With the national polls around six months away, the Awami League and the BNP are going to hold programmes and counter-programmes today and tomorrow to show off their strength on the streets.

The BNP will today march from Gabtoli to Jatrabari from 10:00am to 4:00pm in the capital and bring out processions in other cities and districts to realise its one-point demand for polls under a non-party interim government.

Sources in the BNP said instructions were given to all Dhaka north and South city units to ensure huge gatherings.

To counter BNP's programme, ruling Awami league will bring out what it termed "a march for peace and development" in the capital.

At 3:00pm today, Dhaka city (South) AL will bring out a procession from Institution of Engineers, Bangladesh, that will end at Dhanmondi 32. AL General Secretary Obaidul Quader will join the programme.

The unit is planning to gather over a lakh people in the event.

Besides, all city and districts units under Rajshahi, Chattogram, Barishal and Sylhet will bring out processions on the same time.

The next day, opposition BNP will also march from Uttara's Abdullahpur to Bahadur Shah Park in the Old Dhaka from 10:00am to 4:00pm.

Party sources said the road march programmes are for ensuring participation of the common people, adding that the fresh programmes will be announced after observing the marches.

On the other hand, AL leaders and activists will start marching from Satrasta intersection of Tejgaon to Mohakhali at 3:00pm.

They will also bring out processions in cities and districts under Rangpur, Dhaka, Khulna and Mymensingh divisions.

At its rally on July 12, the BNP announced that it would march in all city and district headquarters on July 18-19. Later, the AL decided to counter its archrival BNP's programmes.

Besides the processions, leaders and activists of 24 thanas and 75 wards under Dhaka south unit AL and 26 thanas, 63 wards and one union under Dhaka north unit AL will be at the party offices concerned from the morning on both days and they will be on the lookout for anyone trying to create any unwanted situation.

The history of Awami League (AL)—which started off as the Awami Muslim League (AML)—at 75 can be encapsulated under three headings: AL at birth; AL under Bangabandhu's leadership; and AL with Sheikh Hasina at the helm. From the time of its birth in 1949 to our liberation in 1971, AL can be credited with being either the author of or the main mover and participant in all democratic and cultural movements working tirelessly to strengthen the demand for the rights of the Bangalees in East Pakistan. No other party can claim to have singularly represented all our democratic aspirations as the Awami League during our days under Pakistan.

In the first phase, the two most important events that brought the AML to the forefront was first, the Language Movement, which united the people of East Pakistan and crystallised the efforts of AML to become the true voice of the people, and second, the 1954 provincial election under the banner of United Front (Jukta Front), in which AML was by far the biggest and most active partner, getting 143 seats as the party and 228 seats as part of the Jukta Front out of a total of 309 seats. These events marked AML's coming of age.

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Mahfuz Anam writes: What is the state of Awami League as a political party?

The 1954 election proved that there was a far deeper significance of AML's birth than many people realised then and even now. It has not been studied in depth, and its significance has not been fully evaluated in subsequent research and books that have been published since. It was the beginning of the disillusionment with the ideology of Pakistan; it was the start of questioning as to whether religion could be the only foundation of a newly formed state; it presented evidence that people lost confidence in the founding party of Pakistan, the Muslim League, which never recovered later, except under the military tutelage.

Almost all the leaders who formed the new party were integral parts of the Pakistan movement, and some of them, like Shaheed Suhrawardy and Maulana Bhashani, were its front-ranking leaders. So, why after succeeding to carve out Pakistan, would these leaders and thousands of their followers move away from the party—the Muslim League—that founded the new country?

Awami League members in the cabinet of AK Fazlul Huq in East Bengal, 1954. FILE PHOTO: WIKIMEDIA COMMONS

The answer is very simple. With Pakistan's birth, Muslim League suddenly revealed itself to be devoted to serve the interest of the feudal landed gentry from West Pakistan, especially that of Punjab. The so-called Pakistani leadership was not concerned with its multiple and varied linguistic and cultural heritage. Bangalees, who constituted the majority of the new country's population, found their economic rights and cultural heritage ignored and their language, Bangla, denied the status of being a state language. In fact, the death of the new country was signalled by the very man who founded it, Quaid-e-Azam Muhammad Ali Jinnah, when he declared in Dhaka, "Let there be no doubt that Urdu and Urdu shall be the only national language of Pakistan." That was the beginning of the end of Pakistan founded in 1947.

