Bangladesh is once again approaching a moment of profound political uncertainty. The country’s long-suffering public, fatigued by decades of disappearances, impunity, and selective justice, had hoped that the post August transition would usher in a new culture of accountability. Instead, old anxieties are returning with alarming speed. Allegations surrounding tribunal “case-trading,” bail bargaining, and political maneuvering have converged with sudden high-level dismissals, including the removal of Chief Prosecutor Tajul, creating the impression that justice is once again being negotiated rather than delivered.

The deeper concern is not any single allegation. It is the emerging perception that Bangladesh’s institutions remain transactional, vulnerable to manipulation, and structurally continuous with the past. When the public begins to believe that nothing has changed, the legitimacy of any new government becomes fragile, regardless of electoral mandate.

Tribunal Controversy and the Firing of Chief Prosecutor Tajul

The sudden removal of Chief Prosecutor Tajul has become the focal point of public suspicion. If allegations of corruption and “case-management” within the International Crimes Tribunal are even partially credible, then the dismissal could be interpreted as a corrective measure, an attempt by the new administration to demonstrate seriousness about institutional cleansing. Yet the timing and context have created precisely the opposite impression.

Questions cannot be brushed aside any longer.

If Tajul is corrupt, why did they not accuse him during the tenure of the caretaker government? Why did they not launch the investigation when the reform movement was strongest, and goodwill was at its height? Why start attacking him now that BNP is in power and busy entrenching itself in authority?

These questions are relevant because credibility is as much a function of timing as veracity. In politics, last-minute squeals are seldom seen as crises of conscience. They are more aptly understood as weapons of partisan warfare. Accusations made only after one party loses power tend to look less like epiphanies of righteousness and more like chips being placed on the negotiating table.

Suspicion that Tajul’s ouster was not simply the work of a nation genuinely seeking justice has only been heightened by other departures linked to the transition. From prosecutors to tribunal judges to any other bureaucrats that happen to be politically troublesome, everyone connected to justice seems to be on the trading block these days. If this is cleaning house to its admirers, it looks suspiciously like selective downsizing to its critics.

If Tajul is corrupt, then let’s hear the proof. Let’s see the evidence. Let’s follow due process and let justice run its course without fear or favor. Otherwise, firing alone will not purify the waters. It will only make them murkier.

Why Now? The Politics of Delayed Allegations

The fact most damning to me about this whole situation is the timing of the allegations. Corruption within the tribunal didn’t happen recently. “Case-business”, crores worth of bail deals, manipulation of charge sheets- these all take time. Systematic cover-ups, if what’s being accused is true, would have been noticed by people within the system much earlier than BNP took charge.

The reason they couldn’t come forward until now makes one wonder what the BNP leadership has been doing since the student uprising liberated it in 2024. 

Maybe because they thought the caretaker government's system was too weak to risk a scandal.

Maybe because they were scared of backlash from the old bureaucracy still favoring the old government.

Or maybe they’re holding onto these accusations just to use them as ammunition in this political tug-of-war.

Regardless, any of these scenarios is unacceptable. Holding back allegations of corruption makes you look weak. Playing them makes you look cunning. And recklessly throwing them around makes people lose faith in justice, whether the charges are valid or trumped-up.

Bangladeshis have seen it happen over and over again. Independent of who’s in power, legal cases are thrown around like bargaining chips. File them. Withdrawn them. Stall them. Actions aren’t decided by evidence anymore but by whoever has the upper hand at the time. Bangladeshis see that and think “nothing’s changed. Only now its us who’re benefiting.”

If people begin to think that, you’re done for as a caretaker government. You can weather policy disputes and financial crises. You cannot weather the notion that you’re running the country in the same way the last lot did.

The core of how Tajul Islam “got into this mess” lies in a toxic internal breakdown within the International Crimes Tribunal (ICT) prosecution team that erupted into a public credibility crisis.

