West Bengal | Bengal's radical double whammy

Murshidabad, the old capital of Bengal’s nawabs, has never been shorn of its centrality in modern politics—given the creatively functional role it reserves for the communal question. Even its pre-2014 social temperature charts, albeit relatively stable, were marred by a few violent spikes. In the past decade, it attained an even lower boiling point. Last April, in fact, saw a widespread conflagration sweep the frontier district, becoming Bengal’s headline political event for weeks.

With that baseline set, it’s logical that today it plays host to a pair of polarising figures who have reared into prominence with eerie simultaneity. One Hindu, one Muslim, quite the opposite sides of the same coin—together, they promise to keep the skillet scalding hot for this summer’s election.

Call heads, and you get Kartik Maharaj, formally Swami Pradiptananda of the Bharat Sevashram Sangha in Beldanga, who fits the old trope of a saint with a bristlingly militant tongue. Inter alia, he has called for armed defence of dharma and weapon worship in Hindu households, rued the veneration of Mahatma Gandhi and raked up ‘love jihad’. On the obverse side is Humayun Kabir, MLA from Bharatpur, who yanked the spotlights onto himself recently by promising to build a ‘Babri Masjid’ in his neck of the woods—the offer was deemed beyond the acceptance threshold by even the Trinamool Congress (TMC), which duly suspended him.

SAFFRON AND GREEN

Kartik has long moved beyond the traditional role of a freelance saffron ecclesiast—and is visibly gravitating towards the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), even if he avoids direct party endorsements. Awarded the Padma Shri in 2025, he entered the higher league by leading large Bhagavad Gita recitals in Kolkata—drawing lakhs of participants—at the Brigade Parade Ground. Though presented as spiritual gatherings, in practice they functioned as a lightning-rod for Hindu mobilisation across class lines, supplying the BJP’s ecosystem with an organised base. All key state BJP leaders rally behind him and, if sources are to be believed, he’s likely to get a poll ticket. His growing proximity to party leaders at public events has fuelled the speculation. At the very least, the BJP has found an influential patron figure in the local ecosystem.

As for Kabir, he has formalised his break with the TMC by launching the Janata Unnayan Party, and is already naming candidates for the assembly poll. That launch followed months of public clashes with district TMC leaders and disciplinary warnings from the party, which means his departure is both political and personal. The ‘Babri Masjid’ he has vowed to build in Murshidabad is explicitly a political artifact. Helpfully, the site happens to be in Beldanga, which is also the HQ of Kartik’s ashram. As Kabir laid its foundation stone, he framed it as an act of community consolidation and a defensive reclamation of the national public space in the face of growing pressure. Opponents label the project as deliberately provocative.

For a political gadfly, Kabir’s flight path is ambitious. In recent statements, he has openly floated the idea of alliances, claiming that, with external support, he could even be a chief ministerial candidate. Curiously, that included an explicit offer to explore support from the BJP on the condition that he be named the CM nominee. The BJP immediately dismissed the move as theatrical and labelled Kabir a troublemaker or a stooge for rivals—a description that others too may be inclined to share. Sources suggest he is also in talks with outfits such as the Indian Secular Front, maybe even the Left. Open to all sides, no one may be willing presently to bet big money on whose side he’s actually on.

VILLAIN OR VICTIM?

If Kabir has flown close to the sun, Kartik, too, was the subject of a police complaint in 2025: serious crimes were alleged, dating to 2013, and he approached the Calcutta High Court for legal protection. Supporters call the prosecution politically driven; critics, in turn, frame his political endorsement as cynical and dicey. It’s either villainy or victimhood. Framed within that lurid binary, it’s near-inevitable that these days Kartik corners a lot of that most vital resource: attention. As does Kabir. Together, the doppelgangers ensure the chances of calm reflection only thin as voting time nears in Bengal.

The net effect may be visible in Murshidabad—and beyond. Situated along the upper eastern end of the state’s main torso, Murshidabad’s identity has long been yoked to the long, bustling border it shares with Bangladesh—and the attendant focus that brings on ‘demographics’, the contemporary euphemism for a high Muslim population ratio. Estimated, as of 2026, to be as high as 70 per cent by some, the distribution is also heavily skewed, yielding areas of Hindu/Muslim concentration.

But even light shifts in the atmosphere will matter across Bengal. Kabir can split Muslim votes—a core TMC vote bank. Kartik, similarly, has a pan-Bengal visibility. Both deliver an edge to the BJP. In short, Murshidabad is the epicenter in a very seismic zone.