The electoral debacle of the Mamata Banerjee-led Trinamool Congress (TMC), which ruled West Bengal for one and a half decades, is being attributed mainly to misrule, including corruption, authoritarian governance, suppression of dissent and violence against women. These charges have certainly harmed the legitimacy of the ruling regime and weakened public confidence in both the administration and the party.Ever since it came to power, the Mamata-led government has repeatedly faced allegations of corruption, with even ministers, senior leaders and bureaucrats going to jail, eroding democratic institutions – such as winning major civic bodies through physical force and often disallowing opposition candidates from contesting – and intimidating opposition parties by capturing party offices, buying elected representatives from other parties, arresting opposition leaders, and the growing centralisation of political authority around a personalised leadership structure centered on Mamata Banerjee and her nephew, Abhishek Banerjee.Such developments have understandably generated discontent among significant sections of the population on the one hand and among party functionaries on the other. Yet reducing the TMC’s disaster to “misrule” alone obscures the deeper social and structural churn unfolding in contemporary West Bengal. Political upheavals are rarely caused solely by administrative failures. Rather, they often emerge from deeper shifts in class alliances, changing social aspirations and the formation of new political coalitions rooted primarily in private interests, often masquerading as collective or group interests.The weakening of a long-sustained political regime, therefore, requires an understanding of broader socio-economic linkages. In the case of West Bengal, opposition to Banerjee increasingly appears to reflect the consolidation of an unusual yet historically significant alliance between the urban middle class, upwardly mobile rural groups and dominant corporate interests. These groups may differ sharply in their social composition and immediate political priorities, but they are gradually converging around a shared discontent centered on redistributive politics and welfare-oriented governance.Consequently, hostility toward the TMC cannot be interpreted merely as a moral reaction against political-economic corruption or administrative failure. It must also be viewed as a response to the changing social balance produced by welfare expansion, the increasing political visibility of marginalised populations – especially Muslims on the one hand (overtly) and women on the other (covertly) – and the symbolic disruption of older hierarchies of class, caste and respectability.Discontent generated by redistributive programmesLet us first take up the discontent generated by redistributive programmes, especially those involving poor women. The urban middle class, in general, has been particularly vocal against schemes such as Lakshmi Bhandar, Kanyashree and similar initiatives. These programmes not only focused on poor and socially marginalised households but also explicitly identified women within these groups as beneficiaries. Their significance lay not merely in the distribution of financial assistance, but in the manner in which they reconfigured the relationship between the state and subordinate social groups and, to some extent, strengthened women’s voices. They carried symbolic meanings associated with recognition, dignity and citizenship.In many households where women historically lacked independent access to money, even modest transfers created new spaces of autonomy and bargaining power. They enabled women to participate more actively in decisions regarding household expenditure, children’s education, healthcare choices and everyday economic negotiations, while also giving them the confidence to question political dynamics, including the visible misrule of the very party – the TMC – that had introduced these schemes.While the TMC was initially seen as a benefactor, thereby securing near-absolute loyalty among poor women, the growth of capabilities and aspirations gradually transformed that benevolence into entitlement, at least among a section of women. In many villages and small towns, women who had rarely experienced the state’s presence except through bureaucratic neglect began to see themselves as rightful claimants rather than passive recipients of charity. In recent years, West Bengal has also witnessed the mobilisation of thousands of working-class women – mid-day meal workers, ASHA workers and others employed in low-paid and highly demanding sectors.However, despite championing redistributive programmes, the TMC government remained largely indifferent to these workers’ demands.In other words, these schemes altered not only material conditions but also social perceptions of women’s roles within the family and society. This affected the TMC in two distinct ways. First, the middle class, which overtly dismissed redistributive programmes as “freebies”, opposed them not merely because they threatened its accumulated socio-economic dominance over the lower classes, but also because they appeared to challenge deeply rooted patriarchal gender relations.Also read: Are They Really Freebies? What the Welfare Debate Reveals About Tamil Nadu’s Political CultureEven “freebies” can be tolerated to some extent; however, their translation into women’s voice and autonomy becomes far less acceptable. Through various mechanisms of opinion-making, therefore, Mamata Banerjee was successfully turned into a political villain in the middle-class imagination.Adding a further layer of irony to the story, the very women who had long voted loyally for the TMC also began to rethink their political allegiance as their aspirations expanded and their awareness of the regime’s failures deepened. Of course, the political climate created by the Bharatiya Janata Party in its own favour – through a combination of conventional, innovative, and at times highly unusual methods – played