Arfan Choudhary

Class Unity or Nationalist Division? The MKP Split and Its Enduring Legacy


This response goes beyond a defence of our earlier arguments. Its purpose is to consolidate our anti-revisionist Marxist-Leninist position and call for principled unity on questions that have remained persistent sources of ideological contestation throughout the history of the Pakistani Left. Among these is the peculiar hostility displayed by sections of the petty-bourgeoise intelligentsia towards the very word “Pakistan” or the use of religious symbolism in revolutionary political practice. This infantile disorder continues to afflict sections of the Left.

A Response to Teleological Fallacy Methodology

Noaman Ali characterises my interpretation of the political disagreements that contributed to the MKP’s split in 1977–78 as an example of a teleological fallacy, arguing that I have relied on the subsequent political trajectory of Sher Ali Bacha and Imtiaz Alam to explain their earlier positions. However, in making this criticism, he gives the impression that a literal reading of documentary texts is, in itself, a more rigorous methodology for writing history. This is also an academically weak argument.

Historical interpretation cannot be reduced to the wording of documents alone. Documents provide us with a recorded and often filtered version of events, but they do not necessarily reveal the full range of meanings, intentions, and political considerations that shaped their production. The latent meaning of a document must also be examined alongside the interpretations of those who participated in the debates and political processes that produced it.

The subsequent political practice of the actors involved provides another important dimension, allowing us to test and refine hypotheses developed through documentary evidence and the interpretations of contemporary participants. I do not use later political practice as the starting point for interpreting an earlier documented position; rather, it serves as a means of validating and refining an interpretation already developed from the historical evidence.

For example, when I argued that Imtiaz and Sher Ali Bacha were proposing the dissolution of the MKP as a unified political organisation and its reorganisation along ethnic lines, I did not arrive at this conclusion merely by examining their subsequent political practice. Instead, I triangulated three sources of evidence:

  1. First, I examined the wording and organisational implications of their proposal to understand what they were actually proposing.
  2. Second, I examined how the proposal was understood and interpreted by those who participated in the relevant debates. This was necessary to understand its political meaning, underlying intentions, and the concerns it generated among party leaders and workers.
  3. Third, I examined the subsequent political practice of Sher Ali and Imtiaz to test whether their later organisational and political choices were consistent with the interpretation developed through the first two stages.

From a methodological standpoint, this constitutes a triangulation of documentary evidence, participants’ interpretations, and subsequent political practice. Reducing this approach to a teleological fallacy and rejecting it on that basis is therefore an oversimplification on Ali’s part. It confuses the use of subsequent developments as one source of historical validation with the retrospective imposition of a predetermined outcome on the past.

I do not wish to speculate about the reasons behind this adjustment. Nevertheless, from an academic standpoint, such a revision requires more than simply declaring an earlier reading mistaken. It requires a clear explanation of what was wrong with the original interpretation, what new evidence or methodological insight warrants the change, and how the revised account better explains the historical record.

The Historical Roots of Nationality-Based Organisational Forms

Those who remained and continued the struggle began reorganising themselves in different forms. Various regional groups operated under different umbrella organisations and eventually came together to establish the National Awami Party (NAP), a heterogeneous amalgamation of regional nationalists, provincial autonomists, communists, landless peasants, landlords, and other loosely defined progressive forces, whose divergent ideological positions and often conflicting class interests were brought together under a common political umbrella. Within this fragmented framework, communist sections reorganised themselves into different cells and attempted to build a coherent organisation.

Following the Sino-Soviet split, tensions emerged among the various underground CPP cells and their respective mass fronts. These differences extended beyond the question of the dispute between the USSR and China. They also concerned the nature of the politics being practised at the time. To put it briefly, the central question was what kind of class politics they should pursue: whether to defend the interests of regional elites or organise the oppressed classes suffering under their domination. The debates also reflected deeper disagreements over how the newly formed country, its history, and its political foundations were understood.

As a result of these debates, the NAP first split into two major factions—NAP-Bhashani and NAP-Wali. The NAP-Bhashani group subsequently split further in West Pakistan, resulting in the formation of NAP-Bhashani and the NAP (Mazdoor Kisan) in 1967-68.

