When a sitting chief minister physically intervenes during an enforcement action by a central investigative agency, removes files from the premises under search, and publicly dares constitutional authority to act, the issue ceases to be one of politics. It becomes a constitutional crisis.
The recent episode involving Mamata Banerjee obstructing an Enforcement Directorate (ED) raid at the residence of I-PAC chief Prateek Jain in Kolkata marks not merely a new low for West Bengal, but a dangerous rupture in India’s federal compact. It raises a question that New Delhi has carefully avoided asking aloud for years: has constitutional governance in West Bengal collapsed to a degree that warrants the invocation of Article 355, or even Article 356, of the Constitution?
This is not about partisan rivalry. It is about whether the Union of India can continue to tolerate a state being run as a personal fiefdom, where the authority of the Centre, constitutional bodies, and even the rule of law itself is treated as optional.
From Political Defiance to Constitutional Defiance
Federalism in India is not a loose confederation of competing sovereignties. It is a constitutionally integrated system in which states enjoy autonomy, but within the framework of a single sovereign republic. That distinction matters.
Over the past several years, West Bengal has increasingly behaved as if it were a quasi-independent political entity, with its chief minister projecting herself as the final arbiter of legality, legitimacy and authority within the state. The Centre is portrayed not as a constitutional partner but as an external aggressor. Central agencies are depicted as hostile forces. National institutions are routinely delegitimised.
The obstruction of an ED operation is therefore not an aberration; it is a continuation of a pattern. From open defiance of the Border Security Force on fencing along Bangladesh borders, to resistance against the Election Commission’s statutory exercises of SIR, to repeated public exhortations encouraging bureaucratic non-cooperation with central authorities, the message has been consistent: Delhi’s writ does not run in Bengal unless the chief minister permits it.
That posture directly contradicts the Constitution.
Article 355 vs Article 356: Understanding the Constitutional Tools
To assess whether the situation meets the constitutional threshold, we must first understand the fine print of Article 355 and Article 356, the two provisions often conflated, but fundamentally different in intent and consequence.
Article 355 imposes a duty on the Union government. It obligates the Centre to ensure that every state is governed in accordance with the Constitution and to protect states against internal disturbance and external aggression. Crucially, Article 355 does not suspend an elected government. It empowers the Centre to intervene through directions, deployment of forces, administrative oversight, or other corrective measures without dissolving the state government.
Article 356, by contrast, is the most drastic constitutional remedy available: President’s Rule. It is triggered when the President, on receipt of a report or otherwise, is satisfied that the government of a state cannot be carried on in accordance with the Constitution. This results in the suspension of the elected government and the transfer of executive authority to the Union.
In short, Article 355 is corrective and supervisory; Article 356 is punitive and substitutive.
The critical question, therefore, is not whether Article 356 is politically desirable, but whether constitutional governance in West Bengal has already failed.
Has ‘Constitutional Machinery’ Broken Down?
The Supreme Court, particularly in the landmark S.R. Bommai judgment, made clear that Article 356 cannot be invoked merely for political disagreement or administrative inefficiency. There must be a demonstrable breakdown of constitutional machinery.
What constitutes such a breakdown?
It includes:
- A state government obstructing constitutional or statutory authorities.
- Failure to maintain public order.
- Defiance of binding constitutional obligations.
- Use of executive power to shield criminality.
- Persistent refusal to comply with lawful directions of the Union.
Measured against these criteria, West Bengal presents an increasingly uncomfortable case.
When a chief minister publicly obstructs investigative agencies, the state is no longer acting as a neutral guarantor of law and order. When Election Commission officials are assaulted or intimidated during SIR exercises, it ceases to be a routine administrative failure. When a state executive routinely obstructs border security infrastructure along an international frontier, it encroaches upon national security, a Union subject under the Constitution.
Each of these incidents, taken individually, might be defended or explained away. Taken together, they form a pattern of constitutional defiance.
Why Has the Modi Government Held Back?
The obvious follow-up question is: if the constitutional threshold appears to be nearing breach, why has the Narendra Modi government not acted?
The answer lies in political memory and constitutional caution.
Article 356 carries historical baggage. Its rampant misuse during the Congress era, particularly in the 1970s and 1980s, turned it into a symbol of central authoritarianism. The BJP, having opposed such misuse for decades, is acutely aware of the reputational and institutional costs of invoking President’s Rule.
There is also strategic restraint. Any action under Article 356 would instantly be framed as “political vendetta”, feeding the very narrative of victimhood that the West Bengal chief minister thrives on. Judicial scrutiny would be intense. International commentary would be predictable. The Centre would gain control of the state, but possibly lose the larger argument.
Finally, there is the arithmetic of federal politics. The Union government has increasingly preferred allowing constitutional rot in opposition-ruled states to be exposed over time, rather than stepping in and being accused of authoritarian overreach.
But Can Article 355 Be Avoided Indefinitely?
Here lies the Centre’s vulnerability.
While Article 356 is discretionary, Article 355 is not optional. It is a constitutional duty. If the Union repeatedly witnesses breakdowns of law and order, obstruction of national agencies, and defiance of constitutional bodies—and does nothing—it risks being accused of abdication.
Targeted invocation of Article 355, through binding directions, enhanced central oversight and enforcement of constitutional compliance, may no longer be avoidable. Indeed, failure to act under Article 355 weakens the Union’s own constitutional standing.
Federalism does not mean anarchy. Autonomy does not include the right to defy the Constitution.
The Larger Danger: Normalising Constitutional Lawlessness
Perhaps the most alarming aspect of the West Bengal situation is not the individual incidents, but their normalisation. What was once shocking is now routine. What should provoke outrage is met with weary resignation.
If a chief minister can obstruct a central investigation today, another may block the armed forces tomorrow. If one state can openly defy constitutional bodies with impunity, others will follow. Federalism, once stretched beyond its constitutional limits, does not remain federalism, it fragments into competing sovereignties.
That is not a political problem. It is an existential one.
The Cost of Inaction
Invoking Article 356 may or may not be prudent at this stage. Reasonable constitutional minds can differ. But continued paralysis is not neutrality; it is complicity.
At the very least, the situation in West Bengal demands firm, visible, constitutionally grounded intervention under Article 355. Anything less signals that the Union is willing to tolerate the erosion of its own authority, and by extension, the authority of the Constitution. A republic cannot function on selective obedience. Either the Constitution applies uniformly, or it applies to no one.
West Bengal today is not merely testing the Centre’s patience. It is testing the resilience of India’s constitutional order itself.
(Bikash C Paul is a Delhi-based journalist. He is executive editor, New Delhi Post)
