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By:

Kiran D. Tare

21 August 2024 at 11:23:13 am

Bengal’s Ludwig Erhard

For decades, Swapan Dasgupta made a career of diagnosing India’s political ailments. As a columnist, editor, author and public intellectual, the erudite and scintillating Dasgupta dissected challenged orthodoxies and defended the intellectual traditions of the Indian Right. However, following his new appointment as the new Finance Minister of a West Bengal in economic doldrums, he perhaps faces the most demanding assignment of his career. His supporters however are confident that if there is...

Bengal’s Ludwig Erhard

For decades, Swapan Dasgupta made a career of diagnosing India’s political ailments. As a columnist, editor, author and public intellectual, the erudite and scintillating Dasgupta dissected challenged orthodoxies and defended the intellectual traditions of the Indian Right. However, following his new appointment as the new Finance Minister of a West Bengal in economic doldrums, he perhaps faces the most demanding assignment of his career. His supporters however are confident that if there is anyone most suited to sort out Bengal’s messy economy, it is Dasgupta. His appointment following the Bharatiya Janata Party’s ascent to power in Bengal after overthrowing Mamata Banerjee’s TMC regime is among the more intriguing political transitions in recent Indian political memory. India has seen journalists cross into politics before. M.J. Akbar moved from the newsroom to the Ministry of External Affairs. Arun Shourie, one of India’s most formidable investigative journalists, became a reform-minded minister in Atal Bihari Vajpayee’s government. Others, from Manish Sisodia to Priya Ranjan Dasmunsi and Chandan Mitra, have made similar journeys. Yet Dasgupta’s case is distinctive. Unlike many journalists-turned-politicians, he was never merely a ‘reporter.’ Whether in debate or through his prolific and trenchant writings, he has always been an intellectual combatant, a scholar of political ideas with a sweeping knowledge of world history by which he leavens those ideas. Dasgupta has always been one of the most articulate exponents of modern Indian conservatism. Educated at La Martiniere College in Kolkata, St Stephen’s College in Delhi and later the School of Oriental and African Studies in London, where he earned a doctorate, Dasgupta cultivated a reputation for formidable scholarship. His books, including Awakening Bharat Mata: The Political Beliefs of the Indian Right and The Ayodhya Reference, revealed an uncommon ability to place contemporary political disputes within a broader historical and ideological framework. For his supporters, he was among the few intellectuals capable of articulating conservative ideas in a language usually dominated by the Left. To critics, he was a sophisticated polemicist. Yet, even his opponents seldom questioned the breadth of his reading or the sharpness of his arguments. However, the challenge facing Dasgupta now is no longer intellectual but administrative. The Bengal he inherits bears little resemblance to the state that once led India in industry, commerce and scientific innovation. As he himself quipped in trademark fashion with a sharp historical analogy, the state’s economy resembled postwar Germany. The figures are sobering. West Bengal’s state debt has ballooned to around Rs. 8 lakh crore during the TMC regime. Thousands of companies have relocated or curtailed operations over the years amid a hostile investment climate. The new BJP government has inherited not merely a fiscal challenge but a crisis of confidence. “We are left with a near-bankrupt treasury,” Dasgupta said. Equally troubling, in his view, is the erosion of trust among investors and entrepreneurs. Bengal’s relationship with business has been uneasy to say the least. First the long night of the Left, followed by the TMC’s anti-business, appeasement brand of politics has ensured that the scars of industrial disputes and land controversies remain fresh. In this dire situation, reviving private investment will require convincing businesses that Bengal has changed. In this respect, Dasgupta’s strengths may prove unexpectedly useful. Throughout his career he displayed an ability to engage with ideas, institutions and stakeholders across ideological divides. His early moves hint at a broader vision. Rather than confining pre-budget consultations to Kolkata, Dasgupta shifted the Finance Department’s attention to Siliguri in a moved suffused with deliberate symbolism. North Bengal has long complained of neglect by governments centred on the state’s southern districts. By engaging tea producers, agricultural interests, tourism operators and local business groups, the newly-minted finance minister appears eager to demonstrate that economic revival will not just be a Kolkata-centric project. That said, debt servicing consumes a substantial portion of state revenues. Welfare commitments are politically difficult to unwind and infrastructure deficits remain significant. While public intellectuals excel at identifying problems, governing demands compromises and the acceptance of imperfect solutions. Still, Bengal’s new finance minister possesses as fine an appreciation of history than any Indian politician around. He knows that states decline not just because economic mistakes but because they lose faith in their future. Restoring that confidence may be the central task of his tenure. For years Swapan Dasgupta chronicled India’s political story from the sidelines. Now he finds himself at the centre of one of its most consequential state-level experiments. Whatever the outcome of his tenure, few would deny that Bengal’s finances have acquired perhaps their most learned custodian in decades.

