Commentary: What went wrong for the National Citizen Party in Bangladesh?
Editorial Desk :
The rapid rise and equally rapid decline of the National Citizen Party (NCP) offers a cautionary tale about the limits of protest politics in Bangladesh.
What began as a movement infused with youthful demands and promises of political renewal ultimately faltered under the weight of its own unpreparedness.
The NCP has sought to present itself as a reformist, civic alternative-appealing to voters disillusioned with traditional opposition politics.
Association with Jamaat, a party burdened by historical controversy and persistent questions over its lack of commitment to pluralism, endanger to undermine that carefully built identity.
If the NCP chooses to proceed with Jamaat, clarity and transparency will be essential.
The public deserves to know whether this is a narrowly defined, issue-based cooperation or a deeper political convergence.
Without clearly stated red lines, the cost of ambiguity may outweigh any immediate advantage.
NCP emerged at a moment when public frustration with traditional parties was palpable.
It spoke the language of reform, accountability, and citizen power, resonating particularly with urban youth.
Yet resonance alone does not build a political party. NCP failed to move beyond slogans and symbolism to construct the organisational backbone required to survive Bangladesh’s unforgiving political terrain.
One of the party’s most damaging weaknesses was its leadership vacuum. Without a clear, authoritative leadership structure, NCP appeared indecisive and fragmented.
In politics, ambiguity breeds mistrust. Voters looking for an alternative were left uncertain about who was in charge, what the party truly stood for, and whether it could govern if given the chance.
Equally fatal was NCP’s absence of an electoral strategy. While street mobilisation created visibility, it did not translate into ballots.
The party lacked credible candidates, constituency networks, and a coherent manifesto.
As elections approached, NCP appeared more comfortable protesting power than preparing to exercise it.
Internal divisions further eroded its credibility. Disagreements over direction and tactics spilled into public view, reinforcing perceptions of chaos rather than cohesion.
In a country where political stability is already fragile, voters are reluctant to entrust power to a party that cannot manage its own internal affairs.
Perhaps most critically, NCP underestimated the structural realities of Bangladeshi politics.
Power here is sustained through organisation, alliances, and long-term groundwork.
By relying heavily on spontaneity and moral outrage, NCP mistook momentum for permanence.
NCP’s failure does not mean the demand for political alternatives has disappeared. Rather, it underscores a hard truth: dissent alone cannot substitute for discipline.
If NCP is to have any future, it must learn that real political change is built not only in the streets, but in structures, strategy, and sustained leadership.
Ultimately, the success of reform politics depends not only on who joins forces, but on the principles that guide those alliances.
Bangladesh does not lack political actors; it lacks sustained trust. Any decision that erodes that trust should be weighed with utmost caution.