The ideology and strategy underlying this practice were aimed at harnessing centrifugal nationalist sentiments and organising a struggle for national democracy and provincial autonomy. The term national democracy, however, should not be confused with Mao Zedong’s conception of the New Democratic Revolution, which envisaged a united front of revolutionary classes against their common enemies. In contrast, this particular conception of national democracy reinforced ethnic divisions and placed the struggle under the leadership of the regional bourgeoisie.

When I argue that Imtiaz and Sher Ali were borrowing from the revisionist camp, I am referring to this historical context. Their proposal closely resembled the organisational practices of the revisionist camp, which had been pursued formally since 1967 and informally even earlier. However, from the standpoint of actual political practice, their strategy was even more flawed, resembling demagoguery rather than a serious political proposition.



Ishaq Muhammad and the Organisation of Landless Peasants

The other opportunist faction, meanwhile, sides with the rich peasants and seeks to establish the domination of the prosperous rural and urban classes over the Party. It places emphasis on litigation and public meetings, views ideological debate with suspicion, recoils from the very name of socialism, and sabotages the establishment of a committee system and democratic institutions within the Party. Consequently, the Sarhad Party’s Provincial Council has still not been constituted, nor is any provincial-level body functioning.

The provincial party president and general secretary remain paralysed and inactive. In 1973, an attempt was made to convene the provincial party congress one day before the National Congress, but it failed because the necessary preparations had not been made. Preparations for the second congress have now fallen victim to factionalism within the Party and have, to some extent, themselves contributed to it. For this reason, the National Congress has also remained stalled.”

Noaman himself has presented sufficient evidence that Ishaq Muhammad, the central president of the MKP, was sympathetic to the concerns of the landless peasantry. Indeed, there is little reason to assume that someone like Ishaq would have opposed their organisation. He had examined the social conditions of landless peasants in Punjab and depicted their economic and social oppression in his Punjabi play Musalli, written in 1969–70 and published in 1970–71. The play subsequently became a vehicle for organising the landless peasantry in Punjab.

Bacha’s equation was mistaken on both theoretical and tactical grounds. The importance of distinguishing between different strata of the peasantry, and of adapting revolutionary strategy to the prevailing balance of class forces, was well established in Mao’s approach to agrarian reform.

“The tactics in question are to leave untouched not only the capitalist rich peasants but also the semi-feudal ones in the agrarian reform scheduled for this winter in southern provinces and some regions in the Northwest and to defer the solution of the problem of the semi-feudal rich peasants for several years…

The reasons for taking this course are: First, the agrarian reform is unprecedented in scale and ultra-Left deviations are likely to occur. If we touch only the landlords and not the rich peasants, we can more effectively isolate the landlords, protect the middle peasants and guard against indiscriminate beating and killing…Second, the agrarian reform in the north was carried out in wartime…but now, with the fighting practically over, the agrarian reform stands out in sharp relief, and the shock to society will be particularly great and the landlords’ outcries particularly shrill.

If we leave the semi-feudal rich peasants untouched for the time being and deal with them a few years later, we will stand on stronger ground, that is to say, politically we will have more initiative. Third, we have formed a united front with the national bourgeoisie politically, economically and organizationally; and since the national bourgeoisie is closely tied up with the land problem, it seems better not to touch the semi-feudal rich peasants.”

These tactical considerations were particularly relevant to the conditions confronting the MKP in Sarhad. The party was not yet consolidated in the area, nor had it developed into a protracted revolutionary base where it could make and implement decisions independently. The state machinery was still present and functioning effectively. Although the MKP was gaining influence through the slogan of “land to the tiller”, it was not yet in a position to redistribute land through its own organisational mechanisms.

Under these circumstances, what the MKP could do was mediate agreements between landless workers and landowners concerning access to land and other resources, better wages, a greater share of crops, and more respectful social treatment of landless workers.

