comes to a curious conclusion about the nature of the
!
agrarian economy in Thanjavur: "From the ratio of the
,
cultivators to agricultural laborers it can be said
t that Thanjavur is an example of capitalistic farming,
while Salem (another district in Tamil Nadu state)
j
is an example of subsistence farming."
That such a facile definition of capitalistic
t
)
made the DK 1argely
redundant (Ed.).
15. Census of India, 1961,
Vol. LX, Madras, Part X-V,
District Census Handbook,
Thanjavur, Vol. 1, pp.
241-242.
51
farming should find a place in the census report
probably reflects the wishful thinking of some sec
tions of the ruling class that the Congress reforms
have already destroyed pre-capitalist relations in
Indian agriculture.
"Capitalist Farming"
Although we cannot discuss here in any depth
pre-capitalist or capitalist relations prevalent in
Thanjavur, the casual assertion by the Census quoted
above calls for at least a brief rebuttal. Capital
ist farming is not simply the hiring of labor to
cultivate land as against leaving peasants to subsist
by cultivating their own land. Hired labor is but
one of many requisites of capitalist farming. The
fact that in the past ten years agricultural labor
increased by 60 percent in Thanj avur can be bet ter
explained by reference to the impoverishment of the
small and middle peasantry, who have been forced to
sell their land, and to the large-scale evictions of
tenants.
The tenurial conditions in Thanjavur have struck
many a researcher, Indian and foreign. Wolf Lade
jinsky, the Ford Foundation consultant to the
Government of India who studied the suitability of
Thanjavur's tenurial conditions for the Green
Revolution, condluded that it was "a district
with one of the nation's worst tenurial systems ...
If land tenure conditions were a part of the criteria
for selecting a package district, Thanjavur wouldn't
qualify at all. ,,16 This was his second visit to
Thanjavur after ten years and he found that tenurial
conditions had actually worsened because the land
owner's right of resumption for personal cultivation
had been freely exercised. Actual rents ranged from
60 to 65 percent as against the legally fixed rent
of 40 percent. Ladejinsky also concluded that a
typical tenant of Thanjavur could hardly ever be
come an agent of the Green Revolution.
17
The unfair
rent and insecurity of tenure left too little margin
for investment, and too little credit was available
to the tenant.
One of the criteria to determine whether capital
ist relations exist in agriculture is the existence
of a class of innovating and investing entrepreneurs
using advanced techniques of production. The Green
Revolution has attempted to create such a class by
supplying well-to-do farmers with high-yield seeds,
fertilizers, and credit. This has undoubtedly further
enriched a small section of rich peasants and land
lords. But there is no evidence to suggest that an
entrepreneurial class is fast developing to replace
52
16. Wolf Ladejinsky:
! Study on Tenurial Condi
tions in Package Districts,
Planning Commission,
Government of India, 1965.
The Census has this to say
on the choice of Than
javur as a package district:
"The choice fell on this
district because of its
favorable agrarian condi
tions and abundant irriga
tion facilities."
17. Ladej insky' s proposal:
"We conclude .. that the
problem facing the ..
full success of the
package program is how
to enable him to secure
a firm footing on his
cultivated acres. This
presupposes more favor
able rental arrangements
which are real rather
than imaginary, security
of tenure, and whatever
land ownership can be
promoted among the
tenants. The initiative for
all this doesn't lie with
the package program but
with the government of
Madras" (p. 16).
the passive rent receivers and money-lending land 18. The Report ruefully
lords. The Green Revolution has grossly distorted admits, after acknowledge
capitalist development by crudely superimposing the ment of the Green Revolu
advanced technology (good seeds, chemical fertilizers, tion 's "notable achieve
,
and machinery) which is usually associated with the ments" that "as an
capitalist stage of production on the existing pre instrument of social trans
capitalist organization of production. Certainly
the Green Revolution has left untouched the high
incidence of surplus agricultural labor and of
insecure tenancies, the prevalence of share
cropping, and the power of parasitical elements,
while inducing a small group of rich peasants to
use modern agricultural technology. The technique
of cultivation is capitalist but the social organ
ization of production is pre-capitalist.
Venmani and the Green Revolution

The peculiar distortions brought about by the
1
Green Revolution in the name of capitalist farming
!
and increased productivity are now seen to be
doing much more effectively what was considered the
t
chief prerogative of the Communists, i.e., creating
unrest. A Home Ministry report points out the two
basic fallacies of the "New Strategy" of the Green
Revolution:
pests) by and large on an outmoded
agparian somal structupe. The intepests
of what might be called the agricultupal class
es have not convepged on a commonly accepted
set of social and economic objectives. Second
the new technology and having
been geaped to goals of with
secondar-y pegard to social have
brought about a situation in which elements
of instability and unpest aPe
becoming conspicuous with the possibility of
an incpease in tension.
18
i
After the Ladejinsky study of Thanjavur in 1964,
a similar study was done by Francine Frankel in 1969
for USAID. Frankel traced the roots of the Kilven
mani tragedy to the progressive polarization between
landowners and laborers, a trend which was accelerated
by the Green Revolution. It had widened the economic
disparities between big and small landowners and
between landlords and landless laborers.
f The political implications of this polariza
I
tion were most discernible in Eastern Thanjavur. How
did the new technology generate agrarian discontent,
1
especially among the small and middle peasantry?
j Frankel found that the scheme had originally raised
I
hopes in the peasant that all classes could parti
cipate in the Green Revolution. Yet,
,

,
formation" its impact
has been "disturbing".
!
l
I
i
f
f
}
I
I
I
I
i
!
,
\
I
!
f
I
I
I

53
An enquiry into the actual dist1'ibution of
benefits showed that economic dispa1'ities
between smaH and large farmers had substan
tially increased. Even when small far.mers
adopted the the mUltiple handicaps
under which they operated brought about a
relative deterioration in their economic posi
tion. As for the added to the grvwing
discontent caused by growing mate1'ial dep1'iva
there was increasing Pesentment over the
inequitable of the benefits frvm
the new technology.
The Tamil Nadu Government, however, betrays no
awareness of the Home Ministry's warning or of aca
demic studies like Frankel's. On every possible
occasion, the Ministers merrily reel off figures on
the area under double cropping, on high-yield seeds,
on consumption of fertilizers. As for "labor trouble",
hasn't the Government already enacted the Tamil
Nadu Agricultural Laborer Fair Wages Act? The "peace"
in the district since the Act was adopted testifies
to the justice done by the Government to agricultural
labor.
The Fair Wages Act
In the Harijan street of Valiya Nallur, a little
village in Nannilam subdivision, there are 30 fami
lies. Three are tenant families holding one to three
acres of land, and the rest are landless. For years
landlords had claimed ownership of the laborers'
homesites, but recently the laborers had heard the
village clerk mention that the land was
government-owned waste land. (puramboke). The
villagers seemed at a loss to verify this.
Were they getting a legal wage? They didn't
think so, although they knew neither the legal wage
nor how they were being cheated. After some question
ing and calculating - theirs was a contract wage
system unlike the simpler system on which the Fair
Wages Act was based - we found that a laborer lost
about 7 1/2 kalams during the harvest period. The
loss worked out to about 50 paise (half a rupee
or about ten U.S. cents) per day during the culti
vating season. The laborers didn't seem much surprised
when we worked out the amount that was really due
to them. They had known instinctively that they were
being cheated, and the questions of how and how much
seemed to them trivial. Periodically, they had asked
the landlord for wage increases, but they had never
had a s trike or any kind of struggle.
"Why? What's the use of going on strikes?" they
asked. "If we refuse to work there are many others,
19. Indian Express,
February 16, 1970.
20. Each village has a
number of sites, espec
ially beside roads and
irrigation channels,
which are classified as
waste land by the State
government and for which
revenue is not assessed.
In this case local land
lords had claimed the
waste land as their private
property and exacted rent
from the tenants - a
common practice. The
government-appointed vil
lage clerk is usually
threatened or bribed by
the landlords not to
divulge their fraud. In
this instance the clerk
seems to have been in
discreet (Ed.).
54
not only outsiders, but even caste Hindu laborers of
this village, who would be willing to labor at the
existing wage rate. No, that won't work."
They didn't know what would work. Certainly, the
Tamil Nadu Agricultural Laborers' Fair Wages Act
had not worked. Casual chats with agricultural
laborers one meets in the fields and in buses and
trains show that Valiya Nallur is not an isolated
instance. There are thousands of Valiya Nallurs in
which the Fair Wages Act is violated.
What is the implementation maChinery provided
by this Act? A complaint of unfair wages can be made
,
by an agricultural laborer to a Conciliation Officer,
an official of the Revenue Department not below
the rank of tahsildar. An appeal against the decision
of a Conciliation Officer can be made to a Revenue
f
Court. The District Court may in turn examine the
proceedings of the Revenue Court and order annulment
or reversal of such proceedings. In short, there is
t
nothing new in this usual bureaucratic routine
.. and the Tahsildar
I
In several villages where wages were far below
the legal minimum and other irregularities went on,
I asked the laborers, "Didn't you report it to the
tahsildar or the collector - why didn't you do so?"
I never found the laborers wanting in sense of
humor--they didn't sound annoyed at my naivete
but always laughed generously. In Ney Vilakku, 21
a little Harijan village in Val ivaI am panchayat,
where the local landlord had been carrying out a
I
vendetta against the entire village for more than
a decade, a laborer explained the functioning of
the Indian bureaucracy from his life's experience:
1
Oh if we go and complain to the tahsildar's
office a dozen he will come once-
I
though he hasn't yet come once to our street.
He will go straight to the landlord's house
and have coffee in a silver tumbler. He wiU
I
I
sit in the swing and chat with the landlord
for a while. After a good three-course meal
I
t
he will send for us. We will stand near the
gate while he comes out and sits on the ver
andah. 'What's aU the trouble you fellows
are creating for us?' he will ask. ' I have
discussed the matter with the Iyer. If you
want to keep out of you'd better
1
i
behave from now on! '

Murugan's anecdote has formed the subject of several
doctoral theses and research projects. Scholars and
critics, foreign and native, have reached similar
21. A panChayat is a
small cluster of villages,
or sometimes one large
village; it is the small
est modern administrative
unit and is administered
by an elected panChayat
board and president (Ed.) .
55
conclusions in dull, staid volumes.
22
No implementation machinery will be effective
unless the predominant element in it is the people
who are supposed to benefit from the law. This is an
experience of the agricultural laborers of Thanjavur.
In all the villages where the labor union (kisan san
gam) was strong, the harvest wage was six liters even
before the Fair Wages Act was adopted. Where the
wage was below that level, it has been raised mostly
in villages where the labor movement has become
strong. In Puducheri, the familiar tactic of holding
the wage line by threatening unemployment has been
successfully resisted by a strong labor union using
militant tactics to prevent the use of strikebreakers.
It took several years of patient work by Connnunist
Party cadres to help organize a people who had been
rooted in servility and acceptance of the natural
law of oppression by the higher castes.
The laborers of Valiya Nallur just looked vacant
when I asked, IIAren' t you going to fight for wh.at
is at least legally yours? What are you going to do?"
No, they had no tradition of struggle in their village.
No doub t a Congress flag had flown there for years,
a new one every five years. But a genuine labor 111ove
ment, a strong political orientation - all this was
foreign to them.
"We t 11 Fight Even If Everyone Has ~ Die"
What is it that can revive human dignity in a
long-oppressed and debased individual that can make
a man out of a human form, suddenly struck me vlhen a
laborer named Vadivelu, who lived in Ney Vilakku,
a militant Harijan village, told me.
We will oontinue to fight even if every one
of us in our village has to die. Ney Vilakku
has always been the lone fighter against the
landlord's oppression. No one but us has had
the guts to fight back in this area. This is
our land. Our forefathers cleared the forest
here and levelled the land. We have worked here
since our childhood. We will continue to live
here and till this land; no one can drive us
out of here. We will start our struggle again
soon.
Ney Vilakku had a long history of confrontation
with the local landlord - the Communist Party had
organized a union there. The residents, all Harijan
tied laborers, had agitated for implementation of a
wage increase in 1958. The local landlord was also
the trustee of temple land on which the laborers
worked. Soon after the agitation, a cow belonging to
the temple died. The temple Trust, which in fact
22. Gunnar Myrdal in his
Asian Drama concludes that
the basic fallacy of
Indian land reforms is
that implementation has
been left to the exist
ing power structure of
which the bureaucracy is
an element. However, the
Government of India does
not seem to share this
opinion, as is evident
in the most inane solu
tion it has so far offer
ed to this problem: a few
training courses in remote
hill regions on "how to
serve the people". Implant
ing values unrelated to
and in opposition to the
economic realities of
society cannot extend
beyond the classroom.
56
meant the landlord, filed a case against four men
who had actively participated in the agitation,
charging them with killing the cow. The case was
decided in favor of the four. The temple Trust then
fired all 18 of the village's tied laborers, as
they had all helped finance the case. An appeal to
the court under the Pannaiyal Protection Act failed.
Since 1958, the pannaiyals have been denied work on
the temple land.
Two years later, the temple was asked by 2 ~ e
1
j
government to form a cooperative tenant farm.
The Harijans wanted to lease the land and went to
pay a deposit for membership in the cooperative.
The Panchayat President, "Iyer", the agent of the
landlord trustee, refused to receive their deposit.
I
t
They had to go to Kivalur to hand over the money to
the Registrar of Cooperatives. A few days later the
money was returned and no explanation offered. The
landlord formed a cooperative with all his adiyals
and other 'loyal' laborers as members.
24
A woman,
t still enjoying what must be an old joke, said:
,
I
"Even the salt-merchant is a member. Once in a while
he goes to the Cooperative Society to apply for a
J
loan. When he gives his loan money to the trustee,
I
I
he gets a rupee. The merchant is mighty pleased."
A few years later the society was dissolved, with
arrears of 2,000 kalams of paddy from members. All
of it had been going to the managing trustee's
house. The society members lost their tenancy rights,
which simply meant that they continued to till the
!
temple lands as laborers. The trustee had proved
that ignorant tenants could not work a cooperative
I
successfully. Production was going down, and could
any patriotic person tolerate this? The land revert
J
ed to the temple for direct cultivation.
t
I
The pannaiyals had lost many a battle against the
I
landlord but the struggle continued.
Then there was the government-owned waste land
j
of four acres in Ney Vilakku. Every year the trustee
landlord would buy its cultivation rights at the
government's annual auction.
25
In 1961, however,
1
a group of laborers, denied jobs on surrounding
J
land (most of it owned by the trustee landlord),
decided they too would bid for the waste land.
The landlord's Iyer did not turn up (he was sure no
one else would dare bid), and the pannaiyals got
r
the land for Rs. 125. Twenty days passed and then
t came a notice that the land would be re-auctioned.
No explanation.
1
On the day of the re-auction, the Iyer carne
protected by his adiyals bearing arms. He got the
)
land for Rs. 400. The pannaiyals pretended to retire
peacefully; but after some time they found Iyer
J
23. Experimental coopera
tive farms have been tried
in many parts of India over
the past decade. In theory,
they consist of groups of
small owner-cultivators
or cultivating tenants
having security of tenure,
who work their lands collec
tively and together receive
loans for equipment or
capital improvements.
In many cases (such as the
present one), however, the
persons registered as
members of the coopera
tive are purely paper
members and the loans
are used by a landlord
or by one or two powerful
peasant members for quite
other purposes (Ed.).
24. Adiyal was the word for
slave in use before
slavery was abolished in
1843. It is still occasion
ally heard and here evident
ly refers to the personal
servants of the landlord
trustee (Ed.).
25. It is common for the
cultivation rights in
government-owned waste
land, or its produce,
such as coconuts, to be
auctioned annually. A
government servant from
the Revenue Department comes
to conduct the auction.
Landlords often agree in
advance on the buyer and
price (Ed.).
57
returning home with a few men, caught them and gave
the Iyer a severe beating with their slippers. A
case was filed against them. Seven of their houses-
those of the more militant pannaiyals-- were burnt.
The Iyer's men saw to it that they did not come back
to rebuild their huts. A few of the pannaiyals fled
and never returned; others lived for some time under
the trees; there was no point in putting up huts only
to have them burnt down. After the Iyer became tired
of this game they rebuilt their houses.
Until today they still have not been able to
find work in the neighboring fields. Every day,
they walk to Tiruthurai Poondi subdivision to find
work. The trustee continues to harrass them in many
ways.
Vadivelu ended this story with a challenge: "We
will continue to live here and we will find a way
to till this land again. We will start our struggle
again very soon." Struggle was part of the proud
past of this village, and Vadivelu its living
symbol.
The Red Flag - "No, We Can't Simply Let it Go"
Every society has a period of "peace" when the
exploited and the exploiters co-exist. In parts of
Thanjavur, this phase now belongs securely to the
past. The agricultural laborer, idealized as the
silent sufferer, the epitome of Hindu virtues, has
as last begun to take seriously the Gandhian slogan
"Land to the Tiller" and to behave as if the law were
meant to be implemented. Puducheri and Kovil Pathu,
Adilingam and Vadivelu, prove that the "peaceful"
past of Thanjavur can never be resurrected and that
the future will be a long struggle sustained by the
laborer's faith in a new social order in which even
the memory of his barbaric past will fade.
Puducheri and Kovil Pathu are, however, only
isolated pockets in Tamil Nadu, Adilingam and Vadivelu
by no means typical of their class. There are thousands
of Valiya Nallurs in Tamil Nadu still untouched by
ideas of independence, militance and struggle. There
are many laborers who still scratch their toes and
look vacant when asked, "Aren It you going to fight
at least for your legal rights?" The Communists have
touched only the periphery of the problem in terms
of numbers in the laboring population and of
politicization of these numbers. A visitor to
Thanjavur receives the impression of numerous
villages stagnating for want of leadership.
As I left Thanjavur, however, I felt hopeful: a
spirit of struggle, the urge to fight back, seemed
to persist in some of the villages ~ had visited,
58
even villages like Kovi1 Pathu where the movement
had suffered a recent setb ack. What the lab orers
there said as they bade me goodbye summed up this
mood.
26. An earlier version of
this article was published
in The Radical Review,
Hadras, April 1970.
1
"When will the red flag fly here again?" I
asked them.
1
"We can't do anything right now," someone said.
I
"We have been without work for so long and we are
dependent on the landlord for our livelihood today.

But deep in our hearts we, every one of us, long to
I
t
see the red flag in our street again. How can we
just let it go? We have fought under it for so
many years." A woman whose husband was hospit a1ized
for months after the police raid in Kovi1 Pathu
added, "How can we take it lying down? It is not
for nothing that we have suffered so much. No,
we can't simply let it go. We shall be up on our
feet again soon." 26
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59
I
I
Peasaat Classes ia Pakistaa
by Saghir Ahmad
Introduction *
In a very short time3 in China's
central
3
southern and northern
provinces 3 several million peasants
will rise like a mighty storm3 a
force so swift and violent that
no power3 however great3 will be
able to hold it back. will
smash all the trammels that bind'
them and rush forward along the
road to liberation.
l
Twenty-two years later, Mao Tse-tung's
unorthodox analysis and prediction came
true. The Chinese were the first to make
a successful peasant revolution. In
later decades, the Chinese example was
followed by peasants of other countries,
forcing the world to take cognizance of
their role as a vanguard of revolutionary
change. Barrington Moore has, perhaps,
best summed up the significance of pea
sants in social change:
process of modernization begins
with peasant revolutions that fail.
It culminates during the twentieth
century with peasant revolutions
that succeed. No longer is it
possible to take seriously the
view that the peasant is an object
of history .. . which contributes
nothing to the impetus of change.
2
But not all classes of peasants are agents
of change. Mao recognized this when he
wrote:
But has this great revolutionary
task3 this important revolutionary
been performed by all pea
sants? No. are three kinds
of peasants3 the rich3 the middle3
and the poor peasants. three
live in different circumstances
and so have different views about
the revo l ution. 3
The essence of much sociological
literature on the role of peasants is
a debate regarding the roles of various
classes among the peasants. In order
to assess these roles, it seems neces
sary first to delineate the classes
clearly. In much of the literature, the
tendency has been to apply a model of
the Chinese class structure mechanically
to other societies. Though peasant
societies share some common sociological
characteristics, they are nevertheless
marked by wide differences in culture,
customs and traditions. It is impera
tive to pay careful attention to the
relation between structural and cul
tural variables which have a bearing
not only upon class position but also
on class consciousness. In this paper,
I examine the class structure and its
relation with other structural and
super-structural variables as observed
in a peasant village in the Western
Punjab.
The Village
The data for this paper were col
lected in 1965 from Sahiwal - a village
in the district of Sargodha. Sargodha
division, like Multan and Bhawalpur, is
a canal colony area, such areas compris
ing about 70% of the cultivated land in
West Pakistan. In contrast to the old
settled districts, these were settled
mainly after the introduction of irri
gation works in the latter part of the
19th and early part of the 20th century.
The systems of tenure in these districts
are of two types: 1) peasant-proprietor-
ship with small holdings of 5 to 25
acres"and 2) tenancy farming, in which
large areas are owned by landlords. In
recent years there has also been an in
crease in capitalist farming, with wage
laborers employed to work on the farm.
At the time of this research, the land
of Sahiwal was predominantly cultivated
by tenant farmers.
60
The village land, whether cultivated,
quoms with castes, others with clans, and
non-cultivated, or uncultivable, is di
still others with occupations. Indeed,
vided between two landlord families, who
guom has elements of all. But it is my
also own two other nearby villages. The
view that quoms are best explained as
land of the three villages, a total of
examples of Weber's "status groupe." In
4572 acres, was acquired in 1867 by a
I
, common ancestor of the present landlord
families of Raj i and Khan. Farmers from
various regions of the Punjab were en
couraged to settle the land. They were
I
allowed to clear and settle as much as
they wanted. The exercise of such a
freedom was, however, restricted by
I
technology. One pair of plow-oxen can
adequately plow only 12-1/2 acres of
land. Hence, even today, when villagers
are asked the amotmt of land they own
j
or cultivate, they reply "one plow" or
"two plows" of land, meaning 12-1/2 or
25 acres.
!
The primary obligation of the settler
I
farmers was to produce. Those who failed
to fulfill the landlords' expectations or
I
demands were subject to eviction. The
landlords provided the agricultural and
residential land and paid the land revenue.
In return, the tenants paid half of all
that they produced and contributed begaar
labor when this was demanded by the land
lords. All the expenses and energy in
t
volved in agricultural production were
the responsibility of the tenants.
I
!
i
The settlers also included kammis,
those who manufactured and serviced the
farmers' tools and those who served the
village. The duties and obligations of
the kammis are traditionally defined,
as are the amotmts of their payments
in the form of annual shares of the
produce.
Sahiwal has 1,590 people divided
into 274 households. The household,
headed by the eldest male, is the primary
social, economic and political unit. The
quantitative data which follow, unless
otherwise designated, refer to household
heads.
Social Differentiation
Status distinction occurs in terms
of quoms. Differ.ent definitions and us
ages of quom have led many students of
Ptmjabi society astray. Some have equated
Sahiwal, quom distinction occurs in two
forms. There is first, differentiation
between Zamindars (traditional culti
vators) and Kammis (traditional artisans).
Membership in these groups dbes not spe
cify one's actual occupation, for many
Kammis are cultivators and a few Zamin
dars are artisans. These two major Quoms
further subdivide themselves into a num
ber of minor quoms. The names of 23 of
the minor guoms, such as Doogal, Mattan,
and Sheikh, identify them as belonging
to the major Quom of Zamindars, while
the names of 15 other minor quoms iden
tify them as belonging to the major Quom
of Kammis. In contrast to the single
occupation among the Zamindars, the
Kammis have traditionally performed many
different functions, such as weaving,
carpentry, haircutting, washing, etc.
Accordingly, the names of the 15 Kammi
guoms indicate ancestral occupations
Carpenter, Barber, Weaver, Washerman
or Blacksmith. Membership in these
groups is not today an indication of
actual occupation. Quom membership is
rather an indication of one's status
in the social hierarchy.
Although there is no exact corres
pondence between guom and occupation,
there does exist a high degree of over
lap. In Sahiwa1, 107 households claim
to belong to Zamindar quoms, while 167
households identify with Kammi quoms.
In reality, however, 131 (47.8%) of the
heads of households are cuI tivators.
This number includes 100 Zamindars and
31 Kammis. Seven Zamindar households
work in jobs other than their traditional
occupations. Of the 167 Kammis, o n ~ y 61
(36.5%) work full-time, while 47 (28.1%) f
work part-time, in one of their ancestral !
occupations. Thirty-one (18.6%) have ,..
become farmers, and the remainder (16.8%) ....
are unemployed, semi-employed, or working
outside the village. Altogether, only
75% of the Kammis can be said to be fully
employed; the rest are either unemployed
or partially employed.
The quoms have often been equated
61
with cas tes, which has led many to speak
of castes among the Muslims of rural Pun
jab. In an earlier4 article, I argued
that such an equation is inappropriate
and that the concept of caste is inade
quate for a proper analysis of social
stratification among rural Punjabi Mus
lims. Without going into detail, I will
mention a few of the findings which
might help further our discussion of
class structure.
MOst of the commonly accepted caste
characteristics such as a) birth-status,
b) traditional occupation, c) restricted
social mobility, d) commensal and pol
lution rites and e) endogamy do not apply
to the quom. MOst of the structural, be
havioral and attitudinal differences among
villagers are also not explained by mem
bership in different quoms. Similar
conclusions are reached by HaDlZa Alavi,
who recently completed a village study
in a different district of the Punjab.
He concludes that "caste, insofar as
it exists in rural Punjab, is a vesti
gial phenomenon and does not constitute
a reference in social interaction. "5 In
analyzing classes, however, we must pay
attention to one vestige of caste. Analo
gous to caste ranking in Hindu India,
there does exist a hierarchy of quoms.
Thus, when the residents of Sahiwal were
asked to rank the various quoms, they
universally separated the Zamindars
and Kammis into two ranked groups. They
further ranked each of the quoms (23
among the Zamindars and 15 among the
Kammis) within these major groups. Al
though the ranking of the quoms was
neither as "elaborate" nor as "discrete"6
as among the Hindus, Syeds and Awans
among the Zamindars and Miana among the
Kammis were assigned highest status. High
status alone did not appear to have great
political or social significance. For
instance, when the villagers were asked
to name village inf1uentials, none of the
Syeds, Awans or Mianas was named. They
also did not appear to exert any signi
ficant influence in the social or politi
cal arena. It nevertheless appears to
me that if a member of a high status quom
also possesses other valued characteristics
such as land, money, and/or a large patri
lineal lineage (biraderi), he and his quom
will be viewed differently and he will
play a significantly different role.
Unaccompanied by other characteristics,
the recognition of the high social rank
of a quam is more a reflection of his
torical tradition rather than of political ~
reality.
Another factor which impinges upon
the significance of quom status is the
nature of occupational and hence social
mobility characteristic of rural Punjabi
Muslim society. A common Punjabi proverb
is: "last year I was a Jul1aha (weaver),
this year I am a Sheikh (disciple of
Prophet MOhammad), and next year if the
prices rise, I will be a Syed (descendant
of the Prophet MOhammad)." In other
words, a rise in economic status or a
change in occupation also leads to a
change in social status. In Sahiwal
itself, there were cases of families
which changed their quom name on changing
their occupation.
In analyzing classes among the villa
gers one has not only to be aware of
these factors, but also take into con
sideration the nature and form of changes
induced by growing industrialization,
urbanization, and market relationships.
Because of the enactment of various
land refonn laws, and because of a de
sire eo accumulate capital and to invest
it in industry with the opening up of
opportunities in this arena, many Pun-
j abi landlords have in recent years
changed their previously tenanted land
into capitalist farms or have emphasized
the production of cash crops.
Both of these changes have caused
changes in the relations of production,
and thus in the village class structure.
Their net effect is a) to create tenants,
artisans and landless laborers who are
linked to their landlords through cash
payments that derive from the operation
of market forces, rather than through
the sharing of a subsistence crop; b) to
increase the proportions of laborers who
are hired for short periods, as opposed
to tenants and artisans having long-term
ties to their landlords; and c) to
impoverish tenants, artisans and landless
laborers and widen the gap between their
incomes and those of the more prosperous
landlords.
62
1
I
To deal first with cash crops, the
opening of a sugar mill twenty-five miles
away gave impetus to the village land
lord to grow more sugarcane. Previously,
,f
only a small amount of sugar-cane was
grown to feed the cattle or to make lump
brown sugar for domestic consumption.
f Now more than one third of the total land
is planted with sugar-cane, of which all
1
~
is supplied to the sugar mill. The re
j
sult is that the tenants are not only
I
j
deprived of growing one of the tradi
tional crops, b ~ ~ the customary rela
tions between the cultivators and the
kammis have been disturbed. Those fam
iliar with sugar-cane know that it in
t
volves greater wear and tear of farming
i
tools, which means increased work for
those artisans who are customarily
responsible for repairs. But sugar
cane cultivation also means that the
kammi, like the tenant farmer, goes
j
j
short of a portion of the wheat or cot
ton crop he would customarily have re
ceived and used for his home consumption.
I In theory, tenants and artisans receive
. ~
l
cash payments for the work they contribute
toward sugar-cane production. In fact,
I
t
however, the price of sugar-cane is paid
by the sugar mill to the landlords' agents,
and by the time they have deducted sums
for the tenants' seed, fertilizer, fines,
and current loan to the landlord, only a
I
I
few lucky tenants receive the rewards of
their cash crop farming.
