In the remote forests of Bastar, a district in central India’s state of Chhattisgarh, the air no longer carries the acrid scent of gunpowder. Instead, the sweet, heady fragrance of Mahua flowers drifts through villages once trapped in the grip of left-wing extremism.
Bastar is famous not only for its forests and diverse tribal groups, but for the Maoist insurgency, functioning for decades as the epicenter of their conflict against Indian security forces. Bastar has been considered a prominent stronghold of the People’s Liberation Guerrilla Army (PLGA), an armed wing of the Communist Party of India (Maoist), a banned political organization in India, since early 2000s. Inspired by Chinese communist leader Mao Zedong, the rebels advocate for class struggle and agrarian revolution through armed resistance.
What was long touted as the Maoists’ ‘Red Corridor’ – a vast stretch of ‘liberated zones’ from southern India toward Nepal – has now been dismantled. Sustained operations by India’s security forces, particularly since 2024, have significantly weakened the presence of Maoists, also known in the region as ‘Naxalites’ or ‘Naxals’ after the 1967 uprising in Naxalbari village in West Bengal state.
After more than four decades of insurgency, roads, electricity, schools, and governance are steadily reclaiming territory that the state had lost to armed rebels.
Speaking in parliament on March 30, Indian Home Minister Amit Shah said that the left-wing extremists and their supporters had presented a false narrative before innocent tribal people that they were fighting for their rights and to deliver justice to them. He said that Naxalism has now been “almost completely eradicated from Bastar,” and a campaign has begun to build schools and open ration shops in every village there, calling it one of the key achievements of Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s government.
Peace returns
In Puwarti village, birthplace of the notorious Maoist commander Madvi Hidma linked to the deaths of hundreds of security personnel and civilians – a security forces camp now stands where arms training for his battalion once took place. Children play near a newly built Anganwadi child-care center.
Scenes of women picking Mahua flowers without fear, no longer forced to surrender part of their earnings as a “levy” to the insurgents, are now common here. Security personnel, once symbols of dread, now hand out pens, cricket bats, and biscuits to children, and grocery kits to elders – small gestures aimed at rebuilding trust after years of conflict.
Hidma’s deputy, Barse Deva, surrendered in early 2026, and his battalion has largely disintegrated through encounters, surrenders, and dispersal. Similar change is visible in Gougunda, a former Maoist bastion perched on a 660-meter-high cliff surrounded by dense forest. For the first time in living memory, electricity has reached the village. Residents who once lived by the sun’s rhythm now stay up late studying, working, or socializing.
Gangi Muchaki, who opened Gougunda’s first grocery shop with government help, beams under the glow of a solitary LED bulb: “This feels surreal! I still cannot believe that we have electricity, a motorable road and a ‘kirana’ (grocery) shop in our village. The night of red terror is over; this is a new dawn.”
End of Isolation
Maoists had deliberately banned constructing roads or installing electricity poles, as well as telecom towers, to maintain control of these areas through isolation. Today, the Border Roads Organization, an agency under the Ministry of Defence of India developing and maintaining road networks in India’s border regions and remote areas, is cutting all-weather roads through the forests. These road link remote districts in Chhattisgarh toward the southern city of Hyderabad. Arterial roads closed for 15-30 years due to frequent ambushes have now reopened.
Abujhmarh – the rugged, mysterious hilly terrain spanning over 4,000 square kilometers, larger than the entire state of Goa, a popular spot among foreign tourists, used to be a safe haven for top Maoist leaders for a long time. For the past few years, security camps have been established deep inside.
Displaced villagers are returning home. In Baleveda village, falling under Narayanpur district, a Border Security Force (BSF) camp now occupies the site where Maoists once held their so-called kangaroo courts and carried out executions.
Ramulal Wadde, a Madia tribesman who lived in exile for 20 years in a slum, has returned as the new sarpanch, an elected head of a village-level self-government, along with about 20 other families. They are now rebuilding homes that fell into disrepair during their absence.
Wadde recalls the terror of those years: “This area is the place where they executed so many innocent villagers, including my relatives, for simply defying their diktats, like giving away one child to Naxal’s Bal Sena or simply daring to go out of the village to the town to see a doctor or study in a state-run residential school.”
His own family suffered losses on both sides of the conflict – one son, who was forced to join the rebels, was eventually killed by security forces, while another was killed by Maoists after he was branded a police informer.
Wadde himself fled after he was labelled an informer. As sarpanch, one of his first acts was symbolic: “The first thing I did as the village head was to raze the Shaheed Minar (a tower to honor the fallen Maoists) to dust. You see the hand pump there. I deliberately paved its platform with the debris of their pillar of pride to trample upon their legacy every day and forever.”