However, I feel that Noaman Ali creates a misleading impression that Sher Ali was the first to identify this contradiction, while the central leadership remained unaware of it. Ishaq Muhammad had been working in the area since 1963, when he became the convenor of the Kisan Committee, a peasant front of the NAP. It is difficult to believe that he would have been unfamiliar with the social and economic conditions of the region. Sher Ali himself acknowledged Ishaq’s contribution in an article published in Circular No. 54: “After Ishaq assumed the charge of Kisan Committee, it drove the new and old peasants’ workers to organise the farmers in the Sarhad.”

Previously, the leadership of the Kisan Committee had largely remained in the hands of rich peasants and was also ideologically influenced by the regional Pashtun Khans within the NAP leadership. It is therefore unreasonable to assume that Ishaq Muhammad was unaware of the question of landless peasants in Hashtnagar or opposed to their organisation.



Dissolving the Party or Putting the Party in Command?

In the subsection titled “Dissolving the Party or Putting the Party in Command”, Ali argues that Imtiaz and Sher Ali Bacha were not proposing the dissolution of the party, but rather seeking to establish proletarian leadership by addressing the organisational difficulties of recruiting illiterate masses directly into the party. However, this conception of party organisation is particularly favourable to petty-bourgeoise pseudo-intellectuals who are uncomfortable working directly among the masses. Such intellectuals tend to establish a quasi-Brahminical position of superiority, from which they can claim the authority to direct the masses on the basis of their supposedly superior understanding of Marxism-Leninism.

Mao Zedong challenged precisely this assumption in his Preface and Postscript to Rural Surveys (1941), declaring that:

“The masses are the real heroes, while we ourselves are often childish and ignorant.”

Furthermore, this proposal appears to involve creating a series of hypothetical letterhead organisations and fronts, many of which did not even exist in practice. We are well acquainted with this tendency within the Left during that period.

In conclusion, proposing to abandon the MKP name at a time when the party was gaining popularity and influence in everyday politics, particularly in areas where people were rebelling against the old shackles of feudalism, was a deeply flawed political decision.

Elections and Tactical Political Judgement

In the subsection concerning elections in his article, Ali’s discussion demonstrates that the peasants were wiser than the party leadership. They understood the significance of tactical support: by backing the Pakistan Peoples Party (PPP)against the Pakistan National Alliance (PNA), they sought to prevent the latter from coming to power. The leadership, however, was reluctant to recognise this reality. Ishaq Muhammad discussed the party’s deliberations on the elections in detail.

He asserted that:

“What confidence can anyone place in the leadership of a party which, in August 1977, could not recognise that elections were not going to take place and was ready to sacrifice nine years of party policy and reputation because of the foolishness and selfishness of a few individuals” (Party Circular #87)

He added:

“One gentleman was particularly agitated about the elections because he had returned after fielding a candidate from a workers’ constituency. The candidate’s election deposit of Rs. 1,500 had been paid by a PNA candidate as a contribution to the election fund, with a promise of further financial assistance. The gentleman thought that this would secure funds for the trade union. The PNA people, meanwhile, believed that workers’ votes would not go to the Pakistan People’s Party. This kind of despicable bargaining is then presented as a matter of principle”.

“My position on elections is the same as that of the party. Elections are not a matter of faith versus disbelief. Whether or not to participate in elections is a tactical question, and a decision should be made after considering the circumstances and the situation. The ruling classes in underdeveloped countries do not allow elections to take place properly; and even when they do take place, they do not respect the results. Pakistan’s experience of past elections teaches us precisely this. Now, elections are being held on the condition that they produce predetermined, favourable results.”

“Electoral politics has its own rules. If we want to practise electoral politics, we will have to bring people with financial resources into the party, adopt the politics of the Chaudhrys, engage in unscrupulous bargaining, and pursue a reformist rather than a revolutionary policy. Since the ruling classes have blocked the path to workers’ and peasants’ power through elections, continuing to knock on this door was an act of extreme foolishness.”

“If there is strong unity within the party, there is no harm in sending second-tier leaders to the assemblies. But without party unity and organisation, these people will slip out of the party’s hands and become absorbed into the ruling class.”

The Organisational Practices of Imtiaz and Sher Ali: Testing My Historical Interpretations

According to Ali’s account, Sher Ali won the internal struggle over the organisation of landless peasants, while he and Afzal Bangash had no disagreement over participation in elections. Furthermore, Ali presents the proposal advanced by Sher Ali and Imtiaz as simply an attempt to unite with ethnic minorities. If this were indeed the case, why were they unable to unite the party in Sarhad Province and lead it at the national level, together with their supporters in other parts of the country?