A further shift towards capitalist
1
agrarian relations that impoverish the
I
tenants and artisans has been caused by
the enactment of land reform measures
and the threat of more radical landre
forms. These have led many landlords to
put a certain portion of their land into
"self-cultivating" farms. In 1965, the
two village landlords put more than 200
acres each into such farms, which are
I
t in fact land cultivated by hired laborers
rather than by tenants. This has meant
not only eviction of tenants but also loss
of work for kammis. At the same time, the
I
growing industrialization of the country
in general, such as the establishment of
textile mills and shoe factories, has
meant a loss of market for many artisans
such as weavers and cobblers.
i
Another problem in delineating classes
f
!
among peasants is the very definition
of peasant. Who is a peasant? Generally
it is agreed that the concept of peasant
refers to a rural cultivator and not,
for instance, to a fisherman. But at the
same time, those who thus define peasants
refer to Indian and Pakistani villages
as peasant villages. However, as we have
seen in Sahiwal, which is typical of many
villages, more than 50 per cent of the
population are not cultivators. They are
artisans, shopkeepers, village function
aries, etc. Are they peasants? If so,
what is their class position? Are they
rural proletariat? If so, how do the
kammis, who are paid a customary s h a r ~
of the produce, differ from the landless
laborers who earn a daily wage? In seek
ing an answer to these questions, we
must briefly review some of the perti
nent literature.
In his pioneering works
7
Mao Tse
tung analyzed the rural society of China
into five classes: 1) landlords, 2) rich
peasants, 3) middle peasants, 4) poor
peasants and 5) workers. The landlords
possessed land, did not engage in labor,
and lived by the exploitation of the
peasants. The rich peasants as a rule
owned land, but some owned only part of
their land and rented the remainder; in
all cases, however, they possessed abun
I
dant means of production. The people
whom the rich peasants exploited were
I
chiefly laborers. Many middle peasants
I
f
possessed land; others rented all of
the land they farmed. The middle peasant
neither exploits others' labor nor sells
his own. As a rule the poor peasant had
to rent land for cultivation. While the J
middle peasant did not have to sell his
labor power, the poor peasant had to sell
part of his. A worker had to make his
living wholly by selling his labor power. I
In Mao's analysis, the middle peasants !
and the poor peasants constituted the I
largest mass of the rural masses. The
"peasant problem" was essentially their
problem.
Harnza Alavi, while recognlzlng the
distinction between rich, middle and poor
peasants, argues that the "different
strata arranged one over the other, in
a single order.. is misleading. The
middle peasants, for instance, do not
63
stand between the rich peasants and the
poor peasants; they belong to a dif
ferent sector of the rural economy."
Accordingly, he distinguishes between
three sectors. The first sector is com
posed of the landlords and the share
croppers or poor peasants. The second
sector consists of independent small
land-holders or middle peasants, who
do not exploit the labour of others.
The third sector is that of capitalist
farmers or rich peasants. The farming
is based primarily on the exploitation
of the wage labour of the farm labor
ers. Thus there are "capitaZist farmers;,
independent small holdeY's;, shaY'ecroppeY's
and farm laborers"
8
(author's italics).
Kathleen Gough finds that the rural
population of Kerala and Tanjore is
divided into 5 classes in a manner
similar to Mao's analyses in China. 9
There are landlords, rich peasants,
middle peasants, poor peasants and
landless laborers. It appears that in
her analysis the classes tend to be
arranged one over the other in terms
of wealth and social status, and in this
sense, among others, she disagrees with
Hamza Alavi.
Among the most recent attempts, and
the one most pertinBnt to our case, is
that of Tariq Ali.l Following others,
Tariq Ali distinguishes five classes in
rural West Pakistan. l)Big landlords,
who own more than 100 acres and who
number 63,348. Between them, they own
31.2 per cent of the total area under
private control, and represent 1-2 per
cent of the total landowners. 2) Rich
peasants or kulaks own between 25 and
100 acres of land and number 286,470.
The area they own amounts to 21.9 per
cent of the total, and they represent
5.66 per cent of the total landowners
in West Pakistan. 3) Middle peasants
are the owners of 5 to 25 acres of land.
They control 31.7 per cent of the total
and constitute 28.65 per cent of the
total owners. 4) Poor peasants own less
than 5 acres. They number 64.4 per cent
of all the owners, number 3,266,137, and
own 15.25 per cent of all the land. Of
these poor peasants, 742,216 own less
than one acre of land, and must lease
more land or work part-time as
laborers to stave off starvation.
Tenant sharecroppers who own no land
of their own, and rural proletariats
(farm laborers who work for daily
payments in cash in kind) are lumped
together and are separated from all
those of the agricultural population
who own land. They number over two
million.
To discuss these writers briefly,
Alavi's analysis does not appear to
deal with the problem of rural social
stratification. His use of the terms
class and strata is different from
that which is generally accepted.
Social scientists, however rarely
they agree, do unanimously define
stratification as hierarchical dif
ferentiation. Speaking of "certain
common assumptions in all different
theories of social class, ,,11 Ossowski
speaks of the major assumption "that
classes are components of a system
of two or several groups of the same
kind.. It means that any definition
of any social class must imply rela
tion of this class to other groups
of the same system; . the notion of
middle class implies again the notion
of upper and lower classes. ,,12 It
is in this sense that I disagree
with Alavi and follow a rather con
ventional definition. Alavi's formu
lation also tends to simplify the
changing class structure. It will be
recalled that Alavi separates land
lords and capitalist farmers into
two different classes, equating the
latter with the rich peasants. This
creates not only theoretical but also
methodological problems. The two
property owners of Sahiwal, like many
others in West Pakistan today, rent
part of their land to share-croppers,
while another part is cultivated by
wage laborers. Are they to be con
ceived and analyzed as both landlords
and rich peasants? It appears to me
a difficult proposition to treat the
same group of people as members of
two distinct classes.
Tariq Ali, on the other hand,

64
reduces the whole problem of class
differences to the differences in the
amount of land owned. He does not in
corporate the notion of relation to the
means of production. MOre importantly,
all three, Alavi, Gough and Ali, while
dealing with rural India or Pakistan,
have neglected to incorporate the
artisans into their analysis. Not being
familiar with rural China, it would be
presumptuous of me to criticise Mao's
analysis on the same count. But for
those concerned with rural India and
Pakistan, the neglect of artisans,
who in some areas constitute nearly
50 percent of the population, is a
serious oversight. Perhaps this con
ceptual problem can be resolved if
we follow the accepted Marxist defin
ition of class and in defining the
peasants emphasize the structural and
relational rather than the occupational
criteria.
Classes exist in relation to the
means of production. This relation de
fines the positions people occupy in
the organization of production, which
in turn refers to a hierarchy of a
composite of social, economic and poli
tical differences. "The classical Marx
ist three or four class schema,"
i
Ossowski says, "is formed by the cross
cutting of three dichotomic divisions
I
based on different criteria: a) those
who possess and those who do not possess
means of production, b) those who work
and those who do not work, c) those who
employ hired labor and those who do not. "13
The exclusion of artisans from the
definition of peasant appears to stem
from the emphasis on the nature of the
occupation. Firth, for instance, finds
that "the term peasant has primarily an
economic referent ... The primary means
of livelihood of the peasant is cultiva
tion of the soil. ,,14 Similarly, Redfield
r
concludes that peasants are "people who
control and cultivate their land for
subsistence. ,,15 Potter and others, after
an extensive review of the literature,
conclude that the "emphasis on agricul
ture and self-sufficiency is implicit
or explicit in many writings about pea
sants, yet we believe that stressing
occupation and cultural content obscures
the really important diagnostic criteria."
These authors then defined peasants in a
manner which I find useful for our pur
poses here: "We agree that peasants are
primarily agriculturists, but we believe
that the criteria of definition must be
structural and relational rather than
I
occupational. For in most peasant socie
ties, significant numbers of people earn
their living by non-agricultural occu
pations. It is not what peasants produce I
that is significant; it is how and to
whom they dispose of what they produce f
that counts 1116 (Italics mine).
Historically, artisans have been an
essential component of rural India and
Pakistan. Their specialized skills have
helped in the development and survival
of the village communities as more or
less self-sufficient social and economic
units. The work of cultivators has de
pended upon certain artisans, generally
referred to as agricultural kammis or
artisans. In rural Punjab the traditional
reciprocal rights and obligations between
cultivators and artisans are best ex
pressed in the concept of seip. The
artisans serve their seip (cultivators)
with their particular skills, and the
cultivators in return are obligated to
pay their seipi (kammis) a proportion
of the agricultural produce and to look
after their welfare. It is because of the
nature of this work and payment relation
ship that such village artisans cannot
be treated as entrepreneurs. Those arti
sans who are enjoined in the contractual
relation of seip, and they constitute an
overwhelming majority, do not run a
business concern. Their economic fortune
is tied to those of the cultivators they
serve. This is not to imply that some
village artisans are not entrepreneurs.
The most striking example of a village
entrepreneur is the goldsmith, who, at
least in modern times, is not part of
the system of seip. Others can also
break their contractual relations and
become entrepreneurs, but this, as is
discussed below, entails structural
changes.
Like the cultivators, the artisans
are also divisible iuto classes as de
fined by their relation to the means of
production. The changes in the "modes of
65
production and of exchange" affect their
structural position. For instance,
when a village landlord starts a capi
talist farm or adopts modern farm
machinery, both share-croppers and
artisans lose their economic base and
become laborers.
Classes in Rural Punjab
1. Landlords/Capitalist jarmere:
In West Pakistan, those who own 100
acres or more are frequently classified
as landlords. Within this category,
those who exploit wage laborers rather
than share-croppers and make use of
advanced technology are regarded as
capitalist farmers. Such distinctions
are, I think, inaccurate and misleading.
Class position should be determined
by one's relation to the means of pro
duction and not by the amount of wealth
owned. In this sense, all those who
own land, who do not themselves work
to produce, and who live exclusively by
the exploitation of others should be
treated as belonging to the class of
landlords. Furthermore, the distinction
between landlords and capitalist farmers
is transitional rather than structural.
In this period of transformation from
a feudal-type economy to a capitalist
economy, many traditional landlords
have adopted new modes of production
and new methods of capital accumulation.
In Sahiwal, for instance, while most
of the land is cultivated by share
croppers, both owners have each put more
than 200 acres into "self-cultivating
farms". Since neither of the two owners
lives in the village, both the tenant
ed and the "farm" lands are supervised
by the owners' employees - the managers.
The difference between the two is that
in one case the tenants take half of
all that they produce, while in the
other, laborers are paid wages for their
work on the "self-cultivating farms".
In both cases, the ownership of the means
of production is in the hands of two
families, who never engage in productive
activity. The transition from landlord
to capitalist farmer does, however, in
volve some changes in social relations
and life style.
The relationship between the more
old-fashioned landlords on the one
hand, and tenants and other villagers
on the other, is more "feudalistic"
in nature. Although the share-cropper
is exploited, his exploitation is never
theless sweetened by customary norms.
The traditional landlord, unsophisticated,
uneducated, and well-versed in the customs
and traditions of the area, easily mingles
with the villagers, even when (as in
Sahiwal) he does not live in the village.
He also provides protection to the vil
lagers and helps them in times of crisis.
By contrast, the growing number of capi
talist farmers tend to be urbanized,
educated, and unaware of the villagers'
customs. Their whole life is alien to
the villagers. Thus, their method of
exploitation appears harsher.
While traditional landlords in
dulge in more feudal pastimes, capital
ist farmers are westernized; many are
invited by Americans to study advanced
methods of farming or farm management
in a university in the U.S.A. Many are
financed by one of the American agen
cies to participate in leadership pro
grams or 4-H activities in the U.S.
These new developments have caused a
cultural gap between landlords and capi
talist farmers but have not created any
noticeable division in class interest.
Both landlords and the capitalist
farmers continue to exploit the vil
lagers to maintain their superior life
style, to entertain lavishly, and to
spend money on securing elected posi
tions, which lead to the attainment
of positions of authority and extended
control in the larger society.
The demands of the larger society
are, however, contradictory. On the one
hand, society demands that the seeker
of higher positions indulge in "con
spicuous consumption". On the other
hand, he is required to have the back
ing and support of many people.
These contradictory demands lead
to contradictory behavior on the part
of this class. The need for money leads
to exploitation and oppression of the
villagers in general and of cultivators
in particular. The usual means of ex
tracting the maximum are beatings,
forced labor, fines, eviction or the
threat of it, refusal to extend credit,
and refusal to help against harassment
by outsiders. But such behavior is
limited by an equally important need to
secure and insure the continuing alle
giance and support of the villagers,
which is not only necessary for certain
types of success, but is also indicative
of one's status. This was exemplified
in the 1964-65 elections when both land
lords were interested in elective offices
for themsleves or their candidates.
They competed with each other in gener
osity and kindness toward the villagers
to secure their votes.
It is in this context that one must
understand the Punjabi peasants' attempt
to create competition, or to keep old
factionalism alive between their lords,
for the peasants benefit from suen rival
ry and disputes. I was amazed and amused
at the villagers' constant attempts to
create dissension between the landlords,
between the landlords and managers, and
between managers. The results are, of
I
I course, limited, for the landlords
make up the ruling calss. By controlling
the land on which the people live and
I from which they draw their subsistence,
~
the landlords have some control over
I
every villager. They set the tempo of
village life and standards of right
,
t
and wrong.
2. The Ricih Peasants: In Sahiwal
I
I
there were no rich peasant cultivators,
i.e. independent small landholders who
owned their own land. Hence the follow
ing observations are of limited gener
I
ality, based primarily upon the observa
tion of village entrepreneurs - the
goldsmiths, two carpenters, the village
Hakim and a few shopkeepers. They, like
the small landholders, also own their
means of production.
r The distinguishing feature of this
class is that they own the means of
production, but unlike the landlords
they do not live primarily by the ex
ploitation of others. The cultivators
in this class hire labor only at the
peak of the season; in addition some
have one or two house servants. The
only kind of labor the village entre
preneurs exploit is that of apprentices
or trainees. In contrast to other classes
I
they are fairly well-off and are able t
to maintain a decent standard of life.
I
On the basis of my limited obser
vation, it was my impression that this
class appeared to be one of the more
conservative elements in the village
society. Those in Sahiwal appeared to be
religiously orthodox, politically conser
vative, and extremely conscious of their
social status. Although the rich peas
ants in Sahiwal were not ranked into
a SOCially high status, they neverthe
less pretended to and imitated the life
of the socially and economically superior
group. For instance, while the gold
smiths were assigned to low rank among
the kammds, they enforced strict purdah
for their women, a rather uncommon
practice among lower social groups.
When asked for self-placement on a
five point hierarchial social scale, they
placed themselves at the top. The rich
peas ants were the only group in the
village which practised religion strict
ly. Among the five Hajis (pilgrims to
Mecca) in the village, four belonged to
this class. In short, the class of rich
peasants identified itself with the
landlords even though they did not have
the means to engage in similar activities
or enjoy the same life style.
3. The MiddZe Peas ants: The middle
peasants own land, but not of sufficient
quantity or quality to make an indepen
dent living. They are forced into supple
menting their income by other means,
most often by becoming tenants of the
landlords. Their great hope is to become
self-sufficient and self-cultivating
farmers.
In Sahiwal nearly 10 percent of the
tenants belonged to this category. They
were reputed to be "good farmers" and
they worked hard, attempting to save
enough to buy land of their own. Be
cause their ambition was to be rich peas
ants, much of t h e i ~ social behavior
was like that of rlch peasants. However,
given the reality of their economic
situation, they were unable to practise
the life style of their richer cousins.
Thus, for instance, while higher class
67
es advocated purdah (the veil) for their
women, the middle peasants were unable
to practise it without hurting their
ambition; the women worked in the field
with their husbands or fathers. Unlike
the women of the poorer classes, the
women of this class were generally con
sidered of good moral character. While,
however, the middle peasants advocated
greater religiosity, their actual be
havior did not conform to their ideal
norms.
In contrast to other classes, the
middle peasants spent more money for
the ceremonial fund. They also conform
ed more closely to the ideal Punjabi
norm of hospitality and generosity.
In the village they were named as
influential members of the community
ones called upon to settle disputes,
to judge the merit of various cases
and to be advisors in familial and com
munal affairs. The landlords and their
managers also respected the middle
peasants. While others often received
harsh treatment, the middle peasants
were always politely treated.
4. The Poop Peasants: The second
largest group of rural Punjabis are
poor peasants. They include tenant
farmers, or sharecroppers, and artisans.
The farmers depend exclusively upon
rented land as their only means of
subsistence. Some among this class may
have better equipment or more and better
animals and may be richer than those
who do not have these advantages. But
poor or less poor, their livelihood
depends upon rented land from which they
can be evicted any time the owner finds
it profitable.
The artisans depend upon the c u s t o ~
ary seip relation, whereby they receive
a share of all that their patrons pro
duce in return for their work. Their
subsistence, like that of share-croppers,
depends upon the fate and whims of their
patrons - whether those by rich, middle
or poor peasant farmers.
While the cultivators and the arti
sans occupy the same position in the
organization of production and object
ively have similar class interests,
one often finds social divisions be
tween the two groups. The tenants who
belong to one of the Zamindar quoms
conceive of themselves as socially
superior to the Kammis. This social
division is often exploited by the land-
"
lords to exacerbate conflict among the
poor peasants. However, it was my obser
vation that such a contradiction in
this class was an example of what Mao
Tse-tung calls a non-antagonistic
contradiction. When any element of this
class is faced with the antagonistic
contradiction, i.e., the opposition
with the exploiting class, status
differences are replaced by a unity
around class interest. For example, when
one of the landlords proposed the idea
of buying harves tors, which would have
enabled both the landlords and the
tenants to make extra money by supply
ing wheat in the market ahead of others,
the idea was rejected by the poor peas
ants. While the tenants knew they
would make some extra money, they real
ized that this would mean an end to the
customary share of mehnati-mussali (win- !
nower), and if mechanization was approvedJ
it might also mean an end of tenancy .
over a period of time. Similarly, in
the above mentioned case of sugar
cane, both the tenants and the artisans
together demanded remuneration for the
artisans, who were adversely affected
by the increased sugar-cane production.
The mechanization .and capitaliza
tion of farming hurt both the artisans
and the tenants; both are forced to be
come peasant proletarians. In this
period of increasing emphasis on mech
anization, the artisans are worse hit.
However, mechanization being only the
first step in the emergent capitalistic
farming, the tenants will soon follow
in the footsteps of the artisans.
5. The Peasant Proletariat: The
members of this class are neither crafts-;
men nor tenants. They have neither a
share of produce nor a fixed income.
They are laborers, and as laborers they
sell their labor power. They form the
largest army of the semi-employed and
unemployed. Historically, they are
drawn from the ranks of middle and poor
68
peasants. With the increasing mechaniza
tion and capitalization of agriculture,
their number has been growing. The
,
Planning Commission of Pakistan reports
t that mechanization of farms reduces the
need for labor by 50 percent. It is fur

ther reported that "with the arrival
I of the 'Green Revolution', i.e. tractors,
tubewe11s, new seeds, fertilizers, pesti
)
1
cides, etc., thousands of tenants have
been evicted from land". It is needless
to add that mechanization of farms affects
not only the tenant farmers but even more,
the artisans.
In Sahiwa1, at the time of this
study (1965), not many ex-tenants be
longed to this class. Instead, this class
was dominated by the artisans. It was
recently reported to me, however, that
more land had been put into so-called
"self-cultivating farms", which could
have been achieved only by evicting
the tenants or decreasing their holdings,
hence forcing them to work at least
partly as laborers.
Deprived of means to earn a living
either by farming or craftsmanship,
they roam from village to village and
l
\
from village to cities in search of
jobs. They form the majority of the un
;
skilled workers in the building and
construction projects. I was told that
the workers in the Rural Works Program
are drawn primarily from this class,
though they leave the Rural Works Pro
jects during the harvest seasons for the
agricultural work they prefer; the Rural
Works Projects then come to a virtual
halt. Those unable to find work survive
because of the generosity of their fel
low villagers.
I
, They are conscious of the status
differences among themselves between
I the ex-Zamindars and ex-Kammis, but
t the recognition of difference is not
acute.
Smoking, drinking, rowdy and bois
terous behavior are common character
istics of this class. The women of this
class are often accused of having low
moral character; from this class are
drawn the largest number of prostitutes.
The ins tances of e10pment, run-away wives
and abduction are more common among
this class. Objectively, this class is
the most exploited, oppressed and alien
ated.
Conclusions
In the foregoing analysis of peas
ant classes, I have incorporated the
artisans as an integral part of the
peasant social structure. This has
been a departure from the established
literature on peasants. The reason for
taking this position is both structural
and cultural. The artisans occupy posi
tions equivalent to those of cultivators;
some become village entrepreneurs with
control over the means of production;
their behavior and position in the total
economic structure are then analogous
to those of the rich farmers. The
difference is occupational rather than
positional. Similarly, the position of
share-croppers is shared by those
artisans whose fortunes are tied to
the cultivators. When the owners of
land, who rent their land to the share
croppers, opt for capitalistic farm
ing, not only are tenants evicted
but also artisans, who lose their jobs
and means of livelihood. Similarly, when
a rich peasant implements mechaniza
tion of farming, such as the use of
f
tractors or harvestors, the artisans,
r
such as carpenters and blacksmiths,
I
i
i
,
also lose their functions. The tech
nological developments in a capitalistic
t
mOde of production lead to equal pauper
ization of artisans and cultivators
occupying the class of poor peasants.
r
!
I have used the five class schema,
not only because it approximates the
observed reality in Sahiwal, but also
because maintaining the more or less
accepted classification will aid future
comparative analyses.
Among the five classes, the class of
landlords/capitalist farmers is obvious
ly the dominant and the exploiting class.
In the larger society and especially
in the rural society, they form the rul
ing class. As the country changes from
feudalistic to capitalistic, and from
agricultural to industrial modes, the
members of this class also change from
69
landlords to capitalist farmers and to
industrial bourgeoisie. This class is
dominant and superordinate in relation
to the rich peasants. In relation to
the other rural classes, they are the
exploiters.
The middle peasants suffer the most
inconsistency of position. First, their
class interest is often confused. Being
primarily tenants but part-owners, their
loyalties are divided. Psychologically,
i.e., in terms of aspirations, they
identify with and strive to become rich
peasants. But structurally their posi
tion is more akin to poor peasants.
Secondly, and linked to the above, is
the problem of status inconsistency.
While middle peasants resemble poor
peasants structurally, they neverthe
less enjoy a higher social status. This
conflict between their status and class
position creates ambiguity in their be
havior; their behavioral and attitudinal
responses are often extremist in that
they will tend to react strongly against
exploitation and at the same time they
will uphold traditional norms and cus
toms.
The poor peasants and the prole
tariat form the largest mass in the rural
population. They are also the most op
pressed and exploited classes. Among
the poor peasants of Sahiwal, it was
my observation that the artisans
were the most conscious of their class
position. First, they suffer status
discrimination, and secondly, they are
the largest proportion of the class
of peasant proletariat. They, more than
others, realize that any social or
technological change will adversely
affect their means of subsistence.
A desire to change their living condi
tion is most evident among the artisans.
The desire lacks any organized efforts,
but the changes are evident in individ
ual efforts. Of all the groups and
classes, the younger generation of
artisans have ardently pursued differ
ent avenues than the traditional
occupations. In Sahiwal, with a total
of 13 high school graduates, 11 came
from the poor peasant artisan families
and 2 from the poor peasant farmer$.
The only college graduate also belong
ed to this class. Of the five government
servants employed outside the village,
4 were artisans. Those whose jobs have
been eliminated, such as the tobas
(well-cleaners) with the introduction
of canal irrigation, have been quick
to retrain and learn new occupations.
In any organized activities for social
change, it is my prediction that the
poor peasants, and especially the
artisans, will form the most disciplined
group.
FOOTNOTES
I am indebted to Kathleen Gough
for her comments and criticisms of an
earlier draft of this paper.
*Minor editorial changes have been made
in this posthumously published paper.
1. Mao Tse-tung, "Report on an
Investigation of the Peasant MOvement
in Hunan," Selected Works of Mao
Tse-tung, Vol. I, Foreign Languages
Press, Peking, 1967, p. 23.
2. Barrington MOore, Jr., Social
Origins of Dictatorship and Democracy,
Beacon Press, Boston, 1966, p. 453.
3. Mao Tse-tung, Op. cit. p. 30.
4. Saghir Ahmad, "Social Stratifica
tion in a Punjabi Village," Contribution;
to Indian Sociology, Delhi, 1971.
5. Hamza Alavi, "Clan, Caste and
Class in Local Level Politics in the
Punjab (West Pakistan)", Paper Presented
at the Second European Conference on
Modern South Asian Studies, Copenhagen,
July, 1970.
6. For the literature on cas te
ranking, etc., see McKim Marriott:
Cas te Ranking and Community Structure
in Five Regions of India and Pakistan,
Doctoral Dissertation, University of
Olicago, 1955; and Stanley Freed, "An
Objective Method of Determining the
Collective Caste Hierarchy of an Indian
Village," American Anthropologist, 65,
August, 1963, 879-891.
7. Mao Tse-tung, Op. cit., Vol. I
"Analysis of Classes in Olinese Society,'
pp. 13-21; "Report on an Investigation
of the Peasant MOvement in Hunan," pp.
23-59; "How to Differentiate the Classes
70
1
I
in Rural Areas," pp. 137-43.
,
8. Hamza Alavi, "Peasants and Revolu
tion," Socialist Register, 1965, p. 244.
better ideas
. .from Xerox
9. Kathleen Gough, "Peasant Resist
f
f
ance and Revolt in South India," Pacific
The microfilm edition of the BULLETIN is
Affairs, Vol. XLI, No.4, Winter 1968
now available. Back issues on microfilm
69, pp. 527-544.
may be purchased for $4.00 for volumes
10. Tariq Ali, Pakistan: Military
one through [March two 1969-Fall 1970].
Rule or People's Power?, William furrow
Volume three, 1971, and future volumes
and Company Inc., New York, 1970.
are $4 per volume/year. Note catalog #
11. S. Ossowski, "Old Notions and
6049 BULLETIN OF CONCERNED ASIAN SCHOLARS.
New Problems: Interpretations of
Order from: Customer Services-periodicals,
Social Structure in Modern Society,"
University Microfilms, 300 N.Zeeb Rd,
in Social Inequality, ed. Andre
Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106 USA.
Beteille, Penguin Books, London,
1969, p. 80.
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71
Saghi.. Ahmad
by Kathleen Gough
Following Yahya Khan's invasion of
East Pakistan on 25th of this year,
a small number of West Pakistani intel
lectuals living in North America public
ly condemned the brutal massacres.
Prominent among them were Saghir and
Eqbal (brothers), Feroz Ahmed, and
Aijaz Ahmed, all university teachers
and writers. These men wrote open letters
to their government and articles on
BangIa Desh, demonstrated, and gave
media interviews, braving possible
reprisals. Together with friends from
East Bengal, they tried to inform North
Americans about the conditions of the
people and the character of the contend
ing forces in BangIa Desh, and to oppose
the U.S. contribution to that slaughter.
Saghir Ahmad's accidental death
by drowning in North Vancouver, British
Columbia on July 7th is a serious loss
to radical social science, to the
Pakistani and Canadian socialist move
ments, and to the anti-war movement in
North America. At 35, he was nearing the
height of his intellectual powers and
his capacity for political work. A
sociologist and anthropologist, he
wrote on class structure and class
struggle in West Pakistan, on the thug
gee guerrilla movement in Northern
India in the nineteenth century, on
imperialism and revolutionary struggle
in South and Southeast Asia, and on
the roles of radical social scientists.
At the time of his death he was a new
editor of Pakistan Forum and was
about to visit refugee camps in India
and to co-author a book on Bangla
Desh.
Saghir was born into an arena of
suffering and struggle, and struggled
all his life. A few weeks after his
birth, his father, a landowner of an
aristocratic Halik family in Bihar,
India, was assassinated in reprisal for
his support of land reform. When he was
ten, the impending partition of India
and Pakistan made Saghir witness to
bloody attacks on the Muslim community
of Bihar in which many of his friends and
half his kinsfolk were killed.
afterwards, he followed his elder
brothers to Lahore in West Pakistan.
At Forman Christian College in Lahore
and later at the University of the
Punjab, where he obtained his M.A.
degree in 1958, he took part in the
radical student movement and read the
Marxist classics. He moved to America
in 1961, received his doctorate from
Michigan State University in 1967,
and was subsequently employed at Oak
land University in Michigan and at the
University of Alberta and Simon Fraser
University in Canada. In 1965 Saghir
returned to Pakistan to study a village
in Sarghoda District of the Punj ab,
where he became deeply immersed in the
lives of the peasantry.
Saghir's intellectual work is the
work of a man at war with a part of
himself and with his colonial environ
ment, yet a man who, kindly, tolerant
and truthful, tries to distort nothing
and to give each fellow human his due.
In the opening editorial of Pakis
tan Forum (October-November 1970),
Eqbal Ahamd wrote: with few
we have failed in our pPimay.y intellec
tual responsibility of cary.ying out a
meaningful debate on the opportunities
for social and economic
definition of national ard
requisites for creating a balanced
and democratic society. Our minds and
our like our political
and social await decolon
ization. Saghir Ahmad's life and work
over the past decade offer a striking
instance of this process of decoloniza
tion of the mind and soul.
72
As a doctoral student in America in
the early 1960's, Saghir necessarily
became steeped in structural-functional
and other liberal social science approach
es. His early work uses the best of such
approaches to good advantage, yet from
the first he is dissatisfied and looks
for something beyond them. In his doc
toral thesis, Class and Power in a
Punjab Village (196i)"the authorities
he quotes and whose theories he util
izes include, for example, Weber, the
Indianist scholars Manga1am, Barth,
Harriot t, Mayer, Bailey and Nicholas -
and Marx. Saghir went to the Punjabi
village in order to examine the diffusion
of power and wealth which had suppos
edly been brough t about by Pakis t an's
laws of 1959 regarding land reform and
Basic Democracies. He found such dif
fusion virtually non-existent and says
so flatly at the beginning of his thesis,
contradicting the received wisdom of
that date. Instead of permitting a
diffusion of power through elections,
landlords had put up their managers
and front-men as candidates. In order
to by-pass the land reforms , they had
converted some land from tenant farms
to farming of cash crops with wage
labor, thus impoverishing sections of
the peasants and artisans. Saghir took
as his central theme the relation
between the village's economic and
political systems, making use of in
sights from British social anthropology
into factional competition in village
politics. His main argument is, however,
the Marxist one that political struc
ture and social stratification are
fundamentally determined by modes and
relations of production, and he shows
this convincingly, although in places
r
a trifle mechanically. This work is
especially valuable in providing an
early analysis of the real impact of
land reform legislation in Pakistan,
f
along with a rare explication of the
processes and relations of village
production.
