Kamal Ghorui
Although elections were held across five states and Union Territories, the nation’s—indeed the world’s—eyes were fixated on West Bengal. Some were hopeful, some were worried, but everyone was watching.
A BJP win was on the cards. A wave wasn’t. That’s what has caught everyone off guard.
So what changed?
To understand that, you have to go back to 2021.
The West Bengal Assembly elections of 2021 weren’t just tense—they were bloody. Nearly 300 incidents of violence, 58 deaths during the election cycle, and Bengal accounted for over half of India’s election-related fatalities in that period.
And then came the post-result violence. Political workers were targeted. Homes were attacked. People fled. That memory doesn’t fade. It stays. And it shapes behaviour. Because Bengal has, for years, operated on a simple, brutal template:
Vote, but only for us.
If you go, vote for others, and we will know who you voted for.
If you didn’t vote for us, we will find you.
Now put yourself in that voter’s shoes. Even if you dislike the ruling party, do you take that risk? Or do you vote “safely”? That’s how democracy gets subverted—not by changing laws, but by changing behaviour.
There were other methods too. Local intimidation. Pressure on polling officials. Even attempts to interfere at booths—down to ensuring opposition symbols aren’t clearly visible. If you don’t see the symbol, how do you vote?
And then there is the deeper structural problem. A very senior IPS officer told me—over 70% of complaints don’t even get registered. A typical thana may have barely 15 constables. That’s often the number of IPS officers who have at their residences. But alongside them? 300–400 “civil volunteers”—paid by the state, politically aligned, embedded for years.
Do the math. An SHO with 15 constables versus an ecosystem of hundreds aligned to one side, “assisting” the thana in charge. Who really runs the system? In such a setup, neutrality isn’t just difficult—it is rendered ineffective.
And then came SIR.
The Special Intensive Revision of electoral rolls became a flashpoint. On the face of it, it was a technical exercise—clean up the voter list, remove duplicates, weed out bogus entries. But the sharp, almost desperate opposition to it told its own story.
Because if your political strength rests even partially on inflated or manipulated voter rolls, a clean-up is not administrative—it is existential.
SIR did two things simultaneously. It signalled intent—that the system was being tightened. And it triggered panic—that the old levers may not work as effectively anymore.
Even the perception that bogus or duplicate voters could be identified and removed changes behaviour on the ground.
So, what changed this time, other than, of course, SIR?
END OF ARTICLE