If, as Ali concludes, Sher Ali and Imtiaz’s proposal was a carefully thought-out plan for reorganising the MKP through the Kisan Union or Kisan Committee, what compelled Sher Ali to adopt the very same party name he had previously considered an obstacle, merely by adding the prefix “Pakhtunkhwa”? Similarly, Imtiaz initially adopted the name MKP Workers Group, creating confusion among peasant workers, before later announcing the formation of the Punjab Lok Party—Lok being a Punjabi word meaning “people”.

There are many living witnesses who participated in its first convention but, upon realising that they had boarded the wrong train, got off at the very next station and returned to their original party. A handful of young middle-class activists, however, were trained and nurtured for the NGO boom of the 1980s and its service to imperialism.

What efforts did these revolutionaries make to implement their supposedly well-thought-out radical plan of building class fronts and an alliance of national minorities under revolutionary proletarian leadership, as proposed by Sher Ali and Imtiaz? Let us examine the subsequent political practice of these two leaders, particularly their efforts to establish parties along ethnic lines, as a means of testing and validating our earlier interpretation.

Trajectory of Bacha

Bacha, who had considered the name Mazdoor Kisan Party an obstacle to recruiting landless peasants, urban labourers, and other classes because he regarded it as too narrowly peasant-oriented, adopted the very same name in his new political venture—just a month after Bangash announced the formation of a separate party. This haste raises questions about how carefully thought out their position was and how closely Imtiaz and Sher Ali had coordinated their efforts. One is left to wonder: what, exactly, had come from this close coordination?

It was an underground party that coordinated various mass fronts through entryism. This had been the organisational practice of the united Communist Party within the NAP and, later, of the pro-Moscow CPP after 1967. Such a strategy may have been understandable when Ayub Khan had suppressed progressive forces and barred routine political activity. However, proposing the same approach at a time when people, particularly those from the downtrodden classes, were becoming increasingly politicised and actively participating in everyday politics was an infantile error.

Bacha retained the name briefly before eventually joining hands with Mehmood Achakzai to form the Pakhtunkhwa Milli Awami Party (PKMAP).

Trajectory of Imtiaz Alam

As discussed in my previous response, Imtiaz and Sher Ali travelled to Afghanistan to seek material assistance but were unsuccessful. As Ali stated, upon their return, “Bacha and Imtiaz began to focus on “left unity” and increased interaction with communists in Afghanistan, which ultimately led to their arrest and imprisonment from 1981–1985/86. During this time, Imtiaz interacted closely with members of the revisionist Communist Party of Pakistan (CPP). Upon his release, Imtiaz turned toward reconstituting the CPP (and forming mass alliances with landed elites), and later the Qaumi Inqilabi Party (QIP).”

Let us examine the QIP’s organisational documents to assess how closely the structure proposed by Imtiaz and its new “comrades” resembled what he and Sher Ali had advocated within the MKP in 1978. This analysis will also provide the necessary context for the following section, where I challenge Ali’s equation of the political practice of MKP-Ishaq with that of Imtiaz, Sher Ali, and various revisionist organisations.

First of all, the central leaders of the QIP ridicule the class struggles of peasants, workers, and intellectuals. The Marxist theory of class struggle is declared obsolete and outdated, while ordinary trade-union activity and organising among workers and peasants are dismissed as a waste of time. Why are these ideas being advanced? The reasons offered are as follows:

  1. The principal contradiction of the present era is no longer the contradiction between capital and labour.
  2. Classes do not exist in society in clearly defined forms.
  3. The proletariat is very small in number, while society as a whole is petty-bourgeois. (QIP Congress Document, pp. 76–77.)

On the basis of these arguments, the “revolutionaries until 1977” arrive at the conclusion that, in the present era, the true service of the working people lies not in the class struggle but in struggling for liberal democracy, regional autonomy, and so forth. There is no need to think about socialism until capitalism has fully matured.

