Child safety beyond ideological polarization

Recent incidents of rape and sexual abuse involving children, including the rape of the child Ramisa and cases of sexual abuse in madrasa settings, have once again triggered a familiar cycle of blame, outrage, and ideological polarization in public discourse.

Yet, reality is far more uncomfortable: Regardless of political, religious, or ideological differences, we all continue to inhabit the same social landscape.

Madrasa students, general school students, religious scholars, secular activists, parents, teachers, and ordinary citizens remain part of the same society.

If we genuinely want to protect children and reduce these incidents, we must collectively confront the deeper structural and social failures that enable abuse.

Years ago, during the height of acid violence in Bangladesh around 2012-13, oneinstitutional research paper attempted to understand the social and psychological conditions that produced perpetrators -- I had the opportunity to engage in that research.

I also had the opportunity later to conduct research on acid violence from a broader global perspective.

One important lesson from the latter work is that reactive measures alone are never enough; we need proactive or structural prevention.

This requires understanding the perspectives of the perpetrators, the institutions that shelter them, and the social environments that normalize silence.

That same approach is urgently needed now.

Over the past few years, I have observed and interacted with individuals deeply engaged in religious practices and in long-term study of the Qur’an and Hadith, in some cases with limited reflection on how these texts translate into ethical self-understanding and social responsibility.

Like any other educational process, religious education can also be disconnected from reflection and moral realization.

But at the same time, we must also resist simplistic conclusions without addressing them structurally.

This requires serious scrutiny of the structures surrounding educational institutions -- both religious and secular.

What standards are used to recruit teachers and caregivers there? Are there any meaningful background checks, psychological screenings, child protection policies, or institutional accountability mechanisms in place?

These are not isolated institutional failures, but layered governance and social processes involving regulatory gaps, uneven oversight, and broader cultures of silence that must be addressed.

But focusing only on madrasas would also be intellectually dishonest.

Rape and sexual violence are not confined to religious institutions. Abuse occurs in schools, universities, coaching centers, workplaces, neighbourhoods, and even within families. Many incidents never reach public attention precisely because perpetrators are often protected by familiarity, social power, political influence, or communal silence.

This is why the conversation cannot remain trapped within binary politics: Religious versus secular, madrasa versus general education, “us” versus “them.”

A safer society cannot be built through vengeance, polarization, or by calling on people to abandon the country.

It can only be built through collective responsibility, institutional reform, public accountability, and the courage to confront uncomfortable truths.

The question before us is not whether one side can defeat another. The real question is whether we are willing to build a society where children are genuinely safe, regardless of where they study, play, or live.

Aisha Siddika is a PhD Candidate, McMaster University. Email: asiddika@alumni.uwo.ca.