Hyenas of the defeated forces of 1971 now roam unchallenged.

A medieval darkness has descended upon the sacred land of independent Bangladesh. Law and order lie in shambles. Robbery and organised plunder now stain towns and villages alike. The nation stands captured by anti-Bangladesh forces—those who once trembled before the ideals of 1971 but now strut shamelessly across the land in this grim interregnum.

The illegal and unconstitutional “Interim Government” led by Prof. Dr. Muhammad Yunus has exposed its moral bankruptcy by failing to safeguard the sanctity of our national icons—Bangabandhu Memorial Museum, his murals, his statues, and the homes and temples of our religious minorities, especially the Hindu community.

Hyenas of the defeated forces of 1971 now roam unchallenged. Bangladesh has been thrust into the hands of the very criminals and collaborators whom history had once consigned to disgrace.

Let us be absolutely clear: Sheikh Hasina’s fall did not occur because of a student-led anti-quota movement. That movement was merely the surface ripple concealing a deep and treacherous undercurrent. From the very beginning, the unrest was a meticulously crafted pretext—a multilayered, billion-dollar blueprint engineered by a powerful Western intelligence agency acting in close concert with its local henchmen.

Among these were Dr. Yunus, long a favoured protégé of foreign powers; the Jamaat-BNP nexus; the Pakistani ISI; extremist right-wing Islamist networks; an ambitious army chief and his loyal cabal; and even the strategic manipulations of the Chinese dragon. Together, this unholy coalition executed a hawk-eyed operation to unseat Sheikh Hasina through an unlawful coup on 5 August 2024.

The objective of this foreign power was as brazen as it was sinister: to compel Bangladesh to surrender Saint Martin’s Island. Situated in the northeastern Bay of Bengal, the island offers unparalleled strategic advantage over Southeast Asia and the broader Indo-Pacific. Sheikh Hasina, steadfast and patriotic, refused to reduce Bangladesh to a tributary state by allowing the establishment of a foreign military base.

For this refusal, she was removed.

What followed her ousting exposed the true barbarism of the conspirators. Looting, arson, temple desecration, forced occupation of minority homes, and unchecked violence swept across the nation with an intensity unseen in decades.

The perpetrators were not faceless; they were the same elements who opposed the Liberation War in 1971—Jamaat-e-Islami mass-murderers, their Shibir offspring, extremist mullahs, and various mercenary groups driven by religious bigotry and political vengeance.

On television, I witnessed scenes that seared my soul: a Hindu girl being dragged away by bearded zealots in a van while her father ran behind, crying in desperation; mobs of students—many naïve, many manipulated—raiding Sheikh Hasina’s home and proudly displaying stolen sarees before TV cameras; thugs parading items looted from the Prime Minister’s residence as if these were trophies of national triumph.

These were not acts of rebellion; they were acts of savagery.

And then came the final abomination: the attack on Bangabandhu’s historic home at Dhanmondi 32—the lighthouse of our national identity. What kind of nation allows the house of its founding father to be desecrated? What kind of creatures tear apart the very symbols of their own freedom?

These hellish beings sought not only to erase Sheikh Hasina’s legacy but to wipe out every sign of the Awami League’s monumental development achievement—bridges, highways, mega-projects, and the billions of dollars invested for the people’s welfare.

The “Interim Government” formed on 8 August 2024—under the shadow of guns and the blessing of foreign manipulators—had no constitutional basis. It was a grotesque aberration led by an octogenarian whose own judicial record is marred by convictions for labour law violations. Yet he postured as a saviour while presiding over the country’s descent into ruin.

Russia had warned us. On 15 December 2020, and again in 2023, Moscow publicly stated that a certain Western power intended to topple Sheikh Hasina if she returned to power. They predicted an Arab-Spring-style operation—one centred on university students, amplified by media propaganda, and lubricated by covert funding.

The children of this country—who never saw 1971, who do not know the long, treacherous shadow of the U.S.-Pakistani conspiracy behind Bangabandhu’s assassination—walked blindly into a geopolitical minefield. One day, they will look back in regret, realising they were pawns in a far greater game. By then, the damage may be irreversible.

Why were the verdicts timed as they were? Why did certain newspapers and television channels give extraordinary coverage from the very first hour? Who coordinated the protests? Who supplied funds, food, and logistics? Who weaponised social media? Who reaped the benefits? These questions answer themselves.

Most critically: Sheikh Hasina has not resigned. She remains the lawfully elected and rightful Prime Minister of Bangladesh. Her removal was effected at gunpoint—by an unworthy army chief and his mango-twigs, acting under the directives of foreign masters and their local Islamist proxies.

Today, Bangladesh is being forced toward a Hamas-ISIS styled banana republic, a grotesque distortion of the secular, democratic state for which we fought in 1971.

As a frontline Freedom Fighter who witnessed the brutal birth of Bangladesh with my own eyes, I pledge—until my final breath—to proclaim: Joy Bangla, Joy Bangabandhu, and Joytu Sheikh Hasina. Bangladesh awaits her return. And return she shall.

Disclaimer: Views expressed by writers in this section are their own and do not reflect Milli Chronicle’s point-of-view.

In a cruel twist of fate, the criminals’ progeny now don the robes of righteousness while the true patriots stand accused.

In the dismal theatre of Bangladesh’s recent political tragedy, a new act of deception unfolds. Draped in the solemn garb of justice but driven by blood-soaked ambitions, the International Crimes Tribunal (ICT) Bangladesh now stands as a grotesque caricature of its former purpose.

The very institution once designed to mete out justice for the heinous atrocities of 1971 has been infiltrated—occupied—by those whose ideological ancestors – Jamaat-e-Islami mass-murderers bathed this soil in the blood of innocents.

