Most thinkers of the freedom struggle asked one question: how do we get the British out? M.N. Roy asked a different one: who actually owns India, and who profits from keeping it the way it is? In his 1922 work India in Transition, Roy turned the lens away from the drama of foreign rule alone and onto the economic machinery beneath it. The result was arguably the first systematic Marxist analysis of Indian society, and it remains one of the boldest readings of the national movement ever attempted.
Table of Contents
- Why Roy read India through a Marxist lens
- Did India even have feudalism?
- Exploitation from two directions
- Foreign capital
- Indian capital
- The rise of a “distorted” capitalism and a new working class
- Why militant mass action, not civil disobedience
- A radical programme for the Congress
- The land question
- Modernising agriculture and industry
- Nationalisation and workers’ rights
- What Roy got right, and where he overreached
- Why this still matters
Why Roy read India through a Marxist lens
Roy came to Marxism as a convert, and he applied it with conviction. India in Transition was his attempt to use what he called the “exact science” of historical materialism to dissect British imperialism and Indian nationalism together. For Roy, political slogans meant little until you understood the economic forces driving them. He insisted that real change in society follows from changes in its material base, not from moral appeals or changes of heart.
This put him at odds with most nationalist leaders of the day. Where the Congress framed the struggle as the nation versus the foreigner, Roy argued that “the nation” was not a single unit at all. As he put it in his programme for the Congress, the nation is divided into classes with conflicting interests, each believing that independence will solve its own grievances. That single insight reorganises everything that follows.
Did India even have feudalism?
One of Roy’s more controversial claims was about Indian history itself. He argued that India was not held back by a living feudal system. Instead, he believed feudalism had already been broken down, partly by a rising local trading class and increasingly by the dominance of British capital over the whole economy. Industrial capital, in his reading, only really emerged under colonial rule. This view drew sharp criticism, but it served a purpose: it let Roy locate the central problem in capitalist exploitation rather than in some leftover medieval order.
Exploitation from two directions
The heart of India in Transition is its claim that ordinary Indians were being squeezed by two sets of exploiters at once, not one.
Foreign capital
The first was British imperial capital. Roy held that imperial domination had produced economic ruin, industrial stagnation, and social decay across India. The wealth extracted by the colonial system flowed outward, leaving the population poorer. This was the part of his analysis that overlapped with mainstream nationalism, which also blamed the British for India’s poverty.
Indian capital
The second exploiter was the part most nationalists preferred not to discuss: India’s own landlords and capitalists. Roy argued that the native landowning and moneyed classes had no deep quarrel with British rule because their property and profits were protected under it. They preferred “peaceful and constitutional” methods precisely because a sudden upheaval might disturb the order that kept their estates and businesses safe. In Roy’s blunt words, the apostles of caution were effectively accomplices of the British in keeping the country enslaved. He saw the theory of “equal partnership in the British Commonwealth” as a gilded version of imperialism, designed to buy off the Indian upper classes with a junior share in exploiting everyone below them.
The rise of a “distorted” capitalism and a new working class
Roy argued that capitalism in India had developed in a warped, incomplete way. It was not the full industrial capitalism of Britain, but a stunted version shaped to serve imperial interests. Yet even this distorted capitalism produced something new and significant: an urban proletariat, a class of factory and city workers concentrated in places like Bombay, Calcutta, and the major mill and railway centres.
For Roy, this class was the key to everything. He went further than most Marxists of his time in weighting its importance. In his famous debate with Lenin at the Communist International, Roy argued that India’s weak bourgeoisie meant the working class was relatively stronger and could lead the anti-colonial struggle largely on its own. Critics, including the IGNOU study material on Roy, note that he likely exaggerated the size and readiness of this class and underestimated the peasantry. But the emphasis was deliberate. Roy wanted to shift the centre of gravity of the freedom struggle from elite bargaining to mass economic power.
Why militant mass action, not civil disobedience
This analysis led Roy to a sharp break with Gandhian strategy. The Congress under Gandhi favoured non-violence and, after the violence at Chauri Chaura, suspended the Non-Cooperation Movement. Roy saw this as a betrayal of momentum. He observed that peasants had responded enthusiastically to slogans of non-payment of rent and taxes because those corresponded to their economic needs, only for the leadership to pull back and ask them to respect the rights of landlords and private property.