In later articles Saghir deepens
his understanding of the Punjabi
village, gradually abandoning func
tionalist approaches in favor of his
own adaptations of Harxist analysis,
and attacking head-on the more perni
cious doctrines coming out of Western
research in Third World countries. In
"Should Pakistan Seek Modernization?"l,
written in 1967, he shows that Western
concepts of modernization are a euphe
mism for the spread of capitalist rela
tions and, more recently, of American
dominance, which in Pakistan he found
were perpetuating and indeed deepening
the poverty of villagers. He shows that
Punjabi village society is already
"modern" in that social stratification
is a matter of economic class more than
of caste or kinship groups, political
I
behavior is largely motivated by econom
ic considerations, and the baneful I
influence of bureaucracy is pervasive.
I
The peasants, moreover, are fully
,
"rational" in Weber's sense. Their dis
inclination for economic changes intro
i
duced by the landlords arises not from
superstition or blind custom but from
I
prudent collective and individual se1f
interest, since it is the landlords f
and not the peasants who reap the profits
from these changes. Thus in spite (or
indeed, in part, because) of their
I
"modernization", the peasants remain
poor, illiterate and largely apathetic.
I
These evils are in fact, Saghir argues,
"a creation of the elites of the
society", and "categorization of the
villagers as traditional provides a
rationale for their continued exploi
tation." His critique of "modernization"
in this paper and in "The Economics of
Agricultural Production" (1968)2 inde
pendently takes a similar course to
that in the seminal work by Andre Gunder
Frank in 1967.
3
Together, these articles
explode much of the mythology of
American "economic development and cul
tural change" studies of the preceding
decade.
In 1968-69 Saghir moved from debunk
ing current theories of development,
and from an earlier tendency toward
economic determinism, into concern with
the contradictions inherent in social
relations and with the sources of var
ious kinds of revolt or revolution and
their effects on social change. He
read Harx, and also Mao Tse-tung, more
extensively that year. His interest in
73
I
the historical roots of revolt in South
Asia became focussed in research on the
nineteenth century Thuggees.
4
Examin
ing the social composition, modes of
recruitment and operations of these
multi-caste, egalitarian rebel commun
ities, Saghir concluded that they were
not outcaste criminal elements, as
they had been depicted in the British
literature, but religiously sanctioned
guerrilla movements, armed against the
rulers and profiteers of an unjust
social order and working with the support
of large sections of the common people.
"Islam and Pakistani Peasants",
written in 1970
5
, returns to the
jabi village, but with a new perspective.
Influenced by Eric Wolf's work on
peasants as well as by Mao, Saghir now
probes the conflicts of interest,
obligation and emotional experience im
posed on peasants by their relations to
their kinsfolk and the local community,
to landlords and bureaucrats, and to the
literate urban society. He shows how,
with the help of local religious leaders,
the peasants try to handle and live
with these contradictions be
liefs and practices specific to village
Islam. The "Little Tradition" of Red
field and his associates comes to life
in terms of particular conflicts,
obligations, and privations suffered
by the peasantry. For while examining
major differences between the "Great
Tradition" of the wealthy and the
intellectuals and the Little Tradition
of the peasants, Saghir sees that "the
roots of such differences are to be
found in their historical and material
conditions of life." Islam as prac
tised and believed by the peasants is
thus not merely a product of parochial
ization or a less systematized and less
reflective filtering down of elements
of the Great Tradition, nor is it solely
an opiate of the masses or a prop for
landlordism. It includes, on the one
hand, a concept of the need to submit
to a hard fate - a fate which is in
fact imposed on the peasants by land
lords and bureaucrats. On the other
hand, however, the peasants believe that
it is acceptable to fail in formal
religious duties or to cheat or steal
from the upper classes, provided that
one is just and compassionate within
the village community. Such a religious
tradition which combines the contra
dictory demands of the State and the
landlords with those of the peasant
household community, cannot be recon
ciled with the Islam prevalent among
the upper classes or the intellectuals
who promulgate the Great Tradition. For
these classes, whether consciously or un
consciously, are exploiters. Their
beliefs and practices therefore focus
around other kinds of contradictions,
such as the need to combine exploita
tion with charity. In West Pakistani
villages in 1965, Saghir found that
Islam was above all a vision to which
the peasant aspired but which exploi
tation prevented him from attaining:
a vision "of human dignity and pride,
of social and economic justice, of a
community of men based on honesty and
love for one another."
Saghir's last paper on the peasants,
published in this issue, wrestles again
with problems stemming from the chang
ing character of their class structure.
The strengths of this article include
his effort to integrate the large
numbers of artisans and other service
groups of the Punjab's canal colony
region into a unitary class structure
with the peasants. Second, he recog
nizes the growth of landless labor,
umemployment, and impoverishment result
ing from land reforms, new techniques
of production, and cash crop farming.
Third, he perceives the varying cultur
al and psychological attributes of the
rural classes and the signs of emerging
class solidarity between poor peasants
and impoverished artisans. Fourth, he
explores further the contradictions
inherent in modern relations among the
classes, instanced by the insecurity of
the middle peasant, who in good times
seeks identification with the rich
peasants, but in bad times tends to
rebel. Finally, in this paper Saghir's
own decolonization and increasingly
revolutionary awareness appear in the
meaning that "modernization" has
74
acquired for him. It is now no longer
the spread of western economy and cul
ture; rather, in Barrington Hoore' s
:
f
words, "the process of modernizat ion...
culminates ... with peasant revolutions
that succeed." Consequently, whereas in
his doctoral thesis Saghir still
I
(
thought that the village influentials
(chiefly middle peasants) "could be
more fully utilized in local develop
i
ment programs," now he looks to the
poor peasants and the landless laborers
I
f
as forces for revolutionary change. While
he was writing this paper the massive
carnage in BangIa Desh and the resist
ance being organized against it
I
I
increased Saghir's sense of urgency and
his hopes for peasant revolutionary
struggle.
Over the past year, the political
persecution to which Saghir was sub
jected at Simon Fraser University,
followed by the crisis in Pakistan,
prevented him from returning to research
in his own country.6 Instead, he turned
part of his energy to broader Third
World problems and to Canadian society,
in a spate of journal and newspaper ar
ticles.
7
Two are most noteworthy. One
is a bri1lant demolition of western
theories of Third World overpopulation,
which demonstrates (to me, conclusively)
that "population is not the cause of
poverty, rather it is poverty and the
irrational structuring of society which
cause the problem of population. ,,8
The other article is an assault on
racism, poverty, and imperialism in
Canada and on the failure of Canadain
social scientists to attack these
conditions.
9
In these papers Saghir
is angry yet incisive. His style
gathers speed and color; powered by
indignation against his own and others'
suffering from racism and political
persecution, he writes from both head
and heart.
The values that Saghir found among
j
the peasants of West Pakistan, and re
ceived from his own family, guided him
I
in the many settings through which he
moved or into which he was driven. Where
1
j ever he lived Saghir moved people by
j
his passionate humanity. When happy among
friends or engaged in collective strug
gle, he shed a joyous radiance; when
provoked, a fiery anger. Although his
main loyalty was pemaps always to
Pakistan, he was an internationalist who
rooted himself in each local situation,
making the sufferings of the people his
suffering, and their struggles for
justice his own.
Two recent examples illustrate con
flicts induced in Saghir by struggles
going on in his environment, and the
honor with which he surmounted them. In
September 1969, after being denied a
renewal of his visa in the United States
and after researching for a year in
Canada without a teaching appointment,
Saghir came to teach at Simon Fraser
University. On the way, he heard
that a second elder brother had died
suddenly in Pakistan, leaving to
Saghir and Eqbal the maintenance of
a number of relatives. When he reached
Simon Fraser, Saghir found a majority
of students and faculty in his depart
ment about to go on strike against a
purge of radical teachers and the aboli
tion of a democratic department con
cerned with critical and experimental
teaching. Some of his acquaintances
were on both sides of the conflict
and "compromise paths" were being talked
of. After a brief inner struggle and
consultation with his brother, Saghir
chose to strike, risking his salary.
and the chance to teach that he so much
wanted. During the strike, he was sus
pended from teaching along with seven
other colleagues, and went through two
years of harrassment and delayed dis
missal proceedings. Finally, on June 23,
1971 he was arbitrarily fired, without
any due process, and looked forward to
a new appointment at Trent University in
Peterborough.
Although forbidden to teach, Saghir
spent his last two years guiding and be
friending students, researching on Pak
istan, and busying himself with the
I
struggles of British Columbian workers,
unemployed people, Quebecois, the anti
war movement in Canada, and, most recently,
I 75
,
,
i.
BangIa Desh. His last 'research' trip
was '\:0 Quesnel, a small town in British
Columbia, where a race-fight occurred
between white and Sikh workers. Saghir
investigated the dispute for the Georgia
Straight, a Vancouver underground news
paper, together with friends including
Anne Roberts, his beloved companion and
co-worker over the past five years. Yet
"investigate" is not the word, for
Saghir entered at once into the joys and
fears of the Sikh community, revelled
in their affection, and with difficulty
tore himself away. In every city where
he lived, he is mourned by dozens who
loved him.
A second and graver test of Saghir's
integrity was BangIa Desh. Saghir was a
West Pakistani who had grown up in a
period of intense nationalism, and he was
living precariously in North America.
Many of his kin had moved from Bihar to
East Bengal. As Urdu speakers of high
status, they served the government in
Islamabad. Saghir knew some of them to
have been killed in disturbances that
followed Yahya Khan's refusal to imple
ment the election results in East
Pakistan. Saghir also deeply admired the
government of Olina, which, however, was
continuing its support of Yahya Khan.
Yet when the invasion came he immediately
disregarded these complications, recog
nized fascism, and opposed it. Instead
of abdicating into passive observation
from a distance, he exerted himself in
the midst of his own troubles, leaf
leting, speaking, writing, fund rais
ing, and traveling, for the people of
BangIa Desh.
Saghir's life was closely linked
with that of his elder brother Eqbal,
who, with seven other defendants in the
Harrisburg Conspiracy Case, faces trial
on inane charges of conspiracy against
the government of the United States.
It is obvious to those who know him
that these charges are persecution for
Eqbal's legitimate and forthright oppo
sition to the war in Indochina and his
brillant analyses of American imperial
ism. From their corrupting, co-optative
situations in North American universi
ties, both these brothers came forward
and fulfilled the responsibilities of
revolutionary intellectuals. Now Saghir
has departed. Hard and bitter though his
death is to many of us, we must carry
on the struggles in which he was engaged.
FOOTNOTES
1. Abridged in Pakistan Forum, Feb
1971, pp. 3-5.
2. Alberta Anthropologist, Edmonton,
Winter 1968.
3. Andre Gunder Frank: "Sociology
of Development and Underdevelopment of
Sociology", Catalyst, Sunnner 1967, pp.
20-73.
4. "Thuggees: Rebels or Criminals?"
(Incomplete and unpublished).
5. "Islam and Pakistani Peasants".
Contributions ! Asian Studies, Vol. II,
1971, Ed. Aziz Ahmad.
6. During their second year of sus
pension from teaching following a
strike at Simon Fraser, Saghir and his
colleagues were not only forbidden to
teach but were also not permitted to
apply for university research grants or
to leave Vancouver for fieldwork.
7. "A Village in West Pakistan", in
Peoples of South Asia, edited by Clarence
Maloney, New York, (Rhinehart and Winston) ,;
forthcoming; "The First General Elections
in Pakistan" (unpublished); "Imperialism
and Underdevelopment." Review article
on Robert I. Rhodes, ed: Imperialism and
Underdevelopment: a Reader, Pakistan
Forum, Vol. 1, No.3, February-March
1971; "Crisis in Pakistan." Review article,
on Tariq Ali's Pakistan: Military Rule
E People's Power? , Monthly Review,
September 1971; and a series of articles
in the Georgia Straight, Vancouver:
"Laos: the Unforgettable War", February
17-24, "Indochina: Revolution and Counter- '
revolution", March 17-24, "Pakistan: an
other Vietnam or Quebec?" Harch 17-24,
and "Pakistan Struggles On"; April 7-13,
1971.
8. "Some Further Reflections on the
Problem of Population", forthcoming in
Pakistan Forum.
9. "The Role of Radical Social Scien- ,
tists", paper read at the Canadian Learned:
Societies meetings, St. John's Newfound- '
land, June 1971.
76
The Soalh Asian Revolaliona..y
Polenlial
by Kathleen Gough
I
, Socio-Economic Failures
I
When India, Pakistan and Ceylon
j
I
gained home rule more than two decades
ago, their leaders set forth certain
goals for their futures. Among them
were control of their own political and
economic destinies, increased product
,.
ivity and improvements in livelihood,
education and health, mixed private
and state-planned economies, some coop
erative institutions of production
and distribution, and movement toward
socio-economic equality. Land reform
and industrial development were central
to these goals. All three nations were
to be western-style party democracies
with progressively broadening franchise
in elections at national, provincial
and local levels.
By the late 1960's, it was clear
I
that these programs had failed or were
failing. The three South Asian nations
1
had more, not less, foreign invest-
l
ment and foreign control of their econ
omies than in the 1940's. All were
heavily indebted to the United States,
the Soviet Union, and various Eastern
j
and Western European powers. Some devel
, opment had occurred in both agriculture
f
and industry. Despite rapidly growing
populations, there had been modest
increases in gross national products
I
,
and per capita incomes. The social
character of wealth and its ma1dis tri
bution were, however, such that a num
t
ber of observers had concluded that the
I
living conditions of a substantial
j
I proportion of the people had deterior
ated since independence.
l
In spite of
land reforms and trade union struggles,
incomes were more unequal and both ur
ban and rural classes more polarized
than in the 1940's. In most regions
there were higher proportions of land
less laborers, casual workers, and unem
ployed than ever before. It was esti
mated that in 1961, 38 percent of India's
rural population and 54 percent of its
urban population received fewer than
the 2,250 food calories per capita per
day which nutritionists regard as neces
sary for heal th under Indian conditions.
The per capita calorie intake was even
worse in Pakistan, and (in spite of a
much higher per capita income)only
slightly better in Ceylon. At least five
million Indian children died each year
from lack of food.
2
Effects of Imperialism
The root causes of these failures
have been explained in a number of
recent analyses of imperialism and of
the economies of Third World nations,3
although there are of course important
variations between the three South Asian
countries.
After they gained political indepen
dence in the late 1940's, India, Pakistan
and Ceylon tried to pursue paths of
capitalist development, despite the de
velopment of a state-sector in their
economies and despite governmental rhe
toric about "socialistic patterns".
They did so with economies which were
severely distorted and impoverished
by over a hundred years of colonial
ism and in which there were already
large enclaves of foreign ownership.4
Choice of the capitalist path, and the
fact that the governments were them
selves drawn from the various classes
of property owners, precluded effect
ive planning of national resources for
77
the welfare of the majority.
In all three countries the capital
ist classes proved unable to solve their
economic problems in the post-war period
of monopoly capitalism and of technolog
ical, financial and trade dominance
by the industrial nations. Because of
increasingly disadvantageous terms of
trade, foreign exchange crises occur
red which forced the South Asian govern
ments to rely on loans from the indus
trial nations. 5 The reception of "aid"
in turn led to the acceptance of increas
ed foreign ownership, especially of
newly developing industries. The United
States has led in the penetration of
India's and Pakistan's economies through
government loans over the past two
decades, although British private invest
ment is still larger, in toto, than is
American, and other nations, especially
West Germany and France, are subsidiary
creditors.
6
In Ceylon, British and other
sterling area firms continue to own the
most private property, but West Germany
has contributed the largest loans,
with the United Kingdom, the United States,
and Japan as close competitors.
7
India
and Pakistan came to rely heavily on
foreign aid during the 1950's, especially
after a foreign exchange crisis in 1957
58, and became heavily dependent on
foreign aid in 1961. The country has
had a serious foreign exchange crisis
since 1966 as a result of drastic falls
in the export prices of tea and rubber,
coupled with increases in the prices
of imported rice, machinery and machine
made goods. 8
The harmful effects of foreign aid
and investment are illustrated in the
articles by Ahmed and Ram in this issue.
9
Both cause a growing proportion of the
receiving country's surplus wealth to be
siphoned off to the donor countries, as
private profits or as interest. As this
process continues, more and more of the
dependent country's foreign exchange
earnings are used to service the foreign
debt rather than to import needed capital
equipment or consumer goods.
lO
When the
dependent country approaches bankruptcy,
it has to rely on short-term emergency
loans rather than on long term develop
ment loans. Emergency loans, as from
the International Monetary Fund, require, "
however, that the dependent country under-j
go austerity measures which involve
severe cut-backs in welfare programs.
Because of its foreign exchange crisis,
for example, the supposedly left-lean
ing government of Ceylon, newly elected
in 1970, had to resort to emergency
borrowing from the International Monetary
Fund. As a result, it was prevented from
carrying through even modest programs
for welfare and new employment. This
formed the background for the growth of
mass unrest during 1971.
11
The Ceylon
government's resort to sudden, external
military spending to put down revolt
has increased its indebtedness, so that
most of its programs involving hospitals,
education and cheap transport are now
endangered.
12
Even apart from such emer
gency situations, moreover, the with
holding of aid has several times been
used to force the South Asian govern
ments into economic and political poli
cies they would not otherwise espouse.
13
Foreign aid and foreign investment
give rise to a distorted structure of
production which is harmful to the re
ceiving nation. Although industrial
development occurs, it is restricted
and its character is distorted by the
profit motives of capital owners in
both donor and recipient countries. Be
cause it is tied by foreign aid, the re
ceiving country has to buy capital equip
ment from the donor country which is of
ten expensive and unsuited to its needs.
Many factories are merely assembly p l a n t s ~
many cater to lUXUry wants rather than
to welfare. The reception of aid means
that the dependent count ry has to pay
high prices for foreign technical ex
perts and knowledge, while alarming num
bers of its own educated citizens re
main unemployed or abroad.
14
Counterpart
funds deriving from the repayment of
loans in the currency of the dependent
country are used by the creditor nation
to finance foreign enterprises, set up
educational and research institutions,
publish books, and disseminate propa
ganda; all of which support private
gain for the few, and which, altogether,
amount to cultural, as well as political
78
and economic, imperialism. 15
i
Until the mid-1960's, the heavy
J importation of food grains through sales,
}
loans and grants by the United States and
I
other nations to all three South Asian
nations staved off the need for serious
land reform and kept agricultural pro
duction and relations semi-stagnant. When
I
food surpluses from North America de
I
I
clined in 1965, United States advisers
recommended the new technology of the
"green revolution" involving improved
,
seeds, fertilizers, and tractors, sup

plied by the industrial nations. Although
!
unevenly distributed, these measures did
I
increase output.
16
They have, however,
as Ram, Shivaraman and Ahmed point out,
1 increased landless labor and unemployment
. ~
while widening the gaps among rural in
comes, and therefore have stimulated
agrarian unrest.
17
Growing dependence on imperialism
enhances the growth of monopoly among in
digenous capitalists, whose largest cor
porations become increasingly linked with
those of the advanced capitalist nations
through collaborative agreements.
18
The
concentration of capital ownership is
accompanied by increas ed income gaps
between large and small property owners,
between higher and lower grades of
salaried workers, and between all of these
and most manual laborers; it is also
accompanied by increase in urban unenr
ployment. Class polarization, in the
towns as in the countryside, shows up in
statistical studies of changes in con
sumer expenditures. In their study of
Indian poverty, Dandekar and Rath con
clude that between 1961-62 and 1967-68,
per capita consumer expenditures among
the bottom five percent of villagers
slightly deteriorated while those of
the res t of the bottom twenty percent
virtually stagnated. Among town dwellers,
partly as a result of the migration of
rural unemployed to the cities, consumer
expenditures deteriorated among the bot
tom forty percent. By contrast, both in
the towns and in the countryside, living
conditions improved considerably among
the top thirty percent of the people,
with the increase in consumer expenditure
being sharper, the closer one came to
the top of the income scale.
19
Increasing amounts of military "aid"
have had the most harmful effects on
South Asia's people. India spends a
third of its federal budget on military
supplies. About one-third of Pakistan's
foreign loans have been for military
spending, as Ahmed notes. Ceylon's
military budget was modest until recently,
but suddenly shot up in spring, 1971,
when the government imported large quan
tities of weapons. 20
In South Asia as a whole, the empha
sis on military aid has resulted from a
number of factors: 1) The Soviet Union
and the United States have competed for
control of the region; both of them have
therefore sold military supplies to both
India and Pakistan. 2) China, faced with
confrontation by both the Soviet Union
and the United States via India, has
maintained a diplomatic alliance with,
and supplied economic and military aid
to, Pakistan. 3) Specific inter-state
rivalries and border wars have occurred
between Pakistan and India and between
India and China. These international
conflicts are used by the governments of
both India and Pakistan to deflect popu
lar anger away from hardship and repres
sion in their own countries, toward ex
ternal "aggressors," as in the present
war-scare between India and Pakistan.
4) The United States, the Soviet Union
and lesser powers have aggressively com
peted for markets for their military
products in South Asia. 5) Recently, the
Pakistani and Ceylonese governments have
bought large quantities of additional
weapons to put down internal revolts.
As well as impoverishing the people,
militarization adversely affects the
class structure and quality of life even
when it is not used directly for
massacres. Within the ruling elite,
military aid makes the military in
creasingly the dominant partner vis a vis
the bureaucracy and the bourgeoisie. As
Ahmed points out, Pakistan's industrial
bourgeoisie was initially so small and
politically so weak that it proved un
able to organize political parties
effectively. Backed by the United States,
79
a dictatorship operating through the
bureaucracy and the military carne to
power in 1958, with a resulting loss
of democratic freedoms. In India and
Ceylon, political parties led by rival
groups among the landlords and the
bourgeoisie have persisted up to the
present. In both countries, however,
economic failures and social unrest
have been met by increasing curtailment
of democratic process and increasing
resort to administrative fiat and
recently, to military terror. Overall,
in all three countries, foreign aid
has fostered the growth of a reactionary
neo-colonial elite of capitalist junior
partners, bureaucrats and military
men, who link the subordinate peoples
of their own countries w;th the govern
ments and corporations of their own
nations.
2l
Soviet foreign aid, especially
important in India, was at first expected
by many to help build a strong public
sector and to combat the effects of
private foreign investment. In fact,
however, as Ram indicates, Soviet aid
has provided an infrastructure for the
development of monopoly capitalism and
has exacerbated the harmful effects of
western aid. Since 1965 the Soviet Union
has exported very large quantities of
weapons to both India and Pakistan,
especially to India. More recently, the
Soviet Union has begun to invest in
privately owned Indian factories which
use Soviet raw materials, to manufacture
goods with cheap Indian labor, and to
re-export them to the Soviet Union or
to Third World countries that are
industrially less advanced than India.
Like western aid, Soviet aid seems in
general to have been used to control
certain Indian industries, to provide
profits on the sale of capital goods
to India, to use Indian labor cheaply,
to make of India a base in order to
capture its internal markets or those
in other, less developed countries,
and to enhance political control through
combined economic and military loans.
As Ahmed demonstrates, imperialist
interference enhances disparities in
development among regional and ethnic
groups as well as among economic classes.
That between West Pakistan and East
Bengal is now the best documented, for
recent events have highlighted the
colonial status and nationalist aspira
tions of BangIa Desh. There are, however,
similar regional and ethnic disparities
within West Pakistan, where Punjabi
ruling and propertied groups dominate the
economies of Sind, Baluchis tan and the
North West Frontier Province.
23
In India,
the past decade has seen the development
of a similar industrial dominance in
northern and western India, especially
in Gujurat, Bombay and Maharashtra,
where the largest monopoly corporations
developed historically. By contrast,
West Bengal's engineering and textile
industries, once highly developed, have
stagnated. In general the eastern Indian
states of West Bengal, Bihar, Orissa and
Assam, like Kerala in the south, have
corne to resemble sub-colonies which
provide raw materials for export and for
the industrially more favored Indian
states.
24
Much of the industrial capital
of West Bengal is also owned by groups
in western India.
Regional and ethnic disparities in
employment and wealth create competitive
struggles among the educated classes
from different linguistic areas, castes
and religions. Western social scientists
usually concentrate their analyses on
these forms of competition, seeing in
them the perpetuation of "t raditional"
birth status groups. Today's competition
among the educated classes of regional
and ethnic groups for jobs in the bureau
cracy and the military, budgetary allo
cations, educational institutions,
industrial licences, and political power
through the ballot box, is not, however,
traditional, but is rather a feature of
state capitalism and of the unequal
relations that have developed within
each nation.
Beneath these ethnic struggles among
bourgeois and petty bourgeois classes,
more significant class struggles on the
part of vast numbers of propertyless
people are latent or have already burst
forth. As Alavi and others point out for
BangIa Desh, the educated middle class
leaders of bourgeois regional parties
skate on thin ice in their efforts to
80
escape internal colonial domination and
at the same time to hold their own pro
pertyless classes in subjection.
25
If,
however, these educated people continue
to be barred from access to what they
regard as their legitimate share of
power and wealth, many of them may even
tually join the poor in struggles for the
socialist transformation of their own
regions.
Rebel and Revolutionary MOvements
Against this background, it is not
surprising that spontaneous revolts and
planned revolutionary movements should
have arisen in the subcontinent during
the late 1960's. In November-December,
1968, a popular outburst of students,
workers and peasants swept both wings of
Pakistan for five months and forced the
resignation of President Ayub Khan.
While no new organs of power representing
the mass of propertyless people were
forthcoming from this whirlwind, it did
compel the promise of elections with
universal franchise for the first time
in the history of Pakistan. The far
left, under the populist umbrella of
t the National Awami Party, was weak in
t
Pakistan because of its support for
!
China's policy of diplomatic alliance
with the Pakistani dictatorship -- a
support which began in 1963. After the
rebellion, however, three revolutionary
groups emerged in favor of East Bengali
armed struggle against the West Pakistani
dictatorship, for an autonomous, socialist
East Bengal. These were the truncated
National Awami Party led by Haul ana
Bhashani, the Maoist East Bengal Communist
Party, active in the Rajshahi, Chittagong
.i and Pabna districts, and the Maoist
Coordinating Committee for Communist
I
Revolutionaries in Dacca. A third Maoist
i group, the East Pakistan Communist Party
(Marxist-Leninist) received recognition
from China. This group favored militant
r
struggle against landlords and bureau
I
crats, but opposed any nationalist
struggle which might divide Pakistan.
I
In India, armed revolutionary struggle
became publicized in May, 1967, with a
peasant revolt in the Naxa1bari district
of West Bengal. The revolt was led by
local Communist cadres who subsequently
broke away from or were expelled from
the Communist Party of India (Marxist),
which was then prominent in the state
of West Bengal. Although the Naxalbari
effort was crushed within a few months,
by mid-l969 groups of revolutionary
Communists, popularly called Naxa1ites,
were organized in at least eight of
India's seventeen states. Armed struggle
which predated the Naxa1bari revolt was
continuing in the hill district of
Srikakulam in Andhra Pradesh, and sporadic
guerrilla actions were occurring in other
states. Some, although not all, of the
Naxalite groups had combined in April,
1969, to form the Communist Party of
India (Marxist-Leninist). The party had
an avowedly Marxist program and received
approval from the government of Olina.
Although it was difficult to judge the
significance of the several Maoist
tendencies from North America, it seemeed
likely that a revolutionary Communism
which would draw heavily on Chinese
theory and experience had come to India
to stay.
Even in those parts of India where
there were no obvious symptoms of revolu
tionary class struggle, things had changed
drastically. The Congress Party, which
had brought the country to political
independence in 1947 and had governed it
virtually single-handedly, lost heavily
in the 1967 elections. Its majority in
the Central Assembly was decreased and
it lost control of eight of India's
seventeen state governments. In general
there was a sense of growing political
polarization, accompanied by growing
prominence of both far right- and far
left-wing parties. The former, repre
sented by the Hindi communalist Jan Sangh
and the "free enterprise" Swatantra
Party, led the governments in Orissa and
Delhi. The latter, led numerically by the
independent Communist Party of India
(Marxist) or CPI-M, and supported by the
pro-Moscow Communist Party and other
groups, won in Kerala and Bengal. The
communist movement had been strong among
sections of the Indian workers and pea
sants ever since independence in the
heavily populated coastal regions of
Bengal, Andhra Pradesh, Tamil Nadu and
81
-- states having unusually high
proportions of landless laborers and of
both rural and urb an unemployed. It was
also strong in certain tribal hill regions
of Bengal, Andhra Pradesh and Kerala.
The political party picture as repre
sented in election results did not, more
over, fully reflect the growth of class
struggle in India. One sign of this
growth was the fact that whereas in the
early 1960's village elections had tended
to be fought between factions led by
opposed groups of landlords, by the mid
to late 1960's in many parts of the
country they were being fought, under
a variety of party banners, essentially
between landed and land-poor classes.
26
Both of the communist parliamentary
parties (CPI and CPI-M) condemned the
"adventurism" of the Naxa1ites and,
in West Bengal, were instrumental in
their repression. By 1970, however,
both parties were being pushed by the
impatience. of the landless and the
working classes into leading strikes,
land-seizures, and other militant actions.
In many parts of India one read con
stantly of gheraos -- spontaneous encir
clement by workers or peasants of people
in authority (cabinet ministers, land
lords, and plantation or factory mana
gers) -- in order to compel them to ful
fill some immediate demand.
