August 5 was a historic day for Bangladesh for more reasons than one. The Awami League (AL), the party whose cause was a cornerstone in Bangladesh's history, was ousted by the masses.

Since independence, political turmoil has been part of narratives closely related to Bangladesh. One of the factors which worked in the AL's favour, from the time the party assumed responsibility in 2009, was that it was regarded as the most progressive and liberal party to have gained power following liberation. At that point in time, AL's values struck a chord with the secular middle-class Bangladeshi. The preceding regimes association with elements such as the military, fundamentalism, and state-centric politics aided in this regard.

Fast forward to 2024, and one finds that the AL-led 14-party alliance's rule is being labelled "fascist."

The AL regime has been somewhat of a conundrum. The Perspective Plan of Bangladesh 2041 (PP 2041), which was published in 2020, envisioned to build on economic advancements and enhance the lives of people. The AL accommodated more public-private partnerships within the media world than any other party before and oversaw the widespread introductions of leading social media websites such as Facebook, YouTube, TikTok, and Instagram. Indeed, the regime looked outwards and allowed creative media productions to be released, which did not always comply with the more conservative National Broadcast Policy of 2014. Accordingly, the party is largely responsible for digitalising a new generation of Bangladeshis, many of whom have smartphones and global aspirations today and took to the streets during the recent protests. Student coordinators such as Nahid Islam and Asif Mahmud are surely part of that generation and are, in fact, products of "Digital Bangladesh."

"Digital Bangladesh" was a pillar that supported the party's return to the centre in 2009 and represented its defiance of right-wing politics. AL's reformist approaches resonated with the masses in the context of globalisation and the interrelatedness of international networks in the 21st century. Their alliance with left-wing parties enabled the AL to stay in power and inspire many in the country. But, as it has transpired, the 14-party alliance seems to have paved the way for more dreams than stairs to reach those ambitions.

The recent movement portrayed the angst and frustration of the people from various sectors in Bangladesh, including journalism. The protests that began in the first week of July should be credited for capturing on-the-ground reactions. The mass killings, detentions, disappearances and violence against unarmed protestors that took place during this movement truly called into question the ethos of AL's political mandate. Over 400 people have lost their lives during the quota reform movement between July 16 and August 4, with some claiming that the number may well be understated. It has also been put forward that hospital records have been tampered with and bodies hidden, further putting into question just how many people have sacrificed their lives to bring an end to AL's rule.

Students have always been integral to the political narrative of Bangladesh. The fall of the Ershad regime was not brought about only by workers, but students as well, who endeavoured to take the nation forward on the path of democracy. Students again played their part in 2008 and 2013, when the Shahbagh Protests signalled their support for secular and not communal politics. In 2024, students took a stance once against the fascist practices of the Awami regime.

The tragic reality is that the AL committed to preserving democracy in the country, but backed the said promise by fascist means. The quota reform movement, which eventually led to the AL government's end, stemmed from opposition to fascist practices which often granted AL supporters, activists, and leaders the license to terrorise communities around the country. Throughout its rule, the former ruling party publicly branded opposition parties, such as the Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP), and its allies as being fundamentalist and in conflict with the progressive agenda of the party.

While AL's statement may well be true when considering the realities of grassroots politics and the history of BNP and its allies, the Awami League's ideology also correlated with its globalist persuasions. The AL attained success in this sphere and was able to, for a period since 2009, be the flagbearer of the identity of the modern Bangladeshi. But, at present the premise of AL is being questioned and it remains to be seen how that plays out.

In essence, what the masses including the youths of Bangladesh have conveyed through this movement is that they are averse to right-wing politics in general, and both AL and BNP are considered part of that category today. This is very important to consider as we eventually transition to political-administrative rule again. Only time will tell whether progressive politics really do see the light of day in Bangladesh and who will be the leading stakeholders of the future. Meanwhile, the appointment of Nobel laureate Dr Muhammad Yunus as the chief of the interim government seems to be a step in the right direction.        

Nihad Nowsher works in business development.

Views expressed in this article are the author's own.

Follow The Daily Star Opinion on Facebook for the latest opinions, commentaries and analyses by experts and professionals. To contribute your article or letter to The Daily Star Opinion, see our guidelines for submission.

The former Awami League-led government had a longstanding tradition of involving artistes and celebrities in their election campaigns. Recently, popular actor Irfan Sajjad, who previously voiced support for anti-discrimination student movement, shared an incident on his Facebook profile related to this practice.

In his post, Irfan revealed, "During the previous election, I was offered a substantial sum to join their campaign. However, I politely declined, making it clear that I wouldn't align myself with any political party. In my view, none of the parties are deserving of my endorsement."

He continued, "I believe that actors, singers, directors, and all artistes are created by the people, for the people. It deeply saddens me to acknowledge that those artistes who supported atrocities while innocent lives were being lost have failed—not just as artistes, but as human beings. You may have seniority over us in the industry, but when it comes to humanity, you're far behind."

He went on to say, "I denounce you. I may not know who else was involved or supported these atrocities, but they share the same guilt. No matter how much you try to redeem yourselves now, it won't change anything."

Read more

‘Throw hot water on protesters’: ‘Alo Ashbei’ artistes’ WhatsApp group under fire

Yesterday, a private WhatsApp group titled "Alo Ashbei" was exposed, revealing conversations where several prominent figures in the entertainment industry were found openly criticising the student movement. These revelations are what Irfan Sajjad referred to in his recent post.

