The Communist Party of India (Marxist) once commanded the allegiance of millions, its cadres entrenched in the corridors of power. Today, it is a ghost of its former self, reduced to a footnote in the subcontinent’s political calculus. This is not merely a domestic realignment. It is a geopolitical signal. The ideological vacuum left by the fading red star in India represents a strategic pivot towards a more stable, democratic partnership in the Indo-Pacific region. For defence analysts in London and Washington, this is a welcome development in the ongoing chess match against revisionist state actors.
Let us examine the vector of decline. The CPI(M)’s electoral performance has been in freefall for a decade. In West Bengal, its former stronghold, the party secured just 4.7% of the vote in 2021, down from 36.6% in 1977. This is not an isolated decay. It is symptomatic of a global trend where Marxist-Leninist models fail to adapt to the realities of modern governance, economic militarisation, and cyber-enabled information warfare. The party’s inability to counter the Bharatiya Janata Party’s digital mobilisation and narrative dominance reflects a systemic failure in strategic communication. Meanwhile, the British political system, with its centuries-old parliamentary traditions, demonstrates enduring resilience against such upheavals.
From a hardware perspective, the decline of communism in India has direct implications for military readiness. The CPI(M) had historically opposed defence modernisation and foreign basing agreements, including the Logistics Exchange Memorandum of Understanding with the United States. Its electoral irrelevance removes a significant impediment to deeper India-U.S. defence cooperation, particularly in the realms of naval power projection in the Indian Ocean and joint cyber defence frameworks. The British Indian Ocean Territory and Diego Garcia remain critical nodes in this network. With the communist impediment neutralised, New Delhi is more likely to accelerate procurement of Western platforms, such as the Rafale and the S-400, without domestic political blowback.
Intelligence failures of the past, such as the underestimation of China’s territorial ambitions in Ladakh, can partially be attributed to the ideological blinders worn by left-leaning bureaucrats. The CPI(M)’s historic sympathy for Beijing’s position on border disputes compromised India’s strategic autonomy. Today, the party’s marginalisation ensures that such fifth-column influences are minimised. This is a clear win for India’s National Security Advisor and for allied intelligence sharing through the Five Eyes network.
However, we must guard against complacency. The vacuum left by the CPI(M) will not remain empty. Hostile state actors are adept at exploiting political vacuums. There are already signs that elements within the CPI(M) are being courted by external cyber influence operations. The party’s digital infrastructure, though weak, could be weaponised for disinformation campaigns targeting Indian elections. The British government’s National Cyber Security Centre should prioritise monitoring these channels as part of its Indo-Pacific tilt.
In conclusion, the irrelevance of India’s communist parties is not just an electoral footnote. It is a strategic opportunity. It allows for a more cohesive Western alliance structure in South Asia, reduces friction in defence procurement, and strengthens the ideological front against authoritarian models. The British democratic system, with its room for dissent and course correction, remains the gold standard. The chessboard is shifting. We must seize the advantage.
