In an unprecedented move that has jangled both the legal fraternity and West Bengal’s hyperactive political corridors, the Bar Council of India (BCI) has directed the Bar Council of West Bengal to produce the complete enrolment and practice records of former Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee, who, after appearing in advocate’s robes, became the center of fresh controversy as she left Calcutta High Court under intense political scrutiny.
Thank you for reading this post, don't forget to subscribe!The directive, issued on May 14 by BCI Principal Secretary Shrimanto Sen, gives the State Bar Council 48 hours to answer pointed questions that cut through symbolism and go straight to the paperwork. What is Mamata’s enrolment number? When was she enrolled? Does her name still appear on the official state roll of advocates? Did she notify the State Bar Council that she had suspended or ceased legal practice during her years as chief minister? And most importantly, does she hold a valid and active Certificate of Practice (CoP), or has the black robe outlived the legal authority behind it?
The inquiry began after media reports showed Mamata appearing before the Calcutta High Court on May 14 wearing an advocate’s gown and white bands. In ordinary circumstances, that would be routine courtroom attire. In Bengal’s volatile political milieu, it has become the legal equivalent of a “show me your papers” moment.
Sen’s letter cites the BCI rules governing professional conduct and the prescribed dress code for advocates appearing before the Supreme Court, High Courts, subordinate courts, tribunals, and other authorities. The subtext is unmistakable: in the legal profession, robes are not costumes, and courtroom optics must be backed by statutory credentials.
Under letter (Vide No. 2942/2026), the BCI instructed that every response be grounded in contemporaneous official records, including the state roll, enrolment registers, Certificate of Practice (CoP) records, inward and receipt registers, suspension or cessation records, resumption files, and related noting and orders. Certified copies of these documents, authenticated by the Secretary of the State Bar Council, must include page numbers, register references, dates of entries, diary numbers, and details of where the original records are currently kept.
For the BJP, which has repeatedly accused Mamata and her government of treating institutions as political props, the BCI’s intervention is likely to be seen as a legitimate demand for transparency. For the Trinamool Congress (TMC), the timing will fuel claims that every procedural inquiry involving Banerjee is quickly amplified into a political spectacle.
Yet the core issue is simple. If Mamata chooses to appear in the uniform of the legal profession, the legal establishment wants to know whether the records support that appearance. In a state where symbolism often outruns substance, the BCI has asked for the one thing politics cannot slogan away: documentary proof.
As Mamata exited the Calcutta High Court on Thursday, more than 100 lawyers linked to the BJP erupted in chants of “chor,” turning a courthouse corridor into Bengal’s latest political battleground.
In a state where politics often spills onto the streets, into classrooms, and across television studios, it has now burst into one of democracy’s most sacred spaces—the courtroom. On a day meant to symbolise the rule of law, the Calcutta High Court became the setting for a remarkable and deeply polarising confrontation.
Mamata was met with chants of “chor” (“thief”) from a group of more than 100 lawyers reportedly associated with the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) as she left the court premises. The slogan, blunt and incendiary, reverberated through the historic corridors of the high court, reducing a solemn institution to a theatre of raw political hostility.
For supporters of Mamata, the chants were an unforgivable insult aimed at a sitting chief minister. For her detractors, they were a symbolic expression of public anger over corruption allegations and governance failures. But beyond the slogans and outrage lies a more troubling question: what happens when India’s institutions become arenas for political score-settling?
A CHARGED EXIT FROM THE CALCUTTA HIGH COURT
According to eyewitness accounts, Mamata had visited the Calcutta High Court for legal proceedings when a large group of lawyers gathered as she exited. Then came the chants.
“Chor! Chor!” they shouted repeatedly. The accusation was not subtle. In India’s political lexicon, “chor” is one of the most potent labels a leader can face. It implies corruption, betrayal, and moral illegitimacy.
Mamata, known for her combative political instincts, did not visibly react and proceeded to her vehicle amid heightened security. Yet the moment was impossible to ignore. This was not a roadside protest or a party rally. This was the Calcutta High Court—an institution entrusted with upholding constitutional values and judicial dignity.
When she emerged in the Calcutta High Court on Thursday, draped in a lawyer’s robe and white bands, the image was vintage Mamata—part political warrior, part courtroom crusader, and entirely aware of the symbolism. But the carefully staged visual took an ugly turn within minutes. As she left Calcutta High Court, the corridors of one of India’s oldest constitutional institutions rang with chants of “chor, chor,” transforming what began as a dramatic legal appearance into a bruising political spectacle.