an important role. Yet one can hardly ignore the dual character of redistributive programmes: they simultaneously generated loyalty and produced conditions for defiance.In short, the middle class, shaped by aspirations for upward mobility, consumption and integration into globalised market cultures, has increasingly internalised neoliberal discourse on the one hand, while also becoming alarmed by the changing status of working-class women, perceived as a threat to patriarchal authority.Rural Bengal and mobility within neoliberal societyAlongside the urban middle class, sections of the rural middle strata have also emerged as important constituents of the anti-TMC political coalition. These groups largely consist of upwardly mobile peasant communities and intermediate castes that have experienced gradual economic – and consequently political – advancement through expanded market opportunities. Historically, many intermediate caste groups occupied ambiguous positions within Bengal’s social structure. They lacked the ritual status and privileges traditionally enjoyed by upper castes, yet often exercised local dominance over poorer labouring populations.Also read: Eerie Commonalities in the ‘Rash’ of Communal Riots in Three Different DecadesEconomic mobility over time enabled many among these groups to seek symbolic proximity to upper-caste Hindu norms and lifestyles. Their aspirations increasingly became tied to notions of respectability, cultural conservatism, and social recognition.While these sections perceived redistributive programmes as a direct threat to their historically entrenched dominance in rural society – especially within a clientelist agrarian structure in which lower-caste day labourers remained dependent on and controlled by middle-caste employers – they also, like their urban counterparts, viewed such programmes as a challenge to patriarchal authority.What further altered their political position, however, and gradually transformed them from local mediators of the TMC into opponents of the regime, was another perceived threat: the emergence of a Muslim middle class in rural Bengal, especially following the publication of the Sachar Committee Report. The findings of the committee had a twofold effect upon Muslims. First, they generated demands for corrective measures to address the deprivation of opportunities faced by Bengali Muslim communities.BJP flags put up in an area in Kolkata, West Bengal, where mostly members of the minority community live. Sunday, May 10, 2026. Photo: Swapan Mahapatra/PTI.Second, they encouraged a range of initiatives within the community itself – such as establishing modern educational institutions across the state – to enhance Muslim capabilities. While the first created greater space for Muslims within local and tertiary-level political structures (with the TMC finding in them both a solid political ally and community negotiators capable of securing decisive votes), the second form of mobility led to the visible rise of Muslim students in higher education, especially in medical and engineering institutions.Simultaneously, the political-ideological configuration of the TMC facilitated the emergence of a range of local political strongmen, among whom Muslims increasingly appeared visible, signalling a shift in local power relations that had long been monopolised by rural middle castes and classes.Within this context, the BJP and wider Hindu-nationalist politics acquired appeal not simply as religious movements, but also as projects of social status, cultural consolidation and the reclamation of dominance in the economic and political sphere.This shift represents a significant transformation in Bengal’s political culture. Historically, the state had been shaped by a strong legacy of Left politics that championed class issues. Trade unions, peasant mobilisations and radical intellectual traditions had long contributed to a political culture in which secularism and class discourse occupied central positions. However, economic liberalisation, agrarian distress, the weakening of organised labour and the decline of Left institutions gradually eroded this ideological framework.In the absence of strong class-based mobilisation, cultural nationalism and majoritarian politics found fertile ground among groups seeking new forms of identity and political belonging. Mamata Banerjee’s overtly pro-Muslim politics – which, despite failing to produce substantial socio-economic advancement for the Muslim masses in general – made it easier for proponents of Hindu nationalism to construct a common enemy for both the urban and rural Hindu middle classes.These groups, in turn, owing to their socio-political influence, were able to expand anti-Muslim sentiment among sections of the lower classes as well. In effect, this produced a coalition of extremes: between culturally and positionally distinct urban and rural middle classes, and between lower-caste rural working populations and their middle-caste employers. The combination was further complicated by the shifting loyalties of working-class women, driven by rising aspirations and an expanding sense of agency.Also read: Why Identity Outweighs Redistribution in Indian DemocracyIronically, all the constituents of this coalition are, to varying degrees, being played to the tune of an invisible hand: corporate capital.Large business interests increasingly favour regimes that ensure stable investment conditions, weak labour resistance and a disciplined workforce. Within such a framework, welfare policies that provide even minimal security to workers and poor households are often perceived as obstacles to labour flexibility and market discipline. Social protection schemes may reduce immediate desperation among workers, thereby marginally increasing their bargaining power and reducing total dependence upon exploitative labour arrangements.Corporate interests, therefore, tend to support political formations that weaken redistributive claims while promoting deregulation, privatisation and