Political tussle over Kolkata horror

AUGUST 20 was an embarrassing day for the government of West Bengal, which is a part of “India, that is Bharat… a Union of States”. It was almost a ‘knockout’ blow by the Supreme Court, which suo motu (on its own accord/motion) took up the case of the rape-murder of a trainee doctor in a state-run hospital on August 9. The court chided the state for its acts of omission and commission.

Understandably, the Mother Goddess-worshipping Bengalis, true to their spirited tradition of fighting (like their Punjabi brethren) against British injustice and excesses, burst onto the streets against the state government, and sought justice for the victim, thereby showing the whole of India how to democratically and peacefully confront the establishment over a heinous crime committed on its watch.

Article 356 is too complex a provision to have a practical application wherein there is neither any imminent threat of external aggression nor mass internal disturbance.

Thus, while Bengal showed India the art of fighting the establishment for the sake of justice, the Supreme Court endorsed it and took a cue from it. In an unprecedented three-judge Bench order, the apex court sternly emphasised “safety and security of all medical professionals” as “an issue of high national priority” and ordered the state government not to “unleash power of the state on peaceful protesters”.

The first round goes to the role played by the judiciary as the Bengal state machinery fared poorly. Consequently, as it so often happens in Indian polity, the brutal crime prompted the state government’s political opponents to demand the imposition of President’s rule in Bengal under Article 356 of the Constitution. Today, the clamour for justice for the victim has grown into a vociferous demand from the rival quarter for the resignation of Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee. The crime scene has turned into a political hotbed for a blame game and one-upmanship.

Article 356 is about “provisions in case of failure of constitutional machinery in States” wherein “if the President, on receipt of report from the Governor of the State or otherwise, is satisfied… that the government of the State cannot be carried on in accordance with provisions of this Constitution, the President may by proclamation… assume to himself/herself all or any…. functions of the Government of the State”.

It’s a sort of an internal ‘emergency’ power of the federal executive to suspend or override the legislature of the state, even if temporarily. Nevertheless, despite it being an ‘emergency’ power, it has been applied 134 times from 1950 to 2024, thereby giving the impression of its abuse and misuse by the federal government to target political rivals.

BR Ambedkar, the father of the Constitution, was prescient to emphatically express that the scope of the Article would be confined to the sense of “breakdown of the constitutional machinery” and that this was an exceptional provision which should be applied “only in the last resort” (Ninth Constituent Assembly Debate).

Nevertheless, the supercharged reaction of the people of Bengal to the rape-murder criminal law case has the makings of being a catalyst to turn it into a constitutional law case owing to the political rivalry and bitterness between the Central and state actors. Even the Chief Justice of India was constrained to openly advise rival litigants “not to politicise” the rape-murder case.

Be that as it may, Article 356 is too complex a provision to have a practical application wherein there is neither any imminent threat of external aggression nor mass internal disturbance. Nevertheless, the rape-murder case is being cited to seek the CM’s removal and the government’s dismissal under constitutional law. But that’s easier said than done.

Article 356 revolves around the “report from the Governor”. However, the reports of Governors in 134 cases during the past 74 years and the consequential actions of the federal government could have been done in a better way for the development of a healthier and strong democratic tradition.

That’s not all. More important is the fact that Article 356 must be read with other relevant and connected articles — Article 256 (Obligations of States and Union), 257 (Control of Union over States in certain cases), 355 (Duty of Union to protect States) and 357 (Exercise of legislative powers under Proclamation issued under Article 356). Although there are several Supreme Court judgments on Article 356, the Bommai case of March 1994 stands out to stop its rampant ‘misuse’ to provide a salutary check on executive power, entrenching parliamentary supremacy over the executive.

Hence, though Bengal is likely to escape Article 356 today, its establishment ought to avoid past lapses which ruined its reputation. Burdwan’s Sai brothers were lynched by a mob in front of communist leaders, district magistrate and the Superintendent of Police on March 17, 1970. IPS officer Vinod Mehta was lynched in the Calcutta port on the watch of then Chief Minister Jyoti Basu on March 18, 1984. Basu was again the CM when then Opposition leader Mamata Banerjee was attacked by two communist henchmen in front of thousands in Kolkata’s Hazra Park on August 16, 1990. The incumbent Health/Home Minister of the state can do better than what has so far been done or undone. CM Mamata has surely seen it all.

Views are personal