On election day in Bangladesh, the ballot is cast in an atmosphere closer to lockdown than celebration.
Roads empty, buses vanish, and everyday mobility is suspended. This recurring paralysis raises an uncomfortable question: why must democracy come at the cost of movement?
Officially, transport restrictions are imposed to ensure a peaceful polling environment.
The Bangladesh Election Commission and law-enforcement agencies argue that limiting vehicle movement helps prevent violence, voter intimidation, and organised disruption.
Given Bangladesh’s history of election-time clashes, arson, and road blockades, this logic is not without precedent.
Yet comparison with other countries exposes a deeper problem. In the United Kingdom, India, France, and the United States, public transport runs as usual on election day.
Even in large, diverse, and politically polarised societies, voting is treated as a routine civic act rather than a security emergency.
Extra policing protects polling stations; mobility is preserved to encourage participation.
Bangladesh stands apart because elections are not universally trusted.
Transport shutdowns are as much about fear as they are about safety—fear of confrontation, fear of sabotage, fear of disputed outcomes. Beyond official bans, drivers and owners voluntarily withdraw vehicles, wary of vandalism and violence.
The result is a self-reinforcing shutdown that penalises ordinary citizens, particularly workers, patients, and the poor.
This has consequences. Restricted transport discourages turnout, especially among the elderly and those living far from polling centres.
It also normalises the idea that elections are inherently dangerous events, reinforcing public cynicism rather than democratic confidence.
Democracy should expand freedoms, not temporarily suspend them. If every election requires immobilising the country, the problem lies not in transport but in trust.
Restoring credible competition, impartial administration, and political restraint would do more to secure polling day than empty roads ever could.
Until Bangladesh can conduct elections without fear, election day will continue to resemble a curfew—an indictment not of the people, but of the system meant to represent them.
