Disillusioned by democracy, duped by development, the people have been left in limbo. The election was supposed to have been a chance for change, an opportunity for the people to stand up for what they believe in, but aspirations turned to ashes as innumerable voters were turned away from the polling centres, their votes already cast for them by ‘ghost’ voters. Franchise became a farce. What went wrong?
Would the incumbents have failed had the election been free, fair and credible? Would the opposition have been dancing on the streets today? These are million dollar questions left hanging in the air. But the overwhelming, unprecedented landslide victory of the ruling Awami League and its coalition of allies, gives rise to questions of credibility.
There is no point of delving into the details of the false votes, of voters being barred from casting their votes, of ballot boxes been stuffed in advance, of the opposition candidates’ polling agents bring driven away from the voting centres... the list goes on. These discrepancies are no secret and though the administration and the election commission may deny the allegations, the ruling party thugs who did the dirty work really didn’t bother to cover up or resort to clandestine tactics. They didn’t need to. Who would dare question them or resist?
Dr Kamal Hossain, leader of the opposition Jatiya Oikya Front, may holler himself hoarse with cries of ‘foul’, but who will heed his demand for a fresh election? All his eminence as a respected jurist fades fast in the glare of power, the power that has kept those at the helm, remaining at the helm.
It is time for retrospection. The defeated need to take time out to analyse where they went wrong. Even the victors need to step back from their euphoria and wonder why they had to take such extreme measures to achieve a victory which perhaps exceeded even their own expectations. And the people too need a breather. After being constantly bombarded with a confusing cacophony of campaigning, they have been left in a daze. The election has come and gone, and they stand in a state of utter confusion. Have we won, have we lost, have we got what we wanted, what was it that we wanted in the first place, do our voices count or are we just another brick in the wall?
Going back to the pre-election campaign, the ruling party used its development mantra to garner public support. The opposition called for a restoration of democracy. Rhetorically speaking, it was a development versus democracy contest. How far these messages actually made any difference is another question, but the development-democracy dilemma has long been played around by politicians and political scientists.
Digital development
Politicians, intellectuals and others who imagine themselves to be ensconced in the upper tiers of the social hierarchy have a propensity to underestimate the ‘masses’, the people who toil to keep up the country’s GDP, to maintain the influx of foreign exchange, to keep the wheels of the economy running relentlessly. It is unfortunate. The people of Bangladesh, in the fields of rice or in the factories sewing garments for export, do not complain of their back-breaking work. All they want is a decent wage, a simple and safe life where their family can be fed, educated and live in peace. What are they offered?
The Awami League government offered them development, or should it be ‘development’? To give it its due, the government did put development on the plate, as is evident in the flurry of numbers when it comes to GDP and other impressive digits, flyovers shooting up all over the city, Dhaka being dug up for the metro-rail, Padma Bridge, power plants and so on. But are the people taken in by all these?
When the development does not translate into jobs, where do the people stand? Unending lines of unemployed educated youth stands with their certificates in hand, hapless, helpless and frustrated. Sporadic outbursts against quotas and age restrictions in public service reflect their desperation, but to no avail. Demanding their rights, they do not find themselves behind office desks, they find themselves behind bars.
Development does not mean big digits in an economist’s notebook. It is more than money. It means social development too. It means socio-economic-political stability, it means proportionately growing incomes for the citizens, it means relative equality, it constitutes many things that people have been calling for - safe roads, free speech, law and order, peace and security, health, education, a minimum standard of living, living in dignity... do the people not have the right to ask for all this?
The ministers and leaders talk big about health achievements, when in actuality data shows they lie. Maternal mortality has increased, not dropped as they claim. Infant mortality has increased, not decreased as they claim. Family planning is totally ignored while the already burgeoning population growth scales upwards once again.
Education is just made up of impressive numbers, children passing their public exams with flying grades, but learning nothing. If they learn anything, it is how to get the leaked exam papers in advance so they can cheat their way through the tests, rather than slog over text books. So when employers turn to expatriate experts to give them jobs in their enterprises, can they be blamed? Can our youth be blamed if they have not been given the skills to meet the rapidly changing demands of the day? Is this education?
Prior to the development mantra, the government in the previous term offered youth the Digital Bangladesh dream. A clever ploy indeed which drew the young generation like bees to honey. But today as we struggle with slow internet connections, 3G, 4G turning into slow and ineffective 2G (if that) when it suits the government’s interests, where is all the digital hype? When you can’t express yourself freely on social media, what does digital mean? When sites are shut down at the whims of the powers-that-be, does ‘digital’ hold any relevance?
