Assessing the politics of a country facing unending turbulence is always a daunting challenge. In the case of India’s neighbour, Bangladesh, any understanding of the troubles that have persisted since July 2024 is further complicated by the absence of authentic information. Events in that country have become hostage to half-truths, conspiracy theories, village gossip, and clever propaganda disseminated through YouTube and social media.
As of now, there is no authentic version of what Narendra Modi’s national security adviser, Ajit Doval, communicated to his Bangladeshi counterpart, Khalilur ‘Roger’ Rahman, last week. The phone call by Rahman to Doval assumed additional significance because Chief Adviser Muhammad Yunus is understood to have joined the conversation that apparently centred on the strains on India-Bangladesh relations and the elections scheduled for February 12 next year. If one media version is to be believed, India is understood to have communicated to Yunus that to acquire legitimacy, the elections must be free, fair and, most important, inclusive. The innocuous term, ‘inclusive’, is shorthand for the right of the Awami League to contest.
If this was indeed Doval’s advice, it is unlikely that Yunus will oblige. Apart from the fact that the ban on the Awami League was carefully plotted by the chief adviser whose spat with the ousted Sheikh Hasina resembles a blood feud, Yunus is hamstrung by the veto exercised by his Praetorian Guard. The July revolutionaries, who have now formed the National Citizen Party, disparagingly known as the King’s Party, have based their entire politics on slaying the demons of ‘fascism’ as represented by the Awami League. To them, the entire legacy of the 1971 liberation movement and Indian ‘hegemonism’ are inseparable. If Yunus was to even consider opening the doors of democracy to the Awami League, the July insurrectionists would probably eat him alive. The recipe for the roasting of Bangladesh’s only Nobel Prize-winning politician would be gleefully provided by the leadership of the Jamaat-e-Islami that directed the anti-Hasina movement from a distance.
In the aftermath of the shooting of one Sharif Osman Hadi on December 12, anti-India and anti-Hasina sentiments have been whipped up to hysterical levels. It is being claimed that the assassins were hired guns of the Awami League who fled from the scene, crossed the border into Meghalaya, and are now being wined, dined and pampered by India’s notorious intelligence agencies. Regardless of the veracity of these claims, the death of Hadi on December 18 became the occasion for the students to press for the formation of a Revolutionary Islamic government. The slogan was a bit too puerile to warrant serious attention but it was sufficiently evocative to trigger another round of mob violence. This time the targets were India’s visa centres and diplomatic residences, cultural centres that promoted literature and music that straddled both Bangladesh and West Bengal, and media groups that had been singled out for attack by hysterical online revolutionaries based in France and the United States of America. The collateral damage included a poor Hindu factory worker whose horrible lynching was treated as an Islamic triumph. Although the Jamaat craftily stayed in the background during the violence, its presence was discernible in the ongoing Shahbag demonstrations organised by the remnants of Hadi’s Inquilab Moncho.
Certainly, the way Hadi, a lesser-known activist who made anti-India fulminations a cottage industry, was deified and turned into a martyr worthy of a grave adjoining the national poet, Kazi Nazrul Islam, suggests a large measure of pre-meditation. The conspiracy theorists would have us believe that the explosion of anger was aimed at somehow scuttling the triumphant homecoming of the Bangladesh Nationalist Party leader, Tarique Rahman, after 17 years of exile. In the event, this dimension of the conspiracy was foiled by the huge turnout of BNP supporters who greeted Rahman’s cavalcade. However, when it comes to setting the terms of a radical Islamic agenda that the son of Begum Khaleda Zia — she died yesterday — must factor into his ‘plan’ for Bangladesh’s future, the post-Hadi upheaval appears to have left a mark.
The immediate question that confronts Bangladesh in 2026 is the uncertainty over the February elections. As things stand at present, only the BNP is heavily invested in the process, believing — with a lot of justification — that it stands to secure a thumping majority. The victory is certain to be emphatic in the absence of any competition from the Awami League which, arguably, remains the biggest political force in Bangladesh. If Rahman accommodates the numerous Islamic parties and the rag-tag student revolutionaries in a grand alliance, the election may still go ahead. Awami League supporters do not, as of now, have the necessary self-confidence to disrupt the election. Hasina is banking on diplomacy to prevent any future government from acquiring legitimacy.
A big question mark centres on how Yunus will manage an election that, if successfully held, could lead to the end of his innings and his possible return to retired life in France. Due to his ability to be all things to all people and his manipulative skills, Yunus faces a trust deficit. The suspicion that he nurtures violence for political gains is widespread. He appears to have encouraged his student followers to issue menacing threats against India. Simultaneously, he has kept open a discreet back channel with India, possibly preying on New Delhi’s doubts over Rahman and its fears of an Islamist takeover. Whether the duplicity is driven by a need to placate India’s concerns over the rising Pakistani and US influence is worth considering. The Modi government, however, is unlikely to be easily placated. New Delhi seems disgusted by the multiple games Yunus is playing for his own personal survival.
The second uncertainty is over the role the enigmatic army chief, General Waker-Uz-Zaman, could play in the coming months. Ever since he facilitated Hasina’s downfall by ordering his troops to stand aloof on August 5, 2024, Waker has kept the world guessing over his motives. At one time, he seemed to be on the cusp of staging a coup against Yunus but stepped back at the last minute. Although the army’s apparent neutrality is explained by its dependence on United Nations peacekeeping contracts, the revolutionary adventurism of Islamists could force an intervention, as could anti-India sabre-rattling. There could come a time, especially if Rahman is unable to display signs of political maturity, that consensus in Bangladesh drifts towards welcoming military rule as a last resort. That point of no return hasn’t arrived yet.