The idea of freedom is central to the concept of democracy. When we talk about fundamental democratic rights, we essentially mean basic freedoms that are guaranteed for every citizen regardless of their race, sex, religion, ethnicity, language, or any other status. A democracy ensures a form of governance that protects the right to life and liberty, freedom of expression, access to education, health, protection of the law and so on. Unfortunately, Bangladesh’s history bears witness to how successive so-called democratic governments have abused the term in astounding ways, becoming anything but democratic.
After the stunning fall of an autocratic regime camouflaged in democratic garb—a fall made possible by the sacrifices and courage of our students and the general public—we now have a precious opportunity to reclaim our rights as a people. At the same time, we are trapesing on a delicate tightrope with no safety net if we fall.
We cannot afford to miss this opportunity to realise the unfulfilled dreams of a nation that tasted freedom in 1971 after enduring nine months of bloody warfare and genocide by an occupying force. The aspirations of our freedom fighters, that included the general people, to build a country free from oppression, discrimination and poverty, remain unfulfilled. Fifty-three years later, a new generation is fighting for that freedom.
In 1991, after the fall of the Ershad government through a peoples’ uprising led again by students, we thought we were finally on the path to democracy. It seemed everyone was on the same page, including the leaders of the two major political parties. The elections were considered to be free and fair, and the rise of independent media gave promising signs of a thriving democracy. But as we know, all too soon democracy started to suffer unforeseen blows. During the BNP’s regime, the tentacles of greed and power began to creep in, ushering in a culture of corruption, nepotism and violation of constitutional rights.
These attacks on the basic principles of democracy as enshrined in our constitution, were taken to new heights during the 15-year rule of Sheikh Hasina. In fact, neither of the two major parties practiced democratic norms within their ranks—both were dominated by one-person rule and relied on dynastic succession of power.
Hasina’s way of consolidating power was to politicise every state institution and machinery to completely obliterate any kind of dissent or anyone she considered an obstacle. She used the police and other security forces, including intelligence agencies, to clamp down on opposition parties, particularly the BNP and Jamaat, through arbitrary arrests and jail sentences. Anyone she or her cronies considered a challenge to her power was harassed or persecuted through draconian laws such as the Digital Security Act (later renamed the Cyber Security Act). This included journalists, civil society members, teachers, students, cartoonists, writers and also members of minority communities.
Accusations of “hurting religious sentiments,” “anti-state activities” and being “anti-liberation” were used to crush perceived opponents or for personal revenge. While freedom of speech and the independent media became casualties of Hasina’s regime, a culture of obscene sycophancy flourished rendering any divergent opinion to be dangerous and resulting in frightening consequences. The number of enforced disappearances and extrajudicial killings soared during her rule. It was a mafia state, where the “family” included all relatives and friends who had the license to loot banks, siphon money abroad, grab land, and even put people they didn’t like in jail, with total impunity. Megaprojects worth thousands of takas in loans were launched as part of the development illusion, while food inflation soared, the poor went hungry and the middle class struggled to make ends meet.
The economy buckled under a crippled banking sector, foreign exchange reserves dwindled to precarious levels and power plants awarded to cronies became money pits, failing to meet the demand for electricity. Every sector and institution fell victim to this mafia state, where oligarchs ruled and every single decision came from only the top boss—the prime minister. Thus, in 15 years of unopposed rule, marked by two farcical elections where the opposition boycotted and ballots were stuffed the night before in one, democracy was completely eradicated and the constitution blatantly violated.
But as history has shown, every tyrant must ultimately bow down to those they have terrorised. The latest onslaught on a democracy already on life support took place between July 15 to August 5, when Hasina made the worst error of judgement by unleashing her goons, the police and other security forces on unarmed students and general people. The bloodshed that ensued—over a thousand lives lost, thousands blinded or maimed for life, a five-day internet blackout and the imposition of a curfew—led to a spontaneous uprising for freedom. The students had finally awakened the people, bringing together people from all walks of life and political affiliations to free the country from the clutches of a dictator.
It would, however, be naive to think that democracy has been freed and restored to its rightful place—to the people of Bangladesh. True, on August 5, the people reclaimed the power that had been robbed from them for decades. But we are now merely at the preparatory stage in the long journey towards a functioning democracy.
The interim government led by a visionary person of integrity, faces a daunting task ahead. The suppressed resentment, fear, anger, grief and deprivation of people whose voices had been silenced for 15 years have been unleashed, some in violent and anarchic forms. Meanwhile, remnants of the fascist regime continue to work their mischief to discredit the interim government and the student activists. Religion is being weaponised to promote ideas that are in direct conflict with democratic ideals. Mob justice continues to create an atmosphere of fear, and the moral police feel empowered enough to openly display their misogyny.
Before the interim government can create an environment in which a credible, free and fair election can take place, there is much to be done to heal, rebuild and restore. Ensuring the security and safety of all citizens and their properties must be the first priority. The hundreds of closed factories must be reopened through sincere dialogue with workers. The new political kids in town must put an end to the old habits of extortion and political supremacy.
One thing is for sure: we cannot go back to the old style of governance, one that had no accountability, no representation of people’s aspirations and did not ensure the rights of all, especially women and minority communities.
The chief adviser’s speech on September 11 indicates that the process of reform is underway. Special commissions are being formed to carry out the much-needed reforms to institutions, especially the electoral process, the Election Commission, police, judiciary and the legal system. Good governance is being introduced to the broken financial sector. But the repair process requires patience, humility and unity from all. It is the only way we can hold onto our precious freedom and not let it slip through our fingers again.
Aasha Mehreen Amin is joint editor at The Daily Star.