In Ceylon the main revolutionary
group was the Janata Vimukthi Peramuna
(People's Liberation Front). It was or
ganized clandestinely in 1966 by Rohan
Wijeweera, a former student of Lumumba
University in Moscow. Wijeweera and his
comrades worked first in the pro-MOscow
Communist Party and then in the small
pro-Chinese Communist Party of Ceylon,
but left both in the belief that neither
could come to grips with present realities
in Ceylon. The JVP leans towards a
Maoist interpretation of Asian society
in its belief that the peasantry form the
main guerilla force, but has been called
"Guevarist" because of its view that the
urban working class cannot, at least at
present, playa leading role in the revo
lutionary struggle, and because of its
heavy reliance on educated youth and on
clandestine guerilla groups. The party
supported "progressive" candidates during
the May 1970 elections in Ceylon. A num
ber of its leaders were, however,
arrested by the pre-election United
National Party government on trumped-
up charges of plans to attack polling
booths. After the elections, the party
organized rallies of up to 15,000 people
to secure th.e release of its leaders and
to explain its policies. Under increasing
repression by the new, United Front govern
ment in summer, 1970, the JVP formed a
front with the revolutionary Trotskyist
organization of Bala Tampoe (the Lauka
Sama Samaja Party -- Revolutionary) which
has a following among rubber workers and
in the Ceylon Mercantile Union. This
front was also joined by the Young Social
ist Front, a newly formed revolutionary
trade union among the Tamil tea-workers.
27
In this new front the JVP, hitherto sup
ported mainly by Sinhalese village pea
sants, joined forces with revolutionary
groups representing the two other major
sectors of Ceylon's propertyless classes
the urban proletariat and the plantation
workers of Indian origin.
Except among Tamils of Jaffna in
northern Ceylon and among Roman Catholics,
the Front gained wide support from pea
sants, plantation workers and educated
youth, especially of the lower ranking
Sinhalese fishing and service castes. It
procured large quantities of weapons,
some of which were stored in universities.
London newspapers reported that they were
eventually to be used in an insurrection
in which guerrillas would simultaneously
occupy police, army, radio, electric and
telecommunications stations. 28 Whether,
as is charged by the Bandaranaike regime,
the Front actually planned in advance to
overthrow the government in mid-April on
the Sinhalese and Tamil New Year days, or
whether (as supporters of the Front out
side Ceylon assert) no such immediate
plan was in the offing, is to me.
Repression
During the past year, cataclysmic
events have occurred in all three coun
tries of the subcontinent. There are some
similarities of pattern. In 1970-71 all
82
three nations held general elections.
Parties were elected, with large majori
ties, which seemed to many to reflect
progressive if gradualist tendencies
rather than far right or far left
"extremism." In Ceylon a United Front
of Mrs. Bandaranaike's Sri Lanka Free
com Party, the Trotskyist Lanka Sama
Samaja Party, and the pro-Moscow Com
munist Party swept the polls in May,
1970, defeating the supposedly 1IX)re con
servative United National Party. In
Pakistan, various splinter groups of
the right-wing Muslim League were com
pletely defeated in December, 1970, in
West Pakistan by the social democratic
People's Party and in East Pakistan by
the Awami League. The latter (as Feroz
Ahmed explains) represented chiefly
Bengali middle class aspirations for
educated employment and for escape from
the colonial exploitation to which East
Pakistan had been increasingly sub
jected by the West Pakistani ruling
elite. In India in March, 1971, Mrs.
Indira Gandhi's New Congress Party won
a landslide victory on the slogan of
"Remove Poverty and the Privy Purses of
Maharajas" (Le., the state-paid incomes
of former princes). In most areas the
new party trounced th.e more conservative
coalition of the opposition Congress,
Jan Sangh and Swatantra parties.
In all three countries, however, im
portant revolutionary groups boycotted
the elections. 29 They did so either
because of objections to the constitu
f
tional framework or because of their
conviction that parliamentarism was
,
I
played out and only revolutionary strug
gle could materially change the lot of
I
, the common people. Those parliamentary
, parties which were theoretically dedi
cated to revolutionary change so moderated
r their policies or so entangled themselves
in electoral arrangements with bourgeois
f
f
parties that they offered no very clear
programatic alternatives. 30 This being
so, the largest mass of voters appears
to have opted for the seemingly more pro
I gressive of the es tablished parties.
Since that time, the ruling groups
in Pakistan and Ceylon have carried out
pre-emptive slaughter of those dissident
J
I
I
groups which threatened their own power.
In Pakistan Yahya Khan rejected the elec
tion results with their verdict of nation
al dominance by the Awami League and of
partial autonomy for East Pakistan. Backed
by continuing United States military aid,
West Pakistani forces invaded East Bengal
(which contains a majority of Pakistan's
population), massacred some 600,000
people -- Hindu and Muslim, peasant,
worker and intellectual -- and drove
almost ten million refugees into neigh
boring West Bengal in India. Five thousand
refugees died of cholera, and many tens of
thousands, both in West and East Bengal,
of famine. Unless massive international
aid is forthcoming, half the refugee
children now in India are expected to
die of starvation. In West Pakistan,
amid an economic crisis and labor unrest
produced by the war, the government
carried out mass arrests of trade union
ists, students, political leaders, striking
workers, intellectuals, and newspaper
editors in every province. Numerous lead
ers and members of the Kisan-Mazdoor
(Peasant-Worker) Party in the North West
Frontier Province, of the National Awami
Party (pro-Moscow faction), and of the
People's Party have been arrested. A total
of about 800 arrests without trial was
reported on September 15, and there have
been public floggings of an unknown num
ber of dissenters.
3l
In Ceylon, the Bandaranaike government
suddenly declared a national emergency on
March 15, 1971. On slight provocation, or
apparently even on trumped-up charges,
the government carried out a massacre of
youths suspected of membership in or sym
pathy with the People's Liberation Front.
Estimates of the numbers killed vary
between 1500 and 10,000. Some 16,000
others were jailed.
32
During April, the
three-party revolutionary front fought
back vigorously, revealing wide popular
support. Its guerrillas were estimated
at 30,000 to 80,000, against initial C e ~
Ion government forces of about 18,000.
3
Western reporters stated that the insur
rectionis ts almcst succeeded in over
throwing the government on the night of
AprilS. This may, however, have been an
exaggeration designed to justify the
government's mas,ive resort to external
83
military aid and to the killing of
young people, some of whom were cap
tured and then executed without trial.
The goal of the government forces was
evidently to uproot the front's infra
structure before it could spread further.
"We have learned too many lessons from
Vietnam and Malaysia. We must destroy
them completely," Lieutenant Colonel
Cyril Ranatunga, a Sandhurst graduate,
is reported to have said. A senior
officer told reporters, "Once we are
convinced prisoners are insurgents, we
take them to the cemetary and dispose of
them. "34 In this counterinsurgency oper
ation the Ceylon government received
military aid from Britain, the United
States, the USSR, the United Arab Repub
lic, Pakistan, Yugoslavia, and
and in April, 1971, a $30
million interest-free loan from China.
The North Korean embassy was accused
by the government of helping the insur
gents and was expelled, but no evidence
was produced against members of the
embassy staff. Youthful Trotskyists,
"Guevaris ts" an d Mao is ts thus found
themselves fighting a bourgeois govern
ment which included Communists and Trot
skyists in its cabinet and was aided by
the U.S.A., the U.S.S.R. and China. Each
of these three powers took the position
that the rebels were, as a letter from
Chou En-lai to Mrs. Bandaranaike put it,
"a handful of persons" trying to create
"a chaotic situation," aided by "foreign
spies. "36
Repression in India has been less
dramatic and more localized but nonethe
less real. MOhan Ram describes in this
issue the Indian government's deployment
of troops against tribal peasants in
Andhra Pradesh on March 1, 1971. In other
states thousands of Naxalites or Naxalite
supporters, and considerable numbers of
the parliamentary CPI-M, have been arrest
ed under emergency measures during the
past few months, especially in West Ben
gal. Hundreds have been shot in jails or
in the streets.
37
While in Pakistan,
therefore, the nation itself has been
shattered as a legitimate moral entity,
in India and Ceylon parliamentary process
and the rule of law have been made a
mockery This impression is reinforced
by the Indian government's increasing
tendency to suspend state legislatures
on the pretext of breakdown of law and
order, as it has done recently in Punjab
and Bengal.
Revolutionary Weaknesses
Despite the sharpening of class
struggle and the recent massacres, India,
Pakistan and Ceylon lack strong and uni
fied revolutionary socialist movements.
Although they have recently waged heroic
struggles, the revolutionary in
India and Ceylon are still fragmented.
In BangIa Desh an envading army has forced
a national liberation struggle upon the
people, but one for which its Marxist
groups were unprepared in advance.
Several reasons suggest themselves for
the present weakness of the Left forces
and for their failure to bring about a
revolution in previous decades.
First, the Marxist parties in these
countries emerged several decades ago
under the influence of the Russian revo
lution. Given the failure of their earlier
militant efforts, the older leaders in
these parties have lost the elan neces
sary to cope with a new revolutionary
situation and their theories and methods
tend to be outmoded. In the case of the
pro-MOscow Communist parties there have
also been ideological changes since the
mid-1950's, so that these parties now
actually eschew revolutionary struggle.
Second, in spite of the long history
of the Marxist parties, I suggest that
objective conditions in the subcontinent
have not been conducive to large scale
revolutionary struggle until four to five
years ago. It is true that South Asia
has suffered the most abysmal poverty,
marked periodically by devastating
famines, ever since the British began
to wreck and plunder its economy in the
late eighteenth century. Since that time
sporadic revolts by former rulers, or
by peasants, tribespeople, religious
groups or guerrilla movements have been
quite common and the spirit of rebellion
has never died. Significant communist-led
peasant revolutionary struggles did,
moreover, take place shortly hefore and
84
after independence, notably in East
!
Bengal after the famine of World War II
1
and in Telegana under the uncertainties
I
of the change of power. 38 There was also
a revolt in the Indian navy, and com
1
)
munist-led peasant uprisings occurred
in Thanjavur, Kerala and other states.
r
These were, however, localized actions
confined largely to particular tribal
~
1
or low caste groups or to a rather
narrow range of peasant classes.
l
The chief reason why nationwide
1
revolutionary struggle has not occurred
in this century is, I suggest, that un
like China or Southeast Asia, the Indian
subcontinent was not subjected to comr
petition between colonial powers nor to
invasion by a new colonial power either
before or during the second world war.
Its economic and political structures
therefore remained more stable. Having
consolidated their rule over the whole
sUbcontinent in the latter part of the
nineteenth century, the British were
able, despite uprisings, to maintain
strong political and military control.
After World War II when they could no
longer sustain that control, they
transferred political power to the in
digenous bureaucratic and bourgeois
classes without external interference.
The partition of India and Pakistan did,
of course, give rise to the deaths of up
to a million people in Hindu-Muslim
conflicts, but that slaughter and the
religio-national hysteria attending it
distracted attention from class struggle.
The transfer of power to native
rulers in the late 1940's raised hopes
of new democratic freedoms, civil liber
ties, economic development, and social
welfare. To some extent these hopes
were sustained through two decades of
modest industrial and agricultural ex
pansion and through the spread of cap
italist relations, which gave rise to
social mobility. In this connection it
is important to notice that even during
the 1960's, when incomes polarized and
the condition of those at the bottom of
the class structure deteriorated, that
of at least sixty percent of both the
urban and rural populations of India
improved slightly, although very uneven
ly with respect to class and income
level.
39
This may partly explain why,
despite growing rebellion in certain
regions and classes, the bulk of India's
people still seem willing to stay on
the parliamentary road.
Having failed to bring off revolu
tions in earlier decades, the Communist
Party of India and both the Communist
Party and the Trotskyist Lanka Sama
Samaja Party in Ceylon became involved
in parliamentary politics soon after
independence. Their leaders are now
innured to electoral maneuvering,
to the detriment of revolutionary work.
Yet large numbers of peasants and workers
still owe allegiance to these parties,
which did conduct militant struggles
in the 'thirties and late 'forties and
which at various times have made small
gains on behalf of their followers
through trade union activities. Cling
ing to the parliamentary path, the lead
ership of these parties currently puts
a brake on revolutionary organization.
As Ram argues for India, the policies
of the socialist states have by no means
consistently fostered revolutionary
development. The Soviet Union discour
aged the Communist Parties of South
Asia from any course approaching revolu
tion during World War II, and has played
the same role through Cold War and peace
ful coexistence policies since 1951.
In July 1971 the Soviet Union formed a
treaty of friendship with the Indian
government. While deploring the massacre
of East Bengalis, the Soviet Union of
fers no support to the revolutionary
Marxist groups that are helping to lead
the national liberation struggle in
BangIa Desh. Indeed, the Soviet Union
does not even support the Awami League
and the pro-Moscow Communist Party of
East Bengal in demanding a separate
nation of BangIa Desh. Like the United
States it seeks only a restoration of
civilian rule in East Bengal within the
framework of a re-united Pakistan.
(Since it signed the Indo-Soviet friend
ship treaty, the government of India,
too, has ceased to demand an independent
BangIa Desh). For the past few years,
the Soviet Union has provided massive
military aid to the anti-Communist
governments of both Pakistan and India.
85
Although it has temporarily cut off
military aid to Pakistan in the present
crisis, it continues to supply weapons
to India, and has supplied them to the
Ceylon government during the recent
purge of revolutionaries.
China's policy, although in theory
favorable to revolution, seems fully
explicable only in terms of China's per
ception of her own national interests.
For while China has called for revolu
tionary struggle in India, Burma and
Indonesia since 1967, it has discouraged
such struggle in Pakistan for the past
eight years because of China's diplo
matic alliances with Ayub Khan and later
with Yahya Khan.
40
In March and April
and again in June 1971, the Chinese
government approved and even materially
aided the massacres of revolutionaries
and common people in Pakistan, and in
April 1971, of those in Ceylon.
4l
At
present, the Democratic Republic of
Vietnam appears to be the only social
ist nation to have come out in open
moral support of the freedom fighters
of BangIa Desh.42
Finally, there have undoubtedly
been subjective errors on the part of
the various South Asian revolutionary
groups. Mohan Ram has referred to some
of them in his article in this issue
and in his books. Two in particular
seem central: historically, an over
reliance on the theories and policies of
foreign parties, whether Soviet, British,
Chinese, or others; and in the past
four years, the failure of the main
Marxist parties to leave the parliamen
tary path and assume responsibility for
channeling revolt allDng the youth and
poor.
Class Structure
A central problem in estimating
revolutionary potential, and one to which
all four essayists in this issue make
reference, is the nature of the class
structure. It is necessary to ask: what
are the main classes? Which class domi
nates the state apparatus? What is the
character of the relations between class
es? Which classes can be expected to
support the revolution? and, who are
------,
the main class enemies, whether inter
nal or external to the country?
These are complex questions to
which no completely satisfactory
answers seem available. First, it is
noteworthy that in India, the communist
movement receives strongest electoral
support in states which have the poor
est food supply and the highest propor
tions of landless laborers - and in
which both these conditions have been
exacerbated in the past twenty years.
These states are Kerala, Tamil Nadu,
Andhra Pradesh and West Bengal, where
between forty-five and eighty-nine
percent of the people are estimated
to lack the food calories necessary for
adequate subsistence and where be
tween thirty-four and thirty-seven per
cent of the agricultural population were
landless or nearly landless laborers
in 1963-64. By contrast, the right-wing
parties Jan Sangh and Swat antra are
strongest in Rajasthan, Madhya Pradesh,
Gujarat, Uttar Pradesh and Punjab. These
are all states where much lower percen
tages (between thirteen and twenty-
six) of the people are estimated to re
ceive inadequate food calories and where
the percentage of landless or nearly
landless laborers is as low as twelve
to twenty-three percent of the agricul
tural work force.
43
It is not argued
that absolute poverty or landlessness
"cause" support for communism, but it
is suggested that revolutionary ideol
ogy may be stronger and more widely
accepted in states where the largest
proportions of the people have suffered
relative deprivation in food supply,
living standards, and land holding over
a period of years. Where smaller p r o p o ~
tions have suffered deprivation, right
wing parties may gain support from
people of middle rank who are afraid
of losing their security or of being
attacked by the poor.
Again, it is not argued that revolu
tionary movements will necessarily
start among the poorest peasants and
landless laborers. In fact, India's
armed revolutionary movements in recent
decades have tended to aPise in one of
the types of circumstances specified by
Eric Wolf as having high revolutionary
86
f
i
potential, namely, that in which an
t
ethnically distinct (in this case tri
I bal) peasant people, especially one
t
living in a defensible mountain area,
has been robbed of part of its land
t
through entry into the market economy
and the modern state, but retains a cer
f
tain independence and tactical mobility
1
on its own terrain.
44
This has been the
j
J
case among the tribal people in the
hill regions of Bengal, Telengana, and
t
Kerala, where revolutionary upsurges
*
took place in the 1940' s and the late
J
1960's, as well as in the case of the
nationalist wars of the hill tribes of
;
j
\
Assam. Other categories of people among
whom armed revolt has more recently
arisen are educated but unemployed or
underprivileged youth (Ceylon and India)
and the slum populations of cities,
especially Calcutta. Regardless of its
t
origins, however, it is argued that
once an armed revolutionary movement
1
has gained strength it has large poten
I
tial support in areas having masses of
I
poor peasants and landless laborers,
and that regions which are experiencing
I
increase in the proportions of these
'i classes are ones in which revolution
!
ary ideologies are apt to take hold.
45
i
In spite of differences between
i
!
them, all the present Communist par
ties or revolutionary Communist commit
I
I tees of Pakistan and India (although
:t
not the JVP of Ceylon) see the economies
f
of South Asia as divided into two sec
I
tors. One, the larger sector, is still
I
seen as "feudal" or "semi-feudal" by
virtue of its mainly pre-industrial
technology, low level of capital invest
ment in agriculture, and dependent and
,
exploitative relationships. The other
J
"
(and smaller although growing) sector,
the capitalist sector, involves modern
industrial farming or other production
through wage workers.
..
I
I
It seems to me, however, that this
Marxist "dual economy" thesis is little
more satisfactory than a bourgeois dual
economy approach has proven to be. Rather,
f
whether as tenants or wage workers,
l
South Asian peasants and workers seem
for at least some decades to have been
1
drawn almost universally into the world
economy of capitalist imperialism.
46
They
have, however, been drawn into it as
super-exploited people, as people
whose surplus product goes not only
directly to landlords, money lenders,
merchants, industrialists, financiers
and other local figures, or to their
own government, but also indirectly
to corporations and governments of the
imperialist nations, in what Andre Gun
der Frank has aptly called "the contri
bution of the poor to the welfare of
the rich." The expansion of capitalist
relations for the South Asian peasant
and worker has thus meant not increas
ing prosperity, as has happened among
the more fortunate farming and working
classes of the industrial nations
and as Indian Communist analysts seem
to expect it to do, but increasing polar
ization of class relations and incomes
and, for large numbers of peasants,
increased immiserization.
I suggest that landlords, rich
peasants, middle peasants, poor peas
ants and landless laborers have exist
ed in both pre-capitalist and capital
ist South Asia, but that their propor
tions and relations have undergone a
series of complex changes in the c o l ~ n i a l
and neo-colonial periods. Studies of
these changes are needed for the differ
ent regions of a kind carried out by
Wertheim for Indonesia and by Wolf for
Russia, China, Vietnam, Mexico, Alger
ia, and Cuba. 47 In general, pre-capital
ist relations seem to have been charac
terized by a relatively self-sufficient
village economy, hereditary tenancies
of varying kinds for the different class
es of peasants, legal bondage in serfdom
for poor peasants, and (where they exist
ed) slavery for landless laborers.
Colonial and neo-colonial or "underdevel
oped" capitalist relations have involved
varying degrees of absorption into the
commodity economy of world capitalism.
Along with this has tended to come a
reduction in the proportions of middle
peasants, a kind of marketing of labor
through contractual and often short
term tenancies for poor peasants, and
increasing numbers of "free" but impov
erished and insecurely employed land
less laborers. As Shivaraman and Saghir
Ahmad point out in this issue, both
land reform and the introduction of
87
modern techniques of agriculture have
accelerated the growth of landless wage
labor during the past two decades.
The difference between the "dual
economy" and the Its ingle, international
economy" approaches has implications
for the nature of the state and for
revolutionary strategy. As Ram notes,
all the Communist groups of India
postulate a "two stage" revolution, al
though they differ over the precise
character of the stages, over which
classes will bring the two stages to
completion, and above allover how the
stages are to be realized. The first
stage involves getting rid of imperial
ism and feudalism through one or another
combination 0 f workers, peasants, petty
bourgeoisie and non-monopoly natio"nal
bourgeoisie. It culminates in the estab
lishment of an independent economy and
society led either jointly by the nation
al bourgeoisie and the workers (the
"national democracy" of the CPI) or
dominated by the workers and peasants
with the national bourgeoisie as either
stable or vacillating allies (the
"people's democracy" of the CPI-11 and
the various Maoist groups). The second
stage involves a socialist revolution
in which, presumably, private ownership
of the means of production will be
abolished and the bourgeoisie as a
class will cease to exist.
These analyses all seem imperfect,
partly because there is no dual economy
and partly because the separation into
two revolutionary stages seems mech
anical. As Alavi has pointed out, under
conditions of neo-colonialism, the imper
ialists and the native landed classes
are not allies against a nascent nation
al industrial bourgeoisie, as they are,
to some extent, in classical colonial
societies.
48
The time for an independent
capitalist, or even a "non-capitalist"
(but non-socialist) stage is past
that bus has been missed - since multi
national corporations, chiefly although
not exclusively emanating from the U.S.A.,
dominate the capitalist world's economy
by virtue of their technological and
financial superiority. In the post
independence period these corporations,
and the imperial governments that
represent them, have penetrated the
economies of each South Asian country
to such an extent that they are fast
reducing its industrial, merchant and
financial bourgeoisie, its landlords,
its bureaucracy and its military to
the status of segments of a single neo
colonized bourgeoisie. In spite of the
complex rivalries between these seg
ments and between the various imperial
powers to whom they appeal for support,
and in spite of certain limited and
relative autonomy in relation to each
other and in relation to the imperial
ists, their leading groups are forced
to band together with the imperialist
bourgeoisie against the revolutionary
forces of peasants and workers of their
own countries. The main enemies of the
revolution in these countries are there
fore the governments and bourgeoisies
of the imperial nations, while the immed
iate enemies are all the large domestic
property owners (merchant, landed,
financial or industrial). The more the
domestic property owners' interests are
threatened, the stronger become their
ties to the military and civil bureau
cracies, which are recruited mainly
from their midst.
This does not mean that the revolu
tionary forces must necessarily "fight
the whole lot at once". Although they
have proved able to organize localized
class struggles by tribal people, low
caste people, poor peasants, landless
laborers and urban poor against their
immediate oppressors, the South Asian
revolutionary leaderships may not be
able to mobilize the people en masse
over large areas until the military has
assumed political power in all three
countries and until alien intervention
has provided an external enemy. Such
"external enemies" may come initially
from linguistic groups located around
the metropoles within each nation and
be deployed against outlying groups of
different ethnic origin in the more ex
ploited hinterlands, as in BangIa Desh
today. l ~ e rapidity with which the
major industrial powers rushed military
aid to Ceylon in the recent crisis sug
gests, however, that "external enemies"
will eventually be supplied from out
side each nation by one or another of
the super.powers or of their satellites.
(Already, indeed, the counterinsurgency
88
f
\
l
operation in Ceylon has featured Rus
,
sian technicians and Gurkha soldiers
from India.) After such invasions
l
f
patriotic people from all sections
of the indigenous propertied classes are
likely to cross over to the side of the
poor peasants, the landless laborers,
,
the revolutionary youth, and the working
class, as happened in China and Indo
f
china.
f
Prospects
t
After a year of severe repression,
the revolutionary groups of South Asia
appear to be undergoing reassessment
and regroupment. Widespread, coordinated
guerrilla struggles seem to be tempor
arily halted in India. Since early 1970
the CPI-ML has lost most of its organ
ized support among peasants and has be
come an urban terrorist movement concen
trating on the assassination of police,
landlords, money-lender, businessmen,
and political enemies in the CPI-M in
Calcutta and in smaller towns.
49
In
recent months, however, the party split
into two groups led respectively by
the CPI-ML chairman, Charu Mazumdar,
, and by Ashim Chatterjee, the leader of
I
the West Bengal-Orissa-Bihar Regional
J
i
j Committee, with the latter opposing
the Mazumdar tactic of small group
assassinations of individual "cl ass
enemies" and favoring a return to mass
struggles to distribute land and crops
and to fight police and para-military
personnel in the countryside. In June
1971, moreover, Charu Mazumdar himself
f
directed the CPI-ML cadres to spread
i
out again from Calcutta into the country
t
,
side. At least since April 1971, CPI
ML cadres have been snatching hundreds
of rifles from police and private citi
(
zens throughout West Bengal, presumr
ably in anticipation of larger strug
J
gles than those they have hitherto
carried out with primitive weapons.
On October 7, 1971, after a year of
silence about the CPI-ML, Hsinhua
approvingly cited its gun-snatching
campaign, attacks on police, and land
and crop distribution, while ignoring
its urban terrorism, thereby reassert
ing some support for the party while
perhaps encouraging it to reunite and
return to the villages.
50
If it does
the latter, the CPI-ML and the Andhra
Pradesh Revolutionary Communist Com
mittee -- the most significant Maoist
formation outside the CPI-ML -- may
be able to effect a rapprochement.
In Ceylon, large-scale revolution
ary struggle has been temporarily
crushed by the massive arrests and
assassination of cadres and their sup
porters. Gun-snatching, sabotage and
occasional assassinations were, how
ever, reported to be continuing in
north central Ceylon in September
1971.
51
In BangIa Desh two centers of
resistance to the West Pakistani in
vasion and military dictatorship appear
to be prominent. One of these is purely
nationalist and is coordinated by non
revolutionary and non-socialist leaders.
This consists of the Awami League and
its allies, the pro-Moscow National
Awami League (Wali faction), the pro
Moscow Communist Party, and the BangIa
Desh National Congress representing
East Bengali Hindus. The more left-
wing and anti-imperialist National
Awami Party (Bhashani faction) also,
at least nominally, holds one of the
eight seats in the coordinating com
mittee of this Front. The Front has
its administrative headquarters and
provisional government in Calcutta,
where the surviving Awami League lead
ers fled in March, 1971. It has been
arming and training guerrillas in
India with the help of the Indian gov
ernment, and in early November was re
ported to have set up an administrative
base in Dinajpur in northeastern BangIa
Desh inside a liberated zone.
52
The other center of resistance is
a revolutionary National Liberation
Struggle Coordination Committee c o ~
posed of the National Awami Party of
Bhashani, the Maoist Coordinating
Committee of Communist Revolutionaries,
located near Dacca, the Maoist East
Bengal Communist Party, active in the
Rajshahi, Chittagong and Pabna dis
tricts, and several student, peasant
and worker unions. Formed in April
89
1971, the Committee called on June 1,
1971, for a united military struggle,
along with the Awami League and all
other resistance groups, to establish
a "democratic social system, anti-imper
ialist, anti-feudal and anti-monopoly
capital in character." The Front's
program includes the setting up of
village administrative committees, the
stoppage of taxes to the West Pakistan
military government, the ending of usury
and of the hoarding of food grains, the
punishment of quislings, the lessening
of exploitation by landlords of peas
ants and landless laborers, the devel
opment of small self-sufficient econ
omic regions, and the training of
guerrilla squads for sabotage and hit
and-run attacks on the West Pakistani
forces. 53 Resistance forces commanded
by one or the other of these two fronts
were estimated at between 50,000 and
100,000 guerrillas in mid October 1971,
in addition to some 10,000 to 15,000
regular troops of the East Bengal regi
ment and the East Pakistan Rifles. They
were estimated to be fighting a West
Pakistani force of about 80,000, and
claimed to have killed about 20,000
West Pakistani military men.
54
A third, independent group is the
Maoist East Pakistan Communist Party
Marxist-Leninist (EPCP-ML) which cor
responds to the CPI-ML of West Bengal
and has the support of China. This
party has been carrying on "anti-feudal"
attacks against landlords and police;
reports differ as to whether it is
supporting the liberation struggle
against West Pakistani forces. In
spite of China's official support for,
and aid to, the West Pakistani dicta
torship, some sources recently reported
that the EPCP-ML is now receiving
weapons from China. 55
Relations between the traditionally
anti-Communist, pro-Indian and pro
Western Awami League and the National
Liberation Coordination Committee are
unclear at present. Unofficial reports
from Calcutta state that Awami League
leaders are trying to weed out the more
radical youth from their guerrilla
training programs, and fear the take
over of the nationalist movement by
socialist revolutionary forces. There
is no doubt, moreover, that the Indira
Gandhi government cannot look favourably
upon the supply of weapons to East
Bengali guerrillas of similar character
to and having close ties with the Indian
Naxalites. Inside BangIa Desh, Mukti
Fouj (liberation force commandos) sup
posedly under Awami League leadership
are reported to be more radical and
more concerned about the welfare of the
common people than do the Awami League
administrators.
56
In general, regard
less of the fate of the Awami League,
it seems likely that the liberation
struggle may eventually pass under the
leadership of socialist revolutionaries,
and that it may be a protracted strug
gle, spreading to engulf all of east
ern India as well as Eas t Bengal. Mean
while, the BangIa Desh liberation for
ces are apparently disrupting communi
cations and battering the invading army.
Certain interesting new features
characterize the revolutionary socialis t
groups in South Asia. A large propor
tion of their leaders and cadres are
very young and highly educated. In
Inaia and Ceylon they have to struggle
against the parliamentary policies and
even the physical attacks of established
Marxist parties. At the same time, it
is essential that the revolutionary
forces should be, and likely that they
will be, augmented soon by young cadres
from these older parties, many of whom
are disillusioned or impatient with
parliamentary politics.
The revolutionary groups are opposed
by the Soviet Union. Some of them have
also had to struggle without the sup
port of China, and some of them have
been opposed by China.
Flexibility, a break with past
South Asian Marxist groups, new align
ments which cross-cut some of these
groups and some ancient enmities within
the Marxist fold, and independence of
external socialist mentors, seem to be
required of the South Asian revolution
aries in the immediate future. A mili
tant of the National Awami Party put
the matter crisply to a reporter: "We
don't worry whether China openly supports
90
us or not, whether Russia tries to mediate,
or America tries to replace Yahya Khan.
J We have to wage our own battle, and we
are sure to win. "57
t
f November 11, 1971
t
Institute of Asian and Slavonic Studies
University of British Columbia.
