Bangladesh is once again heading toward a major election. Politics is no longer limited to rallies, leaflets, banners, and television. A great deal of discussion now takes place online. In this space, social media influencers play a significant role. Some speak on YouTube, some go live on Facebook, and others create short videos. Although they are not journalists, many people trust what they say. So their influence during elections is real.
Many influencers provide accurate information, correct misinformation, and raise awareness among young people. The problem begins when, instead of informing people, they start dividing society into “us and them,” “good and bad,” and “patriots and traitors.” At that point, politics shifts away from reason and toward fear, suspicion, and hatred.
During elections, the most powerful strategy for creating division is the “us versus them” frame. A section of influencers (not all) speak as if the country’s problems have only one enemy, and as if their own position is the only true form of patriotism. This causes two kinds of harm. On one hand, dissent is portrayed as the enemy; on the other, ordinary voters become afraid, thinking, “If I ask questions, will I be seen as belonging to the wrong side?”
Research has also explained how this kind of influence works. In 2017, two leading scholars on disinformation, Claire Wardle and Hossein Derakhshan, introduced the concept of “information disorder,” showing how false information, deliberate lies, and distorted facts together pollute the online environment. During elections, instead of telling outright lies, small parts of the truth are often exaggerated or half-truths are used to fuel anger. As a result, division spreads quickly because people side with emotion without checking the facts.
Similarly, RAND Corporation researchers Jennifer Kavanagh and Michael D. Rich, in their concept of “Truth Decay,” argue that when the importance of verifiable facts declines in public debate and opinions, emotions, and biases increase, society loses shared truths that everyone can agree on. This weakens the foundations of democratic discussion.
Experiences from other countries
After the 2016 US election, the Cambridge Analytica–Facebook data scandal showed that voter psychology can be influenced through data, algorithms, and targeted messaging (micro-targeting). A report by Carole Cadwalladr and Emma Graham-Harrison in The Guardian on 17 March 2018 revealed that data from 50 million Facebook profiles had been harvested. Here, “influencers” were not just YouTubers; online personalities, pages, and groups together created a kind of “influence industry” that increased polarisation in society—echoing the idea of “Truth Decay.”
India’s election is one of the largest democratic exercises in the world. A Reuters report on 25 April 2024, titled “India sieves online deluge to stamp out disinformation in world’s biggest election,” shows how India is trying to stop online lies and misinformation, because online influence can turn into real-world violence or major social unrest. In this context, influencers, in the name of explaining “ground realities,” can sometimes popularise the language of division—affecting not only voting but also social relations after the election.
Taiwan’s experience in the 2024 election is comparatively encouraging. An AP report of 29 January 2024, “How Taiwan Beat Back Disinformation and Preserved the Integrity of Its Election” by David Klepper and Huizhong Wu, shows that although false information spread during the campaign, the damage was reduced through rapid fact-checking, information from the Election Commission, and explanations by responsible influencers. In other words, not all influencers are a problem; some can also play a role in stopping misinformation.
In Brazil’s 2018 election, encrypted messaging apps—especially WhatsApp—played a huge role. Researcher F. Brito Cruz’s 2019 study, “Secrets and Lies: WhatsApp and Social Media in Brazil’s 2018 Presidential Election,” analyzes this trend and shows how, through encryption, groups, and forwarding, political content spread rapidly beyond control. In many cases, a “trusted” individual or group admin becomes the influencer, because people share messages without verification. As a result, division grows quietly but deeply.
Bangladesh context
In Bangladesh, influencer-driven division during elections can be especially risky for several reasons. First, political discourse here often shifts away from “policies and programmes” toward “individuals and identities.” When influencers make this identity politics go viral in simple language, social fractures grow quickly. People are unwilling to listen to arguments because they have already chosen a “side.”
Second, rumours or half-truths spread quickly, because many people are not used to checking sources. “I saw a video,” “someone said it”—that alone becomes proof.
Third, some influencers unknowingly imitate “foreign narratives.” For example, in the United States, language like “Stop the Steal” about election fraud became popular; later, similar language was copy-pasted into other countries. This copy-paste politics is dangerous for Bangladesh, because it starts labeling elections as illegitimate in advance, and regardless of the outcome, public trust is damaged.
Fourth, online tension often turns into offline consequences, especially when influencers use suggestive language like “punish,” “boycott,” or “teach them a lesson.” This creates insecurity for individuals and groups.
Fifth, this is directly linked to human security. The UNDP’s Human Development Report 1994 introduced the concept of human security, showing that security is not just about the state but about people’s everyday safety. Divisive campaigning creates fear and anxiety in people’s minds, breaks family and social relationships, and even exposes individuals to online harassment or threats. So the divisive role of influencers is not just about debate—it is about people’s real security.
When we discuss the influence of social media influencers on Bangladesh’s elections, an important but often overlooked group comes into focus: expatriate Bangladeshis. A large part of the audience for online political content is not only inside the country but also Bangladeshis living abroad. They regularly watch YouTube discussions, Facebook Live sessions, and political analysis and remain deeply engaged with developments at home. As a result, the language and perspectives of social influencers directly affect their thinking as well.
This is not only political but also economic. Bangladesh has long depended on remittances. Expatriate income is a major source of foreign currency and is directly linked to the livelihoods of millions of families. So expatriate Bangladeshis are not just part of election debates; they are also a key part of the country’s economic stability. The real risk arises when the divisive narratives of social influencers spread tension within expatriate communities too. The long-term impact of this division may affect remittance flows, which would be a major risk for Bangladesh’s economy.
If economic stability weakens, it also affects national security. At the same time, it is a question of human security, because the social security, working conditions, and personal safety of migrant workers can be put at risk by political tension.
In conclusion, it is almost certain that social influencers will play a major role in Bangladesh’s upcoming election. The question is whether that role will further fragment society or help people make informed, fact-based decisions.
The US experience with data targeting, India’s efforts to curb online falsehoods, Brazil’s WhatsApp-driven influence, and Taiwan’s combined response through fact-checking, influencers, and civil society all point to one thing: the power of influencers is real. And if that power is left unchecked, national security, human security, and personal security will all be at risk.
#Mohammad Jalal Uddin Sikder is a tteacher and researcher, Department of Political Science and Sociology, North South University.
*The views expressed are the author’s own.
#This article, originally published in Prothom Alo print and online editions, has been rewritten in English by Rabiul Islam