How did the Sheikh Hasina-led Awami League regime evolve into a seemingly invincible, authoritarian government over its 15 and a half years of rule? How has the recent mass uprising, resistance, and revolution led to the fall of the autocratic regime? What could Bangladesh’s democratic future look like in light of the evolving political landscape?
Episode 001: What’s the future of democracy in Bangladesh 2.0?
টং আলাপ (Tong Conversations) is inspired by “Tong”, traditional roadside tea stalls that offer a relaxed atmosphere for people to express their views and listen to diverse perspectives—a vantage point that is neither an ivory tower view nor grounded in everyday struggles. This conversation series aims to create a similarly relaxed space that will bring together thought leaders to engage in informal dialogues and explore diverse points of view on issues that matter, a space to think, connect, and enjoy the conversation.
In the first episode of Tong Conversations, Dr Asif Shahan, Associate Professor at the Department of Development Studies, University of Dhaka, and Visiting Research Fellow at the BRAC Institute of Governance and Development (BIGD), sat down with Dr Naomi Hossain, Professor of Development Studies at SOAS University of London, Dr Tariq Omar Ali, Associate Professor of South Asian History at Georgetown University, and Dr Mirza M. Hassan, Senior Research Fellow and Head of the Governance and Politics Cluster at BIGD, to discuss, over tea, about the future of democracy in a post-revolution Bangladesh.
The conversation began by exploring how the ruling party gained its authoritarian resilience over the years, ultimately reaching the seemingly untouchable position it held until the July Revolution this year. The discussants identified key factors that contributed to the party’s rise in confidence and ruthlessness. These included Sheikh Hasina’s personalistic leadership—overreliance on her personal authority instead of institutional—her ability to balance foreign relationships, a system of electoral authoritarianism, a general sense of citizens’ well-being due to improved living standards (which eventually began to erode with rising inflation and economic downturns), and consequently, a reluctant acceptance of the regime by citizens and their unwillingness to challenge the powerful, resilient regime.
The discussants then tried to dissect the chain of events leading up to the July uprising—Hasina’s response to the poly-crises she was facing and her eventual fall, fueled by the public’s near-unanimous solidarity with the student movement in an unprecedented show of strength and spirit.
“Usually, you need to have some kind of trigger for the acquiescence to end. Often, it’s an outrageous act of corruption—of which there were many—but this was not what happened here,” said Dr Hossain, “What happened here was the absolute shock of seeing the army and the police shooting young people dead in the street. The absolute horror of seeing Abu Sayeed shot dead, that was the trigger.”
Dr Ali questioned why previous acts of brutality committed by the Awami regime, such as the Shapla Chattar massacre, did not necessarily trigger the same reaction from the general public. The discussants theorized whether the ideals of ‘মুক্তিযুদ্ধের চেতনা’ (spirit of liberation war), heavily propagated by the Awami League, played any role in legitimizing the regime’s violent quashing of any form of opposition in the past, and how this ideal crumbled during the 2024 student movement.
“The slogan ‘তুমি কে? আমি কে? রাজাকার, রাজাকার!’ (“Who are you? Who am I? Razakar, Razakar!) dealt a huge blow to the ‘us vs them’ narrative driven by the Awami regime,” said Dr Shahan, “We all had a fear whether we would be able to stand against the regime. But Abu Sayeed’s death, the way he died, and the image of his dying—arms wide open as if to say, ‘You can shoot me, and I will stand still’—influenced a lot of people to think, ‘We can die for this cause.’”
And it was this loss of fear that transformed the student movement into a mass uprising. During this spontaneous revolution, people joined under no banner but only in support of and in solidarity with students.
“The urban informal sector—the rickshaw-wallas, the drivers, the hawkers, the street dwellers—they stood beside the students, even facing death. I don’t think any other community offered the same degree of support that the urban poor did,” said Dr. Ali.
The movement was not just Dhaka-centric; students from public universities, colleges, and high schools in small towns across Bangladesh also participated in full force. It was the collective defiance of the people that helped ignite the movement.
In discussing what the future looks like and whether we are moving in the right direction, the discussants considered the impact that citizen power and social organizations could have in improving government accountability. To avoid the same challenges of creeping tyranny and fascism in post-revolution Bangladesh, Dr Hasan proposed that we rethink our notion of democracy and broaden our ideas beyond the typically narrow concept of electoral democracy.
“Other than representative democracy, we need to have direct democracy. We need to have periodic referendums…” said Dr Hasan, “and between the people and the representative, there should be other platforms or mechanisms of democratic and collective representation. I suggest that we have dual powers, by which I mean that there will be a societal power, with constitutional endorsement, which will create additional checks and balances from the society’s side.”
As the cups emptied, final reflections were drawn on the generational transformation currently underway in post-revolution Bangladesh. The future might see new players in the political field, with students forming their own political parties—a demand that has gained strength because of a strong faith in the student body. People trust the youth to build a better future for this nation. The last sip of tea was taken with a hopeful yet cautious outlook for what lies ahead.