I
!
t
Postscript
In November, 1971, resistance forces
in East Bengal won significant victor
t
ies over the West Pakistan army, and
: by November 6th they were reported to
t
control a quarter of the territory and
to be moving freely throughout East
Bengal.
58
Border clashes between India
!
I and the West Pakistani forces in East
Bengal were intensifying. On November
11, U.S. military intelligence claimed
that three Soviet merchant ships had
left the Soviet Union the previous
week with 5,000 tons of military equip
j
ment bound for India.
59
Ten Soviet planes
with spare parts for weapons had already
\
reached India on November 3. By Novem
ber 8, Indian forces had crossed twice
I
*
into Bang1a Desh in response to West
Pakistani shelling of Indian border
towns.
60
On November 8, U.S. State
,
;
Department spokesmen said that
I
1
$3,600,000 worth of military aid to
Yahya Khan would be cut off immediately.
This statement was, however, unconvinc
(
ing, since the U.S. had hitherto been
continuing to send large quantities of
military aid to Pakistan despite Con
1
gressional bans and State Department
t dis claimers. 61
I
i
In the week beginning November 21,
1971, a large-scale invasion of East
1
Bengal took place from Indian terri
t
tory. It was unclear at the time how
(
deeply involved either the Indian army
or the Soviet Union was in the invasion,
r
although it seemed certain that Indian
forces and Soviet supplies were being
deployed in quantity. India claimed on
November 26 to have carried out only
two raids, from West Bengal, in response
to round-the-clock shelling by West
Pakistani forces of Indian border towns.
West Pakistani authorities claimed on
the same day that 10 Indian divisions
totalling 180,000 to 200,000 men were
fighting in East Bengal and that West
Pakistani troops had already destroyed
20 Indian tanks.
62
Heavy fighting was
occurring in widely distributed sec
tors, especially in the Belonia bulge
near the East Bengal/Indian border 70
miles northwest of Chittagong. Some
(India claimed almost all) of the in
vading forces were East Bengalis train
ed and armed on Indian soil iy the
Awami League, and now fighting under
Awami League command. The Chinese
government complained in the United
Nations that the Soviet Union was en
couraging Indian aggression against
Pakistan. Already on November 7, Chi
nese Acting Foreign Minister Chi Peng
fei had promised that if Pakistan was
subjected to foreign aggression, the
Chinese government and people would
"support the Pakistan government and
people in their just struggle to defend
their state sovereignty and national
independence." At the same time, how
ever, Chi Peng-fei urged a solution to
the civil war in East Bengal and stres
sed that China would like to see a
negotiated settlement between India and
Pakistan.
63
Some such settlement was
at that time also being called for by
the Soviet Union, the United States and
Britain. India refused negotiations with
Pakistan on the grounds that the war
in East Bengal was an internal conflict
between the Awami League and the West
Pakistani government. Nonetheless, the
Indian government warned that the con
tinuing influx of 30,000 refugees a day
from East Bengal, with no prospect of
return, and the shelling of Indian
territory, were becoming less and less
tolerable.
Present information does not permit
a full interpretation of the war. It
has, however, certain potential advan
tages for the Indian government, the
Awami League, and the West Pakistani
dictatorship, as well as the Soviet
Union. By invading in force with In
dian troops and with Soviet help, the
Awami League no doubt hopes to take
over East Bengal before it is either
subdued by the West Pakistani military,
or liberated by guerrilla forces led in
part by socialist revolutionaries who
would eventually take East Bengal out
91
of the capitalist system and out of the
control of the Awami League and the class
es it represents. By backing an Awami
League invasion, the Indian government
hopes to set up in East Bengal a friend
ly bourgeois regime under whose aegis
the 10,000,000-odd refugees could return,
trade (cut off since 1965) could be
resumed, and the spectre of socialist
revolution could be at least tempor
arily exorcised from the region. The
war also provides the Indian government
with an excuse to impose martial law in
West Bengal, if necessary to extend it
throughout Eastern India, and to repress
all left-wing dissidents in the name of
patriotism. Indeed, by November 27
half of India's paramilitary Central
Reserve Police have already been sent to
West Bengal, and 10,000 alleged extre
mists have been arrested under new laws
permitting imprisonment without trial.
64
For the Soviet Union, an Awami League
government in BangIa Desh, whether
independent or only partially autono
mous, presents opportunities for fur
ther Soviet economic and military pene
tration of South Asia and further weak
ening of border regions hitherto friendly
to China. For the West Pakistani dicta
torship, the war may have hidden advan
tages and may have been deliberately
provoked in view of the West Pakistani
military's recent heavy losses to the
Mukti Bahini, and the economic chaos and
social unrest in both wings of Pakistan
that have resulted from the March, 1971
invasion. It would be psychologically
intolerable and politically highly dan
gerous if the West Pakistani elite lost
East Bengal to the despised Bengali
people, led by ill-armed guerrillas and
a handful of socialist revolutionaries.
If, however, the West Pakistani govern
ment loses partial or even full control
of BangIa Desh to a bourgeois government
under an international settlement as a
result of Soviet intervention and Indian
invasion, the outcome will be less dan
gerous to the interests of the West
Pakistani rulers and bourgeoisie, and
less damaging to their prestige in the
eyes of their own supporters.
The victims in this power play are
the people of BangIa Desh, who now have
an international war imposed on them
in the wake of flood, slaughter and
famine. A swift end to the war and a
"political settlement" through great
power intervention may put a temporary
end to the killing, alleviate the famine,
and provide a respite to the people.
Whether under the Awami League or the
West Pakistani government, however,
East Bengal cannot escape the economic
deterioration and social unrest that
have already reached alarming propor
tions in both East and West Bengal and
are spreading throughout South Asia.
There can be no quick answers and no
reversion to "normal" -- only a long,
hard struggle through which the South
Asian people may at last gain control
of their destiny.
November 28, 1971.
FOOTNOTES
1. Dandekar and Rath, "Poverty in
India", Economic' and Political Weekly,
Bomay, January 2, 1971, p. 38. For a
contrast between the rising per capita
income of Pakistan in 1958-68 and the
fall in living standards of peasants
and workers, see Tariq Ali, Pakistan:
Military Rule of People's Power?,
Jonathon Cape, London, 1970, p. 153.
In Ceylon, although the per capita in
come has been rising, the real wages
of some sections of workers declined
during the 1960's. Taking the average
wage of workers in the tea and rubber
industries as 100 in 1939, the index
number of real wages rose in most years
to reach 177 in 1956, but then fell
gradually, to remain at 170 from 1964
to 1967. Taking the average wage index
of the Colombo working class as 100
in 1939, the real wage index rose in
most years to'reach 254 in 1960, but
then fell to 233 during 1965 and 1966,
rising again, however, to 24l'in 1967
(Ceylon Year Book, 1970, pp. 215-16).
2. Newsweek, June 17, 1963, re
porting on the World Food Congress held
in Washington, D.C., under the auspices
of the United Nations. Quoted by Felix
Greene, The Enemy, Random House, 1970,
p. 150. For comparative figures on
calorie-intake for India, Pakistan and
92
t
)
Ceylon, see Gtmnar Myrdal, Asian Drama,
,
Vol. I, pp. 542-551, Pantheon, 1968.
See also Dandekar and Rath, loco cit.,
{
p. 29.
3. See especially Harry Magdoff,
The Age of Imperialism, Monthly Review
Press, New York, 1969, and Robert I.
Rhodes, Imperialism and Underdevelop
ment: ~ Reader, MOnthly Review Press,
1970.
4. Chiefly in export crop planta
tions, coal mines, metallurgical works,
jute factories, import and export firms,
banking, and distributive networks sell
ing imported consumer goods. To the pro
fits from these must be added the "Home
Charges" drawn from Indian revenues for
British services, the interest on loans
made to the Indian government for build
ing railroads and telegraph systems,
and the income from British trading and
shipping firms, from which Indians were
excluded. The total annual capital flow
from undivided India to Britain in 1939
is estimated at about 200 million pounds
sterling. See Michael Barratt Brown,
After Imperialism, Heinemann, London,
1963, pp. 174-75; Sofia Melman, For
eign Monopoly Capital in the Indian
Economy, People's Publishing House,
New Delhi, 1963, p. 42.
,
5. For the loss of purchasing power
experienced by Third World countries
in general due to decline in the terms
of trade between 1961 and 1966, as com
pared with 1953-57, see Magdoff, ~ .
cit., p. 158. About 12 billion dollars'
worth of foreign aid from all sources
was authorized for India's first three
five year plans, and more than 8 billion
utilized up to 1965. Pakistan has re
1
ceived about 6 billion dollars' worth
f
t
of foreign aid. See MOhan Ram, Maoism
in India, Vikas Publicat ions, Delhi,
1970, pp. 173-74, and Feroz Ahmed, this
issue.
6. Michael Kidron points out that
f
official figures for foreign investment
;
are lower than are estimates of foreign
controlled assets. Kidron quotes an
estimate for 1961 for India of about
f
Rs. 14,000 million (about U.S. $2 billion
at 1971 rates of exchange) for total for
eign controlled assets. This was slight
ly more than two-fifths of the total in
f
the organized or large scale private
I
sector, or one-quarter of the modern
I
J
sector as a whole (Michael Kidron, For
eign Investment in India, Oxford Univer
sity Press, 1965, p. 186). Taking into
account the distribution of foreign cap
ital in big industry, mining, planta
tions, banking and big business, and its
use to control large amounts of Indian
capital, Bettelheim concludes: "Foreign
capital can.be said to share the con
trol of the Indian economy with domestic
capital on what is very nearly a fifty
fifty basis" (Charles Bettelheim, India
Independent, MOnthly Review Press, 1968,
p. 59). In 1961, 77 percent of the for
eign private capital invested in India
was British, but the proportion is de
clining. British capital accounted for
28% of the value of new foreign capital
issues sanctioned between April 1956
and December 1964; U.S. capital for 32%,
West German for 8% and French for 6%.
Kidron estimates that between 1948 and
1961 private foreign investment in India
more than doubled; in that period for
eign investors took out of the general
currency reserve nearly three times as
much as they contributed directly
(Kidron, ~ . cit., p. 310). Total cap
ital imports into Pakistan increased'
by 100% between 1955 and 1965, and were
expected to increase by another 100%
between 1965 and 1970 (Tariq Ali, ~ .
cit., p. 225).
The increase in American private
investment in both India and Pakistan
in recent years is an adjunct of the
United States' predominance in foreign
loans to both countries. At the end
of India's Third Plan (1965), out of a
total of Rs. 58,000 million of foreign
aid, the U. S. had provided Rs. 12,800
million excluding PL 480 loans, the
USSR Rs. 4,800 million, the U.K. Rs.
3,300 million, West Germany Rs. 4,500
million, and Japan Rs. 1,400 million.
There has since been a spectacular in
crease in aid from the USSR, Rs. 6,000
million of supplementary aid having
been granted in 1965 alone (Bettelheim,
~ . cit., p. 289).
7. During 1966-67, Ceylon received
Rs. 42.3 million in project loans and
Rs. 193.9 million in commodity loans
(a total of Rs. 236.2 million). Of
this total, the U.K. provided Rs. 56.5
million, Canada Rs. 13.2 million, the
93
U.S.A. Rs. 32.4 million, West Germany
Rs. 70.6 million, Japan Rs. 31.3 mil
lion, and India Rs. 10.1 million (Cey
lon Year Book, 1970, p. 196). Ceylon
paid out Rs. 109 million in 1969 as
foreign investment income, and Rs.
142 million (about U.S. $10 million)
in 1970 (Central Bank of Ceylon,
Annual Report, 1970, p. 195).
8. In 1947 Ceylon earned $170 mil
lion by exporting 287 million pounds
of tea, but in 1970 total earnings
were only $188 million with the export
volume at 459 pounds. Thus between
1947 and 1970, the export volume of
tea increased by 60% but the export
value increased by only 10%. In the
same period rubber export volume in
creased by 95%; rubber export value,
by 85%. In 1966 Ceylon's external re
source gap of Rs. 541 million was the
highest in the period 1952-66. There
after, the external resource gap rose
to Rs. 649 million in 1968 and Rs.
1,235 million in 1969. In 1970 the
resource gap was Rs. 1,124 million
(Central Bank of Ceylon, Annual Re
port, 1970, pp. 11-20). -
9. See also especially Hamza Alavi
and Amir Khusro, "Pakistan: the Bur
den of U. S. Aid
1
', in Robert 1. Rhodes,
... cit., pp. 62-78, and Hamza Alavi,
"Imperialism, Old and New", Socialist
Register," MOnthly Review Press, 1964,
pp. 104-126.
10. By 1965, India owed her total
prospective export earnings for the
next six to seven years to repay for
eign debts already incurred. By 1966,
26.9% of the value of India's exports
and 15.7% of the value of Pakistan's
exports was used to cover foreign debt
service and profits on foreign invest
ment (Magdoff, ~ . cit., p. 155). By
1970 more than 50% of Ceylon's new
total receipts from foreign aid were
required to cover her foreign debt ser
vice (Central Bank of Ceylon, Annual
Report, 1970, p. 196).
11. See Cheryl Payer, "The IMF and
the Third World", Monthly Review, Sept.
1971, pp. 47-48. See also Daily Tele
graph, London, "Ceylon Revolt Caused by
Broken Promises", April 12.
12. B.H.S. Jayawardene, "Post MOr
tem", Far Eastern Economic Review, July
94
10, 1971, and "Weighing the Pearl",
Far Eastern Economic Review, July 17,
1971.
13. The United States, for exam
ple, threatened to cut off food aid to
India and Pakistan during their border
war of 1965; the same threat was made
to India in 1966 in order to force her
to permit Standard Oil of Indiana to
market fertilizers in India at its own
rather than at government... controlled
prices. In June 1962 Ceylon nationalized
63 gas stations owned by Esso Standard
Eastern, Inc. and Caltex Ceylon, Ltd.
United States aid was broken off in
February 1963 and was not restarted
until the United National Party govern
ment came in in July 1965 and agreed
to compensate the firms at acceptable
rates (Magdoff, .2.. cit., p. 128).
14. Ceylon's total registered un
employed citizens numbered 150,000 out
of a population of 11.0 million in 1965.
They numbered 500,000 in early 1970
and 700,000 in late 1970 out of a pop
ulation of 12.3 million. In 1965 Cey
lon had 10,723 university students; in
1967, 14,512. Educated unemployed youth
have increased disproportionately to
the unemployed in the population as a
whole (Ceylon Year Books, 1965-70,
passim). The Daily Telegraph reported
on April 20, 1971 that 14,000 unemploy
ed graduates were estimated to have
joined the cause of the People's Liber
ation Front. I am indebted to Michael
Egan of the University of British Colum
bia for drawing my attention to some of
these figures.
It is estimated that over 100,000
persons with scientific, engineering,
or medical qualifications .are unemploy
ed in India, while 30,000 more are
abroad ("Magnitude of Brain Drain from
India", Technical Manpower (Division
for Scientific and Technical Personnel,
CSIR) Vol. XIII, No.2, Feb. 1971,
quoted by Kamalesh Ray, "Unemploy
ment and the Brain Drain", Economic and
Political Weekly, Sept. 25, 1971, p.
2059) .
15. See A. Sinha, U.S. Threat to
India's Sovereignty, Book Club, Cal
cutta 12, 1965, for a detailed account.
16. India's rice production increased
t
;
I
from 50 million tons in 1947 to 88.4
f
million tons in 1964-65 and to 96 mil
i
lion tons in 1968-69 (Moh'an Ram, Maoism
in India, 2.. cit., p. 182). Ceylon's
1
United National Party government decided
t in 1965 to put 46% of its internal bud
r
get into growing food, because of the
i
J
ruinous cost of importing rice since
the price had risen on account of the
war in Vietnam. Ceylon's paddy (unhusk
!
ed rice) production rose from 36.3
million bushels in 1965 to 76.8 million
I
t
I
bushels in 1970. Even so, with rapidly
decreasing imports and a growing popu
lation, Ceylon's people consumed slight
ly less rice per capita in 1970 than
in 1965 (Central Bank of Ceylon, Annual
Report, 1970, Table 3, Appendix).
17. For an excellent treatment,
see Francine R. Frankel, "The Politics
j
of the Green Revolution: Shifting Pat
i
terns of Peasant Participation in India
and Pakistan", prepared for the work
shop, "A Widened Perspective of Modern
izing' Agricul ture", Cornell University,
June 2-4, 1971. See also Thomas B.
Wiens, "Seeds of Revolution", Bulletin
of Concerned Asian Scholars, April-
July, 1970, pp. 104-108. The Communist
Party of India (Marxist) M.P. and peasant
organizer, A.K. Gopalan, recently char
ged that 25% of agricultural laborers
have been disemployed in areas where
J the "green revolution" has been' intro

duced (Times of India, October 20,
19 71, p. 5).
18. See Mohan Ram, this issue, for
I
i
India. In Pakistan, bolstered by for
eign aid, 20 families own 66% of indus
\
trial capital, 80% of banking, and 97%
I
#
of insurance. Of the remaining 34%
of industrial capital, IOOre than half
is controlled by foreign firms. All
of the "lucky 20" families corne from
Wes t Pakis tan (Tariq Ali, .E.. cit.,
p. 152).
i
19. Dandekar and Rath, loco cit.,
r
p. 3B.
20. As a result, Ceylon's budget
,
deficit is now over Rs. 930 million,
the highest since independence (Far
Eastern Economic Review, August 28,
1971, pp. 15-16).
\
21. See Hassan N. Gardezi, "Neo
Colonial Alliances and the Crisis of
Pakistan", Pakistan Forum, December
January 1971, pp. 3-6.
22. Mohan Ram, Maoism in India,
pp. 175-178.
23. Hamza Alavi, "Bangla Desh and
the Crisis of Pakistan", Socialist
Monthly Review Press,
forthcoming.
24. Surnanta Banerjee, "Cracks in the
Government Structure", Economic and
Political Weekly, January 2, 1971,
p. lZ..
25. Harnza Alavi, loco cit.
26. Hari P. in
Local Level Politics in India". Paper
presented at the Third Annual Confer
ence of Punjab Studies, University of
Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, Penn., May
6-8, 1971; Kathleen Gough, "Commtmist
Rural Councillors in Kerala", Journai
of Asian and African Studies, July and
October, 1968, Vol. 3, Nos. 3-4, pp.
181-202.
27. Part of the information on
Ceylon given here is derived from an
article by Jayasumana Obeysekara,
"Revolutionary Tendencies in Ceylon",
forthcoming in Imperialism and Revolu
tion in South Asia, edited by Kathleen
Gough-and Hari Sharma, Monthly Review
Press.
28. See "Terror Raid Warning to
Colombo", Daily Telegraph, April 13,
1971.
29. In India these included the
Communist Party of India (Marxist
Leninist) and various other Maoist
groups; in Ceylon, the Trotskyist Lanka
Sama Samaja Party (Revolutionary), an
offshoot of the parliamentary Lanka
Sama Samaja Party; and in Pakistan the
Bhashani-led National Awami Party, the
independent Maoist East Bengal Commun
ist Party, the pro-Peking East Pakistan
Communist Party (Marxist-Leninist), and
the independent Maoist Coordinating
30. These parties included, in
Pakistan, the pro-Moscow National Awami
Party (Wali faction); in India the pro
Moscow Communist Party of India and the
independent Communist Party of India
(Marxist); and in Ceylon, the pro
Moscow Communist Party and the Trotsky
ist Lanka Sarna Samaja Party, which
actually entered a United Front with ;
the bourgeois Sri Lanka Freedom Party.
31. See Pakistan Forum, June-July
1971, p. 1, and "Bangladesh", Toronto,
95
September 15, 1971.
32. Fifteen hundred is the official
government figure for those killed,
and is generally admitted to be too
low. For higher figures and for general
accounts 0 f the repression and the up
rising that followed it, see "Revolu
tion Replaces Rhetoric", Economic and
Political Weekly, May 22, 1971; "Sham
bles of Bandaranaike Socialism",
ibid., July 17, 1971; "Ceylon and East
Bengal", Frontier (Calcutta independent
Marxist weekly), May 15, 1971; "Ceylon:
a Decisive Year", ibid., July 14, 1971;
and Far Eastern Economic Review, Sept.
11, pp. 16-17.
33. Daily Telegraph, April 18, 1971.
34. The Times, London, April 19,
1971, p. 1
35. Daily Telegraph, April 13-18,
1971, passim.
36. Ceylon Daily News, May 27, 1971,
reprinted in New Left Review, September
October it oppos
ed the JVP and the revolt, the pro
Peking Communist Party of Ceylon came
under suspicion and its leader, N.
Sanmugathasan, was arrested.
37. See "Dialogue with Naxalites",
Frontier, August 14, 1971, pp. 5-8;
"CPM on Jail Killings", ibid., June 5,
1971, p. 16; ''Now the CPM's Turn", ibid.,
May 8, 1971, p. 15; "What goes on in
jails", ibid., July 17, 1971, pp. 9-11;
and "Shades of Indonesia", ibid., August
31, 1971, pp. 1-2. See also MOhan Ram,
"Little Law, Less Order", Far Eastern
Economic Review, July 10, 1971, p. 16.
38. See Hamza Alavi, "Peasants and
Revolution", Socialist Register, MOn
thly Review Press, 1965, pp. 241-277,
for an account of these struggles.
p. 38.
40. Tariq Ali, .2.. cit., pp. 138-148.
41. China is reported to have given
an interest free loan of $100 million to
Pakistan during the massacres. See Tariq
Ali, "BangIa Desh: Results and Pros
pects", New Left Review, No. 68, July
August The Financial Times,
May 14 and June 17, 1971; The New Yo rk
Times, April 27, 1971; The Daily Tele
graph, April 28, 1971; Far Eastern Econ
omic Review, June 19, 1971. For the
Chinese view that the disturbances in
East Bengal result from Indian inter
ference, see "What are Indian Expan
sionists Trying To Do?", Peking Review,
April 16, 1971. For China's aid to
Ceylon, see Note 36.
42. The Consul General of the Demo
cratic Republic of Vietnam reportedly
extended the support of the DRV to the
"BangIa People in their struggle for
freedom against the occupation forces
of West Pakistan" (Times of India),
October 20, 1971, p. 6). -
pp. 29, 30; India Votes, ed. by R.
Chandidas, Ward Moorhouse, Leon Clark
and Richard Fontera, Humanities Press,
1968, pp. 256-265.
44. Eric Wolf, Peasant Wars of the
Twentieth Century, Harper and 1968,
p. 293.
45. In Naxalbari, moreover, poor
peasants and landless laborers actually
led the struggle once it had been called
for by the peasant convention. See Kanu
Sanyal, "Report on the Peasant Movement
in the Terai Region", Liberation, Cal
cutta (CPI-ML monthly journal), Novem
ber 1968.
46. See, e.g., Sulekh Chandra Gupta,
"Some Aspects of Indian Agriculture as
revealed in Recent Studies", and A.R.
Desai, "Sociological Analysis of India",
in Rural Sociology in India, Popular
Prakashan, Bombay, 1969, for supporting
data and arguments.
47. W.F. Wertheim, Indonesian Society
in Transition, W. Van Hoeve, Ltd. The
Hague, 1959; Eric Wolf, cit. For
India, A.R. Desai, . cit., is a pioneer
ing work in that direction.
48. Hamza Alavi, "Imperialism, Old
and New", Socialist Register, 1966.
49. "Urb an Guerrillas in Calcutta",
Economic and Political Weekly, July 10,
1971, pp.1379-l382.
50. Mohan Ram, "Peking and Indian
Marxists", Economic and Political Week
October 30, 2234. For the
impact of China's policy towards Pakis
tan on Indian Maoists earlier this year,
see Mohan Ram, "Polycentric Maoism",
Economic and Political Weekly, June 26,
1971, pp. and Sumanta Baner
jee, "Maoists: Doing without alina?"
Economic and Political Weekly, July 3,
1971, pp. 1321-1322.
51. Far Eastern Economic Review,
Sept. 4, 1971, pp. 16-17.
96
1
52. Derek Ingram, "A Land Where Hope
BULLETIN OF
Dies", The Province, Vancouver, B. C. ,
November 4, 1971.
53. Part of the BangIa Desh National
t
Liberation Coordination Committee's
program is printed in Sphulinga (liThe
Spark"), BangIa Desh Association of
Quebec, 3542, Lome Avenue, Apt. 5,
Montreal 130, Canada.
54. Sydney H. Schanberg, "Guns Flow
to the Border", New York Times, re
printed in The P r o v i ~ Vancouver,
B.C., October 13, 1971, p. 5.
55. See, e.g., David Lushak's re
port in the Daily Telegraph, October 1,
1971. Lushak states that the weapons
are believed to be carried "via the moun
tain trails of Nepal and across the Sil
iguri strip into BangIa Desh".
56. The Province, November 4, 1971,
p. 5.
57. Far Eastern Economic Review,
April 24 and May 15, 1971; Times of In
dia, May 8, 1971. -
58. New York Times, November 6,
1971. --
1971.
1971.
61. Senator Edward Kennedy has es
timated U.S. military aid to West Pak
istan at $9,000,000 since March 25,
1971; Senator Frank Church, at
$35,000,000 (Intercontinental Press,
November 22,1971, p. 1005).
62. The Province, Vancouver, B.C.,
November 27, 1971.
63. Information from Hsinhua, quot
ed in Intercontinental Press, November
22, 1971, p. 1005. As a token of good
will, the Chinese government entertained
an Indian ping-pong team on November
5-8.
64. Fred Bridgland reporting from
Calcutta in The Vancouver Sun, Vancouver,
B.C., November 27, 1971. -
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John Starr
The Great Union of the Popular Nasses
Mao Tsetung
From the "Great Union of the Popular Masses" to the "Grand Alliance"
Stuart Schram
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98
I ChiDa, PakislaD, BaDgJadesh
f
by Edward Fried man
The purpose of this essay is to ex
plain the policy of China during the
BangIa Desh crisis of 1971. To explain,
however, is not to explain away. The
goal is to define not to defend.
There are those who would complain
that even to engage in amoral thoughts
lends credence to amoral acts. After
all, in the slaughter of Bengalis by the
West Pakistani army we witnessed an event
said to have been condemned by the entire
international community. Yet Chinese
leaders are a bit suspicious of that dis
interested ethical concern. While there
is no doubt that millions upon millions
of Bengalis, Indians and humanitarians
everywhere were deeply outraged by the
pitiless massacres, Chinese can ask,
where was this humane sentiment a few
years ago when hundreds of thousands of
people of Chinese descent, of left-wing
politics, and of random character were
slaughtered in Indonesia? And even while
the monstrous doings of the West Pakis
tani military were generally condemned,
the stirring up of anti-China sentiment
by the military dictatorship in Thai
land which could facilitate some future
pogrom of Chinese there went by almost
unnoticed -- though not by the Chinese.
Virtually all governments focus pri
marily on the problems thrown at them
selves. They grant ever so swiftly the
good conscience of their own cause. Yet
neither of these general characteristics
is needed to understand the sarcasm
with which China's leaders greeted Mos
cow's and New Delhi's claim to defend
the cause of national self-determina
,
f
,
tion. Why, then, asked the Chinese, did
I
the Indian army suppress the Nagas' de
sire for autonomy and occupy muslim
Kashmir instead of carrying out the UN
requested plebis cite there? The recent
Soviet crushing of the popular govern-
I
ment of Czechoslovakia told where Mos
cow stood on the question of self-deter
mination. Prime Minister Gandhi's send
ing of troops to help Bengla Desh also
helped her Party crush opposition and
impose its will in Indian Bengal, which
was not a Congress Party stronghold. Did
humane concern incite the Indian army to
move?
The refugee horror was all too real
but its successful exploitation by the
Indian government was just as real. It
was an open secret at the time that most
of the refugees (Hindis) did not wish
to return to a muslim BangIa Desh. Would
Mrs. Gandhi force them out? The morality
of that act or of the Indian government's
choice to buy arms while finding itself
too poor to care for the homeless and
helpless told the essence of the story
for New Delhi. India had an opportunity
to dismember and weaken its enemy Pak
istan; the Indian government ordered
its army to exploit that opportunity.
In this world of violent deeds and
hypocritical words, one is almost grate
ful for the verbal restraint of the Amer
ican government. While the American war
in Indochina has generated millions of
refugees as did the terror of the West
Pakistani army in the East, the lang
uage from Washington at least was vir
tually free of self-righteousness on
the matter of Bengali refugees. The
immoral acts and facts indicate that it
would be more than naive -- it would be
fruitless -- to seek the ethical basis
of policy during the BangIa Desh crisis
of 1971.
I
Still, all general actions require
shared good conscience. For the Mao
Tse-tung/Chou Enlai ruling group inter-
f
i
,
preted national morality as defined by
opposition to imperialism. Foreign policy
spokesmen in Peking have long insisted
that their continued support for Pakis
tan is part of China's basic anti-imper
ialist orientation which includes help
ing small and middle-sized countries
achieve independence outside of the
hegemonic orbits of the superpowers.
This general policy is given symbolic
form when China works for a Third World
representative as Secretary-General at
the United Nations and a practical form
when China agrees to help Singapore
break 8!Nay from the Far Eastern Freight
Conference's oligopolistic prices.
l
Despite scarce resources, the Chi
nese government has been extraordinarily
generous to other peoples, especially
in times of crisis. The Chinese made
large donations to East Pakistan during
the 1970 disaster. They gave more to the
Rumanians than did the Russians after
recent floods in Rumania. Only Japan
gave more money than China to Peru after
the earthquake/flood holocaust in the
Andes. And most recently in 1971 the
Chinese contributed more to disaster
victims in Hong Kong than did the Brit
ish government. Although there are no
figures on the matter, relative to per
capita income, China probably ranks at
or near the top in world-wide relief of
natural catastrophies. But do such good
works contribute to progressive strug
gles for national liberation?
