West Bengal prides itself on cultural progressiveness, yet when it comes to women in
sport—especially in independent, individual disciplines—the record is starkly
disappointing. From gymnastics and athletics to shooting and boxing, Bengal has
consistently failed to build a sustainable pipeline of elite women athletes. This is not for
lack of talent. It is the outcome of systemic neglect and excessive political
interference in sports administration.
Across India, states with fewer resources—Haryana, Manipur, Odisha, Assam—have
emerged as powerhouses of women’s sport. They have done so by professionalising
sports governance, insulating athlete development from daily politics, and investing in
long-term training ecosystems. West Bengal, by contrast, has remained trapped in a
culture of short-term optics, where events and announcements matter more than
infrastructure, coaching continuity, and athlete welfare.
Independent sports suffer the most under this model. Unlike team sports, they do not
generate immediate crowds or political visibility. They require sustained investment in
coaching, sports science, equipment, nutrition, injury management, and international
exposure. For women athletes—already navigating safety concerns, social pressure, and
f
inancial uncertainty—the absence of such support becomes decisive.
The experience of Dipa Karmakar, India’s most celebrated gymnast, illustrates the
problem clearly. Karmakar made history at the 2016 Rio Olympics as the first Indian
woman to reach gymnastics final. Yet crucial phases of her elite preparation took place
outside West Bengal, including extended training in national camps and other states
such as Assam. This was not a matter of preference; it was necessity. Advanced
apparatus, specialised coaching, sports medicine, and uninterrupted funding were
simply not reliably available within Bengal’s system.
Her success, therefore, was achieved despite the state ecosystem, not because of it.
Political influence in Bengal’s sports bodies has long blurred the line between
governance and patronage. Appointments to associations often reflect loyalty rather
than expertise. Selection controversies, uneven funding, and opaque decision-making
are not uncommon. In such an environment, athletes who are non-aligned, outspoken,
or simply focused on performance find themselves vulnerable. For women in individual
sports, this vulnerability is magnified.
The contrast with other states is instructive. Haryana and Manipur have allowed
performance metrics—not political proximity—to drive support. Odisha has invested
heavily in women’s academies and athlete stipends. Assam, often overlooked in national
narratives, has quietly built training centres that prioritise discipline-specific excellence.
These states understand a simple truth: sport flourishes only when administrators
step back and professionals step in.
The cost of Bengal’s failure is not abstract. When elite women athletes are forced to leave
the state to pursue excellence, young girls lose role models close to home. Grassroots
confidence erodes. The unspoken message becomes clear: ambition must migrate to
survive. Over time, this hollows out the very idea of Bengal as a sporting state.
What is required is neither rhetoric nor symbolism. Bengal needs:
- autonomous, professionally run sports associations
- long-term funding models for individual sports
- women-specific training and safety frameworks
- insulation of athlete selection from political pressure
Until then, the pattern will persist: talent will emerge, struggle locally, and then seek
refuge elsewhere.
West Bengal does not lack gifted women athletes. It lacks the institutional humility to let
sport operate without control. Until that changes, Bengal will continue to watch its
brightest sporting futures succeed—just not at home.
@ Dr. Piyali Mitra
