JURIST Senior Editor for Long Form Content Pitasanna Shanmugathas interviews Vijay Prashad, Executive Director of Tricontinental: Institute for Social Research, chief editor of LeftWord Books, and author of forty books including Washington Bullets, Red Star Over the Third World and The Darker Nations: A People’s History of the Third World.

In this interview, Prashad delves into the heart of global politics and resistance movements, beginning with the intellectual debates that shaped modern India and moving through contemporary flashpoints from Syria to Ukraine. Prashad brings his distinctive perspective as both historian and activist to bear on questions of economic justice, international relations, and revolutionary thought. Throughout the dialogue, he challenges conventional narratives while offering nuanced takes on how power operates across different contexts — whether discussing BRICS’s quiet transformation of global trade or the enduring relevance of Marx’s critique of capitalism. Prashad’s most recent book, co-written with academic Noam Chomsky, is titled On Cuba: Reflections on 70 Years of Revolution and Struggle.

This is the first of a two-part interview, which has been edited for clarity and concision.

Pitasanna Shanmugathas: I would like to begin this interview by discussing the deep-rooted systemic issues in your native country, India. Booker Prize-winning author and political activist Arundhati Roy wrote an introduction titled The Doctor and the Saint to The Annihilation of Caste, a historic undelivered speech by B.R. Ambedkar, the principal architect of India’s Constitution and a lifelong advocate for Dalit rights (previously known as untouchables).

In her introduction, Roy critiques Mahatma Gandhi’s approach to untouchability, arguing that it was paternalistic and ultimately preserved the caste hierarchy rather than dismantling it. She contrasts this with B.R. Ambedkar’s more radical vision—one that called for the complete annihilation of caste and demanded separate political representation for Dalits. By romanticizing the Bhangi (scavenger) and framing manual scavenging as “sacred work,” Gandhi promoted what Roy describes as “assimilation,” ensuring Dalits remained socially and economically subordinate despite nominal inclusion

Roy argues that Hindu nationalist leaders, including Modi, embrace Gandhi’s legacy without contradiction, as there was “never much daylight” between Gandhi’s views on caste and those of the Hindu right. Roy highlights how Dalits have been co-opted into Hindu nationalist movements while remaining scapegoats during incidents of communal violence such as the 2002 Gujarat riots. Additionally, she points to the ongoing economic and social exploitation of Adivasi (Indigenous) communities, reinforcing caste and class hierarchies.

What is your assessment of Mahatma Gandhi? Would you agree with Roy that Gandhi’s ideologies have contributed to the rise of right-wing Hindu nationalist politicians like Modi today?

Vijay Prashad: Well, it’s interesting because, in writing that introduction for Verso Books, Arundhati Roy actually drew very heavily on my first book, Untouchable Freedom, and she cites it extensively in that introduction.

My first book, in fact, is a study of the Balmiki community of Northern India, which had been disparagingly called Bhangis—the term you just used a few moments ago. So, a lot of what she argues is drawn from my work. It’s difficult for me to say, “Well, I disagree with her assessment,” because, in many ways, it was my assessment that she was putting forth.

However, I believe she presents the assessment too strongly. The difference between Ambedkar and Gandhi was not as stark as she implies. In fact, both had certain limitations.

Dr. B.R. Ambedkar, also known as Babasaheb Ambedkar, was a classic liberal. He believed in the rule of law and was one of the main architects of the Indian Constitution. He envisioned legal structures as the framework through which Dalits could achieve emancipation. However, because he was an astute thinker, he also understood the limitations of the liberal framework. At the time of drafting the Constitution, he profoundly noted that merely having political equality—legal rights under the law—was insufficient unless accompanied by economic equality. He warned that India’s deep economic inequalities posed a significant danger to its future.

Legal rights, in other words, do not automatically translate into liberation in an unequal society. They still produce unequal outcomes.

Gandhi, on the other hand, was quite interesting because he never fully subscribed to liberalism or the rule of law. Instead, he had a more romantic vision of social organization—one centered on close-knit communities. He was unequivocally against discrimination, but he did not believe caste needed to be eradicated entirely. He envisioned a system of caste without untouchability—an idea that, while seemingly progressive, still upheld the caste hierarchy.

At the same time, Gandhi strongly advocated for economic equality. So, it would be an oversimplification to frame the debate as “Ambedkar good, Gandhi bad.” Both had their limitations in addressing emancipation.

Gandhi’s limitation was his romanticized vision of uplifting Dalits, whom he called Harijans (Children of God)—a term that itself was patronizing. However, it is incorrect to say he stood for the status quo. He actively sought to end untouchability and established the Harijan Sevak Sangh as an instrument to combat it. His approach was limited and half-hearted, but it was still an approach.

Ambedkar, on the other hand, took a decidedly liberal approach but recognized its shortcomings. He understood that merely ensuring equal rights before the law would not be enough to dismantle the deeply entrenched hierarchies of caste. True emancipation required economic and social transformation.

