BY
Ilangovan Rajasekaran
The year was 1995. Four villagers had been brutally murdered in the erstwhile V.O. Chidambaranar district of Tamil nadu, now Thoothukudi, on a single day. One of the victims was Annasamy, aged 84, who was the father-in-law of R. Nallakannu, the then State secretary of the Communist Party of India (CPI).
Annasamy was hacked to death in his sleep in his house at Maruthanvalavu village. A senior policeman confided in me later that the murderer was the victim’s trusted farm worker. At that time, the spectre of caste violence was raging across the southern districts of Tamil Nadu, the conflict mainly between Pallars, a Scheduled Caste (SC) group, and Maravas, a land-owning backward caste group. Nearly 400 people died and properties worth crores of rupees were destroyed in a decade of violence and arson that remains a blot on Tamil Nadu’s tradition of social justice.
I filed a single-column news report about the murders in The Hindu dated December 4, 1995. When I asked Nallakannu for a quote on the incident, he politely declined and asked me to play it down. He rushed from Chennai to Thoothukudi, and instead of going to his father-in-law’s village for the last rites, directly took part in a peace march held in the riot-affected villages. I met him on several occasions later but we never discussed that tragic incident. And there was not an iota of rancour in him.
That was Comrade RNK, as he was affectionately known to all, regardless of political or ideological affiliations. Nallakannu, a freedom fighter and dedicated Communist, remained devoted to his ideals until his passing on February 25, 2026, at the age of 101. He died following age-related complications at Chennai’s Rajiv Gandhi Government General Hospital.
End of an era
His death marks the end of an era in Tamil Nadu politics—one shaped by a generation of iconic leaders whose public lives were defined by personal sacrifice, ideological conviction, and an enduring commitment to social justice. In fact, he was believed to have been the second-oldest communist veteran in Tamil Nadu, after his Marxian contemporary and comrade friend N. Sankaraiah, who too had a century of life and decades of political career. Sankaraiah, at 101, died in 2023.
Nallakannu was born in 1925 (on December 25), coincidentally also the year the CPI was founded. Last year, there were centenary celebrations for both the party and its eminent leader. It was a privilege for a man from the small Vaishnavite temple town of Srivaikuntam to be loved, respected, and remembered.
Nallakannu’s parents Ramasamy and Karuppayi were farmers in Srivaikuntam. He completed SSLC from Coronation School in that town and the intermediate course in Madurai, but did not complete college education. By then, like hundreds of youths, he was fully immersed in the freedom movement.
However, his eight-decade-long public life of resistance was not limited to the freedom struggle and mobilisation of the working class and farm workers. It also included the social justice movement against caste oppression and untouchability. The politician-cum-activist stood against social evils in all forms.
Three significant political developments during the country’s pre- and post-Independence periods shaped his political career, which began when he was an 11-year-old schoolboy. His early public life started when he was still a student, when the freedom movement was at its peak.
In Thoothukudi, the Swadeshi movement, led by V.O. Chidambaram Pillai, was spreading throughout the southern region. A strike at Harvey Mills became a rallying point. Inspired by it, Nallakannu collected rice from households in Thoothukudi town every day with his friends and distributed it among the striking workers.
A stint in Congress
The Harvey Mills strike was the launch pad for his public life. During that time, he campaigned for the Congress in the provincial elections. Unlike Sankaraiah, who participated in the freedom movement as a college student and became a Communist member immediately afterwards, Nallakannu, like renowned trade union activist M. Singaravelar, who was also the father of the Communist movement, had a stint in the Congress before turning to Communism in 1944.
He also drew inspiration from the poet Subramania Bharathi, another son of the soil. The bard’s immortal poems shaped his political thinking and taught him to understand class disparities and social discrimination. He realised the annihilative role of caste and relentlessly worked for a casteless society.
When the country was on the threshold of gaining Independence, a few quick political developments within the Congress took place. Since the party was to rule after the British, it assumed the character of a ruler. Nallakannu felt that the Congress had become an asylum for zamindars and feudal landlords against whom he had been fighting for long. For him, it was more of a bourgeois party with an imperialistic attitude.
The Congress could not be entirely faulted either. After the Quit India movement in 1942, its leaders, realising that the British would leave the country soon, were preoccupied with numerous serious administrative and social issues, such as Partition and the task of shaping a new state with its own democratic and constitutional framework. So, in their haste to rule and govern, they overlooked the core principle—social emancipation, which Ambedkar and the Constitution had envisioned.
It was at this point that Nallakannu’s political perspective underwent a distinct shift—from anti-colonialism to anti-feudalism and from political intervention to politico-social activism. He felt that the working class, particularly the peasantry, needed his support the most. He had realised that Congress was no longer a place for people like him.
At that time, the Communist movement was emerging as a pan-Indian alternative to the Congress, emphasising the interests of peasants and the working class. It regarded Independence as merely a transfer of power from one coloniser to another.
Under the leadership of Sahajanand Saraswati, the CPI’s Kisan Sabha, formed in 1936, played a pivotal role in mobilising agricultural labourers and peasants across the country. The movement demanded the abolition of the zamindari system and spearheaded militant agrarian struggles. It went on to launch the armed uprising in Telangana, while simultaneously laying the organisational and ideological groundwork for similar movements in other regions.
Young leaders like Nallakannu and Sankaraiah found the new political environment comfortable and energising. The movement provided them with the opportunity to pursue their ideals of empowering vulnerable communities. Together with kisan leader B. Srinivas Rao, they mobilised the peasants and challenged the influence of powerful feudal landowner lobbies. As a result, the movement brought significant improvements to the lives of agricultural labourers, especially in the combined delta and southern districts in Tamil Nadu. In fact, the push for minimum wages for farm workers began to gain momentum.
