Former Bengal CM Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee Leaves Behind A Troubled And Dark Legacy

Former Bengal chief minister Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee, who ruled over the state for 11 years since 2000, passed away at his modest South Kolkata residence on 8 August morning.

While his death, like any other, needs to be condoled, there is no looking away from his dark and troubled legacy, as well as the many U-turns and hypocrisies that characterised his public life.

Bhattacharjee, who was a school teacher before he joined active politics, was a dyed-in-the-wool communist. And like all communists who try to repel change and development, he was at the forefront of repeated agitations by the Communist Party of India (Marxist), or CPI(M), opposing computerisation in government undertakings like banks and insurance companies. 

Bhattacharjee, as the state secretary of the CPI(M)’s youth wing, the Democratic Youth Federation of India (DYFI), led many rallies and demonstrations against computerisation in the early and mid-1970s. 

One such demonstration is still remembered by old-timers in Kolkata: communist cadres stormed the office of a state-owned insurance company in central Kolkata and smashed some newly installed computers there.

Bhattacharjee, who was in his late 20s then, declared it a “major victory” against capitalism and for the common man. 

Ironically, after he became chief minister in November 2000, promoting the information technology (IT) and information technology-enabled services (ITES) sectors became his mantra.

In an interview with a foreign publication later on, he termed his earlier opposition to computerisation "foolish.” 

His compatriots also referred to his abrupt resignation from the Jyoti Basu cabinet, where he held the information and cultural affairs and urban development and municipal affairs portfolios, in September 1993 as ‘foolish’. 

Bhattacharjee resigned after differences with Basu, who was his political mentor, over the functioning of the urban development department. He then termed the cabinet a ‘council of thieves’ and also penned an article titled Dushomoy (Bad Times) that lambasted the Basu government. 

But he inexplicably rejoined the same ‘council of thieves’ after a few months, reportedly after he was rebuked by party seniors and told he would be expelled from the party. 

Like all true communists, Bhattacharjee was a trenchant opponent of private capital. His party was singularly responsible for the closure of thousands of industrial units in Bengal and the flight of capital from the state since the late 1960s. 

Throughout the late 1960s and the 1970s, until he became a member of the legislative assembly (MLA) for the first time in 1977 (the year the CPI(M)-led Left Front came to power in Bengal), he led demonstrations and rallies against private capital and took part in picketing and forced closure of many industrial units.

Even as an MLA and a minister, he railed and ranted against private capital as well as industrialists and businessmen, labelling the latter as exploiters of the poor and condemning them. He, along with his comrades, drove out the few industrial units and corporate offices that remained in Kolkata in the 1980s and 1990s. 

Later, when he realised that private investments are necessary to turn Bengal around, he termed his (and communists’) earlier opposition to private capital as ‘foolish’ and 'short-sighted’. 

But his earlier bad ‘karma’ caught up with him, and sustained protests by peasants led to the abandonment of those projects. The peasants’ stirs at Nandigram and Singur were led by his nemesis, Mamata Banerjee. 

The exit of Tata Motors from Bengal sealed the fate of the state’s renewed bid for private capital and investments and also sealed the fates of Bhattacharjee and his party. 

After 34 years of misrule that saw Bengal turning into an industrial graveyard and becoming a backward state with mounting debts, acute unemployment, and dramatic economic degeneration, the Left Front was unceremoniously voted out of power in 2011. 

Many in the CPI(M) still blame Bhattacharjee for being too zealous on private investments and bringing the Left Front rule to an end due to his wrong policies. 

Bhattacharjee, always clad in a spotless white dhoti-punjabi, projected the image of a bhadralok (gentleman). He was projected by his party and Bengal’s craven intellectuals as a scholarly person with refined sensibilities. 

Those sensibilities did not stop him from unleashing the murderous cadres of his party on protesting peasants in Nandigram and Singur. His much-touted gentlemanliness did not prevent him from allowing brutal repression of opposition (mainly Trinamool Congress) functionaries and cadres and even the murder of anyone daring to oppose the CPI(M). 

The CPI(M)’s 34-year rule in Bengal was a reign of terror. CPI(M) strongmen murdered political opponents, raped womenfolk of families of opposition functionaries and supporters, drove tens of thousands of families out of their homes, and indulged in looting and corruption with immunity. 

Bhattacharjee not only remained silent but even justified the atrocities. The barbarism of his party cadres did not offend his so-called bhadralok sensibilities. 

Though the CPI(M) and Bengal’s left-leaning intellectuals like to paint Bhattacharjee as an able administrator and a statesman-like figure, it remains a fact that he was a failure as a chief minister. 

He failed to arrest the downslide in Bengal that started when Basu came to power in 1977. He failed to curb corruption and improve the state’s terrible work culture. He failed to rein in murderous CPI(M) cadres and provide justice to the tens of thousands who suffered atrocities at the hands of those cadres. 

Yes, he led a frugal life and continued to stay in a cramped two-bedroom apartment in a government housing estate even when he became chief minister. He also penned many books and numerous articles and was known for his literary tastes. 

But all those qualities did not make him a good chief minister. Or even a good politician. He will be remembered for his failure to turn the state around, even though he had a golden opportunity to do so. 

Bhattacharjee leaves behind a dark legacy, though maybe a shade lighter than that of his predecessor.

Also Read: Why Jyoti Basu Does Not Deserve A Memorial