Today, the hangman wears a wig, and justice lies gagged beneath his boot.

The ICT Bangladesh, once hailed as a beacon of national redemption, is now but a blighted husk—a sanctimonious facade controlled by those who once sought to crush the very birth of Bangladesh in 1971. Its judges, its prosecution panel, and its operatives are no longer guardians of truth. They are, in many cases, ideological descendants or direct cronies of the very Jamaat-e-Islami mass murderers who collaborated with the Pakistani army to massacre our people in 1971.

This is no idle allegation. It is a scream from the soul of a wounded nation. How did the butchers of Al-Badr and Al-Shams—the enforcers of genocide—regain the power to adjudicate truth and fiction? How dare they now point a crooked finger at the very architects of our liberation?

Those who once carried the green flag of Pakistan into our neighborhoods, who torched our villages, raped our mothers, and hanged our fathers, now sit in judgment over HPM Sheikh Hasina—the daughter of our founding father—and the Awami League stalwarts who carried the torch of independence through blood and fire.

The July–August 2024 events in Bangladesh—twisted into a grotesque narrative of state-led genocide—are being weaponized by these impostors. 98% murders were committed by the Jamaat-Shibir butchers and their direful mango-twigs! But they have now seized the ICT Bangladesh as their instrument, not of justice, but of revenge. They seek to rewrite history, to humiliate the legacy of 1971, to exonerate the traitors and criminalize the freedom fighters.

This is a blasphemy of the highest order.

The tribunals have become kangaroo courts where truth is the first casualty. The prosecutors do not seek justice; they seek retribution for the defeat their fathers suffered in 1971. The judges do not interpret the law; they distort it, drape it around the gallows they build for patriots. These are not courts of law. They are execution chambers for history itself.

Let us remind these usurpers: HPM Sheikh Hasina’s government did not commit genocide in July–August 2024. Her government sought to preserve order when chaos was unleashed by foreign-backed infiltrators, aided by the very ideological heirs of Jamaat-e-Islami.

The arson, sabotage, and killings were not orchestrated by the state, but by a coalition of dark forces determined to unseat the legitimate government and restore the regime of direful collaborators.

Let there be no confusion—this is not merely a judicial matter. It is an existential crisis. The ICT Bangladesh has mutated into a Trojan horse of the Jamaati-Shibir nexus. Its continued existence in this form is a mockery of every martyr who bled on the soil of Bengal for freedom. The very men who once branded the war of 1971 as “haram” and pledged allegiance to the occupying Pakistani forces are now masquerading as custodians of justice.

How far have we fallen when the freedom fighters must plead their innocence before the ideological descendants of their oppressors?

In courtrooms darkened by deceit, verdicts are preordained. The hallowed robes of justice are smeared with the filth of hypocrisy. And those who cry for a fair trial for Sheikh Hasina and her colleagues are dismissed, vilified, and condemned.

Yet it is the nation that must rise.

We must speak not just as citizens, but as inheritors of a sacred cause. We must rise in unison against this vile masquerade of justice. We must denounce the ICT Bangladesh for what it has become—a collaborator’s tribunal, a platform for vengeance, a stage for the desecration of our liberation war.

The institutions that betray the soul of a nation have no right to exist.

It is, therefore, imperative that ICT Bangladesh in designedly the current form be disbanded—tout de suite. Its structure, infiltrated by Jamaati sympathizers, has lost all credibility. Its verdicts are poisoned, its judges compromised, its mission perverted. The house must be torn down, brick by brick, and a new temple of justice must be built upon its ashes—one that honors the martyrs, that reveres the truth, and that punishes the real criminals of our blood-stained past.

This is not merely a political stance. It is a moral imperative.

Let us revisit the history these court jesters now seek to erase. In 1971, over three million of our people were butchered. Over three hundred thousand women were raped. The killers were not nameless shadows—they wore uniforms provided by Pakistan and were guided by the murderous hands of Jamaat-e-Islami and their Al-Badr militias. They swore to crush the dream of Bangladesh. They failed—because brave men and women stood tall, among them Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, his true-blue lieutenants and his indomitable daughter HPM Sheikh Hasina.

And now, fifty-four years later, we see the grotesque irony of history: the children of those butchers deciding the fate of those who built this nation.

No! A thousand times, no!

We cannot allow this to continue. We must name the imposter judges. We must unmask the collaborators in prosecutor’s clothing. We must confront every verdict that reeks of vengeance and vendetta. The ICT Bangladesh, as it stands today, is a dagger in the back of our history. It has become a safehouse for the ideological murderers of 1971.

If we stay silent, we become complicit.

This is the hour to rise—not with arms, but with truth. Not with blood, but with remembrance. Let every Bangladesh’s people who still feels the heartbeat of 1971 throb in their veins raise their voice. Let the youth know that justice is not a costume, that truth cannot be handed over to traitors, that history must be defended.

Sheikh Hasina is not on trial. Bangladesh is.

This tribunal is not about the past. It is a cold war for the future.

Do not allow the hangman’s wig to fool you. Beneath it is the same rotting head that once declared our liberation illegal, our flag a provocation, our language a blasphemy.

Disband ICT Bangladesh as it is twisted now to serve their evil designs. Root out the Jamaati infestation. Purge the judiciary of traitors. Let the nation reclaim the moral compass of 1971.

And to those who sit in judgment today—be warned. The people of Bangladesh are not blind. The river of our memory runs deep. And when justice returns, as it must, it will not be cloaked in hypocrisy. It will come roaring like a storm, not to hang patriots, but to redeem them.

History does not forget.

And neither shall we. A vile masquerade of justice – The International Crimes Tribunal, Bangladesh beneath Jamaati-Shibir butchers’ cloak.