If the former Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina’s comical and propaganda-heavy speech on social media, devoid of remorse, guilt, or any remote admission of failure, along with the parallel destruction of Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman’s residence in response to her incendiary remarks, reveals anything, it is this: Bangladesh is still trapped in the chokehold of the former autocrat’s divide-and-rule playbook.
At the same time, a bombshell UN report validates what Bangladeshis already knew: The Hasina regime likely committed crimes against humanity in its quest to hold onto power at any cost. Surely, Hasina is the Awami League’s (AL) biggest liability.
Hasina has stained Mujib’s legacy more than his worst critics
For many who stood on the frontlines of the uprising, who watched the ousted regime butcher over 1,000 of their peers in cold blood, and who grew up under the shadow of authoritarianism, Mujib is not a revered figure. He is a symbol of fear.
What terrifies them most is the prospect of the AL’s return, not as a political party, but as a mafia-like kleptocratic network lurking beneath the surface. For them, that return means one of four things: The gallows, extrajudicial killings, enforced disappearances, or, if they are fortunate, imprisonment, all normalized incrementally since 2009 against those seen as threats to AL.
Telling these people to respect the pre-1971 Mujib, the principal architect of an AL-led political struggle for emancipation and the figure around whom East Pakistanis coalesced in the pursuit of independence, while condemning the post-1972 Mujib, who became an autocrat, is pointless.
Asking them to constrain their rage by differentiating Hasina from Mujib so soon after the uprising is perhaps misplaced and irrational.
At present, this kind of historical nuance exists only in intellectual circles, not in the hearts of a generation that blames Hasina and the cult-like God complex she has built around her father for the crises that define their lives.
Their rage is not theoretical. That rage sidelines the brutality with which Mujib and most of his family were assassinated. That rage is largely fueled by the suppression of civil liberties for 15 consecutive years, the current bleak reality of a job market their education never prepared them for, and a cutthroat political culture where brute force and performative masculinity are the only ways to gain and hold onto power.
Some seem to want to continue functioning in the spirit of the last element, or, de facto, are continuing to do so because they know no better, as a vehicle to challenge AL’s continued provocative and conspiratorial rhetoric.
The mob, as Bangladesh calls them, is not an outlier. They are products of the very system that demands success through any means necessary, legal or not, democratic or otherwise. Now, that system is being exposed and questioned across the board, but certainly not being torn apart.
This is chaos. It is somewhat necessary. It is political anarchy, raw and unfiltered, forcing Bangladesh to confront the rot it has ignored for too long
This is chaos. It is somewhat necessary. It is political anarchy, raw and unfiltered, forcing Bangladesh to confront the rot it has ignored for too long. The lid has blown off the pressure cooker, and what the country is observing is the messy, inevitable outcome of what is termed the problem identification phase in the study of public policy making.
A reckoning has just begun, and it will not end anytime soon, certainly not until the state apparatus completes some form of judicial process to punish those responsible for the plethora of offenses committed by the previous regime, and definitely not before blame is formally assigned to Hasina and her allies.
The question is what process should be followed to work toward justice. When it comes to AL, there are broadly three distinct groups. The first is a minority, including Hasina and her closest circle of cronies, both business oligarchs and politicians, entrenched in the cult of loyalty surrounding the Sheikh family. They are ideologically rigid, committed to defending the dynasty at any cost, and directly implicated in the regime’s most egregious abuses of power. Their allegiance positions them as designers and enforcers of the authoritarian state machinery.
The second group consists of opportunistic in-betweeners, mid-to-low-ranking activists who lack robust ideological commitments. Their loyalty is fluid, driven by political expediency rather than philosophical conviction. These individuals have either defected or are poised to defect to other political entities like the BNP or Jamaat when advantageous. They represent a transient political group, motivated by survival, financial interests, and personal gain rather than partisan beliefs.
The third, and arguably the largest, group includes the broader base of beneficiaries. This cohort is a mosaic of individuals who supported AL for pragmatic reasons, often as a means to improve their socio-economic standing in the absence of viable alternatives. It also consists of those who genuinely believe in AL's stated progressive and secular values, as well as individuals with deep-rooted, intergenerational familial support for the political party, possibly based on loyalty to the image of Mujib the liberator more than Hasina the dictator. Support for AL cannot be eliminated with the stroke of a pen.
The first group must face the full force of the criminal justice system, a process already set in motion following August 5. This legal route is a fundamental step in holding accountable those whose actions meet the threshold for violations of both Bangladesh’s laws and international human rights standards.
The second and third groups present a more complex challenge. While some may be prosecuted, many operated within the grey zones of general complicity, where traditional judicial measures will fall short.
The question is whether the focus should be on bringing to justice those who took the lead in enabling the regime’s abuses or those who were merely swept along, notwithstanding the fact that their actions may have been illegal and immoral.
Importantly, merely supporting or voting for a political party is not a crime under the law. Democracy hinges on changing minds through constructive dialogue and truth, not force.