For admirers, the black robe was a reminder that Mamata is not merely a politician but a law graduate who has long relished the courtroom as both battleground and backdrop. For critics, particularly within the BJP, it looked like another dose of political theatre from a leader who has built a career on turning symbolism into strategy. Yet even by Bengal’s standards, the scenes that followed were extraordinary.
Eyewitnesses said a section of lawyers surrounded Mamata as she descended the staircase after the hearing on post-poll violence cases. Slogans of “chor, chor” echoed through the building, while some voices allegedly went further, shouting that she should be “sent to Bangladesh.” The crowd swelled near the exit gates, and security personnel struggled to carve out a path through the chaos before escorting her to her vehicle. The optics were explosive: a former chief minister, clad in an advocate’s gown, being jostled and heckled inside a court complex that is supposed to symbolise order, not organised outrage.
“As Mamata exited the Calcutta High Court on Thursday, more than 100 lawyers linked to the BJP erupted in chants of “chor,” turning a courthouse corridor into Bengal’s latest political battleground”
TMC MP and Advocate Kalyan Banerjee, who was present during the confrontation, accused BJP-linked lawyers, including Advocate Suryaneel Das, of orchestrating the episode. He said the lawyers came dangerously close to Mamata and questioned how such disorder could have been allowed to unfold within the High Court itself. If this could happen within the walls of the court, he argued, it raised troubling questions about institutional decorum and security.
Kalyan also condemned the sloganeering, saying the High Court was not a street corner for partisan intimidation. During the hearing, tensions had reportedly begun to simmer when one lawyer shouted, “Don’t do drama here,” setting the tone for the confrontation that followed.
Advocate Suryaneel Das rejected the allegation outright. In an interview with News Trajectory, he said claims that BJP-linked lawyers orchestrated the confrontation were unequivocally nebulous. According to him, he was trying to calm a volatile situation, create a passage for Mamata, and restore order as the atmosphere spiralled out of control.
Eyewitnesses described an increasingly volatile atmosphere, with aggressive slogans and political taunts filling the court premises. Banerjee’s security personnel reportedly struggled to escort her through the crowd, underscoring how quickly the symbolism of her appearance in an advocate’s robe gave way to a full-blown confrontation. For a leader who arrived dressed as a lawyer, the exit resembled a political ambush.
The clash of narratives is revealing. Trinamool Congress sees a coordinated BJP-backed attempt to humiliate Mamata inside the High Court. BJP-linked voices deny orchestration and say they were trying to prevent the situation from worsening. Between accusation and denial lies an uncomfortable image: a former chief minister surrounded by slogans, security under strain, and a courtroom transformed into a political amphitheatre.
In Bengal, where symbolism is currency and confrontation is routine, the incident offers yet another reminder that even the High Court is no longer immune from the state’s bruising political warfare. Mamat may have entered the court in a lawyer’s robe, but as she left Calcutta High Court, the lasting image was not of legal argument—it was of a constitutional institution briefly overtaken by the noise of politics.
West Bengal BJP President Samik Bhattacharya also distanced his party from the slogans. He said such conduct was not part of the BJP’s culture and stressed that Mamata, as a former chief minister and a woman, should not be subjected to chants of “chor, chor.”
At the same time, Bhattacharya did not miss the opportunity to sharpen his political attack. Referring to corruption allegations involving Trinamool Congress leaders, he said public anger against the ruling party was growing and described the courtroom confrontation as a byproduct of the TMC’s own politics.
Several lawyers associated with the Trinamool Congress, including Chandrima Bhattacharya and senior advocate Baiswanor Chatterjee, were also present as the confrontation unfolded.
The incident has left Bengal sharply divided. To BJP supporters, the chants reflected public anger over corruption allegations and political excess. To TMC supporters, the episode crossed a dangerous line, replacing democratic dissent with personal intimidation inside a constitutional institution.
The larger symbolism is difficult to miss. Mamata entered the High Court dressed as a lawyer, invoking her legal roots and projecting an image of constitutional engagement. She left to cries of “thief,” a reminder that in West Bengal, no symbol remains uncontested for long.
In the end, the black robe, the slogans, and the political blame game told the story of a state where every courtroom appearance doubles as a campaign stage, and where even the steps of the High Court can become the front line in Bengal’s unending political war.
WHY BJP LAWYERS RAISED “CHOR” SLOGANS
The slogan reflects years of mounting political tension between the BJP and Mamata. The BJP has relentlessly attacked the Trinamool Congress (TMC) government over several high-profile controversies, including:
- The school recruitment scam
- Alleged irregularities in municipal appointments
- The cattle smuggling case
- The coal smuggling investigation
- Accusations of extortion and syndicate corruption
Several senior TMC leaders, including former ministers, have been arrested by central agencies. While Mamata herself has not been charged, opposition leaders argue that such widespread allegations raise questions about political accountability. To BJP supporters, the “chor” chants captured what they see as a larger pattern of systemic corruption. To TMC leaders, it was a coordinated act of political provocation.