At the theoretical level, particularly in relation to surplus value, the QIP argued that exploitation in small-scale productive industries largely takes the form of non-economic coercion. Yet, only a decade earlier, these very revolutionaries had regarded the coercive relationship between peasant proprietors and agricultural labourers in Hashtnagar and Charsadda as equivalent to the domination exercised by the Khans. They insisted on treating this contradiction as antagonistic, thereby contributing to the deepening of divisions within the party. This supposedly profound theoretical evolution did not take centuries; it took only a few years. Once the party’s disintegration was complete, a new line of propaganda emerged, directly contradicting the position they had upheld in 1977.

However, when the time came to build the party and implement this revolutionary perspective in practice, the approach adopted was to establish a confederal party consisting of five separate manifestos.

Moreover, the role of the central coordinating body would be limited to preparing reports on the organisation’s overall activities and conducting foreign relations. Thus, rather than engaging in the difficult task of fostering unity among the different national groups within the country and developing a common programme of coordinated political action on the basis of shared class interests, an organisational model at odds with the Marxist-Leninist principle of proletarian internationalism was proposed: each national group would be free to conduct its politics as per its own wishes.

The Soviet theory of revolution in stages was interpreted as suggesting that Pakistan faced three fundamental questions: the national question, the democratic question, and the class question.

Each national unit would determine for itself whether to prioritise the national or democratic question in the first stage of its struggle. Only after these questions had been resolved would the class question be addressed. In this way, the QIP’s theoretical position was broadly consistent with its other fundamental ideas, while also reflecting tendencies associated with New Marxism and the class opportunism of today’s AWP-Marxist.

The former Secretary General of the Communist Party of Pakistan, Jamal Naqvi, discussed the activities of the “revolutionaries until 1977”, particularly Imtiaz Alam, in an interview with Ahmad Saleem published in Awami Jamhoori Forum, Issue No. 24. He explained how their frivolous—or, more accurately, suspicious—activities had significantly damaged the party. He observed: “When these people came into the party (CPP) and started propagating their former leaders (Ishaq Muhammad), we did not know for what purpose they had joined. Their activities created chaos within the party.”

He further added that today he “considered Ishaq Muhammad a genuine man despite our disagreements.” The interviewer remarked: “Yes, apart from the disagreements, he is committed to the cause.” Jamal Naqvi then observed that bringing these people into the party was not the right decision.

He also recalled the formation of the QIP and the discussions and debates within the party about its establishment. He said that Mukhtar Bacha had written a document describing the revolutionary situation in the Sarhad. The document argued: “the situation for revolution in Pakistan is not ripe yet, but the situation in Sarhad is fully ripe. Therefore, Afghanistan and the Sarhad Province could become one country.”

The purpose of providing these details is to demonstrate that the positions advanced by the “revolutionaries until 1977” during the MKP’s internal debates were subsequently reflected in their political practice. Ali’s misreading, or his inability to capture the holistic meaning of my argument, therefore represents a significant weakness in his analysis.

He interprets these positions primarily through the literal wording of party circulars, supplemented by recent interviews with Imtiaz Alam and reassessments shaped by the contemporary political interpretations and practices of his associates. Yet the historical evidence, including these testimonies, is sufficient to substantiate my earlier argument and establish a more comprehensive understanding of the debates and the positions involved. This is not a teleological interpretation.



The Difference Between the Political Trajectories of Revolutionary Until 1977 and the MKP-Ishaq

Ali attempts to whitewash the revisionism of the “revolutionaries until 1977” by equating their political trajectory with that of the MKP under Ishaq Muhammad, which merged with a section of the CPP roughly a decade later. This comparison is fundamentally superficial, and I would challenge it on the following grounds:

1. The political trajectory of the “revolutionaries until 1977”

Imtiaz merged with a section of the revisionist camp and produced the Qaumi Inqilabi Party (QIP) document, which took revisionism to an even more extreme level. I have analysed this document above to demonstrate how the revisionist tendencies that emerged following the Sino-Soviet split in 1967 reached their culmination with the formation of the QIP. The political line they ultimately adopted was diametrically opposed to the position they had advanced in 1977.