In place of cautious civil disobedience, Roy advocated militant mass action: organised strikes, peasant unions, tax refusals, and sustained pressure built around the everyday grievances of workers and cultivators. His reasoning was strategic, not merely fiery. Abstract talk of freedom left ordinary people indifferent. But fights over rent, wages, and prices were immediate and real. By standing with people in those struggles, he believed, the movement could build genuine revolutionary consciousness from the ground up and grow into a force the colonial state could not contain.
It is worth noting how far this took him from his peers. While Lenin saw Gandhi as playing a progressive role, Roy regarded Gandhi as a reactionary on social and economic questions, even as he respected the energy Gandhi brought to the independence movement.
A radical programme for the Congress
Roy did not stop at criticism. On the eve of the 1922 Gaya session, he sent the Congress a detailed programme, trying to give the movement a concrete economic agenda rather than the “vague abstraction” he felt swaraj had become. Several of his proposals were strikingly radical for their time.
The land question
Roy’s programme called for the abolition of landlordism, with large estates to be confiscated without compensation and ultimate ownership of land vested in the national state. Only those actually working the land would be allowed to hold it. Land rent was to be reduced to a fixed minimum to improve the cultivator’s condition, and state agricultural cooperative banks would free peasants from the grip of moneylenders.
Modernising agriculture and industry
He proposed direct state aid to bring modern methods into agriculture, with machinery sold or lent to cultivators on easy terms through cooperative banks. Modern industries were to be developed under state supervision, signalling that Roy wanted economic transformation, not just a transfer of political power to the same propertied classes.
Nationalisation and workers’ rights
The programme demanded the nationalisation of public utilities, mines, railways, telegraphs, and inland waterways, to be operated by the state for public benefit rather than private profit. Alongside this came a sweeping set of labour rights: an eight-hour working day, legally fixed minimum wages, the right to strike, workers’ councils in major industries, and insurance against old age, sickness, and unemployment. He also pushed for free and compulsory education, full rights for women, and separation of the state from religion.
Read today, much of this programme looks like a blueprint for the welfare and planning ambitions that later shaped independent India’s policy debates. Roy was sketching the economic content of freedom decades before it became mainstream conversation.
What Roy got right, and where he overreached
Roy’s analysis was genuinely ahead of its time in insisting that political independence without economic transformation would simply hand power to a new set of exploiters. He forced a conversation about class that the national movement was reluctant to have. His attention to the urban worker and the exploited peasant added a dimension that purely political readings of the freedom struggle missed.
Yet scholars point to real weaknesses. By applying Marxist categories developed in industrial Europe to a colonial society, Roy arguably failed to fully grasp how different India’s situation was. He overstated the strength and readiness of the small urban proletariat, was sceptical of the peasantry’s revolutionary potential, and dismissed the national bourgeoisie as an ally too quickly. His prediction of an imminent proletarian-led revolution did not match the actual course of events. Interestingly, Roy himself later moved away from this orthodoxy, eventually rejecting rigid economic determinism in favour of his philosophy of radical humanism, which placed the free individual rather than the class at the centre.
Why this still matters
India in Transition endures because it asks questions that outlast the answers Roy gave. Who benefits from a given political arrangement? Does changing the rulers change the structure of exploitation, or just its management? When a movement claims to speak for “the nation,” whose interests is it actually serving? These are not museum-piece questions. They surface every time we debate land rights, labour protections, the role of the state in the economy, or the gap between formal freedom and economic security.
Roy’s value lies less in the certainty of his Marxism and more in his refusal to accept comfortable national myths. He insisted that freedom had to mean something material for the cultivator and the worker, not just a new flag over the same old hierarchy.
What do you think? Was Roy right that political independence without economic transformation would simply replace foreign masters with domestic ones? And in a society as layered as ours, can any movement honestly claim to represent the whole “nation” at once, or is class conflict always lurking beneath the surface?
Leave a Reply