In May last year, Mamata Banerjee toppled the Communist behemoth that had ruled West Bengal for 34 years. Many within the state had grand hopes of its industrial, economic and social renewal after over three decades of industrial stagnation, political unrest and capital flight. Some, however, had expressed early concerns about a chief minister who, in an earlier incarnation as a political agitator, had undermined the one major industrial investment that might have come to fruition in the state, namely, the Tata Nano plant. Despite her role in thwarting this industrial venture, weary of the greyness of Communist domination, even her critics were prepared to grant her some leeway.

Sadly, as Ms Banerjee’s government nears a year in office, the grand hopes of paribartan (“transformation”) that she and her party, the Trinamul Congress, had promised the hapless citizenry of the state, have yet to be borne out. Obviously, her government is not to blame for the fiscal mess that it inherited. The flagrant disregard for the soundness of the state’s exchequer under Communist rule is well known. Consequently, she did inherit a state with empty coffers and has had to turn to the Central government to rescue it from its parlous circumstances. Nor can she be blamed for the state’s crumbling infrastructure or its endemic law and order problems. The Communists had done little to tackle infrastructure and had flung a loose rein to the maintenance of political order.
Even if one is prepared to concede all these unfortunate bequests of the preceding regime, Mr Banerjee’s behaviour while in office has provided little reason for optimism for the future. In her initial days as chief minister, Ms Banerjee made a series of much-publicised surprise visits to public hospitals and other state-run facilities. Finding serious shortcomings in such public institutions she upbraided and hauled up the responsible administrators. Such displays of concern had also raised some hopes that she would finally bring some order, discipline and even responsiveness to a range of public service entities.
Alas, those hopes are now being steadily dashed. In recent months Ms Banerjee has displayed a disturbing propensity to weaken the fractured rule of law, she has sought to attribute failures of governance to the past regime and she has wreaked havoc on the UPA coalition in pursuit of populist ends. Every one of these choices will have critical consequences not merely for the future of West Bengal but indeed for the nation as a whole. A handful of examples will amply illustrate these troubling trends.
In late February, her nephew, after allegedly assaulting a policeman, managed to avoid arrest for the better part of the day. Only when television channels publicised the event did the chief minister issue an order for his arrest and those of his associates who may have been involved in the incident. This, however, was not an isolated event. Earlier in the year Ms Banerjee had apparently asked the Kolkata Police to evict hawkers who had long illegally occupied precious pavement space. However, when the police chose to carry out her instructions and the hawkers resorted to a public demonstration, the chief minister quickly rescinded her initial order. However, the most egregious failure of her regime was its colossal mishandling of the alleged rape of a young woman who had left a pub located on the city’s fashionable Park Street late at night. The chief minister initially claimed that the allegation of the rape had been fabricated to “malign” her government. Worse still, a member of her Cabinet had sought to cast aspersions on the victim’s character. Once again, media attention as well as the cries of social activists placed a suitable spotlight on the case and made the regime backtrack on its feckless statements.
These episodes demonstrate that despite loud claims of bringing about a new political order many of the problems that had plagued the state remain very much in place. Such shortcomings are distressing enough. However, the mercurial chief minister’s political choices at the national level are also exacting significant costs and weakening the UPA coalition’s future. It was her intransigence towards the opening of the country to multi-brand retail that led the UPA regime to shelve its plans. Similarly, much-needed reforms of pension plans also fell victim to her political vagaries.
Interestingly enough, having held the Central government hostage to her whims, she is now increasingly exercising her political muscles. A minor and vital increase of railway fare in the latest Railway Budget incurred her wrath. Cognisant of her political clout she ensured the resignation of the railway minister, Dinesh Trivedi, and replaced him with Mukul Roy, someone whom she no doubt deems to be more pliable.
Her behaviour both at the state and Central levels raises serious questions about her understanding of the significant and baneful political and economic consequences of her choices. The populist cards that she has repeatedly played may well bolster her political fortunes in the state in the immediate term. However, they will do little to ameliorate the dire fiscal woes of West Bengal or its appalling law and order situation. Nor, for that matter, will the irresponsible exercise of her veto over pressing national legislation enable her to either garner a national standing or position an increasingly wobbly UPA regime from finding its feet before the next general election. Sadly, there is little reason to believe that she will mend her ways anytime soon.

The writer holds the Rabindranath Tagore Chair in Indian Cultures and Civilisations at Indiana University, Bloomington