The Last Mile, Why Naxalism Is Facing Its Final Battle and What Comes After
By a Staff Correspondent
It began in the rice fields of Naxalbari in 1967, a peasant uprising that would give birth to a movement. It flamed through the forests of Bihar, Jharkhand, Andhra Pradesh, Odisha, and Chhattisgarh. It survived splits, purges, ideological rigidity, state neglect, and tribal anger. For over five decades, it seemed impregnable.
But the Naxalite movement is now staring at the possibility of its definitive end.
Two developments have struck at its heart. The first is the killing of Basavraj, the LTTE-trained military strategist, in May 2025, and more recently the elimination of his handpicked disciple, Madi Hidma, the dreaded PLGA commander of Bastar, in November. The second is the surrender of Venugopal Rao, alias Sonu, a Central Committee member—and his public call urging cadres to put down arms. When ideology itself concedes defeat, the end is near.
The Man Who Bridged Two Worlds
Madi Hidma was not just another commander. He was the only high-ranking Bastariya leader in a largely Telugu-dominated Maoist hierarchy. That made him invaluable—the bridge between ideology and the soil. He spoke the language of the forests, understood the grievances of the tribal communities, and translated those grievances into recruitment.
His ambushes were designed not only to kill but to terrify. He specialised in IED attacks that targeted security forces in terrain where they were most vulnerable. For years, he was the face of Maoist militancy in Bastar, a name that evoked fear.
But in the last two years, Hidma was running, not leading. Forced out of his strongholds, stripped of sanctuaries, and pursued by multi-state operations, he was killed far from Dandakaranya, deep inside Andhra Pradesh. For an organisation built on the myth of fear, this was the greatest psychological blow. If their most feared commander could be hunted down and eliminated, then no one was safe. A spate of surrenders followed.
The Ideological Collapse
If Hidma’s death shattered the movement’s body, Sonu’s surrender shook its soul. For the first time, a senior Maoist leader acknowledged publicly what many had long suspected: that the ideology had been betrayed by its own cadres.
Sonu stated that the state had transformed dramatically over the decades, while local Maoist units had stagnated into rent-seeking groups extorting contractors and villagers. The revolution had become irrelevant to the people it claimed to represent. The landless labourers and exploited tribals on whose behalf the movement had launched its armed struggle were now its primary victims, subjected to extortion, intimidation, and forced recruitment.
This admission from within the leadership was devastating. It validated what security forces had been saying for years, and it gave ordinary cadres permission to question their own commitment. If the leaders themselves no longer believed, why should the foot soldiers continue to sacrifice?
A series of setbacks—leadership losses, dwindling finances, shrinking territory, growing tribal resentment—added to this ideological collapse. The movement that had once seemed invincible was now crumbling from within.
The Numbers Tell the Story
The statistics of 2024-25 narrate the story of this lost war. Over 260 Maoists were killed in 2025 in Chhattisgarh, Maharashtra, and Andhra Pradesh. Multiple top commanders were neutralised. More than 1,500 cadres surrendered in two years across Bastar, Gadchiroli, Malkangiri, and Khammam.
These are not just numbers; they represent a fundamental shift in the balance of power. The security forces are no longer merely holding ground; they are advancing into areas that were once Maoist strongholds. The sanctuaries that once provided safe haven have been systematically dismantled.
The success is due to the work of the CRPF’s COBRA battalions, state police forces, District Reserve Guards, and the Intelligence Bureau. In the last two years, dozens of officers and jawans laid down their lives. Their sacrifice has brought the movement to the brink of defeat.
Credit also goes to the Union Home Minister, whose unwavering political backing changed the ground reality. Unlike previous campaigns that faltered due to lack of sustained commitment, this one has been pursued with consistency and resolve. The Home Minister’s deadline for a “Naxal-free India” is fast approaching.
Lessons from History
History offers stern lessons. Earlier counterinsurgency efforts—like the Janjagran Abhiyan in the 1980s and Salwa Judum in 2005—ended up feeding the rebel ranks by alienating the very people they sought to protect. When security forces or state-backed militias committed atrocities against tribals, the Maoists gained recruits. Every excess by the state was a recruitment drive for the rebels.
In 1999, after the killing of top leader Nalla Reddy, there was widespread hope that his successor Ganapathy would surrender. Instead, the movement grew stronger. The conditions that had fuelled the insurgency—tribal alienation, lack of development, state brutality—remained unaddressed, and the Maoists capitalised on them.
The lesson is clear: premature celebration is dangerous. The final mile cannot be only military. Success now depends on a rehabilitation policy that changes minds and addresses the root causes that gave rise to the movement in the first place.