In the spring of 1971 when it seem
ed that the World Bank was bringing in
ordinate pressure to bear on the West
Pakistani government, Peking offered
the military rulers in Islamabad a
large, interest-free loan to meet press
ing needs. Ruling groups in China were
committed to assist Pakistan's fourth
five-year plan "within China's means and
capacity to help make the economy of
Pakistan self-reliant. "2 Spokesmen for
the People's Republic of China explain
'Chinese policies such as outdoing the
Soviet Union in aid to Third World
countries and accepting special imports
from countries with balance of payments
problems (Ceylon, Malaysia, Peru and
Chile) as meant to preclude the restor
ation of world hegemony by the super
powers.3
While these policies which disturb
rulers in Washington and MOscow may
stem in part from a value-based approach
to the international political economy
of the Mao group, they cannot, on their
own, make for economic independence out
side of the major power blocs. China
is too poor. International economic
constraints are too strong. The domes
tic, social basis for sacrifice and
struggle in the nations involved is too
fragile. Even if Pakistan were united
so that export earnings from jute in
the East served all the people (actual
ly the East served in many ways as an
internally exploited colony of the
West), West Pakistan's government is
tied too tightly to international money
sources to achieve genuine independence.
Yet as Marxists -- in"deed as human
beings -- the universalization of their
valued historical experience is not an
incidental matter. It defines their
being and action. The Mao group is part
of a Chinese nationalist tradition which
projects onto the international world
the Marxist notion that the relations
of nations reflect the division of labor
within a nation. States sUbstitute for
classes, strata and the like.
4
China
is thereby defined as a proletarian
nation engaged in struggle with the
imperialist nations.
5
Chinese foreign policy aims at
united fronts and tacticql alliances
which will weaken the imperialist coun
tries. Chinese theoretical journals have
offered an explanation of the structural
dynamics which make it easier for China
to befriend Prince Sihanouk' s Cambodia,
the kingdom of Nepal and the right-
wing military dictatorship of West Pakis
tan while there is hostility towards the
bourgeois democracy of India (at least
during the era of America's liberal
democratic hegemony in Asia). Going back
at least as far as the middle and late
1950's, certain Chinese analysts con
cluded that bourgeois, republican, i n
dustrializing small- and middle-sized
st ates were eas ily engul fed by the
international trading economy dominated
by the United States. Feudal, monarchical,
100
I
landed rulerships, on the other hand,
t
in opposing their natural domestic
enemies were opposing the natural domes
tic allies of America. Such rulers might
seek a counter in a communist China.
j
The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Thus
the phenomenon of so-called Tory Social
t
ism which had made for domestic coopera
I
,
tion between aristocracy and urban poor
in countries of Western Europe was repli
cated at the international level. Tem
porary alliances were possible between
what were seen as fuedal and proletar
ian nations.
I
The Russians denounce such arrange
ments as betrayals of class analysis.
They claim the only real purpose of such
t
,
Chinese opportunism is to oppose the
Soviet Union. The Russians claim that
China's collab oration with emperors,
shahs, princes and feudal militarists
I
I
t
helps undermine the revolutionary cause
in the countries involved. Surely the
Russians are right in questioning the
identification of short-run maneuvers
by the Chinese leadership with the long
run goals of progressive emancipation.
Obviously, the Chinese analysis is
not persuasive to liberation movements
in BangIa Desh and elsewhere that the
People's Republic has backed a friendly
government which barbarously suppressed
groups on the left. Such emb at tIed
people may even suspect that China is
exporting counterrevolution. Even if a
f
Bengali were to grant some general val
idity to the Mao-Chou approach, he
(
could also insist that the general
1
approach need not decide a particular
case, or that Peking had misread the
actual relationship of short and long
,
run.
The ultimate rationale of the pro
tracted political war entered upon by
I
Peking rests on a profound pessimism
about immediate revolutionary prospects
and a particular projection from the
conditions which facilitated the Bol
shevik and Chinese revolutions. Those
revolutions succeeded when imperialist
powers had weakened themselves in
1
;
intra-imperialist wars. In general,
the cause of revolutionary anti-imper
ialism depends first and foremost not
so much on what the people of the
,
;
f
exp10i ted count ry can do as on wh at
the forces of reaction and oppression
can no longer do! The Chinese policy of
aiding small- and medium-sized countries
struggling for economic independence -
even if it doesn't actually achieve
that maximum goal -- still will serve
to temper the terms of imperialist ex
ploitation. A trend toward reducing
super-exploitation by the super-powers
will, in the long run, reduce the capa
city of the super-powers to support
counterrevolutionary ventures in the
weaker countries and increase competition
among imperialist countries, thereby
reducing the resources available for
other purposes. Liberation movements
are most likely to grow and win where
the forces of international counter
revolutionary intervention become weak
ened to the point that they become too
weak to crush these movements. Hence,
the Mao-Chou leadership can find that
its policy of anti-imperialism best
serves the long-run interest of the
peoples of the world both for revolu
tionary change and for socialist devel
opment.
6
A detailed analysis of trends in the
international political economy would
be necessary to decide whether such an
analysis shows more than the particulars
underlying the truism that with Chinese
ruling groups as with most people good
conscience turns out to be in harmony
with self-interest. And the interests
involved may be not only of the global
variety discussed so far but also -
perhaps more important -- of the most
parochial, personal and political sort.
Ratiocination offered in ignorance
of elite politics is fraught with danger.
We just don't know whether the leader
ship in Peking was so concerned with
political struggles at home that it
merely continued foreign politics -
i.e., support of the government in
Islamabad -- as usual. There simply
may have been no time or energy for new
analysis and new departures. In addition,
it is possible that Chinese diplomats
found political loyalty a safer course
than critical insights or that loyal
I
I
Party people near the top interpreted
such inSights shrewdly and safely. That
is, they told Mao what they believed he
;
101
~ '
t
wanted to hear: that the difficulties in
the East were the result of outside
interference, that internal support for
BangIa Desh was minimal, that the Islam
ab ad government was popular, that the
only issue that mattered was Russia's
effort to forge another link in the
encirclement of China. To be soft on
the Soviets might mean a politically
suicidal attitude of seeming to side
with anti-Maoist elements.
II
China's words and deeds, whether
approaChed from the grand theory of anti
imperialism or the naked selfishness
of careerist politics, invariably direct
us to the role of the West Pakistan
government in China's confrontation with
the Soviet Union. Maoists tend to act
on the solid military strategy of taking
on only one major enemy at a time. Since
the middle to late 1960's that enemy for
China has been the Soviet Union. 7 Con
sequently, the Pakistani government grew
ever more important to China as a breach
in Mos cow's iron Chain around China's
periphery.
In fact, in the decade beginning
around 1962, when America, Russia and
India all acted on an essentially anti
China basis, the government in Islam
abad served vital state interests of
China. Only the air route through West
Pakistan offered Chinese diplomacy a
secure, swift air route to Africa and
the Middle East. America had so success
fully isolated China that except for
the vulnerable route via MOscow, tech
nicians, despatches, military personnel
and the like could get to and from China
only by Changing planes in West Pakis
tan. It was by that route at the end of
1965 that China flew home needed gold
to be used for life and death interna
tional purchases in case the United
St ates es calation in Indochina con
tinued north into the People's Repub
lic of China. Sharing Russia and India
as Asian enemies, China and Pakistan
each supported the state interests of
the other on issues from Taiwan to
Kashmir. For such support Pakistan was
threatened and at times punished by
Washington on a variety of matters
such as loans and airport aid. One has
to understand how isolated and endanger
ed China was in the 1960's to begin to
appreciate Peking's genuine gratitude
for the support it received during that
period from the government in West Pak
istan.
But beyond shared fundamental state
interests and Peking's gratitude for
Pakistan's help "in defiance of foreign
pressure"8 at a time of China's isola
tion and vulnerability lie fundamental
matters of China's national security
and territorial integrity. After all,
gratitude is not a lasting basis of
international relations. And by 1971
with China in the United Nations and
negotiating contracts for airplane land
ing rights in Canada and elsewhere, the
isolation of China could no longer suf
fice to support good relations between
Peking and Islamabad. Even normal rela
tions with India or BangIa Desh was
possible if it could be separated from
the over-riding issue of China's fear
of the Soviet Union.
People in secure countries suCh as
the United States where the cry that
"the Russians are coming" actually means
"budget time is here" may find it close
to impossible to empathize with the
Chinese experience of insecurity vis \
a-vis the Russians. And there may indeed
be room for skepticism. There may be a
politics to the felt insecurity for
their nation of the Mao group. That is, ,
their sensitivity to foreign dangers
of an extreme variety permits them to
point to a compelling need to imple
ment their domestic preference for a
society with decentralized regionally
self-sufficient economies. Nonetheless,
this does not necessarily cancel out
the fact that the Russian rulers have
in fact been looking toward the removal
from power of the Mao group.
During the last few years news
reports from Moscow have told of a mili
tarist faction urging a strike at China's
nuclear installations, a marCh on China
north of the Yellow River and the estab
lishment in Peking of a Communist Party
dictatorship favorable to unity with a
socialist bloc headed by the Soviet Union.
102
The electrllYlng,
up-to-Ihe-mlnute report on life In China today.
CHiDI
IIIIDE THE PEOPLES
REPUBLIC
bY the Committee of Concerned ISian SchOlars
" '"
CIN IT BE UNDERSTOOD?
In summer, 1971, the Committee of Concerned Asian Scholars toured
China. This broad antiwar group, founded in 1968 by students, his
torians, political scientists, and sociologists, is the first group of
Asian specialists to visit mainland China in 22 years. Most members
of the group speak fluent Chinese, each member representing the
most current American knowledge on China. For one month, the
CCAS group traveled throughout the republic. They visited cities,
farms and factories. They talked with workers, students, farmers,
children, government officials and soldiers.
~
What is China? Can it be understood? The authors give us the most
NON

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GHlUIIiBIDE THE
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103
Planners in Peking had to worry how this
Russian interventionist group might use
the BangIa Desh crisis of 1971. "Reli
able information" was available to the
American and West Pakistan governments
that India would move on to war in the
West as soon as it had won in the East.
Backed by Russia, India was seen as out
"to destroy Pakistan as a whole".9 And
the Russians let it leak out that should
China come to the aid of Pakistan, Russia
would create a diversionary action in
China's far western, oil and uranium
province of Sinkiang. Thus, for the Chi
nese, BangIa Desh was no isolated, dis
tant, trouble spot. Rather as their
analogies with Japan's rigging up of a
puppet state of Manchukuo indicated,
the very security of China was at stake.
The possibility of a large military ex
plosion seemed all to real.
The Russian rulers appeared to
threaten Chinese territory all around
her borders and even within them. Mos
cow has become the major military back
er of India, which, according to Chi
nese analysts, supplies and provides
sanctuary for rebels in Tibet.
lO
Con
cern for keeping Tibet and fear of
threats to Tibet have been an integral
part of Chinese nationalist politics
since the early years of the twentieth
century. It is probably a more emotion
ally-rooted nationalist concern of
China's ruling gruups than is the c1 aim
to Taiwan. Whereas 19th century China
kept Tibet as a buffer between two
competing imperialisms, Czarist Rus
sia and British India, China today must
worry about what she sees as the suc
cessors to these forces: social imper
ialist Russia and its partner expansion
ist India. The Chinese cannot help but
be aware of the high-ranking Indian
officers who feel betrayed by America's
1962 refusal to support Indian mili
tary proposals to bomb Tibet and join
with South Korea and Taiwan in attack
ing China mainland. These officers see
China in Tibet as an inherent threat
to India. With Pakistan no longer a
military concern, with O1.ina preoccu
pied with Russia, the Indian military
could seize the opportunity to carry
their struggle into Tibet to win secur
ity for India and revenge for themselves.
104
Official Chinese statements about readi
ness to defend the People's Republic on
the Tibetan front along with other fronts
gave witness to the Chinese anxiety over
this threatening prospect.
Only the governments of West Pakis
tan and, at times, the United States,
may share this Chinese desire to prevent
the development of a Russian-oriented
Tibet. Although some people may find
the Chinese fear for Tibet too far-fetch
ed given the limited resources of the
Indian army, the vulgar comparison made
by the O1.inese of India's alleged crea
tion of Bengali refugees in 1971 with
India's similar creation of Tibetan
refugees in 1959 points to a different
story. The Han O1.inese may not be sure
of the loyalty of the Tibetans to the
People's Republic. When the United Na
tions General Assembly voted against
the Indian invasion of East Pakistan
commentators in explaining the vote for
one Pakistan noted that they hadn't
realized before that the problem of
ethnic, regional and lingual divisions
was so acute in so many countries.
China is one of those countries.
North of Tibet in Sinkiang the
Soviet Union has collaborated with Tur
kes tani rebels dedicated to detaching
that area from O1.ina. The USSR has
beamed radio broadcasts to Sinkiang ur
ging the people to rebel. There are also
reports of a 50,000 man liberation army
waiting in Russia. If Bengali refugees
could return armed and trained by India
to fight the West Pakistan army and
the Soviet Union labelled this a matter
of security, what would prevent Moscow
from similar "aggression, division and
subversion" in Sinkiang? The Chinese
government concluded, "We must forever
maintain high vigilance against .. [an]
enemy who may seek every opportunity to
attack.. "11 An old analysis of the
danger to Sinkiang as seen by an anal
yst from Chiang Kai-shek's side may make
clearer the palpable reality of this
Chinese fear that the Russians might
well try to sever Sinkiang.
SecpetZY3 but intensiveZY3 the
Soviets have stepped up their ef
forts to sever Sinkiang from China.
j
1
t
I
~
In this monograph which Harrison E.
Salisbury has called a "remarkable memoir,"*
a Soviet observer-participant helps fill a sig
nificant gap in our information about this
crucial period in Chinese history. Vishnyakova
Akimova recreates the world of the Soviet
advisor in China in the mid-twenties and both
identifies and gives human dimensions to
many ofthe figures who served there.
*The New York Times Book Review, September 1971
I
l
;
Harvard East Asian Monographs, 40
$4.50, paper
j
r
j
!
I
Harvard University Press
Cambridge, Massachusetts 02138
Two Years in
Revolutionary China, 1925-1927
byV.V. Vishnyakova-Akimova
THE YENAN WAY
IN REVOLUTION
ARY CHINAMark Seidell
The Yenan Way
in Revolutionary China
by Mark Selden
The Chinese Communist Party was the first
revolutionary party ever to come to power
after a prolonged people's war. In this
study, Mr. Selden focuses on a single base
area of the Communist resistance move
ment. Its center, Yenan, was the party's
wartiine capital and the name became
synonymous with the entire movement.
The principles of the Yenan Way, the
party's wartime program, embody all the
major features that have defined China's
subsequent revolutionary course. Based on
a wealth ofpreviously untapped materials,
this work directly challenges prevailing
interpretations of peasant nationalism and
the rise of the Chinese CommUlust
movement.
Harvard East Asian Series, 62 $10.00
Like the Czarist they
have designs to occupy that pro
vince which reporledZy has a uran
ium deposit of more than 12 bil
lion far exceeding that in any
western country or Russia. They
know weU that whoever contro ls
the uranium-rich Sinkiang will
eventually be in a position to
compete for the mastery of the
world... In the first few years . ..
[Chinese] had to swallow their in
dignation over Russia's aggressive
acts in Sinkiang because they need
ed Russian support. But after the
Mao-Khrushchev ideological dis
pute and their rivalry for leader
ship of the Communist bloc came
into the open, their clashes in
Sinkiang became more and more vio
lent.
Soviet Russia apparently tries to
use Stalin's methods to investi
gate coups in Ili for the estab
lishment of the "East Turkestan
Repub lic" and to create border in
cidents. Peiping has to strengthen
its border defenses and thus comes
into head-on confrontation with
the invading Soviet force.
Although Mbscow and Peiping have
sent troop reinforcements to their
frontier (The Chinese Communists
have dr(JJ;)n a 25 kilometer wide,
500 kilometer long military zone
on the border of SinkiangJ, the
Chinese Communists have no inten
tion of altering the existing
border line with Russia, are nei
ther prepared nor have the strength
to take back lost lands.
12
East of Sinkiang in Mongolia, only
a few hundred miles from China's cap
ital of Peking sits a recently arrived
Russian army equipped with offensive
ground-to-ground missiles. Moscow has
not shared Peking's deep concern about
Japanese expansion into Korea. In fact
the Chinese have reported that there
is sufficient mutual understanding be
tween Japan and the USSR for the Soviets
to move troops away from Japan and over
to China's sensitive Manchurian border.
With Russian arms ranging from China's
northeast to her southwest and with the
Russian navy anchoring to the south,
the Soviet Union's long term project
(a "monstrous plan", Huang Hua called
it) of forward encirclement of China
was succeeding.
13
A BangIa Desh depen
dent on an India militarily allied to
the Soviet Union continues this threat
ening process. That is, in a crisis, the
stated preferences for non-alignment
by the leaders of BangIa Desh must give
way to powerful politico-military reali
ties, to more leverage for the Soviet
Union in a continuing encirclement along
China's borders.
III
There is little that the Mao Tse
tung group fears more than this kind of
hostile forward encirclement. Based
on his critique of the Red Army's 1934
defeat by Chiang Kai-shek's fifth ex
termination campaign, which encircled
and wiped out a nine million strong
Kiangsi base area, Mao has continually
insisted on taking risks against for
ward thrusting encirclement while it is
still only a potential encirclement. Mao
has acted on this strategic initiative,
on this notion of active defense, against
the Japanese in the early 1940's, against
MacArthur in Korea in 1950, in the Que
moy area in 1954-1955 and 1958, and
against the Russians in Manchuria in
1969. As the destruction of the Kiangsi
Soviet showed, to lose in a world not
defined by the genteel bounds and bonds
of civil society can be an ultimate dis
aster. If a strengthened and emboldened
major enemy may destroy you, then for
Maoists the first question is not, who,
potentially, are my friends, but who,
actually are my enemies. Faced with ul
timately frightening prospects, China
has considered the south Asian peninsula
a tertiary priority except in the matter
of military encirclement by an armed
enemy.
China's military might is small in
comparison to that of the Soviet Union
or the United States. The two super
powers have threatened China with nuclear
blackmail, but not merely nuclear black
mail. There have been powerful factions
in both Moscow and Washington willing to
use that nuclear weaponry. According to
US government sources, Washington
threatened Peking with retaliation if
<l1ina acted on behalf of Pakistan in its
1965 war with India and China, according
to former US Assistant Secretary of State
for Far Eastern Affairs William Bundy,
then abjectly backed off. Most observers
slight the threat of nuclear catastro
phe in their understanding of China's
foreign policies. Yet, this was not
the first time China backed off before
a nuclear threat by the USA on a less
than ultimately vital ussue.
In the 1950's and into the 1960's
I
Peking's goal was to mollify Nehru so as
to be free to deal with the American
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danger to China's east and southeast.
By the late 1960's, the question put to
the Mao group was how to prevent the
situation from further benefitting the
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threatening enough that we do not have
to remind ourselves of the natural right
of all governments to exaggerate the evil
intentions of the national enemy. Strat
egists in Peking had to worry that a
Russian success against Pakistan might
embolden Russian hawks to pursue further
action against China. Interventionists
in the Soviet Union out for a showdown
with the Mao group might become enamour
ed with the possibilities of stepping
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up pressure against China and urge India
on to wilder, more reckless moves.
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What was China to do? Caution was
called for. But appeasement might only
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that further enemy action would succeed.
Everything in the Maoist experience
spoke against passivity. Yet ruling
groups in China found themselves making
policy within grooves forged by interna
t tional economic forces, distant politi
cal struggles and super-power military
activities, all of which were beyond
r China's powers to control. Everything
t
in the Maoist heritage spoke against
! such paralysis. Everything spoke for
f
initiative and risk before the major
enemy could choose the time, place and
nature of the combat. So far we are for
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tunate that matters stopped where they
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did. It is even possible that the Nixon
Administration played a role in getting
the Russians to restrain India for the
moment. But in the potential for further
t
t
anti-China action of Moscow and its
friends lies dangerous dynamite of a
genuinely earth-shaking character.
This all must seem insane to people
genuinely hypnotized by the plight of
millions of innocent Bengalis, to people
for whom inner Asia is a figment of the
imagination, for people so sick of the
hypocritical rationales of warmakers
that they can't even listen to discus
sions of military strategy which seem to
justify more armed initiatives, more
killing. Naturally, a Bengali need not
be moved at all by the predicament
called Russian anti-Maoist power which
confronts Peking. Bengalis shot down by
Chinese (or American) weapons need find
neither justice nor succor in the Chi
nese standpoint. BangIa Desh meets the
Soviet Union as a friend. China is con
fronted by the USSR as a major, armed
enemy. Consequently, the view from the
precipice in Peking encompasses dan
gerous vistas and difficult priorities
very different from those perceived
from the plains of BangIa Desh.
FOOTNOTES
1. South China Morning Post (Hong
Kong), 20 Oct. 1971; Hong Kong St andard,
22 Oct. 1971; Wen hui pao (Hong Kong),
22 Oct. 1971; sources provided by Loren
Fessler.
2. New China News Agency, 14 Nov.
1970.
3. Hung-ch'i(Red Flag), 1971, #6,
p. 5; New York Times, 7 Nov. 1971,
p. l 8 , ~ i n a Expected to Champion Under
deve loped Lands of U. S "
4. The analysis outlined in this
and the next paragraph is developed in
detail in my forthcoming book, Chinese
Foreign Policy in the Era of Mao Tse
tung.
5. For an argument which suggests
that this nationalistic Maoist analysis
can be derived and developed from dilem
nas inherent in Marxism, see R.N. Berki,
"On Marxian Thought and the Problem of
International Relations," World Politics,
24.1 (Oct. 1971), p. 80-105.
6. Although the Chinese do not make
this additional point, they could well
argue that since America grew mighty on
the two world wars, while its present
107
economic crisis predated and indeed
limited the intervention in Indochina,
then for the world as a whole, new anti
imperialist revolutions can be nurtured
on conditions other than world war. Or,
just as logically, they can find that
only another war among imperialist com
petitors can free the forces of revolu
tion. In that case, there is little for
China to do but concentrate on securing
and advancing the revolution at home,
which is what Mao has done.
7. Russian analysts of Chinese for
eign policy find that "The idea that the
war danger emanates 'from the north',
that is, from the Soviet Union, is con
stantly being dinned into the heads of
the [Chinese] people. In other words,
it is an attempt to picture the Soviet
Union as 'Enemy Number One', as a na
tional menace to China". "This is a
long-range policy anti-Sovietism as
a foundation of China's international
state policy". (N. Kapchenko, "Books
on the Foreign Policy of the Chinese
People's Republic," International Af
fairs, 1971 #9, p. 100). Mao is said to
have told the CPC Central Committee that
the Soviet Union "represents a greater
threat to China than the weary paper
tiger of American imperialism". (John
Gittings in Far Eastern Economic Re
view, 30 Jan:-T969, p. 175).
8. New China News Agency, Peking,
21 May 1971.
9. New York Times, 16 Dec. 1971,
p. 17 and 18 Dec. 1971, p. 13; New China
News Agency, Peking, 17 Dec. 1971.
10. CIA-related organizations used
to fulfill that function. The coopera
tion of the US Pentagon and India's
Ministry of Defense in everything from
Advanced Research Project Agency activ
ities in the Himalayas to helping Tibet
an rebels remains an untold story. In
1967 at the height of the American in
tervention in Indochina against alleged
Maoist aggression by proxy, Chester
Bowles "in briefing a dubious Joint
Chiefs of Staff on U.S. interests in
India... suddenly jerked them up stiff.
He asked the brass if they ever thought
where else the manpower was to come from
if there ever was an honest to goodness
land war with Communist China." (Herald
Tribune, 15 Jan. 1968).
108
In mid-1964 the Panchen Lama reportedly
was removed from power in Tibet and accused
of colluding with foreign enemies on be
half of rebellion. "As relations [between
China and] the Soviet Union went from bad
to worse, 'war preparation' increased in
pitch and intensity since 1965 [but espe
cially since 1967 or 1968]. For the first
time, the Chinese in Tibet began to openly
point out Russia as a major threat." By
1970 with military airfields under hasty
construction, with regular black-outs and
exercises in civil defense, with Tibetans
being recruited by the thousands into the
People's Liberation Army and Chinese pro
paganda "telling the people that the third
world war was immiment," even Tibetan re
fugees in India granted that these frantic
Chinese moves "reflect genuine fear of
external aggression." As Peking trans
ferred certain of its nuclear establish
ment back into Tibet and with Moscow
broadcasting to Tibetans about ruthless
Han Chinese suppression, the Chinese fear
fully pressed ahead with defense prepara
tions. Tibetan Review (Darjee1ing), 15
March 1970, p. 4; 15 April 1970, p. 2;
1 June 1970, pp. 3, 5-9; 1 July 1970,
pp. 3,6; 15 September 1970, p. 2. Cf.:
R. Vaidyanath, "The Soviet View of the
Tibetan Situation," International Studies,
10.4 (April 1969): 602-606 for a pre
liminary exploration of Russian involve
ment with the explosive situation in Tibet.
Chinese foreign policy statements seldom
express fear. On the contrary, in an
attempt to persuade a potential aggressor
that an attack would be self-defeating,
Chinese policy statements tend to insist
that China is tough, prepared, optimistic,
fearful of nothing.
11. New China News Agency, Peking
17 December 1971.
12. Ou-yang Wu-wei, "Sino-Soviet
Border Problems," Issues and Studies,
1 (Oct. 1964), pp. 28, 30-.
13. New York Times, 17 Jan. 1966,
Vice President Humphrey's comments fol
lowing discussions in the Soviet Union;
New York Times, 20 December 1971.
The 0.1. Move..eal ia Asia
by Richard DeCamp
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The War against Vietnam has done much
to America. It has weakened the economy.
It has aggravated social tensions. And
it has opened the way for large num
bers of Americans to see the racism,
the imperialism and the genocide that
is so pervasive and yet so deeply bur
ied in American history. By fighting so
successfully, the Vietnamese people have
helped Americans make a space for revol
utionary thought and revolutionary pol
itics in America. While it is true that
the American left has been largely un
able to take advantage of the widespread
discontent that the War has created,
there has been a significant erosion in
the effectiveness of many American insti
tutions. Central among these institutions
is the military. When the values and
interests of a ruling class are serious
ly challenged, its political power does
come out 0 f the barrel of a gun; and so
the fading effectiveness of the Ameri
can military is of the deepest concern
to America's "leaders."
And effectiveness of the American
military, especially the Army, has erod
ed rapidly in the last few years. Today
men are reprimanded or perhaps lose a
stripe for actions that in other wars
would have caused them to be shot. In
Vietnam, men frequently refuse to follow
orders when those orders seem irrational
or unnecessarily dangerous. Officers
are frequently as afraid of their own
men as they are of the enemy. And with
reason. In Vietnam itself, this erosion
of the Army's ability to wage war is not
an organized movement and is probably
not often informed by a developed polit
ical consciousness. Rather it is a gut
reaction to an intolerable situation.
Building on the GI' s gut reaction
against the War is a GI movement with
projects at many U.S. military bases
throughout the globe. As Gabriel Kolko
has pointed out, the a n t i ~ a r movement
must
deprive the government of those
institutional resources to which
we have access which it needS for
the maintenance of this war..
I think that the only really large
scale promising area of action for
the anti-war movement today is
the GI: the a;pmy and the morale
factor .. I think that the GI's
are the people who most of all
have got to see this war solved
because their lives are on the
line. .. , especially in the Far East
where the GI movement, ironically
enough, is the least funded, the
least capable of dealing with the
problems of anti-war activity and
paid even far less attention to.l
In Asia the GI movement is poor, but
it is very much alive. It is the product
of a very real internationalism in which
the GI's who stand up to say no to the
military are encouraged and materially
supported by Japanese, Okinawan, Fili
pino and Chinese a n t i ~ a r activists, as
well as American civilians.
In August 1969, American GI's sta
tioned at Misawa Air Base (a major base
located in northern Japan) began publi
cation of Hair, Japan's first GI news
paper. In the first editorial, the GI's
wrote:
This is definitely an unofficial
publication.. . The purpose of our
paper is to project the "truth"
as seen through the eyes, hearts,
and mindS of the ''war baby" gen
eration. We are of varied ethnic
109
and economic backgrounds. .. The
white world must end its suppres
sion, both economic and political,
of the Third World's unconquerable
SP1.>ri t of freedom.
One month later, on MOratorium Day, some
GI's at Misawa expressed their solidar
ity with Third World people in an on
base vigil to demand an end to the war
in Indochina.
In February 1970, a group of dissi
dent marines stationed at Iwakuni Marine
Air Station (a major staging base for
U. S. operations in Vietnam which is
located in southern Japan) began publ,i
cation of Semper Fi. Reflecting the sen
timent of the GI's at Misawa, the marines
entered their reasons for joining the
struggle. To the Indochinese people, they
wrote: "We GI! s wish to make it clear
to the world that this shameful, unjust
war does not have our support." To the
Japanese, they wrote: ''We support the
Japanese people in their just struggle
against the U.S. military occupation
of their homeland.. [We don't wish to
be] in Japan carrying out an expansion
ist U.S. foreign policy." And to each
other, they wrote:"The U. S. military
es tabl ishment, that's t rong fo rce in
defense of freedom, f offers precious
little freedom to those unlucky enough
to find themselves under its near
absolute authority."
The War, the U.S. military presence
in Japan, and an oppressive military
establishment. Just how widespread the
feelings among GI's stationed in Japan
in the spring of 1970 were on these is
sues is difficult to know, but there is
plenty of reason to believe that these
rumblings of discontent were reaching an
unprecedented scale.
Beheiren's Struggle
In the 1960 struggle against renew
al of the U.S.-Japan Security Treaty,
Japan's "New Left" emerged as a force
to be reckoned with. Since then, Japan
ese workers and students have struggled
vigorously against the treaty itself and
against the development of what they call
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the "Arrrpo [Security Treaty] system"
the system of economic and military
cooperation through which a resurgent
Japanese capitalism has allied itself
with U.S. imperialism to jointly domi
nate East and Southeast Asia. As Amer
icaI s involvement in Vietnam escalated,
so did the protests of the Japanese
people. They saw their government aid
ing in AmericaI s slaughter of another
Asian people and demanded that the U.S.
bases in Japan be removed.
One group in particular took up
the struggle against the war in Viet
nam. That was Beheiren (the Citizens
Alliance for Peace in Vietnam), found
ed on April 24, 1965, just after L.B.J.
began the bombing of North Vietnam.
