When Awami League adopted the policy of acting as both the aggressor and the saviour, its secular and progressive well-wishers secretly feared that this misguided approach would, sooner or later, lead to an overwhelming rise of religion-based political forces once the party fell from power. They worried that this unchecked Islamist resurgence would be intolerant and seek a new form of counter-dominance.
Not many had foreseen that Sheikh Hasina would abandon her party leaders and activists, and flee in fear for her life to escape public outrage. But there were many who had long believed that her authoritarian rule would one day collapse, and that the political ground would then fall into the hands of the Islamists. This was not beyond imagination.
In a state, all citizens must have an equal share. But will equality among citizens be truly established merely when those who peddle secularism take their leave?
The real tragedy is that, even while understanding all this, Awami League’s well-wishers and its allied leftist organisations could not dissuade their leaders from engaging in the perilous politics of playing the religion card.
On the other hand, progressive individuals and organisations who had no bias toward Awami League and were fully aware of its playing the “ideological” card, also showed no signs of having reached any clear conclusion about how they would deal with the impending rise of Islamism.
I remember speaking as a discussant on the subject of the coming wave of Islamism at the launch of a book by Professor Ali Riaz on 23 July 2022. After the event, a young leftist friend of mine expressed surprise that I had so bluntly stated that the Islamists would inevitably rise in Bangladesh. I do not know exactly why he was surprised, but to me, the matter was never merely an unspoken fear or a distant possibility.
Awami League, on one hand, staged theatrics about fighting militancy, and on the other, safeguarded Sheikh Hasina’s Qawmi Mother "crown." Among the fiery wall slogans that opened many eyes in the July 2024 uprising was the one that expressed the irony: “If you’re with us, you’re one of us; if not, you’re a militant!” It seemed that the so-called intellectuals of the previous regime utterly failed to grasp this simple truth. Instead, the League’s leadership managed to implant in the public mind the question: “Who is the alternative?” successfully spreading the fear that without them, the militants would take over.
It was precisely because of this fear that a large section of secularists, even after witnessing horrific corruption, repression and misrule, kept repeating the same refrain: “Who is the alternative?” Many among the secular and progressive sections of society cannot deny their inclination toward Awami League rule. But a new reality has also emerged in Bangladesh after the League’s fall from power.
The broad concerns that secularists once voiced about the rise of Islamism are now being echoed by the tone, language, presence, and activities of some of the newly assertive Islamist political groups. In the days ahead, it remains to be seen how the various Islamist forces will shape their own party, factional, and overall political culture.
After Sheikh Hasina’s fall, various strands of Islamism in Bangladesh have become vocal and active. They have mobilised under both political and non-political banners. Some adhere to democracy and elections, while others envision internationalism or the establishment of a caliphate. In terms of goals, objectives, language, and demeanour, some may appear far-right, while others seem liberal or centrist. Where they will position themselves in electoral politics and which alliances they will form, remains unclear.
However, in post-uprising Bangladesh, a reality has emerged that transcends their organisational differences: within the sphere of identity politics, they have begun to assert their stake as the “Islamic” category. They appear to be in unanimous agreement, regardless of party affiliation, that, in the past, Islamists were not given public space; simply having Islamic markers such as beards, caps, or hijabs subjected people to discrimination, hardship, or oppression at various levels of society and the state. Consequently, Islamists now seek the immediate end of these injustices.
It is true that the Awami League absorbed the segments of Islamist groups it favoured into its own party while cornering those it disliked. In the political arena, it sought to prevent Jamaat-e-Islami from becoming a formidable rival and, for narrow partisan interests, manipulated the trials of war crimes. Just as it had suppressed the BNP at the grassroots level, it employed the same strategy against Jamaat. Therefore, the Awami League’s repression of Jamaat cannot accurately be portrayed as an attack on Islam itself.
However, the root of the problem runs much deeper. In post-independence Bangladesh, identity politics has positioned Islam in opposition to Bengali nationalism, creating a rigid conceptual divide or stereotype between secularism and Islam in which the two are seen as incompatible. This construction has solidified the divide between secularists and Islamists in the country.
In the following decades, the Awami League continuously nurtured this politics of division. Both sides have become extremely hostile and intolerant toward each other. In this environment of animosity and intolerance, secularists were relatively advantaged socially and economically, while marginalized Islamists faced various forms of social hardship and persecution. Today, Islamists seek an end to this harassment and demand the dignity and recognition they are entitled to.
Because Bengali nationalist politics had sidelined Islam, does that mean Islamist politics now seeks to erase Bengali identity? Is such a thing possible, or would its consequences ultimately be harmful?
In a state, all citizens must have an equal share. But will equality among citizens be truly established merely when those who peddle secularism take their leave? Is this merely a problem of a particular regime or ruler, or is it also linked to the effort to change the minds and hearts that perpetuate oppression and domination? After 5 August, we spoke of a new settlement and the creation of an inclusive society. The first step in this process was to give space to the neglected entity of “Islam” in identity politics. In this context, we have questioned the long-standing Bengali New Year processions and added symbols and memorials from the Sultanate period.
In the past, we have heard stories of students being oppressed in classrooms because of religious symbols, and we sought remedies for that. We consider this the first step toward inclusivity. But the idea of inclusivity falters when we see, in remote areas, shrines being demolished, caretakers beaten, judicial proceedings obstructed, various cultural practices restricted in the name of religion, and long-haired fakirs or the mentally ill being tied up, forcibly shaved, and made to bathe. The question arises: who are these new gatekeepers of culture, religion, and religious sentiment, who are, in effect, spreading exclusionary practices in society again? Believers hold that the guardian of religion is Allah Himself. So which human being is taking it upon themselves to become the protector of religion?
The greatest ailment of this society is the politics of division. In the fiery July uprising, after so much bloodshed, the people of this country hoped that such politics would end. Yet after July, it seems that we have actively contributed to making the Awami League’s politics of division successful.
Previously, the gatekeepers of politics and culture were the agents of the regime. Will those who were once oppressed and victimized now assume the role of gatekeepers? Will they persecute others in the name of protecting religion and society? Will they deny others their due justice? Or will they set an example by establishing justice even for those who denied them justice?
Because Bengali nationalist politics had sidelined Islam, does that mean Islamist politics now seeks to erase Bengali identity? Is such a thing possible, or would its consequences ultimately be harmful? After so much bloodshed, what we need is justice and the establishment of fairness. Revenge and vindictiveness, whatever form they take, cannot establish justice.
Those who sit in positions of power must remember that they are accountable not to a party or a group, but to all citizens. Their foremost commitment must be to build a country and a society that is equally livable for everyone.
* Sayeed Ferdous is pro-Vice Chancellor, Bangladesh Open University