Trust on Trial

Mamata Banerjee’s EVM protest bodes ill for Indian democracy

New Delhi: Mamata Banerjee’s EVM protest spotlights a deeper crisis. When constitutional officeholders question institutions like the Election Commission, it risks eroding public trust, blurring accountability, and weakening democratic legitimacy.


The greatest strength of Indian democracy lies in its institutional credibility, the trust that assures citizens that the systems created by the Constitution are fair, transparent, and accountable. However, when those who occupy constitutional offices themselves begin to publicly express distrust in these very institutions, the issue transcends any single incident or individual and strikes at the legitimacy of the entire democratic framework.


In this context, the events of the night between April 30 and May 1 in West Bengal demand serious reflection. Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee sat for nearly four hours outside an EVM strong room set up at a school in south Kolkata, where voting machines from the Bhabanipur Assembly constituency had been stored. Despite heavy rain, her decision to be physically present at the site, and to raise concerns about a possible “loot” of EVMs and “manipulation” during counting, inevitably raises several troubling questions.


Her statements that “we are ready to risk our lives” and “we can gather 10,000 people at a signal.” Her words go beyond routine political rhetoric. They can be interpreted as a direct challenge to the credibility of India’s electoral process and to an independent constitutional authority like the Election Commission of India. In contrast, West Bengal’s Chief Electoral Officer Manoj Kumar Agarwal clarified that all eight strong rooms (seven containing EVMs and one for postal ballots) were fully sealed, under continuous CCTV surveillance, and accessible for monitoring by political representatives beyond a three-tier security perimeter. He further noted that the postal ballot room had been opened in accordance with established rules, with all candidates duly informed.


At its core, this is not merely a factual disagreement but a deeper constitutional dilemma. When a sitting Chief Minister questions the impartiality of the Election Commission, the implications extend far beyond a single election. Such assertions risk casting doubt over the entire electoral history of independent India. Are we then to believe that democratic exercises over the past 75 years have been a mere façade? That governments, state or national, have been formed through manipulation rather than mandate? Or is this a political strategy aimed at shaping public perception amid electoral uncertainty?


It is true that Mamata Banerjee is a candidate in the ongoing Assembly elections. But it is equally true that she continues to hold a constitutional office. This dual role makes her actions subject to greater scrutiny. The episode raises important questions that can an individual occupying a constitutional office stage protests against the very system they are sworn to uphold? Does such a position not entail a higher degree of institutional responsibility, regardless of political contestation?


This brings us to a broader issue, the definition and responsibilities of a “public servant.” In India, administrative officials, police personnel, and members of the armed forces are prohibited from participating in public protests, precisely because they are expected to maintain institutional neutrality. Yet, elected representatives, Prime Ministers, Chief Ministers, ministers, and legislators, are also paid from the public exchequer. Should they be exempt from similar standards of restraint? If not, do they possess the moral or legal authority to publicly challenge constitutional institutions while in office?


History suggests that this is not an isolated occurrence. Mamata Banerjee herself staged a three-day sit-in in Kolkata in February 2019 against a CBI action. Her protests against demonetisation in 2017 and against voter list revisions in 2024 and 2025 reflect a continuing pattern. Similarly, Arvind Kejriwal held protests in 2014 outside Rail Bhavan and in 2018 at the Lieutenant Governor’s residence. Ashok Gehlot and Bhupesh Baghel also joined demonstrations in Delhi against central investigative agencies while serving as Chief Ministers.


Taken together, these instances reveal a growing pattern, individuals occupying constitutional offices engaging in public protests against institutional processes. This trend blurs the fine line between democratic dissent and constitutional propriety. While dissent is a fundamental democratic right, it becomes problematic when it undermines the legitimacy of the very institutions that sustain democracy.


Another critical concern is the apparent “double standard.” When pension benefits and other privileges for administrative officials are curtailed or withdrawn, why are similar principles not applied to elected representatives, Members of Parliament, legislators, and ministers? If all are public servants, why this disparity in rights and obligations? This is not merely an economic question but one of ethical consistency and constitutional equality.


It is evident that the Indian constitutional framework requires a clearer and more comprehensive articulation of the definition, responsibilities, and limits of public servants. This is not just a matter of legal reform, but of strengthening democratic culture itself. Those who hold constitutional offices are not only expected to exercise power, but also to safeguard institutional dignity and public trust. Democracy does not function on elections alone, but it runs on trust. And when that trust begins to erode, the greatest responsibility lies with those who wield power to restore and protect it.


No scope for wrongdoing

West Bengal Chief Electoral Officer (CEO) Manoj Agarwal on Friday asserted there is no scope for wrongdoing at the counting centres, stating that round-the-clock CCTV monitoring of strong rooms was in place. “One should have reason and evidence for making allegations,” he said, maintaining that the complaints made by TMC spokesperson and Beleghata constituency candidate Kunal Ghosh, are baseless.

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