A year ago, the Pakistani prime minister noted how Pakistan’s economic and political challenges stood in stark contrast to Bangladesh’s trajectory. Bangladesh, once dismissed as a burdened appendage, had surged ahead, hailed as the next economic superstar. The country became the second largest economy in South Asia, outpaced Pakistan and India in per capita income, championed women’s empowerment, and against all odds, kept extremism at bay.
Yet, behind the glossy metrics lay something brittle. Bangladesh had growth, but fragile governance. Highways, but not so fair elections. Girls in schools, but many dissenters in prison. July last year cracked the fault line open. Bangladesh’s uprising came like a tidal wave—unexpected, electrifying, and full of promise.
But revolutions have a habit of betraying their aspirations. In the wake of the uprising, governance has deteriorated across multiple fronts. The economy staggered under its weakest growth in 36 years, while millions slip back toward poverty. Violence against women and minorities has surged. Political repression against the former regime has intensified. The interim government’s approach has emphasized political exclusion rather than the systemic transformation the uprising initially promised. Without a course correction through genuine institutional reform and inclusive political reconciliation, Bangladesh risks becoming the regional burden it once so proudly transcended.
The interim government’s approach has emphasized political exclusion rather than the systemic transformation the uprising initially promised.
The Long Road to Reform
Much of Bangladesh’s democratic decay stems from weak institutions. The basic safeguards of democracies—the judiciary, law enforcement, and elections—have long become extensions of partisan power. The interim government inherited broken machinery, and, instead of repairs, it picked up the pieces and turned them into weapons against political opponents and critics.
The judiciary now operates in a climate of fear and still appears to be subject to political imperatives rather than legal standards. After the uprising, violent mobs forced the chief justice and the entire Appellate Division to resign. Over 300,000 people perceived to be affiliated with the former ruling party, the Awami League (AL), face murder and related charges, most flimsy, many fictitious. Defendants cannot secure bail or, in many cases, even appoint lawyers. Defense attorneys who dare take these cases get assaulted inside courtrooms. Recently, police arrested an 81-year-old former chief justice, who ruled on sensitive cases including caretaker system removal and the assassination of founding president and former Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina’s father Sheikh Mujib, for shooting a teenager during the protest. No lawyer defended him, and bail was denied. The interim government has taken no visible steps to protect defendants’ rights or shield courts from outside interference.
After the July crackdown, many expected the police to face foundational reform. Instead, old habits deepened. Law enforcement seems to prioritize making political arrests rather than fighting crimes. Crime continues to rise alarmingly, yet since the uprising, nearly 359,000 people have been arrested, most with ties to the AL. In Gopalganj, by most accounts, the security forces shot five people dead after AL supporters violently protested a National Citizen Party rally, fashioned by the student leaders of the uprising. Yet, when police filed cases, they accused close to 10,000 AL supporters of allegedly killing those people. Human rights organizations said gross human rights violations were committed. Law enforcement, in general, is now less overtly violent on the streets, but extrajudicial killings have increased considerably, from 20 killings in 2023 to at least 27 since last August. Despite calls from media and human rights groups, the government took no meaningful action to hold security forces accountable.
Still, what Bangladesh arguably needs most urgently is a fair electoral system and restructuring of the Election Commission. In most of Bangladesh’s history, political parties have taken turns to manipulate the electoral system whenever they could. The one brief era of relative credibility, from 1991 to 2008, came under a non-partisan caretaker mechanism. The election commission must achieve genuine independence, insulated from political interference. Holding a free and fair election in the next year as stipulated will be a test case for the interim government.
Meanwhile, the government has taken an ambitious reform agenda. It formed 11 reform commissions, including bodies for reforming the election commission, the judiciary, and the police. On paper, some proposals inspire cautious hope. The Judiciary Reformation Commission has called for full separation of the judiciary from the executive, including a separate secretariat. This reform, repeatedly ignored by previous governments, now faces its most realistic implementation window. Political parties also agreed on the formation of an independent Police Commission to ensure police accountability. On elections, talks with political parties are underway to resurrect the caretaker system and refine the electoral process. Early signs suggest rare consensus on core reforms, including introducing a two-term limit for the office of Prime Minster.
