The first national election after the Liberation War was held 14–15 months later. After the mass uprising of 1990, elections were held within an even shorter period. In both cases, the electoral atmosphere was shaped by the memories and convictions of the struggle against war and military rule.
This time, the election is being held nearly 18 months after the mass uprising. In terms of time, the gap is not much greater, but in election-related discussions and debates, the presence and influence of the blood-soaked aspirations of “36 July” are noticeably weaker. However, the inclusion of a chapter on a referendum in the election process is an exception.
No voice for the grassroots in nomination allocation
The nomination paper submission phase—seen as a step toward a festive election—has already passed. For this alone, the people of Bangladesh could earn high marks. Over the past few months, considerable effort has gone into countering masked, invisible forces that sought to derail the country from the electoral roadmap.
New incidents were repeatedly orchestrated to delay the election. Evidence recovered from the explosion site in Keraniganj, on the outskirts of Dhaka, on 26 December suggests what other grave obstacles could have emerged in the path of the polls.
In the end, however, candidates were able to present themselves before the public. Yet, as before, the culture of nominations followed the old pattern: one or two central leaders of each party, like corporate bosses, decided who was “qualified” to become an MP.
For a long time, there has been a demand that the opinions of grassroots units and activists be institutionally recognised as decisive in nominating party candidates. The nomination process was meant to be structured from the bottom up—a principle also reflected in electoral regulations. But to what extent were those rules followed? Or did Bangladesh’s electoral culture remain, in effect, an indirect presidential system?
Not only in nominations, but also in the formation, dissolution, and reconfiguration of alliances, decisions were taken by a handful of party leaders as if they were personal property. In the case of the NCP, which had promised a “new arrangement,” civil society witnessed even some of its central leaders saying they were unaware that the party had left the “Democratic Reform Alliance” to join a different alliance led by Jamaat-e-Islami. In other words, decision-making within the party was not participatory even at the central level—let alone at the grassroots.
In this regard, the new party failed to move beyond the traditional practices of the BNP and the Awami League. Those who had seen the hope of a new “republic” in its politics may have been disappointed by the party’s shifting alliance strategies. Caught in the constant movement from one alliance to another, the party also found itself facing internal fractures.
In the campaign, the NCP will also have to speak in favour of a theocratic state project
Many commentators say that joining forces with Jamaat was an inevitable outcome for the NCP. From the very beginning, a significant portion of the NCP’s organisers showed a clear ideological leaning toward the right. At the same time, the government’s inaction and failures on key national issues were indirectly being associated with them as well.
Over the past 17 months, the party has failed to exert pressure on the government to advance the politics of reform. In countries like Sri Lanka and Nepal, leaders of mass uprisings have continued to emerge as influential forces in national politics. In the case of the NCP, however, the opposite has happened.
As the election drew closer, the party became increasingly directionless. As a result, advisers and supporters across different circles ultimately wanted the NCP to remain at least relevant in post-election opposition politics.
In this harsh reality, joining the Jamaat-led alliance appeared to be the “relatively better” option for the new party. However, the clear moral beneficiary of this move will be Jamaat, and the long-term internal discord it is likely to cause within the NCP will continue to erode the strength, pride, and momentum of “Red July.”
Unfortunately, the NCP’s alignment with Jamaat has caused July-centric policy issues to disappear from the election campaign at an accelerated pace. From now on, electioneering is likely to be dominated by old BNP-versus-Jamaat feuds, personal rivalries, image-building, and contradictions.
As a condition of the alliance, beyond its quota of 30 seats, NCP activists and supporters will have to campaign throughout the election season in favor of a theocratic state project in the remaining 270 seats of the alliance.
The question is whether Maulana Maududi’s vision of the state can truly align with the NCP’s long-standing goal of a centrist, inclusive, and democratic Bangladesh.
Women and Ethnic and Religious Minorities Lag Behind in Nominations
Even before the election campaign began, prominent female organisers of the NCP started leaving the party. Leading organisers from the workers’ and farmers’ fronts have also resigned.
It appears that the central leadership of the July movement is becoming disconnected from its women’s, farmers’, and workers’ wings. This is not only an organisational loss for an emerging party; these developments also carry a broader national cost.
Many central male organisers of the NCP had long taken negative positions on women’s rights issues. At least two NCP organisers were on the stage at a rally against the Women’s Commission held at Suhrawardy Udyan. Against this backdrop, the continued departure of female organisers from the NCP represents a significant national loss.
Thousands of adolescent girls and young women participated in the uprising, yet there is now hardly anyone in leadership positions within mainstream politics to articulate their rights and aspirations.