TMC’S FURIOUS RESPONSE
The ruling party wasted no time in condemning the incident. Senior TMC leaders accused BJP-affiliated lawyers of turning the judiciary into a partisan battleground. They argued that shouting “chor” at an elected chief minister inside a court complex amounted to a direct assault on democratic decorum. Party spokespersons demanded accountability and questioned how such a large, organised demonstration was allowed within a high-security judicial zone. For TMC supporters, the episode was another example of what they call the BJP’s politics of humiliation.
CAN POLITICAL PROTESTS CROSS INTO JUDICIAL SPACES?
The incident raises a serious institutional concern. Lawyers are officers of the court. They are not ordinary protesters. When members of the legal fraternity engage in slogan-shouting inside court premises, questions arise about:
- Professional ethics
- Institutional neutrality
- Respect for judicial decorum
- The politicisation of legal spaces
The judiciary derives legitimacy from appearing above partisan conflict. If court complexes become stages for political theatre, public trust may erode.
CORRUPTION ALLEGATIONS AND POLITICAL REALITY
The BJP’s attack resonates because corruption allegations involving TMC leaders have dominated Bengal politics. The arrest of former education minister Partha Chatterjee in the school recruitment scam remains one of the most damaging episodes for the ruling party.
Images of cash and luxury assets seized from associates intensified public scrutiny. Mamata has repeatedly argued that individuals accused of wrongdoing should face the law, while insisting her government remains committed to transparency. The truth, as is often the case in politics, is more nuanced. Individual culpability does not automatically establish institutional guilt, yet repeated scandals can shape public perception.
PUBLIC REACTION: DIVIDED AND EMOTIONAL
The incident triggered intense debate across social media and political circles. Many users condemned the slogans as disrespectful and unbecoming of lawyers. Others argued that elected leaders must face public criticism, especially when corruption allegations dominate the political discourse. The divide reflects Bengal’s deeply polarised political landscape. To one side, Mamata is a defender of Bengal’s autonomy. To the other, she is the face of entrenched political patronage.
THE SYMBOLISM OF THE WORD “CHOR” Political slogans matter because they compress complex accusations into one emotionally charged word. “Chor” is more than an insult. It is a verdict delivered without trial. Its power lies in its simplicity and repetition.
When shouted in a courtroom corridor, it carries an even heavier implication: that public opinion has already reached conclusions the legal process has not. That is precisely why the slogan is so politically effective—and institutionally troubling.
THE JUDICIARY’S DELICATE POSITION
The judiciary cannot be seen as favouring either side. If political actors and their supporters transform court premises into protest venues, the judiciary may be compelled to tighten security and reconsider conduct protocols.
The incident could prompt renewed debate over:
- Entry restrictions
- Political demonstrations within court complexes
- Disciplinary action for lawyers
- Safeguards to preserve neutrality
These are not abstract concerns. They go to the heart of public confidence in constitutional institutions.
MAMATA BANERJEE LEAVES CALCUTTA HIGH COURT, BUT THE QUESTIONS REMAIN
The image is stark. Mamata is walking out of the Calcutta High Court. Lawyers in black coats shouting “chor.” Security personnel escorting the chief minister through a storm of accusations. In that moment, the legal, political, and emotional currents shaping West Bengal converged in one dramatic tableau. The chief minister left the premises. The controversy did not.
DEMOCRACY NEEDS RESTRAINT
No political leader should be immune from criticism. No institution should be shielded from public scrutiny. But there is a difference between accountability and spectacle. The Calcutta High Court represents the constitutional order. It should not become a backdrop for slogan wars.
If lawyers—those tasked with defending the law—join in partisan demonstrations inside court premises, the symbolism is unsettling. Democracy is loud by design. Its institutions, however, must remain steady.
The chants of “chor” that followed Mamata out of the Calcutta High Court were more than a political insult. They were a vivid expression of the distrust, anger, and polarisation shaping West Bengal today.
To supporters of the BJP, the slogan captured legitimate frustration. To supporters of Mamata, it represented a calculated attempt to demean an elected leader. To neutral observers, the episode was a warning. When court corridors echo with partisan accusations, the issue is no longer just about one chief minister or one opposition party. It is about whether India’s institutions can remain above the political storm raging around them.
