On Saturday, 12th July, President Droupadi Murmu nominated C Sadanandan Master to the Rajya Sabha. Master has been a school teacher whose legs were brutally severed by CPI(M) goons. Also known affectionately as 'Maash' (Master), Sadanandan teaches at a school in Kerala’s Thrissur district. His nomination carries special significance, serving not only as recognition of his contributions to education and public life but also as a tribute to his extraordinary personal resilience.

Sadanandan came into the national spotlight after surviving one of Kerala’s most brutal incidents of political violence. On the night of 25th January 1994, at the age of 30, he was attacked near his native village of Perinchery by CPI(M) goons. In a shocking display of political vendetta, they hacked off both his legs and left him bleeding by the roadside, a grim warning to those considering a shift in political allegiance.

Notably, Master was earlier part of the CPI(M) cadre, but later he made an ideological shift supporting RSS, following which he was attacked and both his legs were severed. Recalling that horrific night, Sadanandan once shared how fear kept people from coming to his aid. “No one dared to help me,” he said. “It was only when the police arrived, about fifteen minutes later, that I was rushed to the hospital. By then, I had already lost consciousness.”

Yet, that brutal attack did not break his spirit. In 1999, he returned to teaching and continues to serve as a social science teacher at Sree Durga Vilasam Higher Secondary School in Peramangalam. In the years that followed, he also became actively involved with the BJP, contesting assembly elections from the Koothuparambu constituency in both 2016 and 2021.

Like many youngsters in Kerala, Sadanandan was initially attracted to communist ideology in his youth. However, his perspective began to shift as he delved deeper into the writings of the RSS and its philosophy of cultural nationalism. A turning point came when he read poet Akkitham’s article 'Bharata Darshanangal', which left a deep impression on him. In 1984, despite his family's strong Left leanings, with his father, a retired teacher, being a CPI(M) supporter and his brother an active party worker, Sadanandan chose to join the RSS.

In his life story, in his own words, shared by author and social media influencer Shefali Vaidya, Sadanand says:

I grew up in a small village near Mattanur in Kannur district. My father was a Communist Party worker. My elder brother was active in the youth wing of the Party. Naturally, I was raised on a diet of Marxist ideology. After all, Kannur is the ideological laboratory of Kerala’s Communism. The very first Communist thought in Kerala sprouted in the village of Pinarayi in Kannur. Kerala’s current Chief Minister, Pinarayi Vijayan, is from there, and he has himself been accused of political violence. The Communist Party has made it its policy that no other ideology should take root in Kannur.

If anyone even appears to lean towards any other ideology, they are methodically targeted, first through social and political ostracisation, then sabotage of livelihood, and finally, through unthinkable, brutal violence. This is the standard Communist playbook in Kerala. And yet, despite such terrifying opposition, the Sangh established a foothold in Kannur. Youth like me, disillusioned with the thuggery and hollow promises of Communism, began turning towards the Sangh. We had seen firsthand the tireless efforts of the first generation swayamsevaks trying to establish the RSS in every village.

When I was in college, I was active in the SFI (Students’ Federation of India). But by then, it had become clear to me that Communism held no answers to the pressing issues of Bharat. Around this time, I met some RSS workers from my village. Their dedication to the nation, their efforts to find answers rooted in our own soil deeply impacted me. Gradually, I began visiting the shakha. My father did try to dissuade me, but he himself had grown weary of the Communists. Still, he feared for my safety. My former SFI friends, however, were outraged. They tried hard to “bring me back.” But I had seen through the façade—the arrogance, the attraction to violence, the brutal intolerance for opposing thought. I had made up my mind. I dedicated myself to working for the nation.

In our village, RSS workers had built a small bus stop with their own hands. That humble shelter became a symbol of the Communist government’s failure and the Sangh’s quiet strength. In September 1993, the Communists called for a bandh in Kannur. That day, some of their goons came to demolish the bus stop. We received word and rushed to the spot. A scuffle broke out. I was badly beaten. The fact that we dared resist their hooliganism shocked them. Until then, they were used to unquestioned submission. And I, the son of a Communist, now a proud swayamsevak, was a thorn in their eye. They wanted to teach me a lesson I would never forget.

I remember that day with chilling clarity—25 January 1994. I was only thirty. My sister’s wedding was just days away. I was happy. My own engagement had recently been fixed with Vanitha, my classmate from B.Ed. We were in love. We had completed our studies and were dreaming of a future together. We had no idea of what fate had in store. That evening, around 8 PM, I returned to my village by bus. As I got down at the bus stop near my house, they were waiting for me. A party of Communist Party goons. Some of them were my neighbours. I knew them well. There was no personal enmity. Just blind, ideological hatred.

They surrounded me. Some lobbed country-made bombs to scare away onlookers. The street emptied. Then they pinned me down. And with a large, rusty carpenter’s saw, they severed both my legs below the knee. Even today, I cannot forget the excruciating pain. But they didn’t stop there. They flung my severed limbs into the mud. They smeared dung on my bleeding knees—to ensure septic so that the doctors couldn’t reattach my legs. Their job done, they left me there, writhing in a pool of my blood. I lay like an abandoned animal. Alone. Bleeding. Weak. I couldn’t even scream.

