Those who are quite rightly agitated over last week’s disastrous intersection between sports and politics at Calcutta’s Salt Lake Stadium may also do well to reflect on the storm that sullied the city’s name some 58 years ago.
There are many who vividly remember the riotous scenes at the Eden Gardens on New Year’s Day in 1967. It was the second day of the Test match between the touring West Indies side and India. Having witnessed the cruel massacre of India by Gerry Alexander’s Caribbean XI exactly eight years ago — Rohan Kanhai scored a memorable 256 and there were centuries by Basil Butcher and Garfield Sobers — there were no real expectations of India putting up a dogged resistance to a team whose battery of fast bowlers was feared as much by the spectators as by their opponents.
However, Test cricket at the Eden Gardens on January 1 always held out a special charm. The authorities chose to make the day even more memorable for the spectators by being extra generous with tickets. The predictable result was jostling in the stands — those days the stands were wooden and covered by makeshift tarpaulin held up by bamboos — and the crowd spilling over into the perimeter. Following some fracas before the second day’s play had begun, the police chose to intervene with a lathi-charge. Unfortunately, this included a needlessly vicious attack on an elderly gentleman who tried to calm things and ended up being thrashed by the police. Since all this happened in full view of the stadium, there was a spontaneous explosion of fury.
The crowds broke the barriers, invaded the field, and even set fire to a few of the tarpaulin covers. Tear gas shells were fired, and the cricketers were hurriedly evacuated from the pavilion and sheltered inside the Mohan Bagan grounds. It is said that the fast bowler, Charlie Griffith, got lost in the melee and somehow found his way back to the Grand Hotel. The day’s play was naturally suspended.
As happens in such situations, there was an instant bout of finger-pointing. Why, it was naturally asked, had so many extra tickets been either issued or sold? Since 1967 was an election year, there were suspicions that the state government, then led by the venerable Congress leader, Prafulla Chandra Sen, had tried to court cheap popularity and bungled.
The intensity of the crowd's anger, particularly against the police and the authorities, also told another story. It seemed that the spectators were also taking out their frustrations against a government that had become progressively unpopular thanks to its over-zealousness and consequent inability to control the shortages of food and other essential goods. The riot at Eden Gardens was no doubt occasioned by the ham-handed crowd-control methods of the police, but it quickly escalated into a political riot which resulted in people taking out their anger at an unpopular state government. The results of the elections that led to the formation of a Left-dominated United Front government suggested that this assessment was not far off the mark.
It may be a few months before the extent of the political fallout of the anger at the Lionel Messi show can be properly gauged. At present, there is a feverish bid by the police and the state government to apportion the entire blame on the ineptitude of the event managers. No doubt the impresario must bear a share of the blame. But if the reaction of the angry fans who had paid sizeable amounts for tickets is considered, the entire blame for the Argentinian icon not being visible from the stands must rest on the local politicians. All the TV footage clearly indicate that the bigwigs of the ruling Trinamool Congress surrounded Messi, ensured selfies with their families and a few chosen ones, and made a complete dog’s breakfast of the event. Compared to how well choreographed were Messi’s visits to Hyderabad, Mumbai and Delhi, Calcutta was a total disgrace.
A central feature of the disastrous Messi visit to Calcutta was its underlying over-politicisation. A visit to a city by an international celebrity invariably leads to political leaders trying to ensure they bask in reflected glory. This is an inescapable feature of the mentality that prevails in a country that hasn’t yet fully made the transition from the third world. However, what was seen in Calcutta was reminiscent of the chaotic drooling that defines visits of stars and politicians of consequence to a Durga Puja pandal. The two politicians in the eye of the storm have made their mark in politics on the strength of their ability to organise extravagant Durga Pujas and to control Tollywood celebrities. They sought to replicate their swagger — the more appropriate term is ‘dadagiri’— during the Messi visit with dire consequences. Accustomed to the adulation that comes from prolonged and unchallenged political power, the insensitivity of their takeover of Messi didn’t occur to them until the crowd exploded.
The unscripted interviews of the angry football-crazy fans on local TV were instructive. Apart from fulminating against VIPs, their relatives and film stars who were allowed to monopolise Messi on the strength of their association with the Trinamool Congress, there was a belief that the fans had been financially milked with an eye to the 2026 assembly poll. What is consequential is not the veracity of the charges but the belief that rampant corruption is the defining feature of the government. It wouldn’t be inaccurate to suggest that the vandalism of public property was also a political protest against arrogance, cronyism and the rampant corruption that have been features of the government. Contrary to the silly accusations that the destruction of the stadium was the doing of the Opposition, the visuals indicate spontaneity.
A feature of Bengal politics since the Left assumed charge in 1977 is the politicisation of almost every aspect of civic and public life. The domination of the Communist Party of India (Marxist) for more than three decades owed to its carefully-plotted takeover of nearly all the institutions and large chunks of public life. The Mamata Banerjee government has inherited this approach, to which it has added its takeover of community and cultural life. The community pujas, film, theatre and even sports are now in the grip of the ruling party. This over-politicisation has accelerated the state’s decline and lowered the tone of public life.
The Salt Lake Stadium riot was an expression of exasperation with the political control of every facet of life. It could well be an early warning of an electoral revolt.