Disillusionment and democracy
And this is where the political opposition stepped in. Or should have stepped in.
The people were disillusioned. The farmer in the field had bumper production but received pittance for his produce. The garments workers rallied for higher wages, while the owners saw prices in the global market plummet. Youth were out of jobs, drug abuse escalated to unprecedented heights with stringent operations of the law enforcement not even making a dent in the drug dons’ business. Law, order and security spiraled out of hand with forced disappearances, murders, rapes, crossfire killings and more. The media and the public in general felt gagged, the authorities coming down hard with the digital security act and other unofficial means of curtailing free expression. The banking system became a farce, for the fat cats to dip in and take what they please, while depositors saw the interest on their hard-earned saving dwindle.
The political opposition noted all this and came up with what they deemed as the most appropriate mantra of the day - democracy.
After all, the people had struggled together against the autocratic regime of General Ershad to establish democracy, the basic tenet of our liberation war. They needed all that democracy had to offer-human rights, economic rights, social rights, political rights equal opportunities, freedom of expression and so on.
The ruling coterie on the other hand, offered development over democracy. They tried to say what was the use of all those rights and freedoms if one didn’t have three square meals a day, clothes on ones back and a roof over one’s head?
The thing is that all this is part and a parcel of democracy, but at the same time when it comes down to brass tacks - what is democracy? Political scientists and social scientists, the academics and intellectuals may come up with lofty definitions. BNP leaders and leaders of its coalition Jatiya Oikya Front addressed the public meetings and rallies, promising people a restoration of democracy. But is that what the people wanted to hear? Didn’t democracy ring rather vague and vacuous in ears that wanted to hear about tangible changes to their lives?
After all, their experience with democracy hasn’t been all that convincing. They have seen democracy in its diluted form and it has turned into a mere word propagated by the political establishment. In a recent article by journalists Yascha Mounk and Roberto Foa, they write about this apathy towards democracy and how wily political elements take advantage of this to lure in the people, as reflected in recent elections around the world: “They reflect a deep groundswell of anti-establishment sentiment that can be mobilised by extremist political parties and candidates. As a result, populists who disrespect some of the basic rules and norms of the democratic system have made rapid advances...” (Foreign Affairs, 28 December 2018).
The people of Bangladesh now wanted to see things that would make visible changes to their lives. They wanted fundamental rights. They wanted to be able to go to hospitals and actually get proper treatment when they fell ill, not wait in lines and bribe their way into the clinics only to receive third grade medical treatment. They wanted their children to learn in schools, grow up and get jobs, not turn to drugs in frustration. They wanted to be able to earn an honest living, not having to pay corrupt bureaucrats every step of the way even for a menial job as a municipal sweeper. They wanted to be able to go to the police station and be able to complain against being harassed by the local muscle men and they wanted their complaint to be heard and attended. The bottom line is - they wanted justice.
The people want justice. They haven’t seen a meaningful justice in the so-called democracy that has prevailed over the past couple of decades. Maybe justice is an innate part of democracy, but that is for the experts to dabble about. The people need to be told that they will be given justice and then the politicians who promise this, must live up to their commitment.
So BNP and the entire opposition coalition maybe could have offered the people a promise of justice rather than the abstract term ‘democracy’. Justice does not mean only going to the court and being given a fair deal. Justice means being able to walk down the streets without fear. It means being able to do business without the collateral pressure of bribery. It means have access to basic facilities of a modern socio-economic-political life-access to banks, education, health, information, being able to approach the law enforcement with assurance of results, access to the courts, getting due wages for labour, fair price for produce, not having to beg on the streets. It means saying ‘no’ to corruption, protecting the youth from drugs, ensuring them employment. It means, in short, living a life of dignity with the fundamental essentials being a right, not a privilege.
Maybe if the politicians offered this instead of ‘democracy’, it would not have made a difference in the election results. After all, the election victory and defeat is another story. But at least the people would know that the leaders out there understood their minds. They could hope. They could look forward to a future where they themselves could strive for justice with the help of those who were ready to support them, be by their side all the way.
The people are weary of the development-democracy carrot. It is time now that those in power and those who aspire to come to power, look beyond bridges and banking, beyond democracy dialectics and let the people of Bangladesh live in peace, prosperity, dignity, with pride, honour and justice. And therein lies the essence of true democracy.