The victory in the 1970 general election, under Bangabandhu's leadership, was Awami League's biggest, most sweeping and politically critical achievement in that period. In many ways, it was the precursor to our Liberation War. That electoral victory gave AL the legal, moral and political right to speak on behalf of the people of East Pakistan, and declare independence and start the armed struggle when genocide was imposed on our unarmed people.

It was under Bangabandhu's stewardship that Awami League truly expanded its appeal to the masses and captured the imagination of the Bangalees. His was a dazzling phase—truly energising, deeply penetrating and fully capturing the attention, support and devotion of millions of ordinary people. His Six-Point Programme galvanised the people as never before and hardened their resolve to fight for their economic, cultural and political rights. Those of us, as student activists, who were witness to his meteoric rise, who had the privilege to hear his mesmerising speeches and marvelled at his courage in facing both the Pakistani elite and its formidable armed forces, and saw firsthand how he unified the Bangalees with his unmatched charisma, felt in our hearts that finally we had a leader who could realise the dream of our freedom and independence.

The victory in the 1970 general election, under Bangabandhu's leadership, was Awami League's biggest, most sweeping and politically critical achievement in that period. In many ways, it was the precursor to our Liberation War. That electoral victory gave AL the legal, moral and political right to speak on behalf of the people of East Pakistan, and declare independence and start the armed struggle when genocide was imposed on our unarmed people. AL's leadership, the role of the Mujibnagar government and especially that of war-time PM Tajuddin Ahmad were remarkable in every way. Though physically absent, Bangabandhu was present in every mukti joddha camp, and in the hearts and minds of everyone who fought for our independence.

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Bangabandhu's brutal killing, along with all members of his immediate family, save the two daughters—our current PM and her sister—was the most tragic event that could have befallen us, and from which we are yet to fully recover.

Of Awami League's 75 years of existence, the last 43 have been under Sheikh Hasina's leadership. Since her return from exile in India in 1981 till date, she rebuilt AL after it suffered from deep existential crises following the brutal murder of Bangabandhu. She has not only successfully re-organised and re-energised the party, but also brought it to power in 1996, after 21 years of being in the opposition. She returned to power in 2008 and has continued till date, well on her way to completing an unbroken spell of 20 years of heading our government.

During her last 15 years of unbroken rule, she brought about remarkable advancement in the country's economic field. Her spectacular success in infrastructure development and power generation, with the capacity cost aspect being seriously questioned, is highly laudable. Bangladesh's praiseworthy rise up the development ladder can definitely be attributed to Sheikh Hasina's able and determined running of the state's affairs.

Awami League members bring out a procession on June 21, 2024, on the occasion of the party's 75th anniversary. PHOTO: PALASH KHAN

However, her grand success came with some very damaging costs. As is evidenced in history, a party in opposition and the same party in power, especially when the stay is long, presents two radically different pictures. The Awami League that began as the voice of the people has now ended up being that of an individual. The more the party stayed in power, the more its operations became centralised. From the smallest to the most significant policy decisions, they are no longer the result of debates within its ranks, but personnel choices of the leadership. From local leaders to the central, from nominations to every single post in all the levels of the elected office, the leader's wish is everybody's command.

Today, it is one of the most centralised parties anywhere in the world with the inevitable consequence of rising authoritarian tendencies in all levels of the leadership structure. The micromanagement of the party has had the same consequences as it always does: of there being no delegation of authority, no accountability at any level, and no sense of ownership of what the party does, except to carry out orders from the top.

Elections, a crucial measure of judging how a political party is faring in the public eye, is no longer valid in Bangladesh. It has lost its fundamental ability to elect genuine representatives of the people, due to both the ruling party's grip on all state institutions that guarantee free polls and the opposition's unthinking boycott of elections. Making voters insignificant has been a hallmark of the last three general elections.

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Mahfuz Anam writes: From Bangabandhu to Sheikh Hasina

As AL celebrates 75 years of its existence, there are many reasons for it to be proud of. It has many achievements that others can be envious about. Compared to many political parties in different parts of the world, AL's record can be considered exceptional.