Tajul recommended the dismissal of fellow prosecutor Sultan Mahmud

In January 2026, while still Chief Prosecutor, Tajul formally wrote to the Law Ministry seeking the dismissal of fellow prosecutor Sultan Mahmud. He accused Mahmud of multiple counts of wrongdoing: disclosing sensitive information, meeting privately with witnesses and coaching their statements, attacking a court security officer, threatening marshals with a weapon, and subjecting his wife to domestic abuse, which she also alleged. Tajul alleged Mahmud violated rules on discipline, security, and ethics.

However, before the ministry acted, Tajul himself was removed on 23 February 2026. On that very day, Mahmud went public on social media, accusing Tajul and prosecutor Gazi Monawar Hossain Tamim of corruption, selective prosecution, questionable meetings with accused persons’ relatives, and turning the Chief Prosecutor’s office into a “money-making tool.”

The timing made it explosive. Mahmud suggested Tajul’s earlier letter was pre-emptive retaliation designed to discredit him if he exposed corruption. Tajul insists the allegations are baseless and retaliatory.

Thus, Tajul’s “mess” is not a proven corruption case, but a public institutional war—where internal disciplinary action collided with counter-allegations, damaging the tribunal’s credibility.

Continuity, Control, and the Shadow of Orchestration

Add these tribunal accusations to last week’s controversial dismissals and simmering street protests, and there are some who argue that we are witnessing backroom deals being struck by power brokers within the ruling alliance, or the old regime itself, or even foreign powers trying to sabotage Bangladesh’s democratic transition. Even if there are no backroom deals being struck, allowing people to believe that there are is harmful enough.

The structures of the state in Bangladesh are large and hierarchical, and, having been entrenched over decades, are not easily changed overnight. Sure, a new government can come in and command a democratic mandate, but it still faces a bureaucracy and court system built by the last government. There will be mixed messages. Reform will be inconsistent. Investigations may grind to a halt. Conflicting orders will be passed down.

But citizens rarely see the nuance between being hemmed in by the government’s own structure and politically compromised players keeping fellow players in place. When individuals with dubious pasts are sacked with little explanation, when only some corrupt officials are accused, and when tribunal rulings can be so easily manipulated, it’s easier for people to think: nothing has changed but the faces at the top.

And this is when conspiracy theories creep in. If people start to think that scandals are timed to hit opposition members when they are most needed (to control anger or reward loyalty), then the ruling party will never make a move that pleases everyone. Tajul’s firing will only lead citizens to believe there was some negotiation at play. Other people’s firings will look like political games.

Once conspiracies are believed, institutions stop working as they should. Politics seeps into everything.

A Logical Conclusion: Transparency or Turbulence

Bangladesh has reached a critical crossroads. Tajul’s removal (as well as that of other officials) could signal the start of meaningful institutional reform if it’s followed by substantive transparency measures. Corruption allegations should be thoroughly investigated through independent channels; results should be made public, and people should be held accountable regardless of political affiliation. Anything short of that will only deepen the public cynicism that justice is just another currency of negotiation.

Was Tajul corrupt? Who knows, but does it really matter? What matters is whether the institutions responsible for cleaning house are themselves trustworthy. If corruption was happening behind the scenes and got exposed only when politically opportune, then institutional reform is doomed from the start. If allegations are weaponized to artificially contain power struggles, then trust will be lost even more quickly.

Bangladesh has seen this movie before. Once Bangladeshis believe there’s been no real change, they will stop waiting for change via institutional means and take to the streets once more. Transitionary governments that inherit dysfunctional institutions have nowhere to operate under impunity. True reform will come when they can quickly demonstrate they will not act like their predecessors.

Is anyone playing politics with Bangladesh right now? We may never know for sure. But in politics, sometimes it doesn’t matter if it’s true only that people think it is. If people believe that justice can be bartered, prosecutors can disappear overnight without explanation, and corruption can be called out whenever it’s politically convenient, that modicum of legitimacy will be lost no matter what.

It’s that simple.