anA meeting was arranged a few weeks ago at the Dhaka Reporters Unit (DRU) to discuss the lives and livelihoods of people living near coal-powered power plants. Professors from both Bangladesh and abroad participated, along with activists, researchers, and authors writing in Bangla or English.
There is hope that the discussion will be mentioned in upcoming write-ups or speeches. Most of the speeches, however, appeared to be merely appeasing the organisers.
However, one victim present at the discussion revealed irregularities in the release of compensation—he had not received his money, and many others were missing their installments.
He apprehended that if a political government takes over, no further funds would be available and complications would only increase.
There is a fear that, just as cronies and cohorts of the political party embezzled compensation funds for the Padma Bridge, similar incidents might occur here.
A person from Rampal noted that when the issue was finally brought to light, little was done except compiling a list of so-called ‘dalal’ (middlemen).
I recalled that a UP member, Sudhangshu Mandal, who was caught at the time, publicly stated, “There are registered owners for some lands and unregistered landowners for others; no one knows these loopholes except the land revenue officer. Officials and employees at the DC office contacted the middleman Nasir—if the land belonged to the Hindu community, he would find a Hindu person; if it belonged to a fisherman, he would find a fisherman. They would take only the ID card, fabricate all the necessary documents, and collect the compensation money.” (Daily Sangbad, 18 August 2023).
The UP member also revealed that Nasir and his associates embezzled around 2 billion taka in this process. Nasir Kazi now owns a 10-storeyed hotel in Cox’s Bazar and a luxury apartment in Gulshan. Needless to say, politicians and bureaucrats in power maintain business dealings with middlemen like Nasir, allowing them to escape accountability.
Another sign of public distrust in the elected government is the sudden blocking of roads and railway by people with various demands. Some have termed the situation a “flood of demands,” while others describe it as a “tsunami of demands.”
They blame the interim government for its weakness to curb the situation. It seems public are not patient. They should wait a few days to present their demands to the next elected government.
Although proponents argue that allowing the interim government to implement long-term reforms will ultimately benefit the country, such philosophical statements offer little hope to those who feel deceived and deprived.
Many believe that waiting for a political government is too risky. The alleged victims of deprivation are among those who do not want to wait, especially since the bureaucrats—who are responsible for creating and sustaining the machine to deprive people—show no urgency in setting the internal clockwork in motion.
Does political government always dodge the issues?
The cycle of political evasion after coming to power, despite grand promises in election manifestos, is nothing new. History is full of examples where commitments were made, only to be conveniently forgotten once the elections were over.
Take, for example, the case of water hyacinths in Bengal. The British introduced this invasive species, which by the 1920s had clogged nearly every river, canal, and water body, causing immense agricultural losses. The economic damage to East Bengal was severe, and in the 1937 Bengal elections, all political parties vowed in their manifestos to rid the province of this menace. After forming the government, Sher-e-Bangla A.K. Fazlul Haq initiated the ‘Water Hyacinth Removal Programme.’ However, the promise never moved beyond symbolic gestures such as parades and the observance of ‘Water Hyacinth Week’ in April.
Land reform is another area where the people of this country have been repeatedly deceived. The promise of land rights was one of the driving forces behind the farmers’ support for the Pakistan movement. It was said that the abolition of the zamindari system would return land to the farmers. Initially, a landholding ceiling of 100 bighas was proposed, with the excess land to be distributed among the landless. But under pressure from West Pakistan, the ceiling was increased to 375 bighas to protect vested interests.
After Bangladesh’s independence in 1971, the ceiling was once again lowered to 100 bighas. However, political manipulation delayed the implementation. In 1972, the then-president signed the order only after ensuring that his own vast landholdings were secured under different names. In reality, no survey was conducted, and no excess land was redistributed. The ceiling was further revised to 60 bighas under the Land Reforms Ordinance of 1984, but this too remained unenforced. Most recently, in 2023, minor wording changes were made to the law, but no substantive reforms took place.
As a result, millions of farmers remain landless. Over 45% of Bangladesh’s labor force is engaged in agriculture, yet they do not own the land they cultivate. Leasing land has become increasingly difficult, and now, many farmers can only secure one-year cultivation rights after paying an advance. Despite their rhetoric of farmers being the “backbone of the nation,” political parties have done little to address these systemic issues.
Such persistent deprivations and betrayals have deeply eroded public trust in political governments. It is the responsibility of politicians to restore faith in governance. People are not slaves, and the sooner politicians recognize this, the better it will be—not only for their own survival but also for the stability and peace of the country.
Gawher Nayeem Warha is an author and researcher
He can be reached at wahragawher@gmail.com