But there are an equal number of reasons for it to be deeply concerned. Money and muscle power have replaced people's power in the day-to-day operation of this party that people once unquestioningly obeyed and unreservedly loved. Except for a few at the top, party positions today are up for grabs by the rich and the corrupt. The victory of a large number of AL's own "disobeying" candidates in the last election stands as proof as to how corrupt the original selection process was.

The party today is its own judge and jury. It only speaks to the mirror because it cannot tolerate the retort that would come if it spoke to the people. It listens only to its own music as other tunes are unpalatable. It is intoxicated by its own rhetoric and mesmerised by only those things that it wishes to see. It is a typical example of a political party living in its own bubble. And since it has monopoly control on all the levers of power, the bubble, as fragile as it is, can also be dangerous. This is so because the reality presented by the bubble can form the basis of decisions that can fatally harm us all. The handling of the issue of corruption, money laundering, misuse of power, and especially that of defaulted loans and the treatment meted out to wilful defaulters cannot be but the results of living in a bubble.

We hope we have given enough food for thought to the Awami League on its 75th anniversary.

Mahfuz Anam is the editor and publisher of The Daily Star.

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Calling the January 7 election a victory of democracy and people of the country, ruling Awami League General Secretary Obaidul Quader today said that voters had boycotted the BNP for boycotting the election.

He made the claim while talking to reporters at the office of Dhaka district unit of Awami League in Tejgaon.

"The BNP did not participate in the election but they wanted to foil the election. The BNP carried out terrorism and arson attacks to thwart the election, but the people rejected them through ballots," he said.

People gave massive support to the Awami League through extending their support to Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina, he said.

Quader, also road, transport and bridges minister, said the chief election commissioner has already said that more than 40 percent of the vote has been cast.

Calling the election a victory of democracy, he said they were most grateful to the people of Bangladesh in the 12th parliamentary election.

Through this election, the people of the whole world and Bangladesh have witnessed the victory of the people, he claimed.

Quader said the people voted for the candidates of their choice and there was no intimidation or interference in voting.

The election will strengthen the democratic progress further, he added.

The student-public uprising of July-August 2024 in Bangladesh, which culminated in the ousting of Sheikh Hasina's authoritarian government, defies the conventional narratives surrounding democratic movements. Unlike classic political revolutions, this uprising did not forge a new collective language centered on ideals like democracy or pluralism. Instead, it was propelled by a singular and organically emerging objective: removing an increasingly authoritarian regime. The movement's success hinged not on a visionary articulation of a shared future but on a pragmatic alignment of political, social, and civic forces around a common goal.

For years, Bangladesh's political landscape had been dominated by the toxic binaries of "pro-Liberation" versus "anti-Liberation" forces, a narrative deftly deployed by the ruling Awami League to marginalise opposition parties. The anti-discrimination student movement that spearheaded this summer's protests managed to challenge and neutralise this binary opposition. Their slogan, "Who are you? Who am I? Razakar! Razakar! Who said so? Who said so? Dictator! Dictator!"—with 'razakars' referring to collaborators with the Pakistani army during the 1971 Bangladesh Liberation War—served as a powerful tool to dismantle the Awami League's divisive rhetoric. This seemingly simple yet powerful slogan created a rare public space where individuals from various political backgrounds, including those previously silenced or stigmatised, could voice their grievances.

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The critical challenges facing the economy

Yet, despite this, it would be a mistake to overemphasise the role of language or slogans in the success of the uprising. The real driver of the movement was bound by the urgent, shared goal of toppling an oppressive regime that had, for over a decade and a half, used state power to repress political dissent, co-opt civil society, and silence opposition. The deaths of more than 400 Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP) activists during the protests signalled the high stakes of the movement, but their involvement was notably subdued. Their participation was largely concealed under the broader banner of student-led protests.

This raises a critical question: why did the student-public uprising succeed where established political parties like the BNP failed, despite their shared goal of regime change? The answer lies in a deep-seated political distrust that had taken root among the Bangladeshi public. For years, parties like the BNP had struggled to build movements capable of galvanising widespread support. Their language of democracy and pluralism rang hollow in a society that had become disillusioned with the very notion of political integrity. The public's willingness to engage with traditional parties had been eroded by decades of political corruption, entrenched narratives of division, and the government's effective use of the 'development' discourse to mask civic disenfranchisement.