Even Rumeen Farhana, one of the most vocal opposition figures during the previous regime, was denied a nomination. In just 17 months of the so-called “new political arrangement,” we have witnessed what is almost a counter-uprising against women’s issues and against a new generation of female organisers.
Women and ethnic and religious minorities lagging in nominations
Just as women’s representation in nominations is low, the presence of ethnic and religious minorities in the electoral politics of major parties is also minimal. The 1971 Liberation War had called for cultural pluralism, defeating identity- and division-based politics, but numerous incidents over the past 17 months have already dulled that call, leaving minorities feeling insecure.
It now appears that ethnic and religious minorities will face historically low representation in party nominations. Even by sheer numbers, at least thirty representatives from such communities would have been fair in the National Parliament, yet the nomination patterns point in the opposite direction.
In the past, many in Bangladesh pointed out the underrepresentation of minorities in India’s Lok Sabha. Soon, Bangladesh’s own record on this issue is likely to be equally embarrassing.
Relying on past controversies instead of principled politics
Instead of forward-looking, principle-based political debate, the election has been dominated by past controversies. Another concern is the absence of a strong pro-democracy opposition party. If, as the public currently anticipates, the results of 12 February follow these expectations, the country’s politics is likely to remain more centered on the streets than in Parliament, focusing on right-wing cultural debates rather than pressing political and economic issues.
When there is a strong opposition in Parliament, public attention is drawn there, and the cabinet faces pressure for transparency and accountability. Without that, the post-uprising trend of politics in Bangladesh being dominated by cultural controversies is likely to continue.
For several months, there has been widespread use of a highly effective strategy to corner rights-based politics through controversies over songs, shrines, sports, and similar cultural issues. As a result, the shape of the current election campaign and political calculations is gradually diminishing the prospects of addressing democratic reforms in national life, as well as urgent issues related to improving the lives of women, minorities, workers, and farmers. Yet for a long time, there had been hope that post-uprising elections and the society that follows would prioritise the aspirations of July.
The NCP, Ganatantra Mancha, and leftist parties could have united under the spirit of July to pursue this agenda. But that did not happen. Within less than two years, right-wing politics, rather than reform-oriented issues, has taken the driver’s seat in society. The NCP’s latest decisions have only reinforced this trend. Regardless of which party wins the election, it remains doubtful how much social unity, which has been threatened by mobs and arson over the past 17 months, can be rebuilt.
Civil society in the country has also failed to take an active stance against the slow erosion of the spirit of July. During the previous regime, they could not take a firm position against the misuse of the Liberation War’s legacy.
How is a political shift possible?
Like a section of the liberal society in earlier times, another part of the country’s civic leadership over the past 17 months has adopted a blind policy of direct or indirect support for government actions, leaving the public without any guidance or guardianship. Although some third-stream political commentators remain inspired by the spirit of the July uprising, they have been unable to find ways to implement it or exert pressure on the government and political parties toward that goal.
Thus, the politics of state reform from 17 months ago has now fallen behind. It is not just that progress has stalled; nearly all cultural institutions, repeatedly attacked and disrupted over time, have left Bangladesh in a weakened position to defend itself.
In mob violence across the country over the past year, 197 people have been killed, and the total destruction of homes is incalculable. Even the fact that offices of the country’s major newspapers were burned without hindrance sends a long-term warning: in Bangladesh, speaking or writing against any powerful group carries maximum risk.
For the past decade and a half, Bangladesh has functioned under a form of structural state fascism. In the attempt to move beyond it, leadership weaknesses and failures are now pushing the country gradually toward social fascism.
While elections are extremely urgent, it is difficult to say how much education, culture, and the media will be spared in the next chapter of social fascism. Recent months have made it clear that “mobs” are not merely a law-and-order problem; they are part of a political project nurtured with support from various domestic and international actors. Elections alone may not be enough to protect Bangladesh from this threat.
Overall, even in the most optimistic scenario, there now appear to be only two paths as alternatives to the spirit of July: a return to the old-style rule dictated by the will or whims of a single person with unlimited power, or the adoption of a theocratic governance structure. Both options are completely contrary to the aspirations of 1971. Yet, after 17 months, we again face these two alternatives. At the national level, there is no immediate way out.
The NCP’s alignment with Jamaat has further weakened even this limited prospect. Some, however, argue that the massive turnout at Khaleda Zia’s funeral reflects society’s preference for a centrist, democratic Bangladesh. That funeral also contains some signs for the future of the country.
If this is true, we may see some indications of it in the next election. In that case, to advance this public preference, it will be necessary for local organisations working on democracy, human rights, farmer-worker-women’s rights, economic justice, and environmental protection to form new alliances. At this moment, is there any other way to protect the achievements and potential of the July movement?
#Altaf Parvez is a researcher on history
*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.