Shanmugathas: B.R. Ambedkar advocated for economic emancipation, but he believed that such emancipation could not happen as long as the caste system remained entrenched. Ambedkar was also essentially coerced into signing the Poona Pact because Gandhi had gone on a hunger strike in response to Ambedkar’s demand for separate electorates for Dalits. Furthermore, Gandhi stated that untouchables should take great pride in carrying feces on their heads because it was their God-given duty. In that sense, I would disagree with your claim that Gandhi did not favor the status-quo caste system.

Prashad: That quotation, by the way, is taken completely out of context. But let’s not get caught up in debating quotations back and forth. Let’s focus on the philosophy behind what Ambedkar suggested.

Frankly, I’m more interested in discussing Ambedkar than Gandhi because Gandhi’s views are entirely anachronistic and have little relevance today. The right wing doesn’t need Gandhi. In fact, they attacked Gandhi; they don’t rely on him to justify their views. Their ideology is rooted in what they consider Sanatan Dharma and similar beliefs. They do not need Gandhi, which is why, firstly, one of their own assassinated him in 1948, and secondly, they continue to disparage him whenever possible.

The Hindu right does not require so-called Hindu liberalism or Hindu romanticism. They have already embraced a hardened, rigid ideology of social hierarchy. While it is not necessarily a traditional Brahminical caste system, the Hindu right has developed its own variant, incorporating different caste alliances and political objectives. It is, in many ways, a middle-caste phenomenon rather than a strictly Brahminical one.

Ambedkar, however, remains a crucial figure in this discussion. Even his advocacy for separate electorates reflects his belief in the electoral system and the principles of liberal democracy—that elections, education, and equal legal rights could bring about emancipation. However, his faith in these structures was tempered by his recognition of economic rigidity and structural inequality.

This is where Marxism presents a challenge to Ambedkar’s ideas. Marxism argues that property rights should not be enshrined in law, as the very foundation of bourgeois democracy—private property and contract law—is itself the problem. Ambedkar struggled with this issue. In his writings, such as Buddha or Karl Marx, he expresses concern over the idea of violent revolution and acknowledges that true social transformation cannot be achieved simply through legal recognition of rights.

Courts, after all, are deeply embedded in the economic system. Those with wealth and power can hire better lawyers, influence judges, and manipulate the political system. Money buys votes, making it difficult for genuinely progressive parties to succeed in elections. Even if Dalits gain access to education, the disparity between public and private education systems means that economic inequality continues to limit true social mobility.

Ambedkar’s vision of liberal emancipation for Dalits repeatedly clashed with economic realities. This struggle also placed him in dialogue with the left. Interestingly, some of Ambedkar’s closest allies were communists. At LeftWord Books, we published the memoirs of those who initially followed Ambedkar but later joined the communist movement while remaining close allies of Babasaheb Ambedkar. Their debates over the limitations of liberalism are fascinating.

That is why I argue that Gandhi is irrelevant to advancing this discussion—his ideas are outdated. Ambedkar, however, remains highly relevant because the liberal framework continues to dominate public imagination.

The limitations of Ambedkar’s ideology emerge at the intersection of Ambedkarism and leftist thought. At LeftWord Books, we also published India and Communism, an unfinished manuscript by Ambedkar. It contains the first two chapters of a book he intended to write, with an introduction by Anand Teltumbde—Ambedkar’s grandson-in-law—who was falsely imprisoned by the BJP government for an extended period and is now out of jail.

Anand’s introduction examines the ideological tension between Ambedkarism and Marxism, highlighting the persistent problem of economic inequality. The belief that elections, education, and legal equality alone can bring about liberation continually runs up against the reality of entrenched economic hierarchies. True emancipation requires economic rights, but Ambedkar, despite his profound insights, could not fully resolve this dilemma due to his faith in the liberal imagination.

Shanmugathas: Shifting gears, I’d like to talk about some contemporary issues. The most significant recent development in the Middle East is the overthrow of Syrian dictator Bashar al-Assad on December 8, 2024. For our readers at JURIST, could you unpack the root causes of the Syrian civil war as well as the legacy of Bashar al-Assad and the Assad family after their five-decade-long rule in Syria?

Prashad: To understand the situation of the Assads, you must look at the tradition of Republican Arab unity in the Arab world. Under colonial rule, the British and the French imposed monarchs on many of these countries. When the Ottoman Empire collapsed, France took control of parts of the northern Levant, including Lebanon and parts of Syria, while Britain took the southern Levant — Palestine, what is today Jordan (formerly Transjordan), parts of Syria, Iraq, and so on. Essentially, they divided the Ottoman Empire among the European victors. In response, Arab nationalism emerged, particularly Republican Arab nationalism. In Iraq and Syria, this took the form of the Ba’ath Party—a kind of Renaissance-inspired Pan-Arabism. Hafez al-Assad, the father of Bashar al-Assad, was deeply influenced by Michel Aflaq, the intellectual architect of the Syrian Ba’ath movement and its vision of Arab nationalism and republicanism.

