The political atmosphere that has developed surrounding the student union elections in the country’s leading universities is at once exhilarating and, to some extent, unsettling. Generations of students have never had the opportunity to understand or participate in what a student union truly represents. For decades, the university students’ right to vote in such elections was denied.
Though during Sheikh Hasina’s rule—before she was toppled in the student–people’s uprising—a single student council election was held at Dhaka University under intense student pressure, there are many questions and controversies regarding that contest. Against this backdrop, it is only normal that the forthcoming student council elections would generate both excitement and apprehension.
A large section of youth, particularly those studying in private universities, remain excluded for now, with no indication of when they might be allowed such participation. Yet the elections in state-funded universities, especially at Dhaka University, carry particular weight. Mere recalling the names of the former VPs (vice-presidents) of the Dhaka University Central Students’ Union (DUCSU) illustrates its direct and indirect influence on national politics.
Despite some questions, even the last, widely contested election produced Nurul Haque Nur as VP, who, within just five years, has become a recognised name in national politics. He is now leading a political party, Gono Odhikar Parishad. It is not unknown how larger parties are actively courting the Gono Odhikar Parishad into their alliances.
It is therefore unsurprising that the election due on 9 September has generated intense speculation about which new leaders might emerge this time. Whatever be the outcome, the election raises pressing questions and lessons. As a dress rehearsal for the planned national election in February, it offers a test case for patterns of contestation, campaigning methods, adherence to codes of conduct, the role of mainstream and social media, voting arrangements, and the maintenance of law and order.
Nearly all student wings of the major legal democratic parties, alongside a striking number of independents and a higher proportion of women candidates than before, have been contesting this DUCSU election. Yet questions remain: what about bearing the blame by candidates who were once linked to the Chhatra League–the very organisation banned for its crimes–and have resurfaced under new or ‘real’ identities. How could they be rehabilitated without even an apology for their past complicity in wrongdoing, whether active or silent? Will such unresolved accountability not haunt the forthcoming national election as well?
The dangers of social media appeared in this DUCSU election, experts fear, will appear on a hundred times the scale in the national election.
Let’s take the case of Md Abu Hanif from Cumilla’s Titas upazila. Once a ward-level general secretary for the Awami League, he is now president of the same ward’s Bangladesh Jamaat-e-Islami, claiming he had long been a Jamaat member, merely taking shelter in the Awami League for strategic reasons.
Encouragingly, candidates this time have by and large respected the electoral code of conduct. Gone are the deafening loudspeakers, unruly processions, wall graffiti, and forests of posters, banners, and festoons. The DUCSU election is thus setting a positive precedent. Will the politicians agree to emulate such laudable practices in the national election?
It is undeniable, of course, that there is no longer the need to spend money and labour unnecessarily on traditional forms of electioneering with the opportunity of campaigning freely in mainstream media and on social media platforms. The role of mainstream media in this regard is praiseworthy, and their initiatives have easily drawn attention. The open debates organised by television channels, the presence of candidates in talk shows at night, and the interviews published in newspapers will, it may safely be said, assist students in making informed voting decisions.
Those responsible for editing these programmes and interviews have maintained neutrality to a reasonable degree, giving sufficient opportunity for all candidates, party-affiliated or independent, to express themselves. Though there have been exceptions, these have been negligible. If such a model could be maintained in the national election, it would greatly enrich fair competition.
The picture in the social media platforms is, however, different. A decade ago in India, the rise of the ultra-Hindutva party BJP (Bharatiya Janata Party) and its leader Narendra Modi became a case study in curricula on social media transformation. Even before becoming Prime Minister, he had the highest number of followers in the world on Twitter. Later, journalist Swati Chaturvedi’s investigative book, I Am a Troll: Inside the Secret World of the BJP’s Digital Army, revealed how the party had built a vast army of bots.
Through an institutional system, the party successfully ran hundreds of thousands of fake accounts to construct Modi’s image. There is no doubt that the same model is being followed in our country. One bot army is called Albotor and the other Lalbotor, though the latter is by no means comparable in number.
One can understand both the intensity of online attacks and the depth of the mental scars it inflicts from the remark of Abdul Kader, VP candidate from the anti-discrimination panel, who endured repeated repression during the quota reform movement. He said, “I do not need to win DUCSU, I just want to survive”. Another independent VP candidate, Umama Fatema, former spokesperson of the anti-discrimination student movement, has also spoken of the misogynistic and indecent online attacks she has suffered.
The threat of gang rape directed at a candidate of a leftist organisation, as punishment for bringing a case to court, has revealed how elections can pose an additional danger for women. We recall how, in the 2018 election, a mother in Subarnachar, Noakhali, was gang-raped for voting for the paddy-sheaf symbol. Therefore, the DUCSU election has reminded us that the challenge of confronting this additional risk to women cannot be ignored in the coming national election.
The dangers of social media appeared in this DUCSU election, experts fear, will appear on a hundred times the scale in the national election. The question is: did the Dhaka University authorities request the social media platforms to act against such fake accounts or bot armies that could influence the election? Did they at least inform the government and its digital regulatory body, the BTRC (Bangladesh Telecommunication Regulatory Commission), of this risk and seek their assistance?
It would be remiss not to mention one exceptional feature of this DUCSU election, namely the unique gesture of respect shown to a fellow comrade-in-struggle: no organisation fielded a candidate against Sanjida Ahmed Tonni, an independent candidate for Secretary of Research and Publications. On 15 July last year she was assaulted by the Chhatra League on her own campus during the demonstrations of the anti-discrimination student movement.
Whatever be the result of the election, she deserves to be welcomed. Yet it must also be said that Umama Fatema, former spokesperson of the anti-discrimination student movement, deserved the same respect. Her moral stand against the mass killing in Palestine also merited such honour. Her rejection of the US award for International Women of Courage because of the US’ complicity in Israel’s mass killing is no small matter. Her sacrifice remains an instructive example for all.
* Kamal Ahmed is a journalist.
* The views expressed are his own.
