Kolkata: Budhadev Bhattacharya80, first Left Front CM who wanted to give an industry and investor-friendly face to Bengal and his party, died of cardiac arrest at his modest flat on Kolkata’s Palm Avenue at 8.20 am on Thursday. He was 80 and is survived by his wife Mira and son Suchetan.
Bhattacharya, a man of many contradictions, will be best remembered as a communist chief minister who wanted to take his state on the path of progress. industrial development without corruption and bribery. It was perhaps inevitable that he would be misunderstood, both as a Marxist But CPMWorked as administrator at Alimuddin Street headquarters and Writers Building headquarters. The outcome was also inevitable: his 11 years in the CM’s office ended with the CPM’s electoral defeat in 2011, from which it has not recovered even in 2024. However, redemption has come much faster than anyone, including Bhattacharya, expected.
His attempts to make Bengal a hub of industrialists failed both administratively and politically; but it is a measure of his success that every party in Bengal now has to swear by industrialisation.
Kolkata: Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee, 80, was the first Left Front The CM, who wanted to give an industry and investor-friendly face to Bengal and his party, died of cardiac arrest at his modest flat on Kolkata’s Palm Avenue around 8.20 am on Thursday. He was 80 and is survived by wife Mira and son Suchetan.
Bhattacharya, a man of many contradictions, will be best remembered as a communist CM who wanted to take his state on the path of industrial development without corruption and bribes. It was perhaps inevitable that he would be misunderstood as a Marxist at the CPM’s Alimuddin Street headquarters and an administrator at the Writers’ Building headquarters. The result was also inevitable: his 11 years in the CM’s office ended with the CPM’s electoral defeat in 2011, from which it has not recovered even in 2024. However, redemption has come much sooner than anyone, including Bhattacharya, expected.
His attempts to make Bengal a hub of industrialists failed both administratively and politically; but it is a measure of his success that every party in Bengal now has to swear by industrialisation.
A leader whose popularity cannot be measured by votes
Such is the measure of Buddhadeb Bhattacharya’s success that every party in Bengal now has to swear by industrialisation and present itself as an industry-friendly entity to lure investors. In both his failures and his redemption, Bhattacharya can claim a kinship with communism’s original perestroika figure: Mikhail Gorbachev. The Soviet leader tried to restructure his nation and his party, but ultimately presided over the dissolution of the USSR. And, just like Bhattacharya, Gorbachev found solace in history, which judged his efforts more leniently than the people he once led. And, for both, redemption came before their deaths.
Bhattacharya attempted to move his state away from the dwindling profits of subsistence agriculture and use the surplus skilled manpower to build a strong growth path through industries. He also approved contract farming and invited private investment in agriculture infrastructure (for processing and packaging of agricultural produce and increasing production). The state and central governments adopted all these gestures much later.
Bhattacharya also wanted his party to break away from its excessive reliance on bandhs and instead create a positive work culture. And, unlike many of his CPM colleagues, Bhattacharya made a sincere effort to break his party’s hegemony in academic institutions and public life. In all these cases, as in all others, his efforts to take the CPM in a different direction may have come too late. However, it would be a mistake to measure Bhattacharya’s popularity only by votes. Yes, he lost in his own assembly constituency, Jadavpur, in 2011, when his party lost power. But many give him and his party credit He rallied despite apparently frail health — his party won the prestigious seat again five years later (though he lost Jadavpur again in 2021). And, in an age when self-aggrandisement among politicians is the norm, he earned respect — if not votes — by leading a retired life suitable for both Bengali bhadralok and Communist apparatchiks. Bengal may have voted him out of power, but in that enforced retirement, Bengal found in him another of its icons: a frail old man, clad in pyjamas, happy away from the public glare, living a peaceful, retired life that would be the envy of the wealthy.
During this time he wrote two books – Phir Dekha and Phir Dekha II – in which he made some observations on his tenure as CM, the role of the opposition and the role of the governor. Recalling the Singur-Nandigram days, Bhattacharjee wrote about how the Tatas had withdrawn their business from Bengal: “It was an irreparable loss for the state. Sometimes I wonder where I went wrong. Was it land acquisition or the process of land acquisition? Was I too soft on the opposition? We will learn from that experience.” Bengalis did not find him suitable for the post of chief minister, but his moving to a modest government flat in a very rich area of Palm Avenue after retirement convinced them: politics is not all about sleight of hand and a politician can also be a bhadralok.
