Abu Jakir :
The political realignment in Bangladesh since the July-August 2024 uprising has produced many surprises, but none more dramatic than the collapse of the once-solid BNP-Jamaat partnership.
For decades, these two parties operated as inseparable allies under the four-party alliance, united against the Awami League and often referred to collectively as the “BNP-Jamaat nexus.”
Today, that unity has evaporated. As the 2026 election draws closer, the relationship has transformed into open hostility, daily accusations, and an intensifying contest over who defines the new political order.
The July revolution played a pivotal role in this rupture. When the Hasina administration fell and the political landscape was reset, BNP and Jamaat lost the common adversary that once held them together. Their interests, which had previously converged under a shared objective of resisting state repression, now diverged sharply in a post-revolution environment.
Instead of fighting a common battle, they began competing for leadership, legitimacy, and ownership of the revolution’s outcome. What started as a disagreement over one issue-the timing and necessity of a referendum on the July National Charter-quickly spiralled into a broader ideological and strategic clash.
BNP leaders argue that Jamaat’s push for a referendum is an attempt to delay the election and reshape the political system in ways that might benefit smaller Islamist parties at the expense of BNP’s electoral strength. BNP fears that holding a referendum first could disrupt the political transition, prolong uncertainty, or give Jamaat greater leverage in defining the political rules for the next era.
Jamaat, however, insists that the revolution must receive legal recognition before the country can hold a credible election. To them, the referendum is not a delaying tactic but a moral and political imperative. Without it, they argue, the entire foundation of the post-revolution state will remain incomplete and contested.
As this divide widened, the tone of the political exchanges hardened. BNP’s Moyazzem Hossain Alal called for banning Jamaat entirely, invoking its “controversial role” during the Liberation War. Mirza Fakhrul Islam Alamgir has taken an even sharper line, accusing Jam aat of misinterpreting Islam and warning that the party “will have no existence” if elections are held.
Speaking in Thakurgaon, he dismissed Jamaat’s theological claims, mockingly asserting that Jamaat thinks buying a party ticket guarantees paradise. He further ridiculed their demand for a proportional representation system, suggesting that the real reason is fear-fear of facing the people in an open vote.
Jamaat, in turn, has entered a phase of fierce counterattack. Its Ameer, Dr. Shafiqur Rahman, has declared repeatedly that no election can take place until the July revolution is formally recognised and until the National Charter is put to a public referendum. At a massive rally in Dhaka’s Paltan intersection, surrounded by leaders from seven allied Islamist parties, he warned that those who reject the Charter’s legality “will have no place in the 2026 election.”
Jamaat’s Assistant Secretary General Hamidur Rahman Azad argues that the referendum is constitutionally justified, accusing BNP of siding with “fascism” by opposing it. At the same rally, Khelafat Majlish Ameer Maulana Mamunul Haque escalated the rhetoric further, claiming BNP is attempting to “restore fascism” and warning that those who try to reverse the revolution will be met with resistance “even at the cost of blood.”
The hostility has reached a point where even minor remarks ignite full political confrontations. When Jamaat chief Shafiqur Rahman recently suggested reducing working hours for women government employees from eight to five if his party came to power, BNP spokesperson Salauddin Ahmed quickly shot back, mocking the proposal and questioning Jamaat’s authority to dictate working hours. A comment that could have once been brushed aside inside an alliance instead turned into a public clash, reflecting how fragile and combustible the relationship has become.
Behind the rhetoric lies a deeper political truth: BNP and Jamaat now envision different futures for Bangladesh. BNP wants a swift national election under the existing structure, hoping to claim the mantle of mainstream leadership in the post-AL era. Jamaat wants ideological recognition, structural reforms, and a political order built explicitly on the principles of the July Charter. The two parties, once drawn together by electoral convenience, now stand on opposite sides of the most defining political questions of the moment.
The breakup of the BNP-Jamaat alliance is reshaping the opposition landscape in profound ways. BNP is distancing itself from Islamist politics in an attempt to broaden its mainstream appeal, while Jamaat is fighting to reassert its relevance after years of political marginalisation. With both parties trying to dominate the post-revolution political space, neither is willing to concede ground to the other. The result is a rivalry that deepens by the day, driven by ambition, ideology, and the desire to define the emerging political order.
As the 2026 election approaches, this feud threatens to split the opposition camp and rewrite Bangladesh’s political dynamics. The question is no longer whether BNP and Jamaat can revive their old alliance-they clearly cannot-but how their rivalry will shape the transition from the revolutionary moment to the next electoral contest. What was once a partnership of necessity has become a contest of survival, legitimacy, and political destiny.
