From Sandeshkhali to Kasba: The Unfolding Evidence of Systemic Violence by TMC

BY A STAFF REPORTER: In the shadows of the Hooghly River, where the rhythms of Rabindranath Tagore once echoed widely, West Bengal today bears a darker legacy — one of fear, silence, and unchecked violence against women. Over the last thirteen years under Mamata Banerjee’s Trinamool Congress (TMC), what should be a vibrant culture has instead become a land where many feel atrocities against women are systemic, not occasional.

According to the 2022 report from the National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB), West Bengal recorded 34,738 cases of crimes against women — one of the highest in the country. This means nearly 71.8 incidents per 100,000 women, exceeding the national average of 66.4. More than 3,000 of those were rape cases, out of India’s total of 31,516 — a disproportionate share. Disturbingly, early data for 2023 shows a 15.3 % rise in crimes against women over 2022, and by mid-2024, over 4,000 rape or assault cases were already registered in the state (per state police). If the pace continues, experts expect more than 40,000 cases by late 2025 — a nearly 20 % increase from 2022. These are not statistics alone; they are lives scarred, voices silenced, and a glaring failure of governance that seems to favor political loyalty over public safety.

Behind these numbers lies a judicial system that often fails victims. In West Bengal, conviction rates for crimes against women linger around 17 %, far below the national average of 27 %. Many survivors, intimidated by threats and influence, never file cases — only 30 % of assaults are estimated to be formally reported. As one survivor told The Wire in anonymous fear, “We vote for Didi (Mamata Banerjee) thinking she’ll protect us like a mother, but her party’s men treat us like prey.” Once a land of Durga’s strength, Bengal’s heart now seems betrayed by its own rulers.

One of the most shocking incidents is the tragedy at R.G. Kar Medical College. On the night of August 9, 2024, the college’s seminar hall became a horrifying crime scene. A 31-year-old postgraduate doctor (called “Abhaya” in media) was on duty when she was brutally raped and murdered. The autopsy revealed multiple fractures, bite marks, strangulation, and signs of prolonged assault; her clothes were ripped, and her body was staged on a staircase to mimic suicide. A civic volunteer, Sanjay Roy, was later arrested as the main accused. But the case quickly turned into a labyrinth of institutional obstruction, with allegations that hospital officials tied to TMC sanitized the crime scene, pushed staff to change statements, and delayed the FIR by more than 12 hours. The principal, Dr. Sandip Ghosh — known for his TMC links — has been accused of interfering. His wife, an active candidate in local elections, further blurred lines between politics and state institutions.

Hundreds of junior doctors struck for over 40 days, demanding a federal investigation. Ultimately, the Calcutta High Court handed the case to the Central Bureau of Investigation (CBI), which unearthed financial irregularities at the hospital linked to prominent TMC figures. Despite Roy being convicted and sentenced to life, Abhaya’s family continues to believe a broader conspiracy was hidden. Her father said, “They killed her twice — once with their hands, once with silence.”

Then in June 2025, another horror unfolded at South Calcutta Law College (Kasba). A 24-year-old law student was lured into a seminar room and gang-raped by three assailants, including Manojit Mishra, a leader in TMC’s student wing (TMCP). Beaten with a hockey stick and threatened with video exposure if she spoke, she described hours of torment and threats of death. The initial response from TMC was twisted with victim-blaming: one MP said she “provoked” the assault by attending evening classes; another MLA said, “If she hadn’t gone, this wouldn’t have happened.” Even within the party, voices like Mahua Moitra criticized the stance, but no significant disciplinary steps followed. The state police delayed DNA tests and initial reluctance to treat it under child protection laws raised fears of a cover-up. The victim has been forced into hiding, saying, “They told me TMC would destroy me if I testified.” Across other campuses in Bengal, reports of harassment by party-affiliated students have surged, confirming fears that student wings now serve as predatory networks.

In January 2024, the remote Sundarbans village of Sandeshkhali erupted into public outcry when women came forward with claims of systematic assault, land grabs, and human trafficking under the control of TMC local boss Sheikh Shahjahan. Over 200 complaints described nightly abductions, repeated rape in a so-called “torture den,” and forced conversion of farmland for industrial shrimp production benefiting TMC financiers. One survivor told the Hindustan Times, “They took our land, then our dignity — all for votes.” Shahjahan evaded arrest for 55 days amid attacks on enforcement agencies, until a CBI investigation (ordered by the Calcutta High Court) in April 2024 filed FIRs for rape and even murder. Though his arrest came in February 2024 and relatives were charged, the investigation has stalled amid state interference, with the Supreme Court publicly reprimanding West Bengal in July 2024.

Underlying these incidents is a recurring pattern: power, politics, and impunity converge to protect predatory actors. Day after day, stories emerge of women silenced by threats, public institutions manipulated, and victims left without recourse. In a state that once prided itself on culture, intellect, and resistance, the spirit today lies bloodied — a tragedy stitched deep into Bengal’s political fabric.