By the time the police arrived, I was barely conscious. They, along with fellow swayamsevaks, rushed me to a hospital in the city. Someone picked up my severed legs—not in the hope of reattachment, but to show the doctors the brutality I’d faced. When I regained consciousness the next day, I saw that my knees were bandaged. And below that, there was nothing. Just the gaping silence of absence where my legs had been. That same day, Vanitha came to see me. Her face was wrecked with grief. Summoning all my courage, I told her I was releasing her from all promises. That she shouldn’t marry a cripple like me. Her parents said the same. But she simply shook her head in a firm no.

I spent almost six months in the hospital. Those were the darkest days. I had done no wrong. Why had I been singled out for such agony? Depression sank its pointy claws into me. I contemplated ending my life. But Sangh karyakartas came to visit me daily. They spoke to me. Kept my mind engaged. I would hum shakha songs to myself, trying to gather courage. Through all this ordeal, Vanitha never left my side. Not even once. Her unwavering love, my family’s quiet strength, and the Sangh’s relentless support pulled me out of the abyss. Doctors fitted me with Jaipur Feet.

I slowly began learning to walk again. Every step was a storm of pain. My skin would peel where the artificial foot would rub against it. My muscles would scream. Phantom pain would make me scream. But I pushed through. The day I took four steps on my own, without support, was a celebration not just for me, but for my family, Vanitha, and for every swayamsevak who had stood by me.

It’s been more than twenty years now. I work eighteen-hour days, every day. I teach standing up for hours. I travel by whatever means I can. I’ve forgotten I don’t have real legs. Vanitha and I got married. We built a modest home. We have a daughter, she’s doing her B.Tech. I still work for the Sangh. I have my family’s full support. They now understand the depth of nationalist thought. Even some of the men who attacked me have moved towards the Sangh.

Some of them came and apologised to me later. I don’t hate them. The fault isn’t theirs. It’s their communist ideology that blinded them with hate. Today, I teach young students. I have no desire to pass on the poison of hatred. The Sangh teaches love for the nation, not hatred for any individual or group. I want my students to love this land, this soil. Not imported ideologies with foreign roots. I want them to seek solutions to our problems from our own civilizational wisdom.

Since Pinarayi Vijayan became CM, political violence in Kerala has surged again. What else can one expect from a state where the CM himself faces murder charges? The challenges facing nationalist forces in Kerala are grave. On one side, Communist bloodlust. On the other hand, creeping Islamic fundamentalism. In some regions, unchecked Christian evangelism. And yet, the flame of love for the nation continues to burn in Kerala. After all, this is the land of Adi Shankaracharya. The RSS’s influence is growing—slowly, but surely. I’m confident that in a few years, things will change."

Today, alongside his teaching career, Sadanandan serves as the state vice-president of the National Teachers Union in Kerala. He also edits its publication 'Deshiya Adhyapaka Vartha', and is actively associated with the Bharatiya Vichara Kendram, an intellectual forum linked to the RSS.

He is married to his college friend, Vanitha Rani, who is also a teacher. Their daughter, Yamuna Bharati, is pursuing a BTech degree and is actively involved with the ABVP student organisation. From surviving a horrific political assault to being nominated to the Rajya Sabha, Sadanandan Master’s life stands as a powerful story of resilience, hope, and transformation.

Long-standing hostility towards RSS in Kerala

In Kerala, the RSS has long found itself under constant pressure and threat, most notably from Communist and Islamist groups. This pattern of hostility is not just anecdotal; it has been repeatedly demonstrated through a series of violent incidents. Over the years, several Hindu leaders and RSS functionaries in the state have been attacked or even killed, solely because of their affiliation with the Sangh. This highlights a deep-rooted ideological intolerance in the state.

September 19, 2022 – Murder of RSS leader S.K. Sreenivasan

Kerala police arrested Aboobaker, a member of the Popular Front of India (PFI), in connection with the brutal killing of 45-year-old RSS leader S.K. Sreenivasan in Palakkad district. The murder was described as gruesome and politically motivated.

July 25, 2022 – Death of RSS worker Jimnesh in Kannur

RSS worker Jimnesh died in the Panunda area of Kannur district following a violent attack allegedly carried out by CPI(M) cadres. The incident occurred after RSS swayamsevaks, including Jimnesh, were returning from a Gurudakshina festival on July 24. A confrontation with local CPI(M) members turned violent, resulting in injuries to several RSS workers. Jimnesh was taken to a private hospital in Thalassery, where he succumbed to his injuries in the early hours of July 25.

April 2022 – Broad daylight murder of former RSS instructor

Sreenivasan, a former Physical Education instructor affiliated with the RSS, was hacked to death in broad daylight in Palakkad. The attack shocked the local community and highlighted the dangers faced by RSS workers in the state.

2021 – BJP leader murdered in Alappuzha district

A local BJP leader was murdered at his residence, allegedly by activists of the Social Democratic Party of India (SDPI), the political wing of the Islamist organisation PFI.