The Ba’athists believed in creating a secular society, which made sense for Syria — a country with a highly diverse population, including Kurds, Armenians, Sunnis, Shias, Alawites, Druze, and others. Given this complex social fabric, a monarchy or religious government would have been inadequate. As a result, Ba’athist republicanism took hold.

The Assad family comes from the Alawite minority community. While Hafez al-Assad was relatively popular in the early years of his rule, his later years saw economic liberalization, which severely hurt Syria. Additionally, the country faced devastating droughts, some exacerbated by climate change. Turkish businesses also began to dominate the regional market, flooding Syria with their products. Turkey, in many ways, became for Syria what China is to the global market — producing and selling everything from biscuits to household goods. This created economic displacement and instability.

Even before the Arab Spring, there was the Damascus Spring, a movement in which intellectuals and political activists called for a new political system, arguing that the existing structure was failing the people.

When Hafez al-Assad died, his son Bashar — an ophthalmologist with little political interest — was quickly installed as his successor. His sudden departure suggests a lack of real commitment to governing, despite being in power for over 20 years. Unlike his father, who seized power through a military coup, Bashar al-Assad inherited the presidency through straightforward nepotism. He was not a skilled politician and struggled to navigate the demands of various political factions.

When uprisings began against him, they were quickly co-opted by external forces — namely, Turkey and the Muslim Brotherhood. The Turkish government, itself affiliated with the Muslim Brotherhood, played a key role, along with Saudi Arabia and the broader Salafi movement. Out of the chaos in Iraq and Syria, the al-Qaeda offshoot Jabhat al-Nusra emerged. Abu Mohammad al-Julani, the current leader of Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), was affiliated with Jabhat al-Nusra, which was backed by Saudi money and other Gulf state funding.

These fighters established a stronghold in Idlib, in northern Syria. Initially, they collaborated with Turkish-backed Muslim Brotherhood factions, but they eventually turned against and eliminated many of Turkey’s proxies.

At the same time, the conflict in Lebanon had weakened Hezbollah, while Israel frequently bombed Syria, undermining Iranian influence in the region. This created an opportunity for former al-Qaeda-linked forces to march on Damascus.

What is unfolding now in Syria is a terrible scenario. There was a need for change in Syria, but not like this. The current trajectory is deeply concerning. From the very beginning, I warned that gruesome massacres of Alawites were likely. At the time, some dismissed these warnings, but unfortunately, they are now becoming a horrifying reality—something that remains severely under-reported.

Shanmugathas: What is your assessment of current Syrian leader Ahmed Al Sharaa? As you alluded to earlier, an estimated 1,300 people have been killed in Syria’s coastal region, the heartland of the country’s Alawite minority community. Al Sharaa is portraying himself in the media as a unifying figure across all communities. Is there any truth to this? He recently signed a temporary constitution, stating that the country will operate under Islamic law while guaranteeing women’s rights and freedom of expression. What are your thoughts on Al Sharaa and the direction in which Syria is headed?

Prashad: Over the past year, I’ve been reading reports from Israeli think tanks about the situation in Idlib. I was particularly interested in what was happening there because I had met some of the groups at the Turkish border about eight or nine years ago.

What struck me as almost comical was that several Israeli think tanks had conducted reports on the situation in Idlib. Some Israeli scholars even interviewed him—back when he was known as Al Jolani, “the man of the Golan.” Now, Ahmed Al Sharaa has apparently reverted to his original name, with Al Jolani being a nom de guerre. Regardless, he was quite happy to speak with these Israeli scholars and military think tank analysts. That, in itself, was interesting.

The last widely circulated image of him showed him as a classic al-Qaeda fighter—head wrapped in cloth, long beard, everything about his appearance signaling his militant past. But when his forces advanced toward Damascus, CNN aired an interview with him where he appeared completely different—polished, articulate, and measured in his speech.

Clearly, someone had worked on his image. Some PR agency—perhaps Israeli or American, I don’t know—had stepped in and refined his messaging. He suddenly spoke about tolerance, something we had never heard from him just six months earlier.

So, the question is: Who is the real Ahmed Al Sharaa? Was he merely pretending to be an al-Qaeda militant and is actually an Islamic liberal? Or is he pretending to be an Islamic liberal while still holding onto his al-Qaeda ideology?

Time will tell. But I don’t believe such drastic transformations happen overnight. Look, I’m a Marxist—I’ve made that clear for the past 35 or 40 years. If tomorrow I suddenly started speaking like a Trumpian or a constitutional liberal, I would expect people to be suspicious. When people undergo such radical ideological shifts, there should be an explanation.

So why has no one asked Al Sharaa that question? How did he go from being al-Qaeda to this supposed moderate leader? Every press conference he’s held has been extraordinarily well-managed—almost too well-managed.