West Bengal's forthcoming Assembly election is best understood not as a conventional democratic contest, but as a struggle over political permanence in a state where power has historically been exercised through dominance rather than alternation. Unlike Kerala's negotiated pluralism or Assam's institutional consolidation, Bengal's politics operates through a far more visceral grammar: control of the street, command over local institutions, narrative ownership, and the ability to convert elections into referendums on authority itself. The 2026 election will therefore be less about governance metrics and more about whether the ruling Trinamool Congress can convert its formidable grip on the state into a durable, generational political settlement.
The Trinamool Congress enters this election as the most deeply entrenched political force Bengal has seen since the later decades of the Left Front. Its dominance is not merely electoral; it is organisational, social, and cultural. Over the past decade, TMC has replaced the Left as the primary intermediary between the state and society. From local clubs and syndicates to welfare distribution and informal dispute resolution, political presence is woven into everyday life. This produces a form of incumbency that is difficult to dislodge because it is experienced less as a government and more as a system. For a large segment of voters, especially in rural and peri-urban Bengal, political loyalty is tied not to ideology but to access, protection, and continuity.
Central to TMC's strength is its command over street authority. Unlike states where electoral competition is mediated primarily through institutions, Bengal's politics remains intensely physical. Cadre presence, neighbourhood vigilance, and the capacity to mobilise or demobilise participation on polling day remain decisive. This does not negate voter agency, but it shapes the conditions under which agency is exercised. High turnout in Bengal often coexists with limited electoral fluidity, particularly in constituencies where local power structures are tightly aligned with the ruling party.
At the same time, the TMC's dominance is not without strain. Corruption scandals, especially those involving recruitment and welfare-linked irregularities, have punctured the party's moral narrative, particularly among the urban middle class and educated youth. Economic stagnation, the flight of industry, and limited private-sector job creation have created a quiet but persistent dissatisfaction that cannot be dismissed as elite noise. However, this discontent remains fragmented and socially uneven, lacking a unifying political vehicle capable of translating grievance into electoral momentum.
The BJP, which emerged as the principal challenger in 2021, finds itself at a strategic crossroads. Its earlier surge was driven by a potent mix of anti-incumbency, identity mobilisation, and central leadership projection. Since then, the party has struggled to convert momentum into organisational depth. Defections, leadership incoherence, and the absence of a credible state-level face have eroded its capacity to sustain pressure on the ground. More importantly, the BJP has found it difficult to penetrate the deeply localised power networks that underpin TMC dominance. In Bengal, electoral success requires not only vote share but territorial embeddedness, something the BJP has yet to fully achieve.
Identity politics nonetheless remains a significant undercurrent. The BJP continues to mobilise around religious polarisation, border anxieties, and nationalistic framing, particularly in northern Bengal, parts of Junglemahal, and select urban pockets. These narratives resonate with sections of the electorate, but they also encounter limits in a state where linguistic and cultural identity often supersedes pan-Indian ideological appeals. The TMC's counter-narrative of Bengali pride, regional autonomy, and resistance to "outsiders" has proven remarkably resilient, especially when reinforced by welfare schemes and cultural symbolism.
The Left-Congress alliance occupies a paradoxical position. Socially, the Left's ideological legacy still commands respect, particularly among older voters and intellectual circles. Organisationally, however, it has been hollowed out. Cadre erosion, loss of territorial control, and decades out of power have reduced the Left to a marginal force in many constituencies. The Congress, meanwhile, remains regionally confined and structurally weak. Their alliance may improve vote shares in select areas, but under first-past-the-post conditions, it is unlikely to translate into significant seat gains unless accompanied by a dramatic collapse of either TMC or BJP support, which appears improbable at present.
When Bengal's Assembly map is examined realistically, approximately 160 to 170 seats appear firmly within the TMC's structural advantage. These include vast stretches of rural Bengal, peri-urban belts, and constituencies where welfare delivery, local leadership, and organisational control converge. Another 30 to 40 seats can be considered competitive, primarily in northern districts, border areas, and select urban constituencies such as parts of Kolkata, Howrah, and Asansol. It is in these seats that the BJP retains relevance, though its ability to convert competitiveness into victories remains uncertain.
The role of money, muscle, and media in Bengal is both overt and normalised. Campaign spending is extensive, but more critical is the control over local political economies. Muscle power, while often exaggerated in national discourse, functions less through overt violence and more through signalling and deterrence. Media ecosystems are sharply polarised, with narrative battles often reinforcing existing loyalties rather than reshaping them. In such an environment, elections tend to ratify prevailing power structures unless disrupted by extraordinary events.
Looking ahead, the most probable outcome of the 2026 election is a renewed TMC mandate, possibly with a reduced majority but still comfortably above the threshold required to govern. A dramatic BJP resurgence cannot be ruled out entirely, particularly if national political currents intensify polarisation, but it would require organisational reconstruction on a scale not currently visible. A fragmented verdict appears unlikely given the asymmetry of power on the ground.
The deeper significance of West Bengal 2026 lies in what it reveals about Indian federal politics. Bengal represents a model where regional dominance coexists with democratic form, where elections are competitive in theory but hierarchical in practice. Whether this model can sustain legitimacy over the long term, especially amid economic pressures and generational change, remains the larger question. For now, Bengal's politics is less about change and more about the consolidation of a uniquely localised form of power, one that draws strength from history, identity, and an unrelenting grip on the street.
[Major General Dr. Dilawar Singh, IAV, is a distinguished strategist having held senior positions in technology, defence, and corporate governance. He serves on global boards and advises on leadership, emerging technologies, and strategic affairs, with a focus on aligning India's interests in the evolving global technological order.]