Bhattacharya, a man of many contradictions, will be best remembered as a communist chief minister who wanted to take his state on the path of progress. industrial development without corruption and bribery. It was perhaps inevitable that he would be misunderstood, both as a Marxist But CPMWorked as administrator at Alimuddin Street headquarters and Writers Building headquarters. The outcome was also inevitable: his 11 years in the CM’s office ended with the CPM’s electoral defeat in 2011, from which it has not recovered even in 2024. However, redemption has come much faster than anyone, including Bhattacharya, expected.
His attempts to make Bengal a hub of industrialists failed both administratively and politically; but it is a measure of his success that every party in Bengal now has to swear by industrialisation.
Kolkata: Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee, 80, was the first Left Front The CM, who wanted to give an industry and investor-friendly face to Bengal and his party, died of cardiac arrest at his modest flat on Kolkata’s Palm Avenue around 8.20 am on Thursday. He was 80 and is survived by wife Mira and son Suchetan.
Bhattacharya, a man of many contradictions, will be best remembered as a communist CM who wanted to take his state on the path of industrial development without corruption and bribes. It was perhaps inevitable that he would be misunderstood as a Marxist at the CPM’s Alimuddin Street headquarters and an administrator at the Writers’ Building headquarters. The result was also inevitable: his 11 years in the CM’s office ended with the CPM’s electoral defeat in 2011, from which it has not recovered even in 2024. However, redemption has come much sooner than anyone, including Bhattacharya, expected.
His attempts to make Bengal a hub of industrialists failed both administratively and politically; but it is a measure of his success that every party in Bengal now has to swear by industrialisation.
A leader whose popularity cannot be measured by votes
Such is the measure of Buddhadeb Bhattacharya’s success that every party in Bengal now has to swear by industrialisation and present itself as an industry-friendly entity to lure investors. In both his failures and his redemption, Bhattacharya can claim a kinship with communism’s original perestroika figure: Mikhail Gorbachev. The Soviet leader tried to restructure his nation and his party, but ultimately presided over the dissolution of the USSR. And, just like Bhattacharya, Gorbachev found solace in history, which judged his efforts more leniently than the people he once led. And, for both, redemption came before their deaths.
Bhattacharya attempted to move his state away from the dwindling profits of subsistence agriculture and use the surplus skilled manpower to build a strong growth path through industries. He also approved contract farming and invited private investment in agriculture infrastructure (for processing and packaging of agricultural produce and increasing production). The state and central governments adopted all these gestures much later.
Bhattacharya also wanted his party to break away from its excessive reliance on bandhs and instead create a positive work culture. And, unlike many of his CPM colleagues, Bhattacharya made a sincere effort to break his party’s hegemony in academic institutions and public life. In all these cases, as in all others, his efforts to take the CPM in a different direction may have come too late. However, it would be a mistake to measure Bhattacharya’s popularity only by votes. Yes, he lost in his own assembly constituency, Jadavpur, in 2011, when his party lost power. But many give him and his party credit He rallied despite apparently frail health — his party won the prestigious seat again five years later (though he lost Jadavpur again in 2021). And, in an age when self-aggrandisement among politicians is the norm, he earned respect — if not votes — by leading a retired life suitable for both Bengali bhadralok and Communist apparatchiks. Bengal may have voted him out of power, but in that enforced retirement, Bengal found in him another of its icons: a frail old man, clad in pyjamas, happy away from the public glare, living a peaceful, retired life that would be the envy of the wealthy.
During this time he wrote two books – Phir Dekha and Phir Dekha II – in which he made some observations on his tenure as CM, the role of the opposition and the role of the governor. Recalling the Singur-Nandigram days, Bhattacharjee wrote about how the Tatas had withdrawn their business from Bengal: “It was an irreparable loss for the state. Sometimes I wonder where I went wrong. Was it land acquisition or the process of land acquisition? Was I too soft on the opposition? We will learn from that experience.” Bengalis did not find him suitable for the post of chief minister, but his moving to a modest government flat in a very rich area of Palm Avenue after retirement convinced them: politics is not all about sleight of hand and a politician can also be a bhadralok.
