My father used to tell a story about the book-buying behaviour of the nouveau riche from a certain region of the world. I don’t know how much of this is a reflection of reality, but here’s how it goes: a super-rich trader comes into a bookshop to order books for his drawing room cum library. He looks around the shop and then orders the bookseller to give him 100 yards of green books, 80 yards of red books, 60 yards of yellow… so on and so forth. He needs to fill the space of the few metres-long mahogany shelves built in his palace with colours of his choice—trying to get urban, modern, and earn some prestige.
Tagging a group of people with a derogatory name and thereby erasing the individuality of its members is one of the most effective ideological tools used by fascists. It is the starting point of the process of racialisation, leading to the construction of labels that are often associated with stereotypes, discrimination, and social hierarchies. Labelling a group of people with a derogatory name is also the first step to denying their humanity.
The judiciary is one of the three organs of the state and serves as the guardian of the Constitution. Its role is to keep the executive and Parliament in check. For a long time, the judiciary in Bangladesh fulfilled this role sufficiently well, earning the utmost confidence of the people.
Writing the history of the 1971 Liberation War, the most pivotal event in the region, remains a complex task. This war continues to shape the present, deeply influencing our understanding of the past.
It was unquestionably the duty of the mainstream media—especially during the internet blackout when people had no other source of news to turn to—to provide people with actual, factual information about their country, their people, and their government. It was only because the people “took the media into their own hands” through social media that they were able to fulfil the role of the media to inform, to educate, and to persuade.
The term “Bangalee-pahari conflict” is used as a contextual term for the English “ethnic conflict.” The rhetoric of ethnic conflict or ethnic violence views ethnic identity as an immutable feature of human nature. Or, in other words, these terms create the assumption that violence along ethnic lines is “primordial” or inherent to ethnic or cultural differences. This is seriously problematic because such assumptions normalise violence. In reality, both pahari/Indigenous people and the settler Bangalees are victims of state experimentation.
Between “July 34-36”, Bangladesh saw the explosion of a united democratic desire among people of all classes and professions. The demand for democracy was the revolutionary desire then. Following on from that, establishing meaningful democracy is going to be the true revolutionary programme now. The world is now calling it the Bangla Spring—the spring whose graffiti has adorned the walls of Dhaka.
No other government in this country's political history has been labelled “fascist” with such intensity, despite similar tendencies having existed before—at times to the same extent. The current context is unique in that it reflects the 15-year-long authoritarian rule of Awami League and its trickle-down oppression. Yet, understanding fascism is crucial if we seek to avoid the rise of another such regime.
The reform in education must present itself, first, as a rigorous economic reform programme. Otherwise, it will necessarily remain rhetorical, hyperbolic, even hypocritical. A meaningful reform of education for social transformation cannot be implemented without an equitable and democratic economic programme to elevate the subaltern classes, to put an end to their condition of subalternity.
Md Masdar Hossain, retired senior district and sessions judge and a legal practitioner, talks about securing judicial independence and ways to constitutional reform in the current context of Bangladesh in an interview with Priyam Paul of The Daily Star.
To make universities more autonomous, rules and regulations must be revised so that sectarian and partisan politics are not allowed to take over. This applies first to teachers and then to students. Teachers and students need to be aware of the importance of democratic practices, but this does not mean they should be used for political purposes. Universities must focus on the smooth functioning of education and the betterment of the country, rather than serving as a platform for political parties.
The past 15 years have seen the most severe narrowing of civic space, heightened surveillance, intimidation, and reprisals that often led to self-censorship. Rather than accountability for these violations, officials responsible were often rewarded for their misconduct. As we move forward with several reform agendas that can be implemented within a short timeframe, it is essential to have a national conversation on what "governance anchored in human rights" should truly look like.
During the July-August uprising, and in the decade leading up to it, the use of state and security agencies to surveil ordinary citizens became so ubiquitous that people self-censored on public technology platforms and migrated to private, encrypted messaging services. In response to these concerns, various civil society and industry groups are calling for the repeal of the Cyber Security Act, 2023 (CSA) and the dismantling of organisations like the National Telecommunications Monitoring Centre (NTMC) for undermining privacy and other fundamental rights.
With the collapse of the autocratic regime and appointment of a pro-renewable power and energy adviser, the current challenge lies in effectively implementing the goal of using renewable energy to tackle energy crises and achieve zero emissions. We must reflect on past events to understand the reasons behind the adoption of coal, oil, LNG, and nuclear power. This will enable us to clearly formulate short-term and long-term strategies to overcome the current crisis and break the vicious cycle of energy insecurity.
We need a feminism that embodies strong anti-capitalist critiques, one that fights against the neocolonial and neoliberal forces which make already privileged people even more privileged. We need a feminism that fights against the material obstacles experienced by all minoritised and marginalised communities. We need a feminism that is revolutionary, that is not restricted by any politics of funding, that is inseparable from grassroots struggles and resistance. What would such a feminist manifesto look like for Bangladesh?
Following the fall of Sheikh Hasina and the establishment of the interim government, the once powerful voices of women during the revolution are missing in the public sphere. Historically, women’s rights have been deprioritised or postponed in favour of broader societal objectives. In post-revolution Bangladesh, where there have been several worrying incidents involving violence, online harassment and moral policing, we find ourselves in a position where we are having to choose between voicing our concerns, or showing patience.
It is too soon to expect any significant economic changes, particularly as the previous government, led by Sheikh Hasina, left behind a fragile economy marked by high inflation, declining foreign exchange reserves, sluggish private investment, a growing debt burden, poor revenue collection, inefficiencies in development project implementation, and weak governance in the financial sector. Repairing the fractures within the economy will require persistent and arduous efforts over an extended period. However, the right strategies and sustained efforts can improve the economy.
Censorship, subtle and overt, concerned with both the sacred and secular, has been a characteristic of every post-independence, civilian and military, government.