Beheiren demanded that all U.S. forces
get out of Vietnam, and in its early
y,ears, it sought to act concretely on
that demand by aiding American soldiers
who wanted to desert. In 1965, it found
ed the Japan Technical Committee to Aid
War Deserters (JATEC), which by 1968
had gained international attention for
its work aiding four American sailors,
deserters from the aircraft carrier
Intrepid, to make their escape from Ja
pan to Sweden.
Since its founding, JATEC has help
ed many American deserters. When neces
sary it continues to do so today. But
the difficulty of this form of struggle
(the underground route from Japan to
Sweden was infiltrated by the military
and cut off) and the opportunities pre
sented by the growing willingness of
American GI's to struggle within the
military itself moved the Japanese to
alter the direction of their activity.
In the words of Takahashi Taketomi,
coordinator for JATEC:
the main direction of our activ
ity began to alter in the autumn
of 1969; by spring 1970 decisive
changes were evident. The initial
expression of our anti-war con
sciousness, manifested by protect
ing and hiding deserters and ar
ranging for their escape from Ja
pan, developed into more active
and aggressive involvement. [Today]
most of the activists who belong
to JATEC are directly engaged in
organizing GI's in American bases
aU over Japan.
In line with this change in empha
sis, the name of JATEC was changed to
the Japan Technical Committee to Aid
Anti-War GI's. In January 1971 a JATEC
center was established in Tokyo to coor
dinate Japanese support activities for
the GI movement throughout Japan. At the
same time good relationships were estab
lished with American activists working
in the GI movement through the Pacific
Counseling Service. Today the two groups
share the Tokyo office, and both Japan
ese and American work actively at most
projects.
2
Iwakuni
On July 4, 1970, some 30 marines
confined to the Iwakuni Marine Air
Station's "Correctional Custody Cen
ter" (known to GI's as "the slam")
kicked off an uprising in protest
against oppressive brig conditions and
the "kangaroo-court" nature of military
justice. Six marines occupied the deten
tion house and destroyed the library,
washroom, and dormitory. They then broke
out of the building and were joined by
other prisoners as they took control of
the brig compound, lit fires with gaso
line-soaked rags, and painted peace signs
on the sides of buildings. They held out
against overwhelming odds until 6: 30 AM
on Sunday, July 5--a total of 14 hours.
Later, a Marine Corps spokesman "could
think of no cause" for the uprising.
The brig uprising had been preceded
by other signs of discontent, most not
ably a meeting held on February 5 be
tween 40 marines (30 blacks and 10
whites) and the new base commander, Brig.
Gen. Johnson. Johnson had been sent to
Iwakuni specifically to deal with the
growing tension among GI's there. To do
so he had established the "Human Rela
tions Commit tee," which sponsored this
meeting between the General and his men.
At the meeting the GI's made six de
mands: 1) an end to racism off base,
2) an end to racism in the Provost Mar
shall's Office, 3) an end to military
censorship of books relating to black
consciousness as expressed by the base
library's refusal to acquire certain
books, 4) freedom of dress, 5) an end
to racism in the military justice sys
tem, and 6) an end to the brass' hos
tility toward black unity. The general's
attitude was a mixture of paternalism
and a rather weak liberalism:
What I have to have. to recom
mend to Col. Quinn to put some
place off [limits in the] town
is a consistent I would
say several and by several I mean
3-5 that can be documented. Now
when I say do aumente d I don't mean
that you're gonna tell me that some
one else told you. It's gotta be
straight foward from the guy him
self 'oouse in dealing with these
problems I find there's a fantas
tic amount of hearsay and when it
comes right down to.. hang on a
secondwhen it comes right
down to. why don't you take your
dark glasses off. You know you're
gonna go blind if you wear dark
glasses inside all the time. That's
one of the things I lear-ned when
I was in the al l-weather business ..
I got to have facts ..
In response to the general's refusal
to confront the racism of the whole sys
tem, the brothers finally pointed out:
... you refuse to see how... these
incidences are connected with each
other. You look at each incident
as as an individual situation
and should be solved in this squad
I mean in his own squadron.
But all of 'em are connected to
gether in a certain way.
3
As might have been expected, the
general refused to make that connection
and no real change came out of the meet
ing itself. What did happen was that the
GI participants came to realize fully
that the General was unable to even
understand their demands, much less take
effective action to achieve them. Soon
thereafter the "HlUllan Relations Commit
tee" collapsed, and Iwakuni GI' s took
more direct action to combat the racism
and oppression laid down on them by the
111
brass.
As the movement at Iwakuni grew in
early 1970, the brass began to take ser
ious notice. They struck back with such
familiar actions as punitive transfers,
redbaiting and intimidation. They charg
ed that anyone connected with GI news
papers ''was courting charges of mutiny
and sedition." Between April and June
of 1970, the more active GI's at Iwakuni
were shipped out. They included one GI
who had planned anti-war love-ins and
four who had been active in the publi
cation of Semper Fi. One of these men,
sent first to Okinawa and then to Viet
nam, said of the brass' actions: "The
military brass seems to think that by
transferring us, it will halt GI move
ment activities. It's wrong."
He was right. The Iwakuni brass tried
and failed to stop GI's from associat
ing with anti-war Japanese. On April 19,
in one attempt to separate GI's from
Japanese activists, the brass suspend
ed liberty for Iwakuni GI' s because of
a Japanese demonstration in Iwakuni.
In response, one GI said:
The broaBS figuroed that the GI's
would blame the foro
the loss of thus droiving
a wedge between the seY'Vicemen
and the Japanese anti-waro move
ment. But the Generoal is finding
that m:Jroe and moroe of 'his' men
aPe becoming theiro own men . ..
Support for the movement grew. In the
fall of 1970, Japanese and American civ
ilians came to the defense of Norm Ewing.
Norm was revolted by the barbarism of
the U.S. actions he had witnessed in
Vietnam. He registered his dissent by
going AWOL in April, 1970, shortly af
ter being shipped to Iwakuni from Viet
nam. He found refuge with sympathetic
Japanese civilians who shared his anti
war feelings. On June 11, he was arrest
ed by U. S. military police outside the
Iwakuni base in direct violation of the
U.S.-Japan Security Treaty, which does
not empower M.P. 's to make off-base
arrests. Nonetheless Norm was confined
to the Iwakuni brig and charged with
desertion. After the July 4 brig up
rising, he was accused with 13 others
of "inciting to riot."
Norm's trial was unprecedented for
a U.S. military courtmartial in Asia.
His supporters packed the courtroom
during the proceedings which began on
November 13, four months after his ar
rest. Japanese took the witness stand
in his defense. And his defense counsel
consisted not only of the usual military
lawyer, but also an American movement
lawyer, two American civilians who acted
as legal assistants, and a Japanese law
yer. Such support was unheard of in mili
tary courts in Asia which normally try
their victims with neither publicity
nor independent legal help.
Norm pled guilty to violations of
existing military law, but stated that
such violations are necessary in these
times when the law serves injustice and
aggression. The defense based its case
on the illegality of his arrest as a
violation of the Security Treaty and was
able to have the desertion charge re
duced to one of AWOL. But the military
still controlled the jury, and on Decem
ber 9, Norm was sentenced to 9 months
in prison and a bad conduct discharge.
Okinawa
Okinawa is a special case in the U.S.
military occupation of Asia. Only in
Indochina is the reality of American
imperialism more pervasive and destruc
tive. Conquered in June 1945, after one
of the bloodiest battles of World War
II, Okinawa has been ruled directly by
the U.S. military ever since. Until 1952,
land for military bases was simply seiz
ed from the Okinawan people without cere
mony and without compensation.
The U.S. military has made massive
changes in Okinawan life. Before the
war, Okinawans were a farming people,
but by 1969 the U. S. had established 117
bases on Okinawa, bases which occupy
44% of the arable land. The result has
been Okinawan economic dependence on
the bases. But this dependence, far from
being gratefully accepted as military
112
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propagandists assert, has been bitterly
resisted by the Okinawan people, whose
strongest desire is to be left alone by
all military forces, Japanese as well as
American.
Since the onset of major U.S. involve
ment in Vietnam, Okinawa has become a
key base for the prosecution of the war.
Countless bombing raids have taken off
from the island, and many of the GI's
there are Vietnam veterans. Like most
Americans, but perhaps even more in
tensely because of their military exper
ience, young GI's on Okinawa oppose
the war and instinctively see through
Nixon's rationalizations about ''wind
ing it down." Black GI's on Okinawa
have been influenced by Martin Luther
King, the Black Panther Party and other
political groups within the black commun
ity. Their political consciousness is
often very high.
In October 1970, a very together
group of black GI' s began to pub Ush
Demand For Freedom at Kadena Air Base.
Like other GI papers the Demand stres
sed the petty oppressions inflicted
upon GI's by the brass. But it also in
cluded a remarkable dialogue between
black GI's and some Okinawan members of
Zengunro, the base workers' union. In
the past there had generally been deep
hostility between GI's and Okinawans.
The Okinawans tend to see GI's as their
immediate oppressors, while the GI's
frequently have racist attitudes towards
Asians whose anti-military struggle
they don't understand. The Demand's dia
logue began to move against this mutual
misunderstanding. One common area of
understanding grew out of mutual exper
ience of racism. Just as there have been
segregated toilets in the South, the
legal office at Kadena has separate toi
lets for "women" (writ ten only in Eng
lish) and "cleaning women" (written
in English and Japanese). The rap end
ed with a call to solidarity:
Did you know that this OkinCMan
that you have so frequently re
lated to as being a ' g o o k ~ ' which
is the same as being called a
'nigger' in your so-caUed country~
is your brother? Yes he is your
brother whether you have opened
your mind up to this fact or not ..
He's a victim of the same racism,
faaism and capitalism that oppres
ses us. :the OkinCMan people must
struggle as blaok people in Baby
lon must struggle for self-deter
mination. Now is the time to seek
your brother; brothers are alike..
This call for solidarity was ex
pressed concretely in a riot on December
20, 1970, in Koza city. The riot was
touched off when an American motorist
hit and injured an Okinawan. M.P.'s sent
the American on his way without even
checking on the condition of the vic
tim (not an infrequent occurence on Oki
nawa). Then, in the most intense rioting
to flare up since the U.S. occupation
began, 10,000 Okinawans took to the
streets and overturned and burned over
80 American automobiles. They refrained,
however, from attacking black GI's. Five
hundred Okinawans managed to fight their
way through the gates into Kadena Air
Base. In response to the incident, 30
black Glls on base issued a statement
calling the riot perfectly justifiable-
a "beautiful" action.
This past spring, Dave Poplin, a
GI stationed on Okinawa,J made some sensa
tional revelations about the Okinawan
operations of the 7th Psychological Unit.
In the summer of 1970, Dave had refused
an order to write a leaflet which, as
part of a contingency plan, would be
dropped on North Korea to explain the
necessity of using nuclear weapons there.
He then applied for a Conscientious
Objector discharge; but, harrassed by
the brass, he was forced to go AWOL. On
April 10, 1971, he called a press confer
ence during which he exposed the opera
tions of his unit, operations which in
cluded the distribution of leaflets
concealed inside toys and transistor
radios and, for Laos, a soap which when
used reveals messages listing actions
people might take to "protect freedom."
The next day Dave brought formal charges
for committing war crimes against three
superior officers.
On April 14, Dave was courtmartialed
on the AWOL charge and received a rela
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tively light sentence. But less than a
week later he was back in the stockade
on new charges. On May 4, he went on a
hunger strike charging that the military
had violated his constitutional rights.
Eleven days later he was the victim of
a knifing while he slept in his cell.
His attacker was not found. In June,
Dave was court-martialed again, and now
he's back in the U.S. and out of the
military .
The military fights back, and many
politically conscious GI's have now
been discharged or transferred. But
many thousands of discontented and in
creasingly aware GI' s remain, and the
brass finds it ever more difficult
~ o keep them in check. One example of
the growing discontent came last July
in a riot at the Futenma Marine Corps
Air Station. It began when black mar
ines insisted on defending themselves
against a white vigilante group, the
KKK. The next day, after another racist
incident, 400 marines, both black and
white, tore up the base. They now stress
that it wasn't a race riot, and since
the riot blacks and whites have worked
together to press their grievances.
Misawa
At Misawa Air Base in northern Japan,
growing Japanese support for GI's found
expression in a new way. On July 15,
1970, with the support of Beheiren,
five Japanese students and ex-students
opened the Owl, Asia's first GI move
ment coffee house. It stands a block
away from the main gate of what is now
a joint U.S. Air Force and Japan Self
Defense Force base, a symbol of Japan's
growing partnership with U.S. imperial
ism in Asia. Anti-war GI's gained strong
support at the Owl. They revived Hair,
the underground base paper, which had
been forced to suspend publication in
1969 after the brass had shipped out
its editors.
In May, in coordination with the
Spring Anti-war Offensive activities
throughout Japan and the U. S., GI' s who
were beginning to see the Air Force not
as a "Force for Freedom" but as an
instrument of U.S. imperialism launched
114
several actions at Misawa. On May 2,
30 GI's and some dependents wore arm
bands imprinted with Peace and Power
symbols as they walked around base,
individually and in groups in a demon
stration of protest against the war,
racism and repression. Leaflets describ
ed the NLF's latest peace proposal,
Spring Offensive activities in the U.S.
and Japan, and the People's Peace Trea
ty; and posters depicting victims of
U.S. fire-power in Vietnam with the
statement "Vietnamese Have Children
Too!" appeared on the base and in the
town area surrounding the main gate of
the base.
Two weeks later on May 15, which
was "Armed Farces Day", about the same
number of GI's, again wearing armbands,
joined Japanese civilians in demonstrat
ing their revulsion towards the military.
GI's and civilians again passed out anti
war leaflets. One GI, wearing a peace
armband, walked by the "dignitaries"
reviewing stand during flight demonstra
tions by U. S. Air Force F4D Phantoms and
flashed the generals a peace sign. From
the base commander on down, the word was
passed to apprehend the man. He was
quickly taken to the Provost Marshall's
office, where the Air Police took his
jacket away (it was imprinted with a
peace sign and the words "All Power to
the People") and then released him.
Later about 20 GI's (mostly black) and
an equal number of Japanese civilians
gathered spontaneously on base to sing
and rap with each other. It was a sharp
contrast to the grim display of war
machines and simulated combat demonstra
tions.
Korea, the Philippines and Hong Kong
In Korea, the Philippines and Hong
Kong, organizers are constantly harras
sed and are often unable to make
solid contact with Asian support groups,
but the movement among GI' s continues
to be active. In Seoul, on May 17,
1971, 30 GI's held a three-hour sit-in
in front of the Foreign Exchange Bank
and the Chosan Hotel. This was the first
anti-war demonstration by GI's in Korea.
Korean police busted the demonstrators
and turned them over to M.P.'s, but so
far no charges have been brought agains t
them.
In the Philippines, GI's publish the
Whig, edited by Tom Paine and Sam Adams.
Filipinos, often at great personal risk,
have supported the printing and distri
bution of the Whig, and the GI move
ment has brought Filipinos and Ameri
cans into a common struggle against the
U.S. military presence in Asia. Of all
the GI papers in Asia, the Whig has
probably been the most effective at
muckraking. Last year it exposed the
operations of the Red Patches, an offi
cially encouraged gang of NCO's who were
known to beat up Filipino civilians
whom the brass at Clark Air Force Base
found obnoxious. The follow-up to this
story in the Filipino press shook both
the U.S. military and the Philippine
gove rumen t .
While Hong Kong has no U.S. mili
tary bases, it did have until recently
an extensive R &R (rest and recreation)
program for GI's from Vietnam, and it
continues as a port of call for the 7th
Fleet. American and European activists
in Hong Kong have sought to make con
tact with these GI's despite the fact
that they are usually in Hong Kong for
no trore than five days. One major pro
ject was a guidebook to Hong Kong, inter
spersed with sections on GI rights, GI
counseling and the invasion of Cambodia.
Later, when Newsreel films on the war
and the Panthers became available, many
GI's came to see the films and rap about
the war. When they left, many took anti
war literature back to Vietnam.
Because most GI's on R & R in Hong
Kong have come straight from the battle
zone and will return to it again in
several days, their consciousness of the
war and its horrors is intense. There
were five GI suicides from drug overdose
between spring 1970 and summer 1971. All
occurred on the eve of departure back
to Vietnam, and all were quickly hushed
up by British and American authorities.
There were also frequent racial inci
dents, and the blacks' main hangout was
placed off limits. Several times racial
slurs against black GI's at the airport
sparked spontaneous mass refusals to
return to Vietnam, and on two occasions
British troops and colonial police had
to be called out to deal with the re
s is ting GI' s . 4
Yokota
The newest GI organizing project
in Asia is located at Yokota Air Force
Base in the suburbs of Tokyo. Yokota
is a major logistical center serving
Korea and Vietnam. For several years
Japanese activists, spearheaded by
JATEC and Beheiren, have mounted demon
strations against the Yokota base. On
June 13, 1971, several thousand Japan
ese demonstrated outside Yokota, once
again with the aim of stopping, if only
for a short time, the U.S. war machine.
At the rally in Fussa Park, many repre
sentatives of Japanese anti-war groups
spoke. Also one GI. In a short and
moving statement, he declared that all
GI's are political prisoners and appeal
ed to those present to help free the
GI's at Yokota.
In the demonstration that followed
at least five GI's marched, two of them
carrying an anti-war sign. Hundreds of
others gave peace and power signs from
alongside the road. Because joining
even non-violent demonstrations in a
foreign country is an offense in the
U.S. military, the two GI's who were
identified as actually marching (they
were the ones who carried the sign) were
court-martialed. Their Air Force lawyer
argued that the regulation was uncon
stitutional; and though his motions for
dismissal were routinely denied, the
two GI's may ultimately win their case
on appeal. In the meantime, they were
taken off their jobs (which was fine
with them), and each was fined $100.
Soon after the June 13th demonstra
tion, GI's at Yokota put out the first
issue of their paper, The First Amend
men t. In mid-Jul y several hundred GI' s
c;me to Fussa Park for an anti-war rock
festival. Several GI bands and one
Japanese band played. One GI folksinger
played songs from Barbara Dane's Viet
nam Song Book. Shortly thereafter his
115
commander presented him with a pile of
photos and reports that all showed that
yes, ~ d e e d , he had done it, and told
him that if he did it again lots of bad
things would happen. The festival organ
izers rapped about the People's Peace
Treaty and several GI's signed it as
well as a large peace flag which was to
be presented to the crew of a visiting
Chinese ship.
Working with GI's in Asia
For activist American civilians in
Asia, working with GI' s is exciting and
rewarding. Right where the war is being
fought, one sees the military breaking
down. GI's are directly oppressed by the
military -- both by bu11shit regulations
and by the fact that it is they who must
do the killing and the dying in Indo
china. They know that they want out of
the whole military machine and they re
spond to leaflets and GI newspapers with
real enthusiasm.
This is not to say that there are
not difficulties. Perhaps the most
immediate problem is fear. GI's are sub
ject to constant harrassment from their
superiors. Incredible things are ille
gal; carrying an umbrella while in uni
form is one. This petty harrassment is
one of the military's greatest weakness
es because it generates so much discon
tent that morale and work performance
are very low. Many "lifers" (career
NCO's) seem far more interested in the
length of a man's hair than in his abil
ity on the job.
Nonetheless, this harrassment does
serve a purpose. Many GI's are basic
ally escapist rather than activist.
They simply try to adjust to the fact
that two, three or four years of their
lives will be totally meaning1ess.
5
They
tum off their minds for the eight hours
a day that they're on the job. Many
have very expensive toys such as motor
cycles and stereos. When off duty, they
retreat into their music and try only
to "get over." They feel that protes t
and activism can only lead to more
hassles and so they avoid it.
Then too, GI's are aware that po1it
ical activism can bring down some heavy
shit. Dave Poplin was the victim of a
terzorist attack - probably with the
collusion of his prison guards. GI's
who demonstrate or organize are fre
quently court-martialed, and military
stockades just ain't where it's at.
Finally, GI' s know that organizing pzo
jects are under constant surveillance
and that anyone who visits them is
likely to find his name in the files of
the OSI (Office of Special Investiga
tions). Like all Americans, they don't
like this kind of political spying, and
many have exaggerated fears of its effect
on their future. One very intelligent
GI came to the Yokota project to talk
about China with Marilyn Young of CCAS
and other GI's. A very nice guy, but
we never found out who he was. He was
afraid to give his name.
Drugs are related to the fear and
escapism that GI's feel. As everyone
knows by now, GI' s in Asia use a lot of
dope. This form of cultural rebellion
does reduce the efficiency of the mili
tary; stoned GI' s aren't very good work
ers. The drug culture, when it doesn't
involve heroin, can be a basis for sol
idarity among young, anti-military GI's-
both black and white. They feel unity
in opposition to the older lifers and
the brass who try to suppress them and
their culture. As an oppressed group
within the military, "first termers"
(GI's who are serving their first and
usually only tour of duty in the mili
tary) have developed a poorly articulat
ed but real ideology which is anti
military, anti-establishment, pro-peace,
pro-sharing and also pro-dope.
However, the dope culture frequently
has undermined the GI movement. It is
difficult to defend GI organizers who
get busted on dope charges. More impor
tant, heavy users, though they are usual
ly in rebellion against the military,
tend to be wary of the GI movement be
cause they know that any political in
volvement will further intensify the
already heavy pressure from the OSI.
MOreover, dope is not appreciated by
most Asians. For many it is associated
with the oppression of imperialism, not
with liberation from it. Above all, dope
116
is escapist. It helps people to "get
over." It isn't struggle-oriented. On
balance, dope use among GI's is far more
harmful than helpful. But its use is
almos t universal among young GI' s, and
only the most dedicated would give it
up to be more effective in the move
ment.
One last problem should be mention
ed. GI's in Asia frequently have racist
and sexist attitudes towards both Asians
and each other. Like all Americans, they
are the products of a sexist and a
racist society. Many of their attitudes
can be traced to the racism and sexism
of military training and of military
life. Blacks and whites in the military
carry with them all of the problems of
American life, problems which are inten
sified by the pressures of the military.
With Asians, language is an enormous
barrier, and most GI's have contact
only with those Asians who serve the
military in bars and stereo stores.
Clearly one of the primary tasks
of the GI movement in Asia is to fight
the racism and sexism of GI's. This is
a difficult task because GI' s are them
selves so exploited by the brass that
they often want only to relieve their
own hurt. But it can be done. At the
Yokota Rock Festival, a beautiful
Japanese man named Jun rapped to many
GI's. After it was allover, one of
them connuented that it was the first
time in nearly two years in Japan that
he had really rapped with a Japanese
man. One of the beautiful things about
the GI movement in Asia is the long
hard work of htmdreds of Asian men and
women. Many of the GI projects were
founded and are largely staffed by
Asians. All receive extensive support
from Asians. And this kind of support
from their Asian brothers and sisters
enables many GI's to realize for the
first time that the u.s. military is
oppressing not just them but most of
the people of the world.
The Future
Despite the difficulties and frus
t rations, working with GI' s is one of
the most exciting and important things
that an American can do in Asia. For
GI's are part of the actual striking
force of u.s. imperialism in Asia and
elsewhere. Today the Marines and the
Army are particularly weak links in
America's military chain, and support
for these very rebellious GI's must
continue.
But the burden of the War is moving
to the Air Force. Air Force people are
sometimes hard to organize. They are
frequently middle class. They're not
subject to the intense repression
Marines suffer. They tend to be very
good at "getting over." But they are
beginning to see what the Air Force is
doing to them and to others. They're
angry and getting angrier. As the Air...;.
men who publish Helping Hand put it:
GI's in the Ar>rny and in the Marine
Corps have organized into anti-war
groups. They have demanded deaent
treatment and they have said that
they won't fight anymore. The
result is that aonditions have im
proved for them and most of the
ground troops in Vietnam are being
puUed out. Powero to our brothel'S
in the Marine Co rps and AT'I71Y! But
how about us? Now that almost the
entire burden of the war is about
to be isn't it about time
that we organize?
The GI movement in As ia keeps on
trucking. Projects are active with leaf
lets, newspapers, festivals and demon
strations. In November, folk
singer Barbara Dane is coming to Asia.
In December, Jane Fonda's FTA show will
be there. It should be an active year.
Projects need people, if only to leaf
let or to come out and rap. They also
need books, films, money and of course
people prepared to take on organizing
responsibilities. New projects need to
be started to get the word to GI's who
still remain relatively untouched by the
activity around them.
6
As George Jackson
said: "It's always been my contention
that if we could raise the hard left
military and political cadre in fascist
America, that cadre would come from
117
either the prisons or the dissident
elements within the Armed Forces."
Right on!
FOOTNOTES
1. Liberation, Spring, 1971, pp.
89-90.
2. PCS and JATEC both have offices
at: Ishii Building, 6-44 Kagurazaka,
Shinjuku-ku, Tokyo, Japan. An excellent
source of information on the GI move
ment both in Asia and the U.S. is
News, a monthly newsletter available
for $3/year from Camp News; 2801 N.
Sheffield; Chicago, Ill. 60657.
3. A taped transcript of the meeting
was smuggled out by GI participants. It
is reproduced in full in Ampo, Report
From the Japanese New Left, No.6. For
those who don't know Ampo, it is probab
ly the best English language source on
the movement, GI and otherwise, in
Japan. It's available for $6/year from
Ampo; P.O. Box 5250; Tokyo International,
Japan.
4. The section on Hong Kong is
based on information provided by Frank
Keh1.
5. Comments on the meaninglessness
of GI life of course refer only to those
GI's who live and work in the relative
safety of Japan. For many GI's, espec
ially for those in Indochina, the War is
not only a matter of boredom (though it
is that) but also a matter of life or
death.
6. Currently there are projects
in Japan at Misawa, Yokota, Iwakuni and
on Okinawa. Especially desireable would
be new projects at Sasebo Navy Base in
Kyushu and at Yokosuka Navy Base near
Yokohama. There is plenty of room for
more work in Okinawa, and there are also
many smaller bases where people could
work in Japan. There is also work being
done in Hong Kong and the Philippines.
More help is needed. In Korea, Taiwan
and Southeast Asia, there are lots of
GI's, but there is also heavy repres
sion. Still, it may be possible to do
some work there. CCAS people have worked
in a small way with GI's in Asia and a
lot more could do so. People who want to
should contact the Pacific Counseling
Service (PCS) office in Tokyo.
VIET,NAM
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- UcJ,,_r&

GLAD DAY PRESS
Stewart Avenue
Ithaca, New York 14850
118
1
l
I
I
VielDaDiese So.rces OD VielDam.
!
I
by David Marr
I
In trying to understand Vietnam and
the Vietnamese people, Western readers
have been dependent for the most part on
only a handful of Western writers and
journalists--a1most none of whom have
bothered to master the Vietnamese
language. Actually, for many years this
seemed not to discomfort either
writers or readers. Among Americans in
particular it might be said that a
silent pact existed between specialist
and audience, whereby the Vietnamese
were to be regarded conveniently as
objects, as ahistorica1, depersonalized
creatures who merited discussion only
because the United States had become
"invo1ved" in the same rice paddies,
rivers, and mountain tops. While the
Pentagon Papers have shown us the sublime
arrogance and ethnocentricity of govern
ment policy-makers, it should not be
forgotten that most Americans share
the same basic outlook.
Such is no longer the case, we
may at least hope. American specialists
are learning the language. More important,
they are turning away from research
that serves only the neo-co1onia1 inter
ests of the U.S. Government (Rand, ARPA,
AID, SEADAG, SIU, etc) towards research
that interprets the whole range of
Vietnamese experience to the public at
large. Hence the emphasis for the moment
is on history and culture, although it
should be admitted that there is still
no book in English on the literature of
Vietnam. Nor have any of the new special
ists paid much attention yet to getting
good translations published.
If the recent stirring reception for
The Prison Diary of Ho Chi Minh (Aileen
Palmer, trans. , Bantam paperback) is any
indication, then readers have a real
desire to find out what the Vietnamese
have said, and are saying, about their
country. Of course it helps to start
with Uncle Ho, as the Vietnamese call
him, but it is worth remembering that
his Diary was available in Chinese and
Vietnamese for decades with nary a hint
of outside interest. Several diaries by
others, a few novels, scores of essays,
and hundreds of poems deserve equal
attention, and Ho Chi Minh would be the
first to encourage us on.
Meanwhile, there is plenty to be
said for Vietnamese speaking to us
directly in English. The Democratic
Republic of Vietnam and the Provisional
Revolutionary Government of South Viet
nam both publish regularly in English.
Although what they print may never get
the splash treatment of a Bantam paper
back, American university libraries in
the past few years have at least decided
that it is not treasonous to acquire
and shelve these materials. Others can
purchase titles from China Books and
Periodicals (2929 Twenty-fourth Street,
San Francisco, California 94110) or
can brave petty FBI harassment and obtain
them directly from DAZIMINA, 19 Hai
Ba Trung, Hanoi, Democratic Republic of
Viet-Nam.
One extremely valuable series comes
out under the general title of Vietnamese
Studies, with twenty-eight soft-bound
volumes to date. Some of the best vol
umes have treated: DRV developments in
education (Vol. 5) and public health
(Vol. 25); the epic poem Kim Van Kieu
(Vol. 4); the history of traditional
(Vol. 21) and modern (Vol. 24) Vietnam;
women's liberation (Vol. 10); and the role
of literary creation in the South Viet
namese liberation struggle (Vol. 14).
Even more accessible are the week
ly issues of Viet Nam Courier (VNe) ,
published by the DRV, and South Viet Nam
119
the opium trail
HEROIN and
IMPERIALISM
A 64-page oapsule history/pamphlet on the
story of opium and heroin in Amerioa and its
oonneotion to the war in Indoohina. Chapters
on "Addiotion in Amerioa" "Drug
ging the Ghetto" "Whi te Kids and
Junk" "The New Aoti on Army" "China:
The Foreign Mud" "SE Asia: The
Opium Trai l" "Kioking it: Methadone,
Therapy, or Revolution"
THE OPIUM TRAIL was the result of a
CCAS collective research-and-writing
project, including: Pat Haseltine,
Jerry Meldon, Charles Knight, Mark
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Jim Morrell, and Tod McKie.