flexible labour regimes.SIR, social control and vulnerable populationsThis dynamic becomes especially visible in the moves surrounding governance, citizenship, and mechanisms of social control. Processes such as the Special Intensive Revision (SIR) of electoral rolls and intensified identification drives cannot be understood merely as neutral administrative exercises. In practice, these interventions appear to have served a dual political purpose for the ruling establishment and, in effect, the interests of employers, from corporate to the rural farmers.The first objective was the exclusion of a substantial number of potential supporters of the TMC from the electoral rolls by placing them under so-called “adjudication.” Few developments could be more alarming for a democracy than the effective disenfranchisement of nearly three million voters. It was done through a highly questionable process that marked them as suspected non-citizens.In what amounted to a serious dilution of constitutional guarantees, the Election Commission employed a category termed “logical discrepancy,” while the Supreme Court, by directing the disputes to tribunals, indirectly lent legitimacy to the process, despite the tribunals being capable of resolving only a very limited number of cases.Significantly, however, more than 90% of those voters identified by the EC as “fake” were eventually cleared upon review. Yet the damage had already been done: the world’s largest democracy conducted an election in which a large number of citizens were coercively prevented from exercising their franchise. As subsequent reports suggest, the deletion of names from electoral rolls appears to have contributed substantially to the BJP’s electoral gains in many constituencies.The second objective was even more far-reaching and coercive: the curtailment of limited social security entitlements that marginalised populations had secured through prolonged struggles. Removal from electoral rolls potentially jeopardised access to subsidised ration schemes, employment guarantees, health insurance, educational opportunities, pensions, and other welfare provisions. In effect, such exclusion increases the vulnerability of labouring populations, pushing them further into dependence on private employers and informal labour markets.More troubling still is the possibility that this logic of exclusion may gradually extend to Aadhaar and other documentary regimes through which the unorganised workforce and poorer sections access basic forms of social protection.The SIR and similar exercises, therefore, must be situated within wider political frameworks of regulation, exclusion and disciplinary control. Such mechanisms tend to disproportionately affect populations already marked by precarious documentation, unstable residence, migration, poverty or limited institutional protection, and deepen the existing structures of marginalisation in the name of administrative rationalisation.Taken together, these forces – the economically conservative urban middle class, upwardly mobile rural groups drawn toward Hindu majoritarian politics and corporate interests seeking labour flexibility – constitute a powerful anti-welfare coalition. Their convergence does not necessarily arise from a unified ideological programme, except perhaps around patriarchy. Instead, it emerges from a shared discomfort with redistributive politics, the increasing visibility of marginalised populations in public life and the growing assertion of women’s voices.Welfare schemes become politically contentious precisely because they alter social relationships, redistribute symbolic recognition and generate new forms of political agency among subordinate groups.At the same time, it is important to preserve our vision from being romanticised toward the TMC regime itself. The party has never represented a radically transformative political project aimed at basic capability enhancement through equitable educational and healthcare facilities and the provision of dignified employment, let alone at restructuring class relations or dismantling entrenched systems of inequality. Its governance has long depended upon patronage networks, centralised leadership, selective welfare distribution and forms of political mediation frequently accompanied by allegations of coercion and corruption.In many instances, welfare benefits themselves became embedded within local patronage structures controlled by party intermediaries. These contradictions weakened the emancipatory potential of redistributive policies and contributed to growing public dissatisfaction.Nevertheless, the present moment reveals an important political contradiction. Even limited welfare-oriented politics can generate intense backlash when they are perceived as threatening established hierarchies of entitlement, public resources and social power. The anger directed toward welfare programmes often exceeds objections to corruption itself, because redistribution challenges deeper assumptions regarding who deserves dignity, visibility and state support.The political crisis of contemporary West Bengal must therefore be understood not simply as a referendum on administrative failure, but as part of a larger struggle over citizenship, redistribution, social hierarchy and democratic rights in neoliberal India. Electoral contests increasingly reflect competing visions of society: one that regards welfare and social protection as essential to democratic citizenship and human dignity, and another that prioritises market discipline, cultural majoritarianism and restricted claims upon the state.In this sense, the debate surrounding Mamata Banerjee’s rule extends far beyond the fate of a single government. It underscores the evolving relationship between capitalism, democracy, class power and social justice in contemporary India, where the very meaning of citizenship is increasingly contested between the imperatives of market-driven accumulation and aspirations for a more equitable social order.Kumar Rana is a research-activist.