2. The political trajectory of the MKP–Ishaq[1]

In contrast, the MKP under Ishaq Muhammad did not follow the same course. From 1978 onwards, it made substantial contributions towards achieving principled left unity, continuing these efforts until 1994, when it merged with a section of the CPP that had distanced itself from the revisionist line of its former General Secretary, Jamal Naqvi, later known as the author of Leaving the Left Behind.

In 1986, the MKP-Ishaq condemned Gorbachev’s policies, whereas the CPP continued to support Glasnost and Perestroika. The MKP argued that these policies would lead to the restoration of capitalism in the Soviet Union. The eventual dissolution of the Soviet Union had an enormous impact on the Pakistani Left, with numerous opportunist factions abandoning Marxism and the communist movement altogether.

It was a period of ideological wavering, confusion, desertion, and international isolation. At this difficult historical juncture, the MKP-Ishaq remained firmly committed to Marxism-Leninism and Mao Zedong Thought. It engaged with left-wing groups that continued to uphold scientific socialism, seeking to achieve unity on that basis.

The MKP-Ishaq remained involved in left-wing alliances under the leadership of Comrade Ghulam Nabi Kulo, alongside the Watan Dost Inqilabi Party (Dr Arbab Khuhawar), the Communist Party of Pakistan (Imam Ali Nazish), the NSF (Dr Rasheed Hassan Khan), and several other organisations. Unfortunately, the MKP-Ishaq was unable to achieve organisational unity with Watan Dost and the NSF.

In fact, Watan Dost had initially endorsed the “Lahore Declaration” for a merger with the MKP, but its Central Committee subsequently reversed the decision. Its central leader, Dr Arbab Khuhawar, then wrote a letter of apology to Ghulam Nabi Kulo, reproduced in the accompanying image. Following these developments, the Communist Party of Pakistan and the Mazdoor Kisan Party eventually came together to uphold the banner of communism.

In 1994, both parties engaged in criticism and self-criticism. Comrades from the CPP critically reassessed their earlier failure to recognise the impact of Soviet revisionism and reconsidered their practice of National Democracy. Meanwhile, comrades from the MKP reviewed their position on direct socialism, as articulated in their 1990 document. Both parties agreed upon a political programme of People’s Democracy and came together to form the Communist Mazdoor Kissan Party (CMKP).

3. Continuity of work among bonded labourers and rural workers

Ali also downplays the continuity of the MKP-Ishaq’s work among bonded labourers and rural workers, while treating its brief engagement in NGO-based initiatives concerning bonded labour as comparable to the civil-society work of Imtiaz Alam, thereby attempting to justify the latter. Here again, there is a distinction that Ali appears unwilling to recognise in his efforts to rehabilitate the present-day politics of his associates.

The MKP-Ishaq had been organising among bonded labourers since the 1970s, before the emergence of the NGO phenomenon. Following the expansion of NGOs in the 1980s, party activists and these organisations supported one another in pursuing a common cause. This struggle also contributed to important achievements, including the enactment of the Bonded Labour System (Abolition) Act, 1992. There is no evidence that the MKP-Ishaq leadership subordinated its political work to NGO-funded projects or derived personal benefits from such arrangements.

By contrast, MKP-Ishaq activists have continued working directly in the field, including in areas where NGOs are also engaged in addressing bonded labour. They do not antagonise these organisations, as they are pursuing a common cause. While this cooperation has produced tangible achievements, it has also come at a cost. One consequence has been the emergence of mistrust between workers who serve voluntarily as full-time activists and those who receive limited financial support through NGO-funded initiatives.



The Question of Bringing Nationalist Formations into the MKP

If such organisational arrangements were a condition for joining the party, then this practice certainly warranted serious scrutiny. An underground confederal structure of this kind is hardly a sound basis for building trust among the masses. To effectively counter the propaganda of right-wing ethno-nationalists, it is necessary for a multi-ethnic leadership to unite publicly, challenge divisive propaganda, hate speech, and ethnic chauvinism—whether among majority or minority nationalities.

