Where is Bangladesh headed in the failure of liberal politics?

After the near-landslide victory of Islami Chhatra Shibir, the student wing of Jamaat-e-Islami, in the Dhaka University Central Students’ Union (DUCSU) election, a question has arisen: does this unexpected triumph signal the rise of Islamic parties in Bangladesh’s politics? University students are the most progressive section of the country and society; if they rally under a religious banner, it is only natural that this will have repercussions nationwide.

Yet many of us know that in the student union elections at Dhaka University or Jahangirnagar University, the victories of Shibir-backed candidates were not determined solely by religious ideology or principles. These votes were, in fact, against the status quo.

For years, at these two universities, Chhatra League and Chhatra Dal have alternated in seizing control under the patronage of their political guardians, abusing power in turn. They have resorted to control of halls, extortion and innumerable other misdeeds year after year.

Some explain it this way: the common students have rejected these two previously privileged groups. The vacuum that opened up was, for the moment, filled by Shibir. While Chhatra League and Chhatra Dal were busy with looting and plunder, Shibir activists engaged in “social welfare.” This was the chief reason for Shibir’s landslide victory.

But this is perhaps a somewhat simplistic explanation. Everyone in the country knows that Shibir is a religion-based political organisation. It is hardly believable that the most progressive citizens of the country would be unaware of this. They cast their votes for Shibir fully knowing its Islamic character and outlook. But why?

One possible reason is that many of these students agree with Shibir’s religious values, whether or not those values are visibly reflected in their daily lives. The larger reason, however, is the failure of liberal politics.
Failure of liberal politics

For the past five decades in Bangladesh, the political ideology officially practiced has essentially been liberal. Secularism, that is, separation of religion from politics, was at the centre of this mindset. Yet the promises embedded in the liberal order were never fulfilled. Secularism, with its formal expression in the separation of religion and state, could not meet our deeper spiritual needs.

It is from this rejection, born of failure, that students, and perhaps a large segment of society, have gradually turned toward a religion-based, right-leaning political culture. This failure of liberal culture is evident not only in Bangladesh but also in many countries across the world, including neighboring India.

First, let us ask: what do we mean by liberal political culture? Put simply, it is a system where individual rights and freedoms are guaranteed; where constitutional rule lies at the center of state power; where people enjoy the right to vote; and where all are equal before the law.

During the liberation war, the principles of “equality, human dignity, and social justice” were proclaimed. These may be considered the guiding values of a liberal order. The four founding principles declared in Bangladesh’s post-independence constitution were somewhat distinct from conventional liberalism, but their basis was clearly a liberal framework based on individual freedom.

This framework is admirable. But in practice, the promises behind it have never been realised in Bangladesh. Instead of equality, we have witnessed deepening economic disparity. Instead of democracy, we have been subjected to unrepresentative one-party, sometimes even one-person or one-family, rule. Instead of social justice, we have faced mountain-like corruption. Like others, students and young people have felt betrayed by this order. Among those under 25, the unemployment rate stands at nearly 15 per cent.

In this framework imported from the West, religion and the state were to be kept separate. However laudable as an ideal, in an agrarian and largely undereducated society like Bangladesh, where religion-based traditions lie at the very core of family and community culture, this “secular” system was never realistic. Politicians in power understood this before anyone else.
To survive in power, they needed political legitimacy. The easiest way to secure it was to cling to the mantle of religion. From the very beginning of independence, every ruling group in Bangladesh has sought to reinforce its legitimacy by turning to Islam. What we now call creeping Islamisation has its roots in this competition for legitimacy.

Think back. During Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman’s time, religious festivals were first organised under government management, and Islamic terminology began to be used on radio and television. Despite many objections, he established relations with various Islamic countries, including Pakistan.

When Ziaur Rahman lifted the ban on religion-based political parties, the return of Jamaat-e-Islami was accelerated. General Ershad declared Islam the state religion.

Sheikh Hasina went further than all of them: alongside expanding madrasa education nationwide, she granted it full recognition. During her tenure, the madrasa sector received the largest budget allocation ever. She introduced allowances for imams and built a nationwide network of government mosques. Statistics show that between 2019 and 2023, around 1 million students dropped out of government schools in Bangladesh, while the madrasa system enrolled an additional 250,000 new students.