The incident occurred in the Alappuzha district, further contributing to the growing concerns over ideological violence in Kerala.

November 15, 2021 – Killing of 26-year-old RSS worker A. Sanjit RSS worker A. Sanjit, aged 26, was hacked to death in Ellapully, Palakkad. The murder was allegedly carried out by SDPI workers. The brutality of the attack once again underlined the high-risk environment for Sangh workers in Kerala.

February 24, 2021 – Murder of R. Nandu

R. Nandu alias Nandu Krishna, a 22-year-old RSS Shakha Mukhya Shikshak, was hacked to death in Nagamkulangara, Wayalar village panchayat, Alappuzha. The alleged assailants were identified as SDPI activists.

May 2018 – Death of RSS worker Shanoj following a retaliatory attack

RSS worker Shanoj succumbed to injuries sustained during a retaliatory clash near New Mahe. The attack followed the death of a CPI(M) worker in Kannur and was part of a series of tit-for-tat violent episodes between ideological opponents in the region.

A particularly controversial revelation came in 2021 when senior Congress leader K. Sudhakaran alleged that Kerala’s current Chief Minister, Pinarayi Vijayan, was once accused of murdering RSS leader Ramakrishnan in 1969. Sudhakaran released a copy of the FIR and claimed that Vijayan was acquitted only because no witnesses came forward to testify.

Many such incidents have been recorded in the media, and several of them are still under legal trials.

The ideological rivalry between communists and the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) has deep roots in India’s political and socio-cultural landscape. The Left, particularly the Communist Party of India (Marxist), has often expressed strong opposition to the RSS, accusing it of promoting what they call "Hindutva majoritarianism."

In Kerala, this animosity has frequently spilled over into street-level conflicts, especially in regions like Kannur, where clashes between CPI(M) cadres and RSS workers have a long, violent history. For the communists, the RSS represents a worldview fundamentally opposed to their Marxist-Leninist ideology, which promotes class struggle and atheism, whereas the RSS stands for cultural nationalism rooted in India’s civilizational heritage.

This deep-seated hostility isn't just political but often manifests as social intolerance, targeted campaigns, and, at times, violent attacks on RSS workers and sympathisers, as seen in cases like that of Sadanandan Master.

Communists supporting armed struggle:

Communists, especially those following Marxist-Leninist ideas, have often supported armed struggle as a way to bring about revolution and create a classless society. Influenced by Marx, Lenin, and Mao, they see violence as a necessary tool to break the power of the ruling class. Indian Communists believe in violence even though they are getting the benefits of a democratic system. In India, this thinking led to movements like the Naxalite insurgency, which treats armed rebellion against the state as a rightful fight in the class struggle.

While mainstream communist parties claim to be operating within the democratic framework, their ideological offshoots, particularly the CPI(M), continue to advocate violent revolution, targeting state institutions, security forces, and political opponents. Even within electoral politics, the communist glorification of class warfare often translates into a tacit acceptance, or ideological justification, of political violence against those they label as "class enemies", including groups like the RSS.

This commitment to armed struggle highlights a core feature of radical leftist ideology: the belief that structural change cannot be achieved through peaceful or parliamentary means alone, but requires forceful confrontation with the existing order.

Communists, particularly CPI(M), often portray themselves as champions of democracy, social justice, and the rights of the working class. In public discourse, they project an image of defending democratic institutions, standing against authoritarianism, and fighting for the oppressed. They claim to uphold parliamentary democracy, secularism, and the rule of law. However, the practical reality has often revealed a stark contrast between these claims and their actions:

In states like Kerala and West Bengal, where communist parties have been in power, political violence against rivals, especially workers of the RSS, BJP, and even Congress, has been a persistent issue. The Kannur political killings in Kerala and the suppression of dissent in West Bengal under Left rule exposed a pattern of silencing opposition by force.

Historically, Indian communists have praised or justified totalitarian regimes like the Soviet Union, China under Mao, and even shown ideological sympathy for dictatorial practices under the banner of proletarian revolution, contradicting their professed commitment to democracy. The ideological wing of communism often romanticizes armed struggle (as seen with the Naxalite movement), advocating the use of force for “people’s revolution,” which stands at odds with democratic principles.

In areas where they wield influence, communists have been accused of creating echo chambers, particularly in universities, suppressing opposing viewpoints under the guise of progressive politics.

While communists project themselves as defenders of democracy, their historical and contemporary actions often reflect authoritarian tendencies, political intolerance, and a troubling comfort with violence when it serves their ideology. This duality between democratic posturing and undemocratic practices forms a key criticism against communist movements in India and worldwide.

Intolerant, undemocratic and violent attitudes have been reflected in Kerala for the past six decades with several RSS volunteers sacrificing their lives for the national cause. Despite this, RSS is rapidly growing in the state of Kerala. At present, there are around 5000 RSS shakhas in Kerala, and it is estimated that by the end of 2025, there will be around 8000 shakhas in the state. This is as good as a tribute to all the RSS swayamsevaks, including Sadanand, who have faced brutal attacks at the hands of Communists and Islamists in Kerala.