The student movement, in contrast, benefited from its lack of established political identity. It was not weighed down by a history of electoral losses, internal corruption, or failed attempts at coalition-building. By leading a protest against discrimination in government recruitment—an issue that resonated deeply with young people frustrated by the lack of opportunities—the students managed to unify disparate groups. The movement's strength was its ability to articulate the public's growing discontent with an authoritarian regime that had long disrespected its citizens, masked by claims of national development.

The fall of Sheikh Hasina's government was the ultimate, if unspoken, objective that united both political actors and non-political participants in the movement. While the initial demands focused on reforming the civil service quota system, the government's brutal response to peaceful protests quickly expanded the movement's scope to shift focus from from social reform to outright regime change. By early August, the call for Sheikh Hasina's resignation had become the movement's de facto singular objective, even though this demand was formally declared only weeks after the protests began.

Rather than a shared aspiration for democracy or pluralism, the movement's true collective language was the common desire to end authoritarian rule. It was not a vision of a future democratic state that unified protesters; it was a rejection of the present authoritarian regime and the repressive tactics it employed.

Ironically, the student movement's success in crafting a public space where diverse political actors could rally under a common banner also sowed the seeds of future divisions. Without a shared understanding of what should follow Sheikh Hasina's removal, ideological divisions re-emerged and triggered internal conflicts within the movement. This is not unusual in movements focused primarily on opposition to a common enemy rather than a shared vision of governance.

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The cheapening of life and the struggle for the state

The post-uprising disunity highlights an essential truth about political revolutions: the language that unites a movement in opposition is often insufficient to sustain it in power. The lack of a deeper, collective vision for Bangladesh's future beyond the remarkable fall of Sheikh Hasina reflects the fact that the student movement, despite its success, did not generate a new political language for the country. 

After Sheikh Hasina's ouster, Bangladesh faces a critical juncture: developing an inclusive political language to tackle corruption, civic disenfranchisement, and social inequality. While the student movement toppled the regime, it did not—and perhaps could not—lay the foundation for a democratic future, which requires a broader reimagining of the political landscape.

In sum, the July-August 2024 uprising in Bangladesh shows that a clear and simple goal—removing an authoritarian regime—can unite diverse actors, but the real challenge ahead is building a sustainable and inclusive political future, for which the country still seeks its collective language.

Dr Kazi A S M Nurul Huda is an associate professor of philosophy at the University of Dhaka.

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.

Once a fierce critic of the Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP), former Foreign Minister Dr Hasan Mahmud now finds himself in an unexpected role. The Awami League (AL) politician, who is currently in London, recently sang praises for the BNP—or, as some may put it, he tried "wooing" his once-despised rival. After 15-plus years of relentless criticism and jabs aimed at the BNP, Hasan's sudden pivot, following the ouster of his government through the July uprising, has left political analysts and laypeople scratching their heads. A tale as twisted as a Dickensian plot, his evolution from BNP's heckler to a begrudging admirer is nothing short of literary satire.

Let's rewind to a simpler time: the era of Mahmud's full-throated attacks on the BNP, almost as consistent as the sunrise, and twice as intense. He labelled BNP as a "party of parasites" and often credited them with conjuring chaos as easily as Shakespeare's Iago wove schemes in Othello. BNP leaders, according to him, were architects of anarchy, always "misleading the masses" and "haunted by the 'Tarique-ghost,'" referring to the party's acting chairman, Tarique Rahman. His words were chosen with such precision and relish, it was as if he had plucked them from Dante's Inferno, casting BNP leaders into circles of political damnation.

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One could almost hear his booming voice, drenched in theatrical scorn, recounting BNP's supposed failure to win the people's favour as he proudly paraded AL's achievements with an air of unearned grandeur. "The BNP presented a fake adviser to Joe Biden," he would proclaim with mock indignation, using his platform like a mediaeval troubadour, weaving tales of his rivals' bumbling with all the flair of a Marlowe villain.

