There was a young girl of Nic’ragua
Who smiled as she rode on a jaguar
They returned from the ride
with the young girl inside
And the smile on the face of the jaguar
— Anonymous
Squeezed between the fear and repression of despotic states and the violence and the lawlessness that emerge in their absence is a narrow corridor to liberty.
— Daron Acemoglu and James A. Robinson
Bangladesh has once again experienced a veritable revolution. On August 5, Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina, who inherited the mantle from her father, Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman—the nation’s assassinated founder and first president—resigned amidst widespread unrest. Her resignation, following fifteen years in power at a stretch, marks a significant crossroads in Bangladesh’s history. The scale and intensity of the street protests were unprecedented, culminating in the breach of her official residence. She has left Bangladesh for India which has been her strongest ally.
The catalyst for this upheaval was a student-led protest against the controversial “Quota Policy,” which reserved civil service jobs primarily for descendants of freedom fighters from the 1971 Liberation War. Many viewed this policy as a form of nepotism benefiting the ruling party’s affiliates. Although the Supreme Court eventually revised the policy under mounting pressure, the toll was heavy—hundreds of lives were lost, including at least 32 children, as reported by UNICEF. Throughout this period, the Bangladesh Army took a passive stance.
An interim government, led by Nobel Peace Laureate Muhammad Yunus, has taken the helm, with elections to follow. The country now faces the challenge of moving forward from the recent carnage. The agonies of families who lost loved ones cannot be forgotten; justice must be served, and memories honored.
This political turmoil comes at a time when Bangladesh is grappling significant economic and social challenges. The economy is faltering, foreign exchange reserves are dwindling, and debt servicing costs are escalating due to rising global interest rates, forcing cuts in vital investments in health and education. The politically inflicted decision to transition Bangladesh from its Least Developed Country (LDC) status could also have economic repercussions, particularly through even higher interest rate charges and loss of concessional tariffs that has powered Bangladesh’s garment industry. This decision, one hopes, will now be re-examined both by the current regime in Bangladesh as well as the United Nations based on sounder analysis, setting aside fictional data that propelled the movement toward LDC graduation.
Income inequality has surged, with a small elite controlling a disproportionate share of resources, often acquired through corrupt means. The banking sector exemplifies this corruption, with politically connected individuals receiving loans without customary due diligence. As a result, non-performing loans have soared, and many borrowers—and their supposed collateral—now untraceable. Once independent institutions have been subsumed into the political apparatus, where patronage determines outcomes. The pervasive political surveillance system must be dismantled to free citizens from the terror of nefarious agents. Bangladesh’s strategic location in the Indo-Pacific region has attracted the attention of major global powers, which carries both validation and risk. An old African proverb warns, “When two elephants fight, it is the ants that get crushed.”
Is there still hope for Bangladesh? As a lifelong partisan in hope, I say resoundingly, “Yes!” At independence in 1971, Bangladesh was the second poorest country in the world. Since then, Bangladesh has made remarkable strides, surpassing even its largest neighbor in per capita income. Nobel Laureate Amartya Sen has highlighted Bangladesh’s achievements in women’s emancipation, public health, and other social sectors, which remain unmatched in the region. The spirit of innovation and entrepreneurship that characterizes the Bangladeshi people will continue to drive the country forward, provided a respectable governance system is established and maintained.
I am not a believer in proud nationalism in any form, but I am deeply grateful for Bangladesh’s commitment to religious and ethnic harmony. Throughout our history, we have avoided the tyranny of the majority, particularly concerning religious and ethnic minorities. Every Hindu, Buddhist, Christian, Muslim, Marma, Chakma, Santal—every citizen—is equal under the law. Any attempt to diminish anyone’s rights must be met with unwavering resolve. If we falter here, we will lose a core part of the Bengali soul.
The moment Bangladesh loses its long-held values of secularity, it will be shunted down a path of ignominy. In times of such turmoil when bigotry can wreak havoc the new government must extend its greatest protection to the most vulnerable in society while holding abusers of power accountable through due process.
As we navigate these uncertain times, let us also extend compassion and solidarity to our Rohingya sisters and brothers, recognizing them as equal citizens. They have endured enough humiliation, violence, and deprivation— in their own country and in ours. We must free them from the confines of the camps that evoke horrors of history. The Romans had in one stretch extended citizenship to millions of people two millennia ago; we can certainly do the same. Camps belong to the Nazis; they conjure images of Auschwitz, Buchenwald, and Dachau. We, who champion freedom, must disavow these camps and let the Rohingyas be free.
In times of revolutionary fervor, the rush to mete out justice can be overwhelming. The Robespierres and their Committees of Safety are fast moving. We must not allow them to take control. Let us pursue justice and accountability but not mar our sense of fairness by denying even the most despicable suspects their full right to due process. One can understand the rage of those who have suffered in the hands of the autocrats who ruled Bangladesh for so long. But that’s no matter, we cannot compromise on the promise of a fair judicial process. Otherwise, we will have failed ourselves: as the adage goes, the children of the revolution will have devoured the revolution. Our ideals and hopes will vanish, and the bloodshed and tears will have been in vain. History, sadly, will repeat itself.