DUCSU-JnUCSU: Shibir’s victory, death knell of old-school politics, and Gen Z psyche

The results of the recent student union elections at Bangladesh’s major public universities are intriguing, but not unexpected. Voters themselves could sense what the outcome was likely to be.

I am connected on Facebook with many students from almost all public universities. After each student union election, I asked several of them for their candid opinions on why the results turned out the way they did.

Before doing so, I carefully reviewed their profiles and posts. Those whom I could identify as activists or supporters of Islami Chhatra Shibir, Chhatra Dal, or left-wing organisations were excluded from my list. Instead, I selected those who appeared outwardly quiet and seemingly neutral—students who are not very active on Facebook, do not post frequently, but do respond to important posts.

I informed them via my email that they could share their views if they wished. Most of them responded. By now, I have also received several opinions regarding the most recent Jagannath University Central Students’ Union (JnUCSU) election.

Social science researchers and students in Bangladesh could undertake excellent research on this issue. There is no doubt they would find striking results. Such research is necessary to understand the direction Bangladesh’s politics is taking.

In response to my request, female students were more forthcoming than male students. Their ability to engage in deeper, more substantive analysis also appeared stronger than that of their male counterparts. In any case, after synthesising and reassessing the respondents’ accounts, I became convinced that if Islami Chhatra Shibir’s sweeping victory is viewed merely as a momentary shock or a temporary surprise, it will be impossible to grasp the new trajectory of social politics in Bangladesh and the critical turning points it is now passing through.

In Bangladesh, children from rural communities and the lower-middle-class families of small towns are rapidly entering the ranks of the urban middle class. These are the people we call Gen Z. They will also determine the future trajectory of Bangladesh’s politics. This is because their worldview is different from that of the two preceding generations (Millennials and Generation X). Even in their differences, Gen Z interacts, exchanges knowledge, and communicates most extensively with these two generations. Their distinct and independent mindset has developed by observing, analysing, and reflecting on the political, economic, and social perspectives—both correct and flawed—of these generations.

Gen Alpha, on the other hand, is still very young. The first wave of Gen Alpha is only around twelve or thirteen years old, or in early adolescence. A major source of Gen Z’s unique strength will also be their relationship and close engagement with Gen Alpha. In other words, Gen Z is the only generation actively interacting across four generations. Their influence on Gen Alpha will also be immense.

Although this discussion may initially seem disjointed, readers will understand by the end how deeply interconnected all these elements truly are.

One respondent shared a long opinion. Rather than just an opinion, it is better described as a case study that opens one’s eyes. I am summarising it briefly.

"I had thought I would vote for whoever I liked. But my mother said—make sure to vote for Chhatra Shibir. I love my mother, so there was no question of disregarding her advice. We come from a lower-middle-class family and are not particularly well-off. My father runs a medicine shop in a small town. He used to be with JASAD, and later leaned somewhat towards the Awami League. My mother teaches at a primary school. I have never heard her express support for Jamaat or Shibir. My elder brother is ten years older than me and was actively involved in Chhatra Dal. I asked both of them—Mother is asking me to vote for Chhatra Shibir. What do you think? Both said—do whatever you feel is right."

"Even though my father and elder brother are naturally quite authoritative, I felt honoured that they respected my own judgment. Yet, I was curious why my mother made the request, so I asked her—'Were you ever part of Jamaat or Shibir?' My mother said—'Never, not now either. But another female colleague at my school comes from a family involved in Jamaat politics. During Sheikh Hasina’s rule, at one point, her entire family and relatives were subjected to such persecution and oppression that words cannot describe it. The most painful incident was when her SSC student son, along with four friends, was abducted by Chhatra League activists, brutally tortured, and is still traumatised. The boy had been one of the top three students in Class Ten. He could never sit for exams again. All five boys were once students at my primary school. According to me, they were all good students—well-mannered, calm, and gentle. Chhatra Shibir never mistreated them. Yet, because one boy’s family was connected to Jamaat, the lives and futures of five boys and five families were destroyed."

"I asked my mother—did your colleague ask you to tell me to vote for Chhatra Shibir? She said—no! The moment she saw me at school, she naturally thought she would tell me, but she forgot. She has never forgotten it since. My mother’s intense sense of guilt meant she could do nothing except pray for that young boy. In asking me, she saw it as fulfilling at least a small social responsibility."

"Earlier, I knew which party my parents would have voted for if they could vote. This time, speaking about parliamentary elections, my mother said—she would not vote for a party, but for a person, the truly deserving candidate. I voted in the same way."

Where does water from one place flow to another? How does a vote from one area end up in a particular candidate’s box? This incident once again shows that Bangladeshi society is still a human network of relatives, friends, colleagues, and close associates—an interconnected web. It can be mind-boggling when you think about it. The student in question is Gen Z. Her elder brother is a Millennial, or Gen Y. Her parents are Gen X. She is in contact with all three generations, and her mindset has therefore matured considerably.