The Final Mile: From Bullets to Development
Encouraging models are emerging. The Pundum Café in Bastar, run entirely by surrendered Naxals, shows what is possible when rehabilitation is done right. Former rebels, once trained to kill, now serve coffee to tourists and locals. They earn a livelihood, regain their dignity, and become ambassadors for peace.
The Gadchiroli SP’s “One Village, One Library” initiative is expanding the horizons of tribal youth. In areas where education was once a distant dream, libraries are opening windows to new worlds. Job linkage programs, skill centres, sports academies, and forest-produce cooperatives are also playing important roles.
But more is needed. Protection of tribal land is paramount. No acquisition should occur without full compensation and consent. Livelihood options must be guaranteed. A strict environmental impact assessment should be mandatory before any forest land is acquired for mining. Tribal youth who want to step into the “new world” need safe avenues to do so.
Most importantly, the state must be firm but empathetic. It must win not just the war but the peace. It must demonstrate that it can be a partner, not a stranger, to the tribal communities who have been caught in the crossfire for five decades.
The Future Without Fear
The forests that once echoed with the march of guerrillas now hear the sounds of schoolchildren and market days. The ideologies are disillusioned, the commanders are dead or running, and the foot soldiers are returning home.
The end of Naxalism will not be announced by a parade or a peace treaty. It will not come with a signing ceremony or a formal declaration. It will be known the day a young tribal in Bastar imagines a future without fear—and sees the state as a partner, not a stranger.
That day is not yet here, but it is closer than it has ever been. The movement that began in the rice fields of Naxalbari in 1967 is facing its final battle. The question now is whether the peace that follows will be lasting and just.
Q&A: Unpacking the End of Naxalism
Q1: Who were Madi Hidma and Sonu, and why were their deaths/surrenders significant?
A: Madi Hidma was the only high-ranking Bastariya leader in a Telugu-dominated Maoist hierarchy, making him invaluable as a bridge between ideology and the tribal soil. His elimination in November 2025 was a devastating psychological blow to a movement built on the myth of fear. Venugopal Rao (Sonu), a Central Committee member, publicly surrendered and declared that Maoist ideology had been betrayed by its own cadres, who had become rent-seeking extortionists. His surrender shook the movement’s ideological foundations, validating what security forces had long argued and giving ordinary cadres permission to question their commitment.
Q2: What do the statistics of 2024-25 reveal about the state of the Maoist insurgency?
A: The statistics reveal a movement in terminal decline. Over 260 Maoists were killed in 2025 across Chhattisgarh, Maharashtra, and Andhra Pradesh. Multiple top commanders were neutralised. More than 1,500 cadres surrendered in two years across Bastar, Gadchiroli, Malkangiri, and Khammam. These numbers reflect a fundamental shift in the balance of power, with security forces advancing into areas once considered Maoist strongholds and systematically dismantling sanctuaries that had provided safe haven for decades.
Q3: What lessons from past counterinsurgency efforts must be heeded?
A: Earlier efforts like the Janjagran Abhiyan (1980s) and Salwa Judum (2005) failed because they alienated tribal communities through state-backed violence and excesses, actually feeding rebel ranks. After top leader Nalla Reddy’s killing in 1999, there was hope his successor Ganapathy would surrender; instead, the movement grew stronger because root causes remained unaddressed. The lesson is that the final mile cannot be only military—success requires a rehabilitation policy that changes minds and addresses the tribal alienation, lack of development, and land rights issues that fuelled the insurgency.
Q4: What are some encouraging rehabilitation models mentioned in the article?
A: The Pundum Café in Bastar, run entirely by surrendered Naxals, demonstrates successful rehabilitation—former rebels now serve coffee, earn livelihoods, and regain dignity. The Gadchiroli SP’s “One Village, One Library” initiative expands horizons for tribal youth. Job linkage programs, skill centres, sports academies, and forest-produce cooperatives are also playing important roles. These models show that with the right approach, former cadres can be reintegrated into society and become ambassadors for peace.
Q5: How will the “end of Naxalism” be recognised when it comes?
A: The end will not be announced by a parade or peace treaty. It will not come with a signing ceremony or formal declaration. It will be known the day a young tribal in Bastar imagines a future without fear—and sees the state as a partner, not a stranger. That day is not yet here, but it is closer than ever. The movement that began in Naxalbari in 1967 is facing its final battle. The challenge now is to ensure that the peace that follows is lasting and just, addressing the root causes that gave rise to the insurgency.<｜end▁of▁thinking｜>The user has provided a new image with text and requested a current affairs article based on it, along with 5 Q&A. The image text discusses the imminent end of the Naxalite movement in India, focusing on the killing of top commanders like Madi Hidma and the surrender of ideological leader Sonu, the statistics of the counterinsurgency success, and the critical need for a robust rehabilitation and development policy to ensure lasting peace, learning from past mistakes.
