Bengal SIR: Voter Trust and Extraordinary Measures

SNS, Feb 24, 2026, New Delhi: In any democracy, the most fragile infrastructure is not a bridge or a power line, but the voter roll. It is the ledger that decides who exists politically and who does not. When that ledger becomes contested, the dispute is never merely administrative; it becomes a test of trust between institutions that are supposed to check and balance one another.

West Bengal is now living through such a test. The state is in the middle of a Special Intensive Revision (SIR) of its electoral rolls, a process meant to weed out errors, duplications, and outdated entries.

On paper, that sounds routine. In practice, it has turned into a collision between the state government and the Election Commission of India, with millions of citizens caught in between, unsure whether their names will survive the audit of paperwork and procedure.

What makes this episode different is not just the scale — several million claims and objections is not a small backlog — but the decision to bring judicial officers directly into the process.

District judges and additional district judges are being asked to step out of courtrooms and into the machinery of election administration. That is an extraordinary measure, and it should worry anyone who believes that institutions should normally stay in their lanes.

Yet extraordinary measures do not emerge from thin air. They arrive when routine cooperation breaks down. The Constitution gives the Election Commission wide authority over elections, but it also assumes a working relationship with state administrations that must supply staff, data, and logistical support.

When that relationship turns into open suspicion, the system begins to seize up. Files stop moving. Deadlines become threats instead of milestones. And the citizen, whose right to vote depends on all this quiet coordination, becomes an anxious spectator.

Chief Justice Surya Kant’s intervention signals more than impatience; it signals a judgment that the usual levers of compliance are no longer enough. By asking the Calcutta High Court to deploy serving and retired judges, the Supreme Court has effectively inserted a neutral referee into a process that both sides now view as politically loaded.

The hope is that a judicial stamp will make decisions about inclusion or exclusion look less like partisan manoeuvres and more like reasoned determinations based on documents and law.

Still, with an election on the horizon and a mountain of pending cases, delay is the one luxury West Bengal does not have. The immediate task is to ensure that eligible voters are not lost in a bureaucratic fog, and ineligible names are not preserved out of inertia or fear of controversy. If judicial officers can restore momentum and credibility, their presence will have served a democratic purpose.

The deeper lesson, however, is sobering: the credibility of elections rests as much on institutional trust as on ink and paper. Once that trust erodes, even the simplest civic exercise begins to require the heaviest constitutional tools.