Be·​tray·​al

: violation of a person's trust or confidence, of a moral standard, a contract, etc.

Bangladesh has experienced a dramatic series of events in recent weeks. An interim government has been formed, and we await fair and transparent elections. But we would do well to remember the cycles of betrayal and trauma that have shaped the politics of the country and to resolve that they are not repeated again.

Underlying the mass agitation that eventually led to the downfall of the previous government is a deep sense of collective betrayal. The Awami League government betrayed the most fundamental of public trusts: the expectation that the state will not wilfully kill one's children. "My son was murdered," said Shopna, the mother of slain 18-year-old protester Rahat Hossain. "And not by civilians, but by law enforcement officers under government orders. My son was killed by a bullet bought with my tax money."

What began in early July as peaceful protests by Bangladeshi university students against the quota system in government job recruitment faced a full-scale government crackdown as the police, the military, and border guard paramilitaries were deployed to quell the unrest. An Awami League government that shamelessly clung to power for 15 years through rigged elections and persecution of the opposition unleashed its punitive might on student protesters and citizens. A curfew was declared, and internet and mobile phone networks were shut down.

Read more

The tasks ahead for Bangladesh

Betrayal has many faces, shapes and forms. At its core, though, is the experience of violation and trauma. The psychological effects of betrayal include anger, loss and grief, self-doubt, and preoccupation or an inability to let go of the precipitating events. Human beings do not compartmentalise these feelings. Emotions seep into political cultures where they have the potential to alter the course of a society.

In the wake of the police brutality, student organisers of the quota reform movement asked then Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina to apologise for what happened. It is easier to heal after betrayal when the responsible party takes ownership for what has happened. Regrettably, the Awami League government devoted its energies to denying responsibility, to pointing fingers at everyone but themselves.

The politics of betrayal in Bangladesh is painfully familiar to me. I am the daughter of the late Shah AMS Kibria. After joining the Awami League in 1992, my father was the finance minister of the government led by Sheikh Hasina from 1996 to 2001. Following that, he was a member of the opposition in parliament and a vocal critic of the rise of militancy, persecution of religious minorities, and state-sponsored political violence in the country.

On January 27, 2005, Shah AMS Kibria was assassinated by a grenade attack during a public meeting at his constituency in Sylhet.

Read more

Can the new leadership save the economy?

Following her husband's killing, the late Asma Kibria fought hard for a full and transparent investigation conducted independently of the BNP-Jamaat government of the time. I am reminded of her indomitable spirit when I hear Shamsi Ara Zaman, the mother of 27-year-old Tahir Zaman, a freelance photographer who was killed on July 17 when he went to film the protests, "I want justice. As a mother I will do whatever is necessary to get justice for my son."

When the Awami League was elected in 2009, we, the family, rejoiced. After four long years, we would get justice for my father's murder. Who more so than a government led by the political party that he had loyally served could be motivated to address the questions that had been haunting us since that fateful day in 2005? Who ordered the grenade attack on him? What was the source of the grenades?

For 15 years, the Awami League led by Sheikh Hasina has held the reins of government in Bangladesh. For 15 years, we have not seen a complete investigation and trial into our father/grandfather's murder. For 15 years, the crucial questions of motive, intent and plan remain unanswered.

It is of great sorrow to me that my mother never saw the justice that she sought. She died with the trauma of betrayal. "Where can we get justice," she said, "if even those he trusted the most do not have the will to find and punish his murderers?" Her trauma is now mine, to be passed down through the generations of our family.

Read more

Awami League: From progressive politics to fascism

Growing up, my parents instilled in me a deep appreciation for the ideals of the 1971 Liberation War and the sacrifices of those who gave their lives for the independence of Bangladesh. Over the past decade and a half, I have watched with dismay as the Awami League—the political party so closely tied with these iconic events—chose to politicise and weaponise this glorious history, using it to divide rather than unite the nation.

When I watched the terrifying footage of Abu Sayed, a student shot and killed during the quota reform protests, I felt the sting of many betrayals, one top of another and another. How could the government authorise the use of deadly force against unarmed student protesters? How could a government led by the Awami League, a party founded on principles of self-determination and democracy, turn on its own people? There is a sense in which I am grateful that my father is not around to see the moral degeneration of the party he served with dedication.

Bangladesh is now at a political crossroads. The country, I believe, can only heal from the trauma of betrayal if there is a concerted building of trust in public institutions and those who serve in them—whether it is a policeperson directing traffic or a clerk at the passport control office or a Supreme Court judge. The politicisation of our institutions must stop. After all, in the end, it is very easy to be betrayed by a political party or a political leader. But if we know that our public institutions are there to serve all of us, regardless of who is in power, it may not matter so much.

After all, as Shah AMS Kibria used to say, "We Bangalees can never be put down for long. We sacrificed our lives for freedom once and we will do so again if necessary."

Nazli Kibria is professor and interim chair of sociology at Boston University.

Views expressed in this article are the author's own.

Follow The Daily Star Opinion on Facebook for the latest opinions, commentaries and analyses by experts and professionals. To contribute your article or letter to The Daily Star Opinion, see our guidelines for submission.