Reflecting on their political collaboration and shared experiences, he wrote that, on one occasion, a delegation of the Awami Tehreek travelled to Haji Sher, a remote town in District Vehari, Punjab, to attend the provincial congress of the Mazdoor Kisan Party. After attending the public session of the conference, our peasant comrades joined the party’s cultural programme in the evening. At that moment, I felt that the peasant leaders of Sindh and Punjab had grown so close to one another that the national contradictions separating them seemed to be dissolving through their mutual interaction.

At the end of the same essay, Palijo brought his recollections to a close with a profound admission:

“I (Palejo) also wanted to make an acknowledgement to you, Ishaq Muhammad, of a truth that has become clear to me. You had written in your newspaper, referring to us by name, that in time we would come to know who our true and steadfast friends were, and who were merely smooth-talking and hypocritical friends. I (Palejo) wanted to tell you that time and circumstances have made us realise exactly what you wanted us to understand. You were right.”

Here, I would also like to draw upon my own experience. After leaving, or being expelled from, the Awami Workers Party, I had the opportunity to spend five years in Sindh. During this period, I completed my PhD in Integrated Water Resources Management at the Water Centre of Mehran University, while also gaining extensive experience conducting fieldwork in remote parts of the province. I spent not merely a few hours, but hundreds of days alongside ordinary peasants in Sindh’s Kachho and Lar regions.

These experiences further strengthened my conviction in Palijo’s observation that the silver-tongued petty-bourgeois elements of both regions bear the greatest responsibility for fostering misunderstandings between the people of Punjab and Sindh, with their counterparts in Karachi and Lahore playing a particularly prominent role.

As Comrade Ho Chi Minh once said:

“To reap return in ten years, plant a tree. To reap a return in 100 years, cultivate the people.”

The Charge of Chauvinism and Balochistan National Liberation

In the subsection titled “On the United Front and Nationalities”, Ali makes two main arguments:

  1. He acknowledges that accusing Ishaq Muhammad of chauvinism for advocating national unity on the basis of the natural oneness of West Pakistan is an exaggeration.
  2. He nevertheless attempts to substantiate the charge of chauvinism by invoking Howland’s definition, alleging that Ishaq regarded “a Pakistani (Punjabi) progressive” as superior to the vision of national minorities.

Ali discusses Ishaq’s assessment of the Baloch struggle as “limited to a chaotic struggle over power amongst the ruling classes”, noting that Ishaq did not regard it as a struggle for national liberation. Ali argues that this position, together with Ishaq’s refusal to recognise the right of secession, reflected elements of chauvinism.

Before examining these claims in detail, I would like to cite an observation by former BSO General Secretary Rahim Zafar Baloch, who stated:

Ali further alleges that a “significant” number of elements within the nationalist movement in Balochistan were opposed to the sardari system. He also claims that Sher Muhammad Marri was a “Marxist-Leninist”. However, a professed commitment to Marxism-Leninism is insufficient to establish one’s adherence to it. That must be assessed through the substance of one’s political positions and practice.

“Today’s poor man will not follow his landlord to fight for his freedom. You have to convince him that in a new state he will get his economic rights, and that means some adaptation of what Marx and Lenin have taught.”

Harrison also records Khair Bakhsh’s own reservations about Marxism-Leninism:

“What I see in Lenin I miss elsewhere, but it doesn’t mean I feel a blind attachment to the man and his teachings. Marxism-Leninism has helped me to understand politics, though being Marxist-Leninist is not easy and I am not sure that I qualify.”

Furthermore, with respect to Ali’s claim that substantial sections of the movement opposed the sardari system, we leave it to our readers to identify even a single instance in which these elements engaged in a practical struggle against Balochistan’s sardars specifically on the basis of their position as feudal-tribal chiefs. For these elements to be meaningfully characterised as anti-feudal, the struggle against the sardari system would have to occupy a central place in their political practice, above, not subordinate to, nationalism.

Finally, it is our view that Ishaq’s position on these questions was not unlike that of Mao Zedong. Ishaq maintained that “We possess an ancient cultural heritage. Studying the development of our ancient culture and drawing out its democratic essence is a necessary condition for developing our new national culture and strengthening our autonomy.”