Price: 2 5 ~
Order from: New England
Free Press, 791 Tremont
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phone 617/536-9219. Postage:
For orders, add the fol
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over $2. BULK ORDERS (for
re-sale): There is a
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list of available literature. Areas in
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NEW ENGLAND FREE PRESS
120
I
\
in Struggle (SVNIS), normally published
thrice monthly by the PRG. The following
bibliography, covering roughly the period
Feb ruary, 1970 to June, 1971, is meant
to make it easier on a topical basis
to find particularly good articles from
these two periodicals. I have generally
excluded week-to-week reporting here,
not because it is but
because it can be tracked down accord
ing to date by anyone familiar with events
as put forth in the Western press. I
have also stressed historical, literary
and cultural items to compensate for
the fact that Western writers, as men
tioned before, have long'ignored these
crucial aspects of Viet-Nam's existence
as a nation and a people.
I. Pre-colonial History and Culture
1. Pham Huy Thong, "The Archaeolog
ical Battle," VNC 20 Apr. 70. Impression
istic account of recent research efforts.
2. Chu Quang Tru, "The Vietnamese
Man through Ancient Plastic Arts," VNC
2 Nov. 70. Especially good portion on
pictures to be found in dinh (communal
houses) .
3. Mai Thi Tu, "The Temple of Litera
ture," VNC 11 Jan. 71. Discussion of
Confucian Van Mieu outs ide Hanoi.
4. "Le Huu Trac, alias Hai Thuong
Lan Ong," VNC 28 Dec. 70. Famous 18th
century physician and writer on med
icine.
5. Vu Dinh Lien, "Cao Ba Quat: Poet
and Revolutionary," VNC 22 Mar. 71. Life
and work of a major 19th century Viet
namese poet.
II. Anticolonial Activities (to 1954)
1. Phan Trong Binh, "Our First Politi
cal Seminar," VNC 9 Feb. 70. Reference
to August 1925 training sessions conduct
ed by Ho Chi Minh.
2. Nguyen Ai Quoc (Ho Chi Minh), "The
Revolutionary Path" (1926); "Appeal to
the Nation" (Feb. 1930); "Appeal from
Abroad" (1941); VNC 9 Feb. 70. Trans
lated excerpts.
3. Party Documents: 1930, 1951, 1960,
, VNC 2 Feb. 70.
4. Nguyen Thi Thap, "The Nam Ky
Uprising 30 Years Ago," VNC 23 Nov. 70.
November 1940 ferment in Co chinchina.
5. Vu Can, "Pilgrimage to the hamlet
of the Spring," VNC 17 May 71. Inter
esting and revealing vignette on Pac Bo
hamlet Cao Bang province, near where
Ho Chi Minh maintained a cave head
quarters in 1941-42.
6. Tran Huy Lieu, "Receiving Emperor
Bao Dai' s Sword and Seal SVNIS 20
Aug. 70. First-person narrative of Aug
ust 1945 in Hue, by the man who was
Viet Minh Minister of Information at
the time, and later foremost historian
of the DRV.
7. Cu Huy Can, "The Last Moments of a
Dynasty," VNC 7 Sep. 70. First-person
narrative of August 1945 in
8. Vo Nguyen Giap, "Those Unforgettable
Days," VNC 24 Aug. 70 and 31 Aug. 70.
Reminiscenses on August-September 1945,
by an internationally known participant.
9. Party Documents, "Appeal for General
Insurrection" and "Resolution of the
National Convention of the Indochinese
Communist Party," 14-15 August 1945,
VNC 24 Aug. 70.
10. "From August Revolution to Dien
Bien Phu Victory: Chronology of Events
(1945-1954) ," VNC 3 Aug. 70.
11. Nguyen Huu Tho, "First U.S. Set
backs in Viet-Nam," VNC 16 Mar. 70.
Well known NLF and PRG leader discusses
19 March 1960 demonstrations against
U. S. ships in Saigon harbor.
III. Anti-U.S. Resistance
A. Critiques of U.S. policy
1. Nguyen Xuan Lai; "u. S. Neo
colonialism in South Viet Nam: the Econ
omic Weapon," VNC 15 June 70.
2. "U. S. Neo-colonialism in South
Viet Nam: Repression, a Fundamental
Policy," VNC 29 June 70.
3. Huu Ngoc, "U. S. Neo-colonial
ism in South Viet Nam," VNC 6 July 70
and 13 July 70.
4. Nguyen Khac Vien, "Peace and
Independence," VNC 19 0 ct. 70 and 26
Oct. 70. Succinct, well-written attack
on Nixon's Indochina policy.
121
5. "Japanese Economic Designs in
Southeast Asia and Viet Nam," VNC 30
Nov. 70 and 7 Dec. 70.
6. Thanh Hong, "Helicopter and
Armour tactics foiled in all Indo
chinese battlefields," SVNIS 20 Mar. 71.
7. Nien Nguyen, "Seven economic
measures to serve the war efforts,"
SVNIS 10 May 71. Denunciation of
US/Saigon economic Vietnamization poli
cies.
B. Historical Events
1. "Socialist Construction and Anti
U.S. Resistance: Chronology of Events,
1954-1970," VNC 10 Aug. 70.
2. Mr. Thi (alias Cuu), "Tra Bong:
one of the first uprisings," VNC 15
Feb. 71. 1950 struggle by Cor minority
in Quang Ngai against Diem regime.
3. "The Radlay Rise Up," SVNIS
15 Feb. 70. Mbntagnard struggle.
4. "A Decade of Successful Strug
gle (1960-1970)," VNC 14 Dec. 70 and
21 Dec. 70. Chronology of South Viet
Nam resis tance.
5. Nguyen Thi Le, "In Blazing
Saigon," SVNIS 1 Feb. 70. Anti-tank
squad in District 6 during Tet '68
offensive.
6. Vu Duong, "The Girl Ammunition
Carrier from H u ~ , " SVNIS 1 Jan. 71.
Poem on Tet '68 offensive in H u ~ .
7. Ho Nguyen, "A Girl Student in
H u ~ , " SVNIS 20 Dec. 70. Pharmacy
student returns from Saigon to join
Tet '68 struggle.
8. "On the H u ~ Massacre of 1968,"
SVNIS 1 Nov. 70.
g. Le Van Hao, "Twenty Years Ago,"
VNC 16 Mar. 70. A well-known H u ~
University professor's transition to
participation in the NLF.
10. M.P., "For an Everlasting
Spring," SVNIS 20 Jan. 71. Five year
retrospective.
11. "1970 Chronology," VNC 1
Feb. 71. Day-by-day listing of events.
12. Nguyen Thi Dinh, "South Viet
namese Women's ten years of fruitful
fight," SVNIS 10 Mar. 71. The author,
a lady in her mid-forties, is deputy
commander-in-chief of the South Viet
Nam People's Liberation Forces.
13. "U.S.-Saigon Incursion in
Southern Laos," VNC 12 Apr. 71. Detailed
122
discussion of the entire February
March 1971 invasion and rout.
c. Poems and Short Stories
1. Giang Nam, "Crossing a Village
at Night," SVNIS 10 Feb. 71. Brief
narrative poem written in 1962.
2. To Huu, "Following in Uncle's
Footsteps," VNC 25 May 70. Reference
to Ho Chi Minh.
3. Ha Duong, "A Moving Story,"
SVNIS 20 July 70. Human interest,
on generational continuity of resist
ance.
4. To Nhuan Vy, "Stars," SVNIS 2
Sep. 70. Romance between two cadres
near Hue.
5. Giang Nam, "All the Nation off
to the Front," SVNIS 10 Sep. 70.
Short poem filled with North-South
imagery .
6. Ha Duong, "Ny fellow Girl Vil
lager," SVNIS 10 Dec. 70. Story of
local resistance in Da Nang area.
7. Nguyen Thi, IISpring," SVNIS
20 Apr. 71 and 1 Hay 71. Short
story on three young women guerillas
in Tet '68.
8. To Huu, "Welcome Spring '71,"
VNC 8 Feb. 71. Resume of contemporary
situation by Viet-Nam's most famous
living poet.
9. Nguyen Khoa Diem, "Sixteen
Years of Tears and Hopes," SVNIS 1
Feb. 71. A poem on continuity of resist
ance.
10. Vu Van Bao, "The Bamboo Valley,"
SVNIS 1 Apr. 71. Highland folk tales
in the midst of liberation struggle.
D. Topical
1. Pham Thanh Van, "Recollections
about the Tet '69 in Paris," SVNIS 1
Feb. 70. Cultural evening with overseas
Vietnamese community.
2. "Viet Nam's Fighting Women,"
SVNIS 1 Mar. 70. Entire issue devoted
to this subject.
3. "Two Attitudes," SVNIS 15 Har.
70. American doctor POW versus NLF
doctor regarding proper treatment of
U.S. paws.
4. "Saigon, Yesterday and Today,"
VNC 27 July 70.
5. Ly Phuong Lien, "To a U. S. Friend,"
SVNIS 2 Sep. 70. Letter to a lady with 1. "Women's present Rights and St at us
a son, who someday will visit Vietnam in DRVN," VNC 2 Mar. 70. Includes per
in peace. centages of women in various jobs and
6. Tam Duong, "u Minh, Steel Ram
part of the Brass Wall," SVNIS 20
Nov. 70. Brief description of furthest
south resistance area.
7. Editors, "The Urban University
Youth in South Viet Nam is Indomitable,"
SVNIS 10 Jan. 71. Several other articles
in this issue on same subject.
8. Phong Hien, "Saigon literary life,"
VNC 19 Apr. 71. Critique of nihilistic
and erotic tendencies.
I
9. Tran Thanh, "The people from Ho
village," SVNIS 20 May 71. Village in
Long An province to the south of
Saigon named after Ho Chi Minh.
10. Truong Dinh Hung, "Story of an
I
Air Force hero," VNC 7 June 71. Inter
view with a 35 year-old squadron leader,
credited with downing six American jets.
11. Tam Duong, "The wonderful
'Suong ba la' ," SVNIS 15 June 71.
Brief introduction to the infinite uses
of the small Vietnamese sampan.
12. Minh Phuong, "A Village Head
woman," SVNIS 1 June 71. Interview with
PRG chairwoman in P.T. village, Thua
Thien province.
IV. Life in the Democratic Republic of.
Viet-Nam
A. Science and Technology
1. "Initial Development of Biologic
Sciences," VNC 18 Jan. 71.
2. "A Nascent Science-Geology,"
VNC 15 Mar. 71. Emphasis on prospect
ing, mapmaking, and postwar development.
3. Nguyen Khanh Toan, "Social Sciences
in Viet Nam," VNC 9 Nov. 70 and 16 Nov.
70. Very informative resume.
,
4. "Development of Libraries," VNC
19 Oct. 70. Facts on library expansion
in DRV.
I
5. Phan Cuong, "New transplanting
technique: a far-reaching improvement,"
VNC 5 Apr. 71. Labor-saving and increased
yields through scientific experimentation.
6. Vu Can, "With Hanoi Pediatricians,"
I
VNC 31 May 71.
;
B. Administration and Economics
I
job levels.
2. Duong Cong Hoat, "National
Minorities heading towards Socialism,"
VNC 10 May 71. Includes population
I
figures for various mountain regions.
J
3. Vu Can, "Ten Peoples in the same
School," VNC 10 May 71. Describes Tay
Bac Autonomous Zone training school
for ethnic minority elementary school
teachers.
4. Nguyen Xuan Lai, "Stages and
Problems of Industrialization," VNC
23 Nov. 70 and 30 Nov. 70.
5. Nguyen Khac Vien, "Renovation of
Agriculture," VNC 21 Sep. 70.
6. Nguyen Yem, "Hanoi's Market gar
dening," VNe 19 Apr. 71. Vegetable
crops for the capital.
7. "Thai Thuy Bamboo," VNC 3
May 71. Encouraging handicraft produc
tion in Thai Binh province.
8. Minh Hoang, "Industry harnessed
to Agriculture," VNC 17 May 71. Illus
trates the continuing priority attention
given to agricultural production.
9. Vu Quy Vy, "The Food Plant and
Vegetable Institute," VNC 21 June 71.
Agronomy research.
I
I
C. Village-Level Activities
1. Vu Can, "A School-Cooperative
in Hoa Binh," VNC 29 June 70. Highland
minority educational venture.
2. Nguyen Khac Vien, "The Old
I
Banyan," VNC 31 Aug. 70. Sensitive story
of an old and new village life.
3. Pham Cuong, "A Short History of
a Village," VNC 7 Dec. 70 and 14 Dec.
70. Nam Hong village, north of Hanoi.
4. Vu Can, "A Village Health Ser
vice," VNC 4 Jan. 71. Cam Binh village,
Ha Tinh province.
5. Chu Tan, "Gifts for Tet," VNC
25 Jan. 71. Short story about diligent
but human coop leader.
6. Tran Minh Tan, "As a Party mem
ber ," VNC 8 Feb. 71. Female coop
cadre, working especially to raise
better hogs.
7. Nguyen Yem, "The Co Bi Supply
and Marketing Cooperative," VNC 15
Feb. 71. Services three agricultural
coops for local and regional trade.
123
8. Vu Can, "Phu Nhung, the first Meo
village in low-lying land," VNC 22
Feb. 71. Movement to settle semi
nomadic mountain people of DRV.
9. Phuong Anh, "Together with Ba
Trai Women," VNC 8 Har. 71. Villagers
of the Muong ethnic minority.
D. Art and Culture
1. "The Vietnamese Theatre,"
VNC 25 May 70.
2. Hai Vi, "The Evolution of Viet
namese Theatre," VNC 31 Aug. 70.
3. Phan Trong Quang, "A Cinema buH t
in the crucible of two Resistance Wars,"
VNC 7 Sep. 70.
4. "A New Look on Life," VNC 28 Dec.
70. Painting in the DRV.
5. "Singing and Dancing in War
Time," VNC 1 Mar. 71. Description of
artists and music of 1970 Festival.
6. Truc Quynh, "Stage Reminiscences,"
VNC 24 May 71. Warm, first-person ac
count of twenty-five years as an actress
in the DRV.
V. Contact with Socialist Countries
1. Huynh Van Ly, "In the Footsteps of
Lenin," SVNIS 10 Apr. 70. Personal ac
count of feelings toward Lenin and
Russian people.
2. Special Issue on Lenin, VNC 13
Apr. 70. Includes listing of Lenin's
works pub lished in DRV and Ho Chi
Minh interview on this subject in
July 1969.
3. Phan Huu, "China, Fighting Viet
Nam's Great Rear Base," SVNIS 1 Nov.
70.
VI. Events in Laos and Cambodia
1. "Facts and Events in Laos from 1962
to 1970," VNC 20 July 70.
2. Huu Tho, " On River Banks and }foun
tain Tops," VNC 4 Jan. 71. Excerpts from
Vietnamese journalist's diary of trip
to Laos liberated areas.
3. "Angkor, A Witness and a Symbol,"
VNC 25 May 70.
4. "Kasang Responds .. ," VNC 1 June
70. Cambodian village in March up
heaval.
5. "A Puppet officer's diary found at
the foot of a rubber tree in Cambodia,"
VNC 21 Sep. 70. Excerpts from Saigon
officer's diary.
6. Chann Luon, "A New Life at Phum
Tho Muong," SVNIS 10 Nov. 70. Cambodia
reporter's account of anti-Lon Nol
activities at village level.
7. Editors, "Lam Son 719 Operatiom,"
SVNIS 10 Apr. 71. This entire issue
reviews the failure of the U.S./Saigon
invasion of Southern Laos.
8. Kham Thanh, "In a Southern Laos
Liberated Area," VNC 31 May 71.
medical for Indochina----1
The President is bringing US soldiers
home from Indochina. But the United
States Airforce, the bombers, the heli
copters, and the air support troops,
remain to wage war as fiercely as ever.
The Nixon Administration is reducing
casualties to politically "tolerable"
levels, while continuing to pursue a
military victory in Indochina. But
nothing has changed for the people of
Southeast Asia on whom the high explo
sive bombs, the napalm, and the anti
personnel weapons continue to fall.
For the first an American organi
zation has been formed to send medical
aid to the victims of us intervention
in Indochina. Funds are now being col
lected to buy 1. medical supplies--anti
malarial
etc. 2. medical as requested
by medical textbooks
and journals for North Vietnam and for
the liberated zones of South
I Laos, and Cambodia. We need your help.
IPlease send donations and enquiries to:
I
I
MEDICAL AID COMMITTEE FOR INDOCHINA
I
i
474 Centre St reet
Newton, Mass. 02158
[*Medical Aid for Indochina, Inc. consist
of concerned physicians, healthcare work
ers, and other groups and individuals.]
124
I
I
COMMITTEE OF CONCERNED ASIAN SCHOLARS LOCAL OFFICES OR CONTACT PEOPLE
ANTIOCH: Marilyn McCullagh, History Dept., Antioch College, Yellow Springs, OH 45387
ARIZONA: Quinton Priest, 734 N. Sixth ave., Tucson, AZ 85721
AUSTRALIA/N.Z.: CASAN Secretariat, 1/6 MOorehouse St., O'Connor, ACT 2601 Australia
BERKELEY: CCAS, 2168 Shattuck #316, Berkeley, CA 94704
BOSTON: Boston CCAS, 146 Sixth ST. , Cambridge, MA 02139
CHICAGO: John Berthrong, 5757 University Ave., Chicago, IL 60637
COLUMBIA: Frank Baldwin, 906 Int'l Affairs, Columbia U, New York, N.Y. 10027
CONNECTICUT: Herman Mast, History Dept, U Conn. , Storrs, CT 06268
CORNELL: George Hildebrand, 914 Highland Rd., Ithaca, N.Y. 14850
DARTMOUTH: Jonathan Mirsky, East Asian Center, Dartmouth College, Hanover, NH 03755
DUKE: Alan Tharpe, 212 Northwood Circle, Durham, NC 27701
DRURY: Katsu and John Young, 635 E. Calhoun #104, Springfield, MO 65802
FRANCE: Annick Levy, Centre de Documentation, 43 rue Cuvier, Paris 5e, France
GERMANY: Gerion Sievernich, Ostasiatisches Seminar, 1 Berlin 33, Podbielskiallee 42
HAWAII: Oliver Lee, Political Science Dpt, UH, Honolulu, HI 96822
HONG KONG: Ric Pfeffer, Universities Service Center, 155 Argyle St, Hong Kong
INDIANA: Philip West, History Dept, IU, Bloomington, IN 47401
INDIANA STATE: Jordan Paper, History Dept, ISU, Terre Haute, In 47809
ITALY: Tiziano Terzani, Istitute di storia contempore, Via San Gallo 10, Firenze
KANSAS: Norman Hastings, RD 3, Box 10, Lawrence, KS 66044
LONDON: Stephan Feuchtwang, c/o AREAS, 22 Chepstow Crescent, London Wll
MICHIGAN: CCAS, 104 Lane Hall, Univ. of Michigan, Ann Arbor, MI 48104
MINNESOTA: Ted Farmer, History Dept, UMN, Minneapolis, MN 55455
MONTREAL: S.J. Noumoff, East Asian Centre, 1005 Sherbrooke W,
MACALESTER: Jerry Fisher, History Dept., Macalester College, St. Paul, MN 55101
NO. ILLINOIS U.: Russ Smith, 3129 Lincolnshire, DeKalb, IL 60115
OAKLAND U: Richard Tucker, History Dept, Oakland U, Rochester, MI 48063
OREGON: Joe Esherick, History Dept, U of Oregon, Eugene, OR 97403
PRINCETON: Michael McGrath, East Asian Studies, Princeton U, Princeton, N.J. 08540
SANTA BARBARA: Colin R. Tong, Box 12510 UCSB, Sta. Barbara, CA 93107
ST. LOUIS: Dave Wilson, 4371 Westminster, St. Louis, MO 63130
STANFORD: CASS, Bldg. 600T, Stanford, CA 94305
SO. ILLINOIS U: Doug Allen, Philosophy Dept, SIU, Carbondale, IL 62901
TEXAS: Gordon Bennett, Government Dept, UT, Austin, TX 78712
TORONTO: Janet Salaff, Sociology Dept, 563 Spadina Ave, Toronto 179, Ont.
TOKYO: Doug Sparks, c/o I. Sugita, 3-34-9 Kita-Senzoku, Ota-ku, Tokyo 145
WINDSOR: David Wurfel, Pol. Sce. Dept, U of Windsor, Windsor, Ontario, Canada
WISCONSIN: Edward Friedman, Pol. Sce. Dept, U of Wisconsin, Madison, WI 53706
YALE: Larry Lifschultz, 173 1/2 Mansfield St, New Haven, CT 06511
U PACIFIC: Jere Chapman, 1228 Fitch Way, Sacramento, CA 95825
U WASHINGTON: CCAS, 419 Thompson Hall, U of Wash, Seattle, WA 98185
C.C.A.S. National Coordinators: Cindy Fredrick [Boston], Sandy Sturdevant [Chicago]
Molly Coye [Stanford]--all will change at the CCAS meeting in New York in March.
125
l
I
I
!
I
f
I
CODIDIaDicalioDS
November 19, 1971
To the Editor:
Recent history recalls a long-
past experience of my own. I was a rif
le platoon leader in the 1st Marine
Divis ion during the Okinawa campaign
and then during the first four months
of the occupation of North China.
Let me first concede my bias. I'm
sure there's nothing quite as interest
ing to me as my own experiences (and
very possibly nothing as boring to every
one else), particularly since these in
cidents were watershed experiences for
me that changed the patterns of my life
in somewhat the same way as dropping
"the bomb" changed Eatherly's.
I was, as I say, 3rd Platoon Leader,
"K" Company, 3rd Bat tal ion ,7th Marines,
1st Marine Division. We landed at
Taku Bar, as I recall, September 22,
1945, and proceeded inland to Tientsin.
En route from Okinawa we had received
written orders detailing our mission
which included disarming the Japanese
and working, in that connection, with
the Chinese Nationalist Army and the
"Troops for the Preservation of Peace,
Order and Prosperity in the Greater East
Asian Co-prosperity Sphere" - the pup
pets.
After a few days in Tientsin we
moved on to Tangshan and took over the
specific mission of protecting both
the rail line north to Mukden and Har
bin and the Kailan Mining Association
coal mines.
It quickly developed there was more.
In addition to working with the Chinese
Nationalists and the puppets, new verbal
126
orders called not for disarming but for
exercising the closest cooperation with
the Japanese. I was present when a pri
vate telephone line was installed be
tween 3rd Battalion Headquarters and the
Japanese "prisoner compound." This "com
pound" was "guarded" by a single Marine
sentry and the Japanese kept their wea
pons - undoubtedly the most bizarre
prisoner arrangement of recent memory.
There was a clear understanding that
if we got into trouble (with the Commun
ists, who else?) they would help us and
vice versa. Along about this time there
was a big surrender ceremony in Tien
tsin. The Japanese stacked their rifles
and the officers, with flourish, pomp
and ceremony, drew their swords and
threw them on a pile. Later, toward
evening and after the newsreel camera
men had gone home, the men picked up
their rifles and the officers their
swords and returned to duty.
I was involved personally in one
incident, highly traumatic to me in
retrospect, and less personally in a
second incident. The first took place
between Han Ku and Pei Tang. The key
mission of our battalion was to pro
tect the rail line - over which Chiang
was rushing troops to take over from
the Russians in Manchuria. Obviously,
the danger spots were the bridges and
there were three in our battalion area.
Each rifle company took responsibility
for one of these bridges and rotated
rifle platoons in their guard.
One day in November (I don't know
exactly which) we left Tangshan for
bridge duty via the railroad, proceeding
southwesterly in the direction of Tien
tsin. The "L" company platoon got off
at its bridge in Lu Tai, my platoon got
off at our bridge in Han Ku, and the "I"
company platoon continued on toward Pei
Tang.
Perhaps a mile further on there was
an explosion and the train was derailed,
North China being as flat as it is, we
could see the entire show quite clearly
although we were out of walkie-talkie
range. I commandeered a train, piled
aboard with two squads of the platoon and
hurried down.
We found that nobody had been hurt
but the locomotive was derailed. A few
minutes after we arrived the puppet troops
showed up and close behind them the Japan
ese materialized out of somewhere. While
we could not speak each other's language
the Japanese officer made plain the way
things like this were handled. Conse
quently, we drew ourselves up on the rail
way embankment -- our platoon and the "I"
company platoon in the middle, Japanese
on the left and puppets on the right.
There was a mud-hut village less than
one hundred yards away (I never knew the
name if indeed it had one) and for perhaps
ten or twelve long minutes we fired rifles
and machine guns into that village. Nobody
checked casualties or damage but we had
made plain who was in charge.
The second incident involved our
battalion Headquarters Company. General
Peck of the 1st Marine Division was riding
a train in our own area when an explosion
and derailment took place. He called for
an air strike on the nearest village, but
when there was some difficulty about this
he called out our 81 millimeter mortar
platoon and delivered a 60-round pattern.
When we arrived in Tientsin on September
22, an estimated million Chinese welcomed
us as comrades-in-arms. In the four-month
period before I left (reassignment was
handled individually on the basis of
"points"), Marines had become so hated
that strict orders called for them to
leave post areas in groups no smaller than
three.
Why am I writing this letter? What do
I want from you? Given the bias I spoke
about earlier, I'm convinced that in
cidents like these (and I'm sure there
must have been hundreds of them) are
t
important enough to be publicized. They
give a vital additional dimension to .
"the American Experience in Otina," which j
I have never seen reported.
Very truly yours,
Edward J. Bloch
(Mr. Bloch is the International Repre
sentative of the United Electrical, Radio
and Communications Workers Union.)
November 19, 1971
To the editor:
When I offer 6 pages of comment in
your last issue and inspire 52 pages of
rejoinder, I am uncertain whether to feel
richly rewarded or, on the other hand,
overkilled.
Two general questions come to mind:
1) Don't establishments emerge in most
nations, societies, or social groups? Can
they really be eliminated or avoided? Isn't
the real test whether they are
to the needs of the time and whether they
succeed in recruiting talent, maximizing
mobility, and doing jobs that need doing?
Naturally, their performance can usually
be criticized. Certainly it should be
scrutinized.
2) Shouldn't 75 pages of the Bulletin
produce something more than criticism ,'of
past efforts at organization? The future
will probably fault us for having done
too little too late. Now is the time for
new efforts, new forms of organization by
a new generation for new purposes. The
question whether or not Otinese studies
in the U.S.A. are subordinated to the U.S.
Government can be checked by each reader
of the Bulletin for himself. I for one
am not convinced that they are. I still
think our main needs are less organiza
tional than intellectual, to understand
ourselves better and to understand the
Chinese better and all try to live in
peace. The Bulletin can be of real help to
us and should be used as constructively
as possible.
Sincerely,
John K. Fairbank
127
Conl..ibalo...
Eqbal Ahmad is a Fellow of the Adlai Stevenson Institute in Chicago. He is presently
on trial, along with Philip Berrigan and six others, for allegedly conspiring to
interfere with the Selective Service System, and for various other offenses connected
with his opposition to the war in Indochina. Eqba1 Ahmad has contributed to many maga
zines and anthologies and is an editor of Africasia and of Pakistan Forum. His Revo
lution and Reaction in the Third World will be published by Pantheon in 1972. He is
presently editing a book on the Pakistan crisis for Harper and Row.
Saghir Ahmad was a sociologist and anthropologist at Simon Fraser University in British,
Columbia until his recent death, and published a number of articles on West Pakistani
sociology. His book, Class and Power in a Punjabi Village, and his collected essays
on Asian decolonization are being edited for publication.
Feroz Ahmed teaches sociology at Algoma College, Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario, and edits
Pakistan Forum. He is co-author with Eqbal Ahmad and others of East Bengal: Roots of
the Genocide, Glad Day Press, Ithaca, N.Y. 14850, 1971.
Father Daniel BerPigan is a Catholic priest, poet, author, and militant anti-war
activist. He is currently in jail in Springfield, Missouri, for destroying U.S. Army
draft records with napalm in protest against the war in Indochina in the Baltimore
suburb of Catonsville. Daniel Berrigan is the author of No Bars to Manhood, Bantam
Books, 1971, and, along with Philip Berrigan, is the subject of The Berrigans, edited
by William VanEtten Casey, S.J., and Philip Nobile, Avon Books, 1971.
is a free lance journalist in Madras, and a frequent contributor
to The Radical Review, 8 Madnava1li Street, Madras 28, India.
Kathleen Gough is a research scholar at the Institute of Asian and Slavonic Studies,
University of British Columbia. She has contributed to many journals and books on
Indian sociology and is a co-author with David Schneider of Matrilineal Kinship,
University of California Press, 1961. With Hari Sharma she is editing Imperialism
and Revolution in South Asia, to be published by M:mth1y Review Press in 1972.
MOhan Ram is a free lance journalist in New Delhi and was a university professor until
1961. He is the author of Indian Communism: Split Within Split (1969) . and Maoism
India (1971) both published by Vikas Publications, Delhi, India.
Ed0aPd FPiedman teaches in the political science department at the University of
Wisconsin and is co-editor with Mark Selden of America's Asia.
David MaPr teaches at Cornell and is currently managing the Indochina Resource Center
in Washington, D.C.
DeCamp, presently at the University of Washington, spent last year in Japan
at various GI organizing projects.
Contributors to the last issue, Summer-Fall 1971, included: Chung-wu Kung is a gradu
ate student in Chinese history at Harvard. WilUam Pomeroy fought with the Hukbalahap
until his capture in the late 1940s. He is the author of The Forest. Ben Kerkvliet
is in the political science department at the University of Hawaii. John K.
is professor of history at Harvard and is the author of The United States and China
and many other books and articles. Moss Roberts is professor o'f Chinese at New YOI'lk
University and has headed the research efforts into the modern China field begun by
CCAS. David HoPOWitz is editor of Ramparts and author of Empire and Revolution I
and Scholars and U. S. Intelligence" [Ramparts, February 1972]. '
I
128

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