In other words, every successive government has played a role, to a greater or lesser degree, in giving religion a central place in society and the state system. Under pressure from religious politicians, textbooks at the school level have gradually dropped lessons deemed “un-Islamic.” It is only natural, then, that this nurtured a conservative mindset among students about religion.

Many of those who recently won DUCSU and JUCSU elections under the banner of Shibir came through the new madrasa system. Their interest in and loyalty to religion-based politics and cultural values are thus quite natural. In fact, they are the harvest of the seeds of religion sown over the past five decades. So, is it really surprising that Shibir’s flag now flies at Dhaka or Jahangirnagar?

Not only in Bangladesh or neighboring India, but in most countries of the United States and Western Europe, the liberal order established after the Second World War has come under challenge. Rising in its place is post-liberalism, rooted in family, religion, and identity.

US Vice President JD Vance, Italy’s Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni, and Turkey’s President Erdoğan are among the proponents of this new political order. Russia’s President Putin and Hungary’s Prime Minister Orbán have openly declared themselves illiberal.

They all believe that the old liberalism, centered on individual freedom, is dead. What is needed now is a return to a system where family, religion, and community serve as the true foundations of state and social identity.
Even among intellectuals, this view has no shortage of supporters. American scholar Patrick Deneen argues that liberalism runs counter to community and traditional values.

British thinker John Milbank believes that by bringing religion back to the center of politics, humanity can overcome the global famine of values.
Indian politician and intellectual Shashi Tharoor also argues that it is the failure of liberalism that enabled the rise of the BJP and Hindutva. He himself has written books affirming his identity as a Hindu, something that would have been unthinkable fifteen or twenty years ago.

In Bangladesh, the importance of religion, community, and mosques is clearly visible in our social culture. Participation in Friday prayers or staying up late for sehri with friends has become extremely popular among young people.

Under the secular framework, we avoided religious, particularly Islamic, symbols. Beards and hijabs were subjects of ridicule. Today, however, young men and women of all ages openly wear beards or hijabs. This is evident if you look at the student leaders who won DUCSU and JUCSU elections, or their enthusiastic supporters.

Does this transformation mean that religion-based politics will soon dominate the political field in Bangladesh? In my view, this transition is neither automatic nor inevitable. There are certain obstacles or “road bumps” that will disrupt, or at least delay, the automatic Islamisation of our politics and society.

These obstacles include the continuing influence of secular-minded intellectuals and the elite class, the steadily rising voice of women in workplaces and civic culture, and the syncretic cultural heritage of the Bengali nation. These road bumps represent the achievements of liberalism over the past fifty years; they cannot simply be swept away at will.

Recognising this reality, religious political parties in the country have had to adjust their strategies. Jamaat-e-Islami has already indicated that it will welcome members of other faiths, including Hindus, into the party and will not interfere with women’s personal freedom or choices of dress. The inclusion of a woman and a student from a hill community in the DUCSU elections reflects this modified strategy.

Given the current state of politics in the country, it is understandable to feel that the nation is heading in the wrong direction. The spirit of the 1971 Liberation War stands in stark contrast to this backward trajectory. The failure of the Liberation War to deliver its intended benefits to everyone has contributed to today’s crisis. Yet this does not mean that religion-based politics is our inevitable fate. There is still room for necessary reforms and coordination. The responsibility for this lies not only with political parties, but also with intellectuals. They must clearly voice their opposition to radical Islamisation.

Another point is that for so long we have relinquished the authority to make right or wrong decisions to professional religious groups. Secular voices and platforms have not been built on religious matters. The time has come for writers, intellectuals, and politicians who can challenge this backward perspective to speak out boldly.

We also need organised resistance against ultra-conservatism. Those who invoke religion to remove evolution from textbooks, detect idolatry in Rabindranath’s songs, or seek morality in men’s and women’s clothing must be vocally opposed.

This work can be most effectively carried out by the students themselves, some of whom have even supported Jamaat-Shibir. I await their awakening.

* Hasan Ferdous is a journalist and writer
* The views expressed here is the author’s own