Bangladesh’s Political Ideology and the Politics for the People
Al Mamun Harun Ur Rashid :
For fifty-four years, Bangladesh has been ruled by ideas — Mujibism, Bengali nationalism, secularism, military nationalism — yet for ordinary citizens, very little has changed.
Power has rotated among elites, but the everyday struggles of the poor have remained constant. Unemployment, inequality, environmental degradation, and the widening divide between city and village persist because every political era began with ideology, not with citizens.
Parties fought over belief systems while people waited for food prices to drop, for jobs to appear, for schools to work, and for justice to mean something.
After months of upheaval, reform, and the signing of the July Charter, Bangladesh now stands at a decisive moment — to finally implement the people’s will by holding a genuinely free and fair election, denied for far too long.
The nation has lived through every political chapter imaginable: the idealism of liberation, the rigidity of military rule, the entrenchment of dynastic politics, and the suffocation of one-party dominance. Each promised renewal. Each ended in frustration.
In the modern age dominated by Artificial Intelligence, political parties must move beyond dogma and ideology. What matters is problem-solving — food on the table, jobs for the young, justice for the poor, and governance that works for all.
For the past fifteen years, however, the Awami League ruled through a single rigid ideology — one that used state institutions to build control rather than confidence. Opposition voices were silenced, democratic institutions hollowed out, and loyalty became the currency of power.
The collapse of that authoritarian structure in mid- 2024 did not come from rival politicians; it came from the people themselves — from students, workers, and ordinary citizens who had lost faith in both government and opposition.
When Nobel Laureate Muhammad Yunus rose as the head of the interim government, it felt almost poetic. Known worldwide for empowering the poor, he appeared to embody moral renewal for many — the chance to restore governance through integrity.
But fifteen months on, that optimism has thinned. The interim government now appears tired, cautious, and uncertain of its purpose. Student groups that once cheered Yunus now accuse his administration of hesitation and elitism.
The election, promised for early February 2026, now hangs in the balance. The interim authority continues to give assurances, but public confidence is eroding.
Bangladesh knows too well what happens when politics stops moving. Every “temporary” extension of unelected rule — military or caretaker — has ultimately led to manipulation. Power, once captured, seldom releases itself.
If the election is delayed beyond 2026, the interim authority may face fresh unrest. But if it happens on time, it will restore something far more valuable than a government — it will restore the rhythm of political life.
A timely election would also force new political alignments. The Awami League remains banned, yet its networks still hum beneath the surface.
The BNP could re-emerge if it proves that it has changed, but its credibility is uncertain for the unwanted activities of its many leaders and workers to grab properties as news reports focus.
Meanwhile, new forces — student movements, citizen platforms, small reformist parties — are eager to reshape the political map. They may not dominate Parliament, but their inclusion would make politics more representative, more plural.
Still, elections alone cannot save democracy. Bangladesh’s deeper crisis lies not in the absence of voting alone, but in the decay of governance. Institutions remain politicised, weak, and dependent.
In the last 15 years, people witnessed that the police obeyed power, not law. The judiciary bowed to pressure. Bureaucrats survived through allegiance, not merit.
If a new government inherits this same machinery, democracy will simply change hands, not habits. Real reform must start with rebuilding trust — through transparency, decentralisation, and genuinely independent institutions that serve citizens, not ministries.
Democracy, therefore, is not sacred by itself. It only works when it serves the people — when it embodies a people- centred philosophy grounded in justice, accountability, and inclusion.
Without those, it becomes an empty performance of voting every few years while power remains unchanged.
The young people who risked their lives in July uprising in 2024 did not march for another elite order or technocratic caretaker. They marched for dignity. They wanted to be heard, not managed.
Their struggle will mean little if politics returns to being a private game between power-brokers.
Democracy is not a gift from rulers; it is a discipline of endurance by citizens. Bangladeshis have endured much — floods, corruption, disappearances, censorship, and betrayal — yet they have never abandoned their right to choose. That persistence, not any ideology, remains the nation’s greatest strength.
But democracy alone cannot feed the hungry or heal a corrupt system. It must be fed itself — with justice, fairness, and opportunity. Otherwise, as history has shown, democracy withers into performance and populism. Democracy doesn’t grow in a vacuum; it grows in the womb of the people.
If politicians don’t feed the people well, democracy will be stillborn.
Bangladesh must now decide what story it wants to tell: another tale of broken promises, or the story of a people determined to make democracy meaningful — not as an imported model, but as a living contract between the state and its citizens.
Whoever forms the next government should remember: this country does not belong to parties or their loyalists. It belongs to its people. When different ideologies exist among various political parties in a country, and each party tries to impose its own ideology on the entire population, it leads to chaos. Having diverse ideologies is healthy, as it encourages people to think from different perspectives.
Political parties should focus on deeper problem-solving strategies and adopt a people-oriented approach to address the real issues facing the nation because in the end, it is not ideology that sustains a nation — it is the people who do.
(The Writer is the Diplomatic Correspondent of The New Nation)