If there was any lingering doubt about who stands for constitutional order and who thrives on political anarchy, the Supreme Court put it to rest on Thursday—firmly, unequivocally, and publicly. By staying the petitions filed against Enforcement Directorate (ED) officials by the Trinamool Congress (TMC) government, the apex court delivered a stinging rebuke to West Bengal Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee’s unprecedented interference in a lawful investigation. What unfolded in Kolkata earlier this month was not political resistance; it was institutional vandalism. A Chief Minister, flanked by her Director General of Police, the city police commissioner, senior officers and bureaucrats, descended upon an active ED operation at the premises linked to I-PAC. The spectacle was extraordinary—and deeply disturbing. Central agency officials were allegedly obstructed, intimidated, and even accused of theft, while the state machinery closed ranks to shield political interests. The Supreme Court’s observations cut through the noise. The bench of Justice Prashant Kumar Mishra and Justice Vipul Pancholi made it clear that the ED’s plea raises “serious issues” about interference by state agencies in central investigations. The court went further, warning that if such conduct is not examined, it would lead to “lawlessness in the country.” These are not casual remarks. They are constitutional alarm bells. By staying the FIRs lodged by West Bengal Police against ED officials, the apex court effectively signalled what many already knew: the state’s counter-offensive was less about justice and more about intimidation. The court’s emphasis on allowing “each organ to function independently” strikes at the heart of Mamata Banerjee’s governance model—one where institutions are expected to bend before political authority. Adding weight to the rebuke, the Supreme Court issued notices not only to Mamata Banerjee and the TMC government, but also to the Ministry of Home Affairs and the Department of Personnel & Training, while entertaining ED’s plea seeking suspension of Bengal’s top police officers. The implication is stark: when law enforcement becomes a political shield, the rule of law itself is under threat.

This is not an isolated episode. The court itself hinted that this pattern is not new. From shielding accused leaders to weaponising the police force against central agencies, West Bengal under Mamata Banerjee has repeatedly tested the limits of constitutional federalism. Each time, the defence has been predictable—political vendetta, federal overreach, Centre versus State. Each time, the facts tell a different story. Yet, instead of introspection, Mamata Banerjee chose defiance. Even after the Supreme Court’s sharp observations, she doubled down—this time recklessly dragging the Indian Army into the political mud. By making insinuations against the Eastern Army Command and linking the sensitive SIR exercise to alleged illegal immigration and political motives, she crossed another red line. Retired senior military officers were quick to condemn these remarks, warning against politicising and maligning an institution that remains one of India’s last bastions of public trust. This habitual brazenness reveals a troubling mindset: constitutional offices are treated as personal extensions of political power; institutions that do not comply are either obstructed or slandered. Whether it is the ED, the judiciary, or even the armed forces, Mamata Banerjee’s politics appears driven by confrontation, not compliance with constitutional norms. The Supreme Court’s message, however, is unmistakable. No Chief Minister—no matter how powerful or combative—can place herself above the law. Obstructing investigations, intimidating officers, and then unleashing the police to file retaliatory cases is not governance; it is an abuse of state power. West Bengal deserves better than perpetual political theatre that undermines institutions. The Constitution is not a prop to be waved at rallies and discarded in practice. If Mamata Banerjee truly believes in federalism and democracy, the first step is straightforward: respect the rule of law, restrain the state machinery, and refrain from treating constitutional authority as a personal fiefdom. The Supreme Court has knocked on the knuckles. Whether the message is finally heeded—or defiantly ignored—will define not just Mamata Banerjee’s legacy, but the health of constitutional governance in West Bengal itself.