After the 1990 mass uprising, there was tremendous potential for the emergence of a politically active middle class in Bangladesh. Even though the first parliamentary government could not fully meet the people’s expectations, it did not disappoint the nation entirely—good and bad, right and wrong considered. The potential was growing.
From 1996 onwards, however, the political culture began to decline. Political activity gradually worsened, and by 2016, it had reached its worst state. Control over politics had passed into the hands of corruption’s heirs: capitalists, businessmen, looters, and loan defaulters involved in money laundering.

Rather than rising to become a middle-class political force, much of the lower-middle-class population from small towns was left behind. Those who entered politics directly joined the ranks of the upper class. The methods, of course, were plunder, terror, and corruption. Evidence includes the Prime Minister’s own acknowledgment of her aide owning four hundred crore taka, the price of a single pillow in the Rooppur project being thirty-five thousand taka, Hadi’s killer Faisal’s ward-level gangster holding nearly three hundred crore taka in bank cheques, the emperors’ hoards of thousands of crores in safes and fridges, thirty thousand crore taka embezzled from banks, and not even institutions like BUET escaping the wrath of gang rule—such as in the murder of Abrar Fahad.

Even though Gen X (the student’s parents’ generation) witnessed all three phases firsthand, they could effect no change. Gen X achieved nothing worth emulating; their moral authority was minimal. To Gen Z, they appear as failures. The sacrifices of the old political generation have led Gen Z to develop the idea of a third political force.

The terrorist activities of the Awami League–Chhatra League, their attempts to control everything through sheer force, have backfired. Opinions collected from other students echoed the same sentiment. Nearly all reported seeing, hearing, or knowing similar incidents within their circles of relatives and acquaintances.

I see no reason to interpret Shibir’s victory as a triumph of religion-based politics. Rather, the larger message is clear—“old-school politics” will no longer work in Bangladesh. Almost all respondents said that their voting decisions were based on how organised, disciplined, and reliable a candidate appeared—who could inspire the most trust and confidence.

They were not concerned with which party might uphold or reject a particular political ideology. Issues like who is religion-oriented, nationalist, or socialist did not influence them. The banner under which a candidate was running also mattered little. What mattered most was which candidate seemed genuinely sincere, honest, and dependable in addressing the problems of their daily lives.

Another intriguing insight emerged. Many respondents had decided that candidates representing the student wing of a party likely to come to power should not be elected as student representatives. They had observed the excesses of Chhatra League during Awami League rule. Their fear: power in the student body might translate into power in government, and in that environment, these candidates could become as monstrously powerful as Chhatra League. Preventing this, they felt, was also a form of purification.

There was a time when it was assumed that if the student wing of the ruling party gained control of the student union, they would get allocations, government favours, and face fewer obstacles in implementing development and student welfare initiatives. This expectation has never been realised. Gen Z knows this now. And in understanding it, they are also learning to chart a new path. “New-school politics” will likely mature through precisely this kind of process of discernment and purification.

In the eyes of Gen Z, the present moment is a “correction phase”, and a time when mistakes cannot be allowed. Even those Gen Zers who appear outwardly apolitical are contributing to the purification of Bangladesh’s politics. This phase of purification is unfolding through five processes, which, over time, will help shape a relatively refined path for politics.

1. Scrutiny and Experimentation:

“There is much our fathers and grandfathers have seen by following conventional paths. Let’s try a slightly different approach and see what happens.” This mindset is strong among Gen Z. While Gen X might have thought, “Should we vote for this candidate? They won’t win anyway; the vote might get wasted,” Gen Z rejects such outdated notions of a “wasted vote.” They see black as black and white as white.

2. Evaluation:
“We have observed who did what and who did not; we have done enough accounting.” Gen Z evaluates the deeds and failures of past powers far more dispassionately than biased Gen Xers.

3. Observation and Monitoring:
“We are keeping an eye on everything; nothing escapes notice; everything is remembered.” Due to their engagement with social media and information technology, a large portion of this generation monitors daily events, analyses them, and forms their own positions. They do not blindly follow party lines or dogmas.

4. Rejection:
Rejection of inherited, conventional politics is a major example. In old politics, whatever party a father supported, the whole family followed. Three respondents noted that their families have a long history in Awami League politics. Yet, consciously defying their families, they rejected League politics.

5. Correction:
“If politicians make mistakes, they will not be forgiven. Through social media, posts, art, trolling—whatever possible—they must be pushed toward the path of correction.” Almost all respondents said that their voting considerations included: choosing candidates who would not embezzle funds, pocket money, take bribes, follow leaders blindly, chant slogans in leaders’ names, coerce anyone to join rallies, manipulate guest rooms or seat allocations, engage in thuggery, or flaunt power.

Now, big businessmen and black-money holders are once again buying parliamentary seats, exercising influence through money, and taking over political spaces. Gen Z’s voting behaviour sends a clear message: even if these arrangements achieve temporary success, Gen Z will not let them endure for long. In the coming years, Bangladesh’s politics will undergo a complex process of purification. This new process will proceed in ways that invalidate traditional political expectations and calculations.

#Helal Mohiuddin is a sociology professor at Mayville State University, North Dakota, USA.

*The opinions expressed are those of the author.

*This article, originally published in Prothom Alo online edition, has been rewritten in English by Rabiul Islam