As Bangladesh approaches a decisive national election, the quality of our politics matters as much as its outcome. Elections are not merely contests for power; they are tests of truth, responsibility, and respect for the people.
Unfortunately, recent statements and campaign rhetoric by senior leaders of a religion-based party contesting for election reveal a troubling pattern -- one that relies not on policy, evidence, or a development vision, but on provocation, misinformation, and historical amnesia.
Disturbingly, this language echoes the logic and temperament of past autocratic regimes, runs counter to the democratic spirit of the July 2024 popular uprising, and risks perpetuating the very cycle of fear, division, and hatred that the people of Bangladesh have repeatedly rejected.
One such claim that the Dhaka University Central Students’ Union (DUCSU), an institution inseparable from Bangladesh’s democratic and liberation history, is an “epicentre of drugs and prostitution,” is not just false but reckless.
Dhaka University has been the cradle of our Language Movement, the mass uprising of 1969, and the intellectual backbone of the Liberation War. Generations of teachers and students from this campus paid with their lives so that Bangladesh could exist as a sovereign state. To casually malign such an institution is to insult not a building or a union, but the nation’s collective memory.
Disagreement with student politics, debate over governance, or calls for reform are all legitimate in a democracy. Character assassination is not.
When political discourse descends into sensational accusations without evidence, it reflects a deeper absence: The absence of ideas, programs, and credible solutions to people’s real problems: Jobs, prices, health care, education, and dignity.
The same pattern emerges in recent attacks on Tarique Rahman, the Chairman of the Bangladesh Nationalist Party. At a time when he has consistently articulated a policy-oriented political vision, centring on health, education, employment, agriculture, women’s empowerment, environmental protection, sports, and social dignity, criticism should engage with those ideas.
Democracies mature when policies are debated, not when personalities are vilified through distortion and rumour. Personal denunciation, detached from facts and policy substance, contributes little to voters who are increasingly demanding seriousness and solutions.
This contrast between politics grounded in development and politics driven by conspiracy has become stark. While one side speaks of reforming primary health care, empowering women through economic security, supporting farmers with transparent systems, and engaging youth through education and skills, the other appears to rely heavily on whisper campaigns, social-media disinformation, and transactional inducements. Bangladesh’s voters are far more discerning today than such tactics assume.
History, too, deserves honesty. In 1947, a certain party opposed the Bengali linguistic and cultural aspirations within Pakistan. In 1971, it aligned itself with the Pakistan military regime, actively collaborating against the Liberation War and standing on the wrong side of history when millions of Bengalis demanded freedom. Later, in the late 1980s, its political choices contributed to prolonging the autocratic rule of General Ershad, delaying the restoration of democracy.
These are not partisan interpretations but established historical facts acknowledged by scholars, journalists, and citizens across generations. A democratic society cannot move forward by erasing or reframing such realities. Reconciliation with history begins with truth, not denial.
None of this is an argument against faith, religious values, or the role of morality in public life. Bangladesh is a deeply spiritual society, and its Constitution guarantees religious freedom and pluralism. But faith-based ethics must elevate politics, not degrade it. Religion, when used as a shield for misinformation or as a tool to delegitimize national institutions, loses its moral force and public trust.
The choice before Bangladesh is therefore not between parties alone, but between political cultures. One culture respects institutions, engages in policy debate, and trusts voters with facts. The other thrives on rumours, provocations, and selective memory. One looks forward to building an inclusive, opportunity-driven Bangladesh. The other remains trapped in tactics that belong to an earlier, darker chapter of our political life.
Bangladesh’s citizens, especially its youth, have changed. They are better informed, more globally connected, and less tolerant of empty rhetoric. They want politics that speaks to their future, not politics that weaponizes the past or maligns the very institutions that made that future possible.
In this election, truth itself is on the ballot. And history has shown, time and again, that when Bangladeshis are given a clear choice between fear and hope, between rumour and reason, they choose dignity, democracy, and progress.
Ziauddin Hyder is Adviser to the Chairman, Bangladesh Nationalist Party and former Senior Health Specialist of World Bank. Views expressed are the writer’s own.
