Opinion Mamata Banerjee in the Supreme Court: Why the street fighter is hard to pin down
In Bengal politics, "protest" is still the most valuable currency. By mapping her legal struggle onto the everyday anxieties of voters facing discrepancy notices, Banerjee ensures that the 2026 election will be fought not on governance metrics, but on visceral anxieties
West Bengal CM Mamata Banerjee in New Delhi. (Express photo by Abhinav Saha) In the high-stakes theatre of Indian democracy, few leaders master the “optics of the ordinary” as effectively as Mamata Banerjee. Her personal appearance before the Supreme Court on February 4, to challenge the Special Intensive Revision (SIR) of electoral rolls, which she decries as a “targeting” of West Bengal, is more than just a legal manoeuvre. It is a calculated performance of political charisma and an assertion of state sovereignty.
By arguing her own case, Banerjee skilfully leaned into her “street-fighter” persona. This image was recently reinforced by the dramatic ED file-snatching incident in January 2026, where she reportedly confronted central agency officials to “protect” the party’s strategy documents. To critics, such actions signal a disregard for institutional decorum; to her supporters, they are the necessary, visceral defences of a leader protecting her people from a “masculine” and “predatory” Centre.
Mamata’s performance brings the street with it
Banerjee’s politics is more than charismatic authority, where legitimacy is derived from the perceived extraordinary qualities of the individual. In the context of Bengal, she manifests herself as a “declassed” aesthetic. By appearing in her signature cotton saree and slippers in the apex court, she creates a cocktail of spectacular authority that transcends bureaucracy, nestling itself in local authority and her own style. This is a form of politics as permanent performance.
Banerjee’s brand is built on the “unmediated self.” Her willingness to engage in the linguistic and physical “muck” of political battle creates a stark contrast with the curated communication styles of rivals who might shy away from unscripted press conferences or rely on the digital scaffolding of a teleprompter. The affective potency of a leader, as studies suggest, often lies in their ability to mirror the struggles of the community. Banerjee does not just represent the street; she becomes the street.
The Nandigram Legacy and the SIR Shadow
This is not the first time she has chosen the hardest path. In 2021, she famously abandoned her safe seat to fight in Nandigram, the very crucible of her political rebirth. That gamble was a classic example of a refusal to play by established rules of political safety. By taking on the toughest constituency then, and the highest court now, she reinforces her image as a leader who does not outsource her battles.
The timing is critical. With the 2026 Assembly elections on the horizon, the SIR exercise is a real threat. The deletion of names has become an existential flashpoint, which is used regularly by Banerjee to get political dividends. By framing the SIR as “harassment” and appearing in person to “save democracy,” she transforms a dry administrative process into a narrative of Bengali identity under siege.
Political Consequences
The consequences of this performance are twofold. First, by winning the optics of the “lone warrior”, she consolidates her base further. Her constant friction with central institutions belies a clear definition. Second, her politics cannot be easily branded as “muscular”, as she is a woman, and the central government, with its pro-Hindutva affectation, appears more muscular than a regional force like TMC. This makes brand Mamata hard to take on. In the laboratory of Bengal politics, “protest” is still the most valuable currency. By mapping her legal struggle onto the everyday anxieties of voters facing discrepancy notices, Banerjee ensures that the 2026 election will be fought not on governance metrics, but on the visceral ground of protectionism.
The writer is a political anthropologist and teaches anthropology at Government General Degree College, Keshiary
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