However, evidence suggests that reform efforts have thus far advanced on paper but stalled in practice. This could be attributed to several factors. First, the interim government lacks both an electoral mandate and the political capital to drive structural reforms or compel institutional compliance. Second reform resistance may come from within the institutions themselves, as the bureaucracy often aligns with political power to protect its own interests and career prospects. It is more likely to cater to the perceived future ruling party than a transitional government. Third, the lack of meaningful reform may not be incidental but deliberate. The government has shown considerable authority in targeting political opponents and suppressing civil protests. However, authorities remained passive when attackers torched the AL-aligned Jatiya Party headquarters, and even sprayed protesters demanding the AL’s ban with cool water amid a heatwave. This differential response suggests that institutional aberrations are sometimes more strategic than structural. Until Bangladesh breaks its cycle of retributive politics, where dominant parties refuse to surrender institutional tools to punish opponents, meaningful reform will remain elusive.
Reconciliation is Essential for Sustained Reform
Institutional reform, however well-crafted, cannot by itself deliver democratic renewal without broad political consensus. Bangladesh’s institutional decay, while structural, is fundamentally political at its core. For decades, deeply polarized politics have entrenched divisions so profound that meaningful reform becomes nearly impossible. Restoring democratic norms, therefore, requires more than technocratic fixes—it demands a collective and inclusive political commitment. Reforms can only be durable and genuinely representative when they are built on a foundation of reconciliation and mutual legitimacy.
Yet, the interim government has rejected an inclusive approach, effectively making the AL a political pariah. It temporarily banned all AL activities after amending anti-terrorism laws, a move that Human Rights Watch condemned as draconian. The AL is also barred from the electoral process. Officials justified these measures by citing the AL’s history of violently suppressing dissent, last year’s deadly crackdown on protests that left hundreds dead, and ongoing attempts to destabilize the state. Moreover, The National Consensus Commission, entrusted with leading reform efforts, was ironically born out of exclusion. It left out the AL and twenty more allied parties, including the Jatiya Party, which has traditionally been the country’s third-largest political force and the primary opposition in recent parliaments.
However, AL is more than its last decade. It carries a rich legacy, and democratic decay is not AL’s unique pathology either. It is Bangladesh’s oldest party, the force that led the liberation war and carved out a democratic and secular Bangladesh. It stood at the forefront of pro-democracy movements in the 1980s and again in 2007. It also remains the only ruling party in Bangladesh’s history to transfer power peacefully after a credible election in 2001.
Erasing AL from the political scene would disenfranchise millions and may create a dangerous political vacuum. At its lowest ebb in 1991, it commanded 30 percent of votes; at its peak in credible elections, nearly 48 percent. When large populations feel unrepresented and oppressed, it can create a political vacuum for radical forces to exploit or drive AL supporters toward anti-democratic alternatives.
Restoring democratic norms, therefore, requires more than technocratic fixes—it demands a collective and inclusive political commitment. Reforms can only be durable and genuinely representative when they are built on a foundation of reconciliation and mutual legitimacy.
Effective democracy requires robust party systems with strong opposition to provide necessary checks on governmental power. Without a viable opposition, new governments could develop authoritarian tendencies, ironically reproducing the very dynamics that the July uprising sought to eliminate. Tunisia survived its post-Arab Spring chaos in part because former regime officials found refuge in Nidaa Tounes. Egypt, which excluded its incumbents, collapsed back into dictatorship.
That said, the AL also has a duty to reform itself, accept responsibility for its past, and engage with the transitional justice process. The party must assure the public of its commitment to safeguarding future democratic processes. To date, however, it has done little. It has failed to purge leaders accused of corruption and human rights violations, and many of its leaders continue to deflect responsibility.
But reconciliation cuts both ways. The interim government must abandon its zero-sum calculus and create space for all major political forces within a reformed system. This means ending mass arrests based on political affiliation, ensuring fair trials, and establishing genuine dialogue mechanisms. Bangladesh needs a cooperative framework that brings all parties into constructive competition, not a victor’s justice that perpetuates the cycle of exclusion and revenge.
Bangladesh stands at democracy’s crossroads, with signposts pointing in troubling directions. The interim government still faces a choice that will define Bangladesh’s future: pursue genuine reform and reconciliation, however politically costly, or preside over democracy’s slow strangulation while claiming to save it. That revolutionary energy created a rare window for transformation, but windows do not stay open forever. And when they shut, they often slam.
Views expressed are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect the positions of South Asian Voices, the Stimson Center, or our supporters.
Also Read: Bangladesh, A Year after the Uprising: Between Democratic Promise and Political Peril
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Image 1: Munbir Tanaha via Wikimedia Commons
Image 2: Rayhan9d via Wikimedia Commons