Since 2000, violence between insurgents and security forces has claimed nearly 12,000 lives, including over 4,000 civilians, according to the South Asian Terrorism Portal.
Similar scenes of return and reconstruction are unfolding in villages like Khader, where new brick homes funded by the prime minister’s housing scheme are rising amid the jungle. Despite brutal Maoist reprisals – including public beheadings of suspected “informers” witnessed by families – residents are coming back in growing numbers.
Education Replaces Indoctrination
Maoists destroyed or closed hundreds of schools and killed over 20 teachers since 2020 while running indoctrination centers in thatched huts. The state is now reversing the damage. In Bastar’s interior areas, 263 schools have reopened or been newly established, enrolling over 9,000 children, with nearly 100 new buildings under construction.
District officials, including Narayanpur’s district magistrate Smita Jain, conduct ‘Sushasan Shivir’ (Good Governance Camps) on motorcycles without fear, turning them into festive occasions where villagers obtain documents recognized pan-India, including Aadhaar cards (a 12-digit individual identification number issued to Indian residents), ration cards, and other essential documents.
Security forces have cleared jungle paths not only for operations but also to deliver governance directly to remote communities.
Veteran journalist Animesh Paul, who has covered the insurgency for nearly two decades, observes the dramatic shift. “Travelling in a police vehicle today is routine; just months ago, it would have been considered suicidal,” he opines.
Eliminating Leadership, Rehabilitating Cadres
In May 2025, Nambala Keshava Rao, alias Basavaraju, the general-secretary of the banned CPI (Maoist), was neutralized in a 50-hour encounter in the Abujhmarh hills. Young local recruits like Manish Usendi – whose brother was killed by Maoists for wanting to join the police – played roles in such operations. The collapse of Naxalites accelerated with a chain of high-profile operations executed by security forces. The elimination of top leaders, including Hidma, shattered command structures and triggered mass surrenders.
For regular Maoist cadres, the government gives an opportunity to lead a normal life. In a rehabilitation camp in Narayanpur, former members of the rebel movement now wear civilian clothes and train for new lives.
Over 2,700 Maoists have surrendered in the Bastar region in recent years as part of a larger nationwide trend. Senior officers credit sustained pressure on leadership, financial networks (extortion from contractors and forest produce traders), and infrastructure expansion for reducing the group’s capacity for major attacks.
Chhattisgarh’s Deputy Chief Minister Vijay Sharma, who also holds the Home portfolio, sums up the current phase: “The operation has been successful. But you don’t relieve yourself immediately after the operation. It is time for healing the state. Also, the Naxals are gone, but they’ve left behind landmine-riddled roads, jungles and ponds. The forces are clearing them out to make the jungles safe for everyone.”
Mangtu, who joined as a child soldier at age 14, confides, “I was so smitten by the uniforms and weapons of the Naxals that I accompanied them, almost hypnotized.” Aspiring to become a taxi driver, he adds, “I am training to be a taxi driver; some are getting training to eke out a living as plumbers. I am done with this goalless and endless revolution. I am tired of running and hiding. I want to live a normal life now and start a family.”
Many surrendered rebels revealed the Maoists’ brutal practice of forced sterilization – vasectomies and tubectomies performed without anesthesia on hundreds of young cadres – to sever family bonds and turn them into detached “human weapons.” They are now seeking a reversal procedure.
The dream of a contiguous ‘Red Corridor’ exploiting tribal grievances, poverty, and weak state presence has now collapsed into isolated pockets. Historically, the Naxalite leadership was often from Telugu-speaking regions in the country’s South, as the movement drew from post-Independence agrarian unrest, including the Telangana Struggle of 1946-51. The foot soldiers were local ‘adivasis’, or tribal people, while funding came mainly from local “levies” rather than large-scale foreign support.
After eliminating insurgency, authorities are now replacing parallel local governance structures and Kangaroo courts with transparent governance. Hundreds of security camps that have been established in the villages will further transition into schools, health centers, or community facilities once the area is fully stabilized. Central forces continue de-mining of areas to ensure physical safety. There are many underlying vulnerabilities – single rain-fed agriculture, dependence on minor forest produce like Mahua flowers and tendu leaves, and lack of irrigation – created fertile ground for insurgency.
The proposed Bodhghat project on the Indravati River, estimated at around $6 billion and intended to generate 125 MW of power and irrigate nearly 700,000 hectares across key districts, could enable multiple crops and reduce the economic fragility that Maoists once exploited.
The grand Maoist vision of a continuous “Red Corridor” stretching from Tirupati in Andhra Pradesh to Pashupati in Nepal now lies in tatters, reduced to scattered remnants in a handful of remote pockets. What remains is the harder, more enduring task: translating military gains into lasting peace through inclusive development, responsive governance, and economic opportunity.