Mao Zedong’s approach to China’s diverse population similarly rested on a dual conception: recognising the distinct identities of minority nationalities (shaoshu minzu) while emphasising their unity within the broader Chinese nation (Zhonghua minzu). Mao himself belonged to the Han ethnic majority, yet consistently advocated unity among China’s nationalities and the consolidation of a common national identity.

If Howland’s definition of chauvinism is applied as Ali suggests, Mao’s advocacy of national unity, despite his membership in the ethnic majority, could likewise be characterised as chauvinist.



Conclusion

As stated in the introduction, the purpose of this article extends beyond defending or revisiting the historical positions of different left-wing parties. Our broader objective is to contribute to the debate on the political and ideological foundations of Marxist-Leninist unity in contemporary Pakistan.

An examination of the historical roots and class character of contemporary political positions reveals that many of the contradictions confronting the Pakistani Left are far from being relics of the past. The debates that emerged following the Pakistan–India war once again exposed these fault lines, with familiar arguments resurfacing under new terminology and advanced by different political actors.

Revisiting these historical debates is therefore essential to understanding how past ideological struggles continue to shape the present, critically reassessing their limitations, and strengthening Marxist-Leninist political practice as a foundation for principled collective action.

On this basis, we propose the following Charter of Principles as a foundation for Marxist-Leninist unity in contemporary Pakistani politics.

1. National sovereignty and resistance to imperialism

Marxist-Leninists must uphold the principle of national sovereignty and oppose all forms of external aggression against Pakistan, whether carried out directly by imperialist powers, through their proxies, or by regional expansionist powers. Our opposition to imperialism must remain principled and independent of the political interests of competing regional and global powers.

2. National Liberation and the historical formation of Pakistan

Marxist-Leninists must uphold a historically grounded understanding of national liberation and extend its emancipatory implications to the Pakistani nation. As Stalin explained, a nation is not a fixed or immutable category, but a historically constituted and evolving one. If the multinational character of China did not negate the existence of a Chinese nation, on what Marxist-Leninist theoretical basis should Pakistan’s multinational character negate the existence of a Pakistani nation?

The struggle for national liberation cannot be understood solely through the prism of ethnicity; it must be grounded in Marxist-Leninist theory and its concrete application to historical and material conditions. In Pakistan, this requires confronting the enduring structures of imperialist dependency, economic domination, and political subordination that constrain national sovereignty and the emancipation of our people.

3. Class struggle as the material foundation for unity

Marxist-Leninist unity must be grounded in the independent political organisation and struggles of workers, peasants, and other exploited classes. While tactical alliances are sometimes necessary, the political and organisational independence of the working-class movement must never be subordinated to the interests of exploiting and oppressor classes.

4. Unity of the Pakistani nation and the rights of constituent nationalities

Marxist-Leninists must struggle for the unity of the Pakistani nation on the basis of equality, democratic consent, and recognition of the rights of its constituent nationalities, ethnic communities, and linguistic minorities. National unity cannot be achieved through administrative centralisation alone, nor imposed through the denial of nationality rights. It must rest upon respect for diversity, opposition to economic, ethnic, and linguistic oppression, and the guarantee of equal political, economic, and cultural rights for all nationalities and communities.

5. Engagement with religious sentiments and progressive religious traditions

Marxist-Leninists must challenge the alienation of working people caused by liberal and left-wing tendencies that mock, dismiss, or disregard their religious sentiments. Our political practice must demonstrate respect for the cultural and religious traditions of the masses without compromising our ideological principles. We must reclaim and strengthen the Left’s historical legacy as a pro-people, anti-imperialist, anti-feudal, and anti-tribal-system political tradition. This also requires identifying common ground and building alliances with progressive religious currents wherever they contribute to the struggle against exploitation, oppression, and imperialist domination.

6. Ideological independence and opposition to imperialist influence within the Left

Marxist-Leninists must maintain an independent ideological and political struggle against tendencies within the Left that reproduce the assumptions and political priorities of Western imperialism. This requires critical engagement with those currents of Western Marxism that, as Gabriel Rockhill has argued, contribute to the formation of a “Washington-compatible Left”. Our ideological independence must be grounded in the concrete historical, social, and material conditions of Pakistan, rather than the uncritical adoption of political frameworks and priorities shaped by imperialist forces..