National healing requires method, not mayhem
Here, a truth and reconciliation model can be seen as salient. A Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) can function as an operational instrument designed to first uncover, second dismantle, and third reform the systemic foundations that facilitated three forms of state-sponsored crimes: Financial abuse, electoral misconduct, and human rights violations.
Its scope can extend beyond the mere recording of historical events to defining a structured pathway toward restorative justice: Intentional, voluntary engagement among victims, perpetrators, and affected communities under the umbrella of a state-led platform for acknowledgment and redress.
All this may sound far-fetched or utopian, but this model has successful test cases.
The TRC can complement, not substitute, judicial proceedings. It can be framed as a channel to address the underlying gaps within the legal framework that hinder complete accountability for regime-linked offenses. Given the judiciary's existing caseload and backlogs, prosecuting every individual complicit in state-led criminalities is unfeasible and will overwhelm a fragile criminal justice system.
A targeted methodology will be much more effective, focusing legal proceedings on high-level perpetrators while leveraging the TRC to manage lesser levels of complicity. This may, in turn, reduce the ongoing scenario in which many linked to the previous regime are being blanketly accused and arrested for a single crime without thorough investigation, continuing a pattern that was kick-started, standardized, and institutionalized under Hasina’s watch.
The South African TRC, established post-apartheid in 1995, offers a precedent. It operated through three specialized committees: The Human Rights Violations Committee, which documented abuses and collected testimonies, the Amnesty Committee, which evaluated applications based on full disclosure of politically motivated crimes, and the Reparations and Rehabilitation Committee, which provided support to victims, including financial compensation and psychosocial services. Bangladesh can leverage this template as a starting point.
Instead of waiting for contrition, the interim government should proactively initiate talks on a TRC through the Chief Adviser-led National Consensus Commission
Operationalizing a system for transitional justice
A future TRC should be embedded within a transitional justice framework, a mechanism used in post-crisis societies to address past wrongs, restore faith in the state, and establish legal and political guardrails to prevent democratic backsliding.
Following the next election, Parliament can enact legislation within six to eight months to establish an autonomous TRC. Its credibility may be safeguarded through a series of measures, including a transparent appointment process involving civil society, legal practitioners, human rights defenders, and academics.
The initial objective should be to secure broad-based public trust and legitimacy writ large by convincing a significant plurality of citizens that this is the best way forward, one that forbids acts of vengeance and political violence against opponents and centers justice, and only justice, as the toolkit via which the AL question can be answered: Whether there is sufficient justification to ban the party entirely, which is frankly not advisable as it would drive AL grassroots activists further underground, or whether a smarter and more strategic tactic would be to hold individuals accountable rather than dismantling the organization as a whole.
A tiered or phased model should be employed: Senior officials and perpetrators responsible for authorizing criminal offenses will face prosecution, while those with secondary involvement may be eligible for conditional amnesty contingent upon full disclosure. Peripheral actors can engage in public acknowledgment forums and community-based reconciliation initiatives to address their indirect roles in perpetuating systemic abuse. This approach will provide an opportunity to bring forward public servants, such as law enforcement officials, to testify against the former regime, similar in concept to how congressional hearings take place in the United States.
To maintain momentum and overarching public buy-in, the TRC can provide quarterly progress reports to Parliament. An interim report may be published within 12 months, culminating in a thorough final report within a couple of years.
This report can identify responsible individuals and institutions, detail findings, and present policy recommendations with binding legal authority, supported by subsequent legislative measures and monitored through parliamentary oversight. In addition to South Africa, examining how the TRC model was applied in Canada in the context of indigenous reconciliation and its subsequent outcomes can provide important insights.
For the interim government, this is the best option to consider. It has no choice but to initiate discussions on tackling a wicked problem that seems to be preventing other, more important public policy matters from coming to the forefront. The reality is that the AL leadership has shown no inclination toward accountability, and expecting an apology, usually a precursor to transitional justice, is unrealistic.
Instead of waiting for contrition, the interim government should proactively initiate talks on a TRC through the Chief Adviser-led National Consensus Commission, which has begun to seek answers to a set of very difficult questions about the future path Bangladesh wants to take both politically and in terms of public policy.
A TRC agreed upon in good faith with all political stakeholders in the next six months and implemented after the election would serve two strategic functions.
First, it would signal to both domestic and international audiences that Bangladesh has a plan to hold accountable those who enabled authoritarianism, reinforce the rule of law as the foundation for good governance, and give people the opportunity to come forward and seek apology willingly rather than through the heavy hand of the state.
Second, the likely refusal of Hasina and her closest allies to participate would isolate them further, exposing their evasion of responsibility and making them appear even more like the criminals they are.
In the bigger picture, it would provide an opening to stop playing by Hasina’s problematic playbook and start playing by a new one.
Mir Aftabuddin Ahmed is a Toronto-based public policy columnist for Bangladeshi and Canadian media outlets and policy platforms. Email: mir.ahmed@mail.mcgill.ca.