With the authoritarian AL regime suddenly overthrown, Mahmud went from denouncing BNP's every move to extolling the virtues of "restoring democracy," a concept he had once wielded as a cudgel to suppress dissent. His rhetoric, once thick with sarcasm and scorn, now drips with the honeyed appeal of a suitor attempting to rekindle an old flame—except, of course, that the "old flame" is the very party he tried to extinguish.

Now, as if reliving Romeo and Juliet, he calls for "working together" with the BNP for the "greater good" of Bangladesh. In an ironic twist, Mahmud has become something of a Capulet seeking Montague's embrace, promising a collaborative future he once vehemently rejected. Some critics have taken to calling this performance "The Tragedy of Dr Hasan," a farce in which a once-proud antagonist now plays the role of political supplicant.

It was not long ago that Mahmud championed AL's "unassailable" record of peace and prosperity. He proclaimed with the conviction of an orator from ancient Greece that his party had brought unprecedented development to the country. He scoffed at BNP's concerns for democratic reforms, dismissing them as desperate ploys of a "party that cannot survive without scandal." He scoffed at BNP's advocacy for free and fair elections, dismissing it as an "elaborate hypocrisy." And yet, here he stands now, as humbled as King Lear on the stormy heath, calling for the very reforms he once deemed folly.

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A moment of truth for BNP

At a recent event—his first appearance after weeks of silence post-uprising—Mahmud appeared almost repentant, though it was clear that old habits die hard. Attempting a dignified pivot, he assured his audience that he was "always an advocate for democratic values." The line was delivered with the sincerity of a character in a Restoration comedy, and the audience responded with what could only be described as a collective gasp of incredulity.

A keen observer might draw comparisons to Chaucer's Pardoner, a man who sells indulgences with a face so earnest that one could almost forget his dubious dealings. Much like the Pardoner, his newfound alignment with BNP's calls for transparency and electoral fairness reeks of opportunism dressed as redemption. "I agree with the BNP on many issues," he declared in a voice as smooth as an actor's monologue, his words carefully rehearsed for maximum effect.

Mahmud has gone beyond mere agreement; he now echoes BNP's proposals as if they were his own, including the idea of a bicameral parliament. With a straight face, he praised BNP's acting chairman for "championing the cause of intellectual inclusion," seemingly oblivious to his own years-long campaign against him and the BNP. In a feat of cognitive dissonance that would make Orwell proud, Mahmud now promotes Tarique's vision for governance reform, a cause he had once called "antithetical to Bangladesh's stability."

One might wonder, is this newfound admiration genuine, or merely a last-ditch attempt to salvage his relevance in the present scenario? Perhaps he sees himself as a transformed man, like Scrooge on Christmas morning, proclaiming his repentance to an unsuspecting world. Yet, unlike Scrooge, Mahmud lacks the charm of a man humbled by self-awareness; instead, he projects the aura of a politician whose convictions change as easily as the tides.

This metamorphosis, this shedding of old skin for a new one, is almost too convenient to believe. Just as Shakespeare's Polonius is quick to switch allegiances to remain in favour with the court, Mahmud's chameleon-like shift seems less an act of principle and more a strategy of survival. The difference, however, is that Polonius's fickleness ultimately led to his downfall—a cautionary tale that Mahmud might do well to heed.

In his newfound role as BNP's begrudging ally, Mahmud's journey resembles that of a character from Molière—perhaps Tartuffe, the unctuous hypocrite who feigns virtue to gain favour. If history is any guide, his overtures will likely be met with the same distrust and ridicule as Tartuffe's grand gestures. After all, in the court of public opinion, where actions speak louder than words, Mahmud's record as AL's attack dog cannot be erased with a few conciliatory statements.

As we watch this spectacle unfold, one cannot help but see the humour in Mahmud's plight. Here is a man who spent over a decade railing against BNP's every move, only to find himself on the other side of the table, professing solidarity with those he once derided. It is a tale worthy of satire, a drama of contradictions played out on the national stage. Perhaps the moral of Mahmud's story is one he himself might struggle to accept: that in politics, as in literature, irony has a way of catching up with those who least expect it.

HM Nazmul Alam is lecturer at the Department of English and Modern Languages in the International University of Business, Agriculture and Technology (IUBAT). He can be reached at nazmulalam.rijohn@gmail.com.

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.