Will Bengal Now Apologise to the Birlas?

The economy of Bengal could have been a vastly different story had the Birlas not been forced to leave. The Left insulted them and drove them out. Isn't it time we said sorry and left the door open to welcome them back?

By Ilmaz Syed | Editor-in-Chief

From my desk, it is sometimes difficult to watch the relentless ambition of cities like Mumbai, Gurugram, and Bengaluru without feeling a profound sense of grief for Kolkata. We look at the towering corporate headquarters defining the skylines of western and southern India, and we ask ourselves where Bengal went wrong.

But the truth is, we didn't just "go wrong" somewhere along the line. We actively gave our prosperity away.

The exodus of the Birla family from West Bengal was not a natural migration of capital seeking better markets. It was an eviction by humiliation. And as our state desperately rolls out the red carpet today, trying to court the very modern capital we once despised, it is time we confront a deeply uncomfortable question.

Does Bengal owe the Birlas an apology?

The Anatomy of an Insult

To understand the magnitude of this self-inflicted economic tragedy, you have to transport yourself back to the late 1960s. Kolkata was the undisputed industrial nerve center of India. The Birlas were its most prominent architects, having woven a colossal web of manufacturing, engineering, and commerce that employed thousands.

Then came the militant rise of the Left, bringing with it an ideological hostility toward private enterprise. Their weapon of choice was the gherao—a brutal, physical blockade. This wasn't a peaceful strike; it was a state-sanctioned siege. Executives and managers were routinely held hostage in their own offices, denied food, water, and basic dignity for days on end, while the state machinery explicitly ordered the police to look the other way.

The breaking point—the moment Bengal effectively signed its own economic death warrant—arrived in 1970.

The Birlas had just completed their gleaming new 15-story corporate headquarters on R.N. Mukherjee Road. The Left-backed unions demanded that the entirely distinct workforces of every differently-owned Birla company in that building be merged into a single umbrella union. When the Birlas rightfully refused this legally and operationally absurd demand, the unions laid siege to the building.

For nearly two years, the founders and executives of India’s largest conglomerate were physically barred from entering their own corporate headquarters. They were forced to run an empire out of rented flats and private residences in Alipore and Ballygunge, entirely devoid of state protection.

The message from the political establishment was unmistakable: You are the enemy.

The Price We Paid

Faced with a government that treated them with outright contempt and a law-and-order collapse that threatened their businesses and personal safety, the younger generation of the Birla family made the only logical, albeit heartbreaking, choice.

Aditya Vikram Birla packed up his vision, shifted his base to Mumbai, and took the future of the empire with him.

The economic cost of that single departure is almost too staggering to quantify. Today, the Aditya Birla Group is a $67 billion global juggernaut. Its operations span metals, cement, fashion, telecom, and financial services.

Imagine if the corporate headquarters for giants like Hindalco, UltraTech Cement, and Aditya Birla Capital were still pumping revenue and jobs into Kolkata today.

Instead, the Birla exodus triggered a domino effect. Other corporate houses saw the writing on the wall and fled. Kolkata was systematically stripped of its financial hub status. Decades of brain drain followed, forcing generations of our brightest engineers, chartered accountants, and managers to leave their home state just to find a job worthy of their talents.

Time for a Cultural Reckoning

Today, there are signs of course correction. The state government hosts massive business summits. Industry bodies like the Indian Chamber of Commerce—which, in a bitter stroke of irony, was founded by G.D. Birla in Kolkata in 1925—are working overtime to rebrand Bengal as a destination for global capital.

But policy changes and slick investment pitches are only half the battle. Rebuilding corporate trust requires acknowledging the sins of the past.

The Left insulted the Birlas and systematically dismantled the state’s industrial ecosystem in the name of a flawed political ideology. While the political landscape has since shifted, the cultural scar remains unhealed.

An apology—whether issued formally by the state's leadership or culturally embraced by civil society—would not be an act of submission. It would be an act of profound maturity. Saying "we were wrong, and you were wronged" would send a shockwave through the global investment community, proving that the Bengal of the 1970s is well and truly buried.

We slammed the doors to Bengal in their faces. It is time we open them wide, extend a hand of respect, and tell them they are welcome back home.