CPI’s rise upset Congress
The rise of the CPI’s popularity disturbed the ruling Congress. A major crackdown was unleashed. The party was banned in 1948, forcing frontliners to scramble underground. In 1949, Nallakannu was arrested for organising a “land for tillers” agitation on the charge of waging war against the state and sentenced to life imprisonment in what became known as the “Nellai conspiracy” case. He was tortured in custody. In those days, he used to sport a large, bushy moustache. A police inspector burned his moustache with a cigarette end while interrogating him. After that, he chose to stay clean-shaven until his death.
Nallakannu was released after seven years, in 1956. Sankaraiah, with whom he shared a close friendship until the end, had been imprisoned in the “Madurai conspiracy” case in 1946 and released in 1947.
But then the unexpected happened. The split in the CPI in the 1960s caught him off guard. “It was like a sword in my heart,” he once told me. He knew it would be a great disaster for the Indian working class. However, he chose to be with the CPI along with stalwarts K. Balathandayutham, K.T.K. Thangamani, M. Kalyanasundaram, and P. Manickam; his friend Sankaraiah, and others, including P. Ramamurti, R. Umanath, and M.R. Venkataraman chose to be with the CPI(M).
Nallakannu strongly believed that in a country like India, where over half the population lived below the poverty line and faced inhumane social oppression, the need for a united Left movement was critically important. “The Left alone will be relevant for all times,” he said. He was not averse to moves that were initiated later to unify the CPI and CPI(M). “If it happens, it will be good,” he told me once.
A suave and soft-spoken man, who was always clad in a white dhoti and shirt since his freedom struggle days, Nallakannu was no idealist. He believed in the constant mobilisation of the working class and farmers. He did that for two decades as a Kisan Sabha leader. Even after becoming the CPI’s State secretary, which position he held for 13 years, he maintained a close link with the grass roots. The CPI, under his guidance, addressed various issues of public interest, organised protests, and challenged those in power in governance.
The 1990s presented a series of daunting challenges for the global communist movement. The disintegration of the Soviet Union, rise of neoliberalism, the dismantling of public sector corporations, and the dilution of labour laws had a significant impact on the core ideology of Communists in India.
The emergence of right-wing identity politics and Dalit parties further weakened their clout. To retain its relevance among the masses, the CPI and the CPI(M) had to redraft ideological strategies.
In their eagerness to hold on to their political space, both parties became deeply involved in electoral politics, forming alliances with everyone. In 1999, Nallakannu contested the Coimbatore parliamentary constituency against the BJP’s C.P. Radhakrishnan, currently the Vice President of the country. He lost despite securing an impressive 43.21 per cent of the total votes. In the past, he also contested for the State Assembly from Ambasamudram, but was unsuccessful.
Nallakannu, as mentioned earlier, was more of an activist than a politician. Unlike Sankaraiah, whose activities were confined to the boundaries of his party’s political ideology, Nallakannu went beyond it. In the 1980s, he organised a padayatra from Kanyakumari to Chennai to demand the resignation of the then Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi over the Bofors scam. At the age of 95, he personally argued before the Madurai Bench of Madras High Court, hearing a petition against the sand mafia that had been illegally mining sand from the Thamirabarani river, the lifeline of Tirunelveli and Thoothukudi districts. He undertook a fast that lasted nearly 20 days, resulting in the court banning sand mining for five years.
In an era where pomp, wealth, and power dominate modern politics, Nallakannu advocated for a simple and straightforward approach to resistance politics. He was a humble leader who resided in a modest State-allotted house in Chennai, paying a monthly rent for it. Nallakannu and his family survived on a monthly income of Rs.2,500 from his political party, along with a pension of Rs.4,500 that his wife, Ranjitham, a retired teacher, received. C. Mahendran, a senior CPI leader, remarked: “Social change cannot occur without an ideology grounded in austerity.”
Senior Congress leader Peter Alphonse, a fellow traveller in politics, described Nallakannu as the finest human being, full of compassion and concern for the marginalised. “My relationship with him started in my younger days, as both of us hail from the same region. His wife, a Christian, hailed from my place.”
He added: “He was a very simple man with a strong commitment to his ideology. He never aspired for power and wealth, a very rare phenomenon in today’s public life.”
The State government honoured him with the “Thagaisaal Tamilar” (Scholarly Tamil) award in 2022 with a cash prize of Rs.15 lakh. Nallakannu donated the money to the Chief Minister’s relief fund. When he received Rs.1 crore and a car as gifts from his party cadres, he donated them to the party itself.
For 2007, Tamil Nadu Chief Minister M. Karunanidhi chose him for the “Ambedkar Award”.
Dr G.R. Ravindranath, a senior CPI functionary and founder leader of the Doctors Association of Social Equality, who had known Nallakannu since his All India Students’ Federation days, said that his simplicity and sacrifices left a great impression on the youth. “His deep historical knowledge about Tamil Nadu was amazing. He used to share his experiences on the heroic struggles of the Communist movement against feudalism and the caste system,” he added.
Nallakannu’s life of simplicity, honesty, and dignity stood in stark contrast to the morally vacuous modern-day political space. His perception of society and politics was one of hope. He never dwelt in pessimism. When I last met him, we had an engaging conversation about whether the country could overcome anxiety, chaos, hatred, and the deep political divisions thereof. He was optimistic. It is no surprise that even those opposed to Communism always respected him.
But the tragic irony of the entire story here is that a popular and dedicated leader like Nallakannu, who worked for the welfare of the downtrodden, was never elected by the Tamil Nadu people to represent them either at the Centre or in the State Assembly.
As per his wishes, his family donated his body for medical research. He is survived by his two daughters. His wife, Ranjitham, predeceased him.
COURTESY:FRONTLINE
*************************************************************