The Trinamool Congress (TMC), founded by Mamata Banerjee as a vehicle for grassroots resistance against the Left’s long dominance in West Bengal, now finds itself in a sharp decline. In the 2026 West Bengal Assembly elections, the party crashed from 215 seats in 2021 to just 80, while the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) stormed to power with around 208 seats. This reversal marks not merely an electoral defeat but a deeper organisational rupture. Senior leaders and cadres increasingly point to a “corporate culture” imposed under Abhishek Banerjee, Mamata’s nephew and the party’s National General Secretary, which replaced the TMC’s traditional bottom-up mobilisation with top-down control, data-driven strategies, and area domination tactics.
Mamata Banerjee built the TMC through relentless on-ground presence, personal accessibility, and welfare outreach that connected directly with voters, especially in rural Bengal. Her style emphasised organic local leadership and cadre autonomy. In contrast, Abhishek Banerjee’s approach, amplified after the 2021 victory, sought to professionalise the party via centralised command structures and external consultants. This shift, while delivering short-term gains in 2021 and respectable performance in the 2024 Lok Sabha polls, ultimately alienated traditional workers, bred resentment among veterans, and proved vulnerable when anti-incumbency surged. The model’s collapse became evident in pockets like Diamond Harbour, where heavy reliance on strongmen and surveillance-style control backfired under neutral polling conditions. As internal rifts widen —with low attendance at Mamata’s recent meetings and leaders distancing themselves — the party’s crisis underscores a fundamental truth: corporate-style centralisation cannot sustainably substitute for genuine grassroots politics in a state as politically vibrant and diverse as West Bengal.
Jahangir Khan’s Falta Debacle and the Collapse of the Diamond Harbour Model
The Diamond Harbour Model, closely associated with Abhishek Banerjee’s parliamentary constituency, was projected as a blueprint for efficient welfare delivery and local dominance. It combined doorstep governance — pension camps, health infrastructure, and fast-tracked services — with aggressive area control. Proponents highlighted infrastructure projects like long flyovers and outreach initiatives such as “Ek Daak E Abhishek.” Yet, beneath the development narrative lay a strategy of opposition-free consolidation through strongmen and intimidation.
Falta assembly constituency, falling under Diamond Harbour Lok Sabha, exemplified this model’s limits. Jahangir Khan, a close aide of Abhishek, often seen as emblematic of its enforcement arm, was the TMC candidate. Just 48 hours before the repoll in May 2026, Khan withdrew, citing “peace and development.”
Despite remaining on the ballot, he secured only about 7,783 votes, finishing a distant fourth. The BJP’s Debangshu Panda won by a massive margin exceeding 1.09 lakh votes. This outcome, under heightened Election Commission scrutiny and central forces ensuring fair polling, exposed how the model depended on unchecked local pressure rather than organic support.
When voters could exercise choice without fear, many who had earlier backed TMC turned against it. Reports of surveillance, silencing of dissent, and reliance on muscle power unravelled. The model, once touted for replicating statewide success, failed spectacularly as anti-incumbency and cadre fatigue overpowered enforced loyalty. Unlike Mamata’s organic connect, which weathered multiple challenges through personal credibility, Abhishek’s experiment proved brittle when its coercive underpinnings were neutralised.
The Shift to Centralised Control
Abhishek Banerjee’s ascent as National General Secretary accelerated a corporate-style overhaul that sidelined veteran grassroots organisers. Unlike leaders such as Mukul Roy or Suvendu Adhikari, who rose through local networks and mass mobilisation, Abhishek emphasised hierarchical decision-making from offices in Camac Street and district headquarters.
Post-2019, when TMC faced defections, Abhishek brought in Indian Political Action Committee (I-PAC), initially led by Prashant Kishor, to engineer the 2021 turnaround. After Kishor’s exit, control shifted to other I-PAC founders, embedding data analytics, ticket strategy, and messaging under Abhishek’s oversight.
This centralisation stripped local leaders of autonomy. Organisational decisions, once shaped by district committees and long-time workers, now bear Abhishek’s stamp, monitored through parallel structures. Grassroots politicians felt marginalised as power concentrated at the top. Mamata Banerjee, known for her accessibility, became insulated by layers of filters. Traditional cadres, who thrived on direct engagement, found themselves reporting to external consultants rather than influencing policy or candidate selection.
The result was a party increasingly detached from its base. While this approach delivered a 2021 victory by professionalising campaigns, it eroded the organic loyalty that defined TMC under Mamata. Veterans who built the party through street fights and village-level organising grew resentful, viewing the new culture as alien and unaccountable. Centralisation, intended to prevent defections, instead accelerated internal alienation by prioritising loyalty to the apex over local realities.
I-PAC’s Enduring Influence and Cadre Resentment
I-PAC remained deeply embedded post-2021, influencing tickets, media narratives, messaging, and even day-to-day access. Ticket distribution, previously a collective exercise involving Mamata, state president Subrata Bakshi, and senior leaders, tilted heavily towards Abhishek and I-PAC inputs.
Insiders allege this process created rifts, overlooked local aspirations, and fostered miscommunication. A barrier emerged between ground-level workers and top leadership, hindering feedback loops that once kept Mamata attuned to the grassroots pulse.
Traditional TMC cadres, accustomed to fluid, leader-driven politics, chafed under what they saw as an unaccountable parallel apparatus. I-PAC’s role in candidate vetting and strategy bred accusations of favouritism and corruption in selections. While data-driven methods helped in targeted outreach, they could not replace the emotional and relational bonds Mamata cultivated. Over-dependence on consultants distanced the party from its core strength: a vast network of local organisers who mobilised voters through personal ties and community presence.
This influence persisted despite growing criticism, turning I-PAC into a lightning rod for post-poll blame. Leaders argued that the consultancy’s dominance destroyed organisational depth, replacing committed workers with temporary, top-down executors. The resentment culminated in open distancing, as many felt the party had become a corporate entity rather than a people’s movement.
The 2026 Debacle: When Top-Down Tactics Met Anti-Incumbency
By 2026, the cumulative effects of centralisation and area control proved fatal. Strongman tactics and surveillance alienated cadres, while corruption allegations against local enforcers did not reach the top. Anti-incumbency, built over years of governance challenges, overwhelmed the model. TMC’s vote share dropped, and its seats plummeted to 80 against the BJP’s surge.
The Falta rout served as a microcosm: under free and fair conditions, enforced dominance evaporated. Post-poll, Abhishek faced a mob attack in Sonarpur with minimal local TMC support around him, highlighting isolation. A subsequent meeting called by Mamata saw drastically low attendance from MLAs, signalling widespread disillusionment.
Mamata’s grassroots TMC succeeded by empowering local voices and maintaining direct connectivity. Abhishek’s corporate experiment, while innovative in execution, failed to nurture that base. It created a top-heavy structure ill-equipped for organic political battles. As the party navigates opposition, rebuilding requires reclaiming the accessibility and cadre empowerment that defined its rise—lessons from a centralisation that promised efficiency but delivered detachment. The Diamond Harbour Model’s fall reaffirms that in Indian democracy, especially Bengal’s, no amount of corporate strategy can fully eclipse the power of rooted, people-centric politics.
Sayantan Ghosh teaches journalism at St. Xavier’s College (Autonomous), Kolkata. He is on X as @sayantan_gh.
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