The question is not whether citizens should vote; universal suffrage is non-negotiable. The question is whether the state has done enough to ensure that voting is an act of understanding rather than compliance, writes Khandaker Lutful Khaled
AS BANGLADESH prepares for both a national referendum and a parliamentary election in February 2026, the public conversation has largely revolved around electoral timelines, political alliances, and procedural logistics. These matters are important, but they obscure a more fundamental democratic question: are citizens sufficiently equipped to make informed political choices? Democracy does not rest solely on the act of voting. It rests on the capacity of citizens to understand what they are voting for. In Bangladesh, persistent gaps in literacy, comprehension and numeracy raise serious concerns about whether forthcoming electoral exercises, particularly a referendum, can genuinely reflect informed public consent.
Bangladesh has, by most conventional measures, made notable progress in expanding access to education. Official figures from the Bangladesh Bureau of Statistics place overall literacy in the mid-70 per cent range, while data from the UNESCO Institute of Statistics indicate that adult literacy among those aged 15 and above stands at around 79 per cent. These figures are often cited as evidence of educational advancement and democratic readiness. Yet a closer look reveals a more uneven and troubling reality. Literacy rates decline to roughly three-quarters among the core voting-age population of 25 to 64, and fall sharply among citizens aged 65 and above, a demographic that still constitutes a significant share of the electorate.
More importantly, these headline figures conceal a deeper and more consequential problem. Formal literacy, defined narrowly as the ability to read and write simple text, does not necessarily translate into functional literacy or numeracy. The ability to read with comprehension, interpret information, evaluate numerical claims and apply basic reasoning to real-life situations remains significantly weaker when measured through functional assessments rather than self-reported ability. Literacy that does not enable understanding cannot be equated with empowerment. When citizens struggle to interpret written material, assess policy claims, or follow complex arguments, their capacity to participate meaningfully in democratic decision-making is fundamentally constrained.
This distinction matters profoundly in the context of an election and a referendum. Many voters may be counted as ‘literate’ on paper yet lack the comprehension skills necessary to understand ballot language, policy implications, or the long-term consequences of constitutional or institutional changes. Older voters, rural populations and those educated under chronically under-resourced systems are particularly vulnerable. In such conditions, voting risks becoming an act guided less by understanding than by habit, loyalty, or external cues.
Political communication in Bangladesh often relies on slogans, symbolism and emotionally charged narratives rather than clear policy explanation. Legal or constitutional issues are frequently framed in dense language inaccessible to the average citizen, while competing claims are reduced to binaries of loyalty and betrayal. Where comprehension is limited, voters are pushed towards reliance on party symbols, religious or social authority figures and perceived group interests, rather than substantive evaluation of policy choices. The problem is not that citizens are incapable of understanding, but that the political and educational systems have failed to equip them with the tools required for critical engagement.
This concern is not new. In Pedagogy of the Oppressed, Paulo Freire argued that literacy is not merely the technical ability to decode words, but the capacity to ‘read the world’: to understand power relations, social structures, and cause-and-effect. Education that teaches recognition without comprehension, Freire warned, produces participation without agency. People may take part in civic rituals, but lack the ability to question, challenge, or hold power to account.
Applied to elections, this insight is unsettling. Voting without understanding may appear democratic, but risks becoming a symbolic act rather than an exercise of agency. When citizens cannot assess material consequences, political communication shifts away from explanation towards mobilisation. Appeals to emotion, identity and fear become more effective than reasoned argument — not because voters are inherently irrational, but because the system has not prioritised their political literacy.
The risks are amplified in the case of a referendum. Referendums are the most demanding form of democratic participation. They reduce complex legal or policy questions into a binary choice while assuming that voters understand the institutional, constitutional and long-term implications of their decision. In a low-information environment, this assumption does not hold.
In such a context, a referendum risks becoming a plebiscite driven by emotion rather than deliberation; a test of party allegiance rather than issue-based judgment; or a mechanism for legitimising decisions already taken elsewhere. When held alongside a parliamentary election, the danger intensifies. The referendum question is likely to be interpreted through partisan lenses, collapsing two distinct democratic processes into a single contest of political loyalty.
From a Freirean perspective, this is particularly troubling. Participation without critical consciousness does not challenge power; it reproduces it. A referendum conducted in an environment of limited comprehension risks functioning less as an expression of popular will than as a confirmation ritual, offering the appearance of consent without its substance.
Low levels of functional literacy and numeracy also create fertile ground for misinformation. Simplistic narratives, half-truths and fear-based claims spread more easily than nuanced explanations. Complex issues are moralised or personalised, dissent is delegitimised and citizens are mobilised for or against positions they may not fully understand. This is not a failure of voters. It is a failure of institutions that treat democracy as an episodic event rather than a continuous process.
The democratic cost of such conditions is substantial. Elections and referendums may meet procedural requirements while failing substantively. Outcomes may carry the appearance of popular legitimacy without the moral authority that comes from informed choice. Over time, this hollowness corrodes trust. When decisions justified in the name of ‘the people’s mandate’ fail to improve lives, citizens grow cynical — not only about leaders, but about democracy itself.
The question is not whether citizens should vote; universal suffrage is non-negotiable. The question is whether the state has done enough to ensure that voting is an act of understanding rather than compliance. Without sustained investment in functional literacy, numeracy, civic education and accessible public communication, democratic exercises risk becoming hollow rituals — democratic in form, but impoverished in substance. As Freire reminded us, genuine participation requires more than inclusion. It requires consciousness.
Khandaker Lutful Khaled, former staff of United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF), is an education and child rights activist.
