Kyrgyzstan has reaffirmed its commitment to abolishing the death penalty following a period of intense public debate triggered by a high-profile criminal case, with authorities and international partners emphasizing prevention and rule-of-law reforms as more effective responses to violent crime.

The debate emerged after the rape and murder of a young girl in September 2025, which prompted widespread public outrage and calls for the reinstatement of capital punishment. The issue quickly gained political traction, culminating in a formal proposal by President Sadyr Japarov to seek a constitutional review of whether the death penalty could be reintroduced.

The Constitutional Court delivered its ruling on 10 December 2025, concluding that reinstating capital punishment would violate Kyrgyzstan’s international treaty obligations, which are embedded within its constitutional framework. The decision effectively blocked any immediate return to the death penalty and reinforced the country’s legal commitments under international law.

Kyrgyzstan has maintained a moratorium on executions since 1998 and formally abolished the death penalty in 2010 following its ratification of the Second Optional Protocol to the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights. The protocol obliges signatory states to take all necessary measures to prevent the reintroduction of capital punishment.

The United Nations human rights office played a consultative role throughout the process. According to Matilda Bogner, Regional Representative for Central Asia, the office engaged with both executive and judicial authorities to provide guidance on international legal standards and treaty obligations.

“It is positive to see that despite an initiative that appeared to have strong public backing but did not comply with international obligations, the rule of law approach ultimately prevailed in Kyrgyzstan,” Bogner said.The episode has also prompted broader discussions within the country about the nature of justice, particularly in cases involving serious violent crime.

While public sentiment in the aftermath of the incident favored harsher punitive measures, international human rights officials have argued that such approaches are not supported by evidence as effective deterrents.UN High Commissioner for Human Rights Volker Türk said that while the crimes cited by authorities were “clearly appalling” and required accountability, there is no empirical basis to conclude that capital punishment reduces the incidence of serious offenses.

He called instead for responses grounded in prevention, victim protection, and institutional strengthening.Türk emphasized the need for a “well-resourced, victim-centred approach” to tackling violence, particularly sexual and gender-based violence.

This approach, he said, should focus on improving access to justice and ensuring that systems are capable of responding effectively to early warning signs.Bogner echoed this perspective, noting that a predictable and consistent rule-of-law framework is more effective in preventing violence than reintroducing capital punishment into a system that may lack uniformity in enforcement. “A rule of law process that is predictable is a better form of prevention of egregious cases,” she said.

The focus on prevention has translated into ongoing institutional reforms. The UN human rights office is working with Kyrgyzstan’s Ministry of Internal Affairs to develop a new risk assessment system aimed at strengthening early intervention in cases of gender-based violence. The system is intended to enable law enforcement agencies to identify potential risks, monitor evolving situations, and take timely action to prevent escalation.

Authorities in Kyrgyzstan have also reiterated their commitment to upholding international legal standards following the Constitutional Court’s decision. Officials, including representatives from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, have emphasized the importance of maintaining adherence to the rule of law while addressing public concerns over safety and justice.

The case highlights the challenges faced by governments in balancing public demand for punitive measures with international legal obligations and evidence-based policy approaches. It also underscores the broader shift in international human rights discourse toward prevention-focused strategies, particularly in addressing gender-based violence.

Efforts to strengthen legal and institutional frameworks are seen as critical to improving outcomes for victims. This includes ensuring that police and judicial systems are adequately resourced, capable of responding promptly to complaints, and equipped to handle sensitive cases involving women and girls.

The UN human rights office has indicated that its engagement with Kyrgyz authorities will continue, with a focus on building systems that prioritize accountability and prevention. The approach aligns with broader international efforts to address gender-based violence through structural reforms rather than punitive escalation.

The developments in Kyrgyzstan reflect an evolving policy stance in which adherence to international obligations and evidence-based approaches are being prioritized over retributive measures, even in the face of strong public pressure following serious criminal incidents.

Freeman, 56, was shot dead by police on Monday at a remote property in northern Victoria, bringing to an end an extensive manhunt that began in August last year when he fled into dense bushland following the fatal shooting of two officers at his rural home.

Victoria Police said a man and a woman were detained at separate properties on Saturday morning and would be questioned over potential assistance provided to the fugitive during his time on the run.

“The investigation remains ongoing and as such, we are not in a position to provide further details at this immediate time,” police said in a statement.

Authorities had deployed significant resources in the search for Freeman, who was accused of killing 59-year-old detective Neal Thompson and 35-year-old senior constable Vadim De Waart when officers attended his property.

A third officer was wounded in the lower body during the incident.

Victoria Police Chief Commissioner Mike Bush earlier described the operation as one of the most resource-intensive in Australian policing history, adding investigators believed Freeman may have relied on local support to remain concealed.

“It would be very difficult for him to get to where he was without assistance,” Bush said following Freeman’s death.

The arrests mark the latest development in the investigation into the circumstances that enabled Freeman to evade authorities for months despite a large-scale coordinated search across rural Victoria.

Co-Author SM Faiyaz Hossain

Under the current interim regime, extrajudicial violence has not merely been tolerated; it has been routinized.

Once lionized as the “banker to the poor,” Mohammad Yunus the microcredit mythologist now presides—directly or symbolically—over a Bangladesh in slow-motion disintegration. Over the past fourteen months, the mounting crises—economic, legal, social and political—no longer speak of mere instability; they shout systemic collapse and kleptocracy. Yunus’s promise of reform now rings hollow amid daily horrors.

The promise reflects his longstanding fictitious tales of donor friendly rhetoric and fundraising manuals pertaining to three zeros; and sending poverty to museums. 

Economic Stagnation and Social Collapse

Bangladesh’s long-praised growth trajectory has lost traction. In FY 2024–25, growth fell to 4.1 %, the weakest since the COVID era, per World Bank assessment. If the investment drought deepens, projections suggest a drop toward 3.3 % in 2025.

Over 100 garment factories have shuttered over the past year, costing tens of thousands of jobs (Daily Industry BD). Official unemployment hovers at 4.6 %, but a deeper reckoning of underemployment, youth joblessness, and hidden labor markets suggests far higher human cost (Daily Observer). Nearly 85 % of workers remain informal—no contracts, no social protection (Dhaka Tribune).

In industrial belts like Gazipur, police acknowledge many arrested for petty theft or street mugging are recently laid-off factory workers (New Age). When the state fails to provide, survival becomes the only logic, and crime swells to fill the void.

Theories of Yunus delivered to convince his Western philanthropists have failed to make financial relevance with Global investors. Yunus doesn’t just lack political acumen, he was too naïve to begin his step in the game. 

Lawlessness, State Terror, and Mob Carnage

Justice no longer exists as a concept, only as a performative façade masking systemic brutality and institutional collapse. Under the current interim regime, extrajudicial violence has not merely been tolerated; it has been routinized. In the first quarter of 2025 alone, at least 8 extrajudicial killings and 19 deaths in custody were documented.

Between August 2024 and March 2025, human rights monitors recorded 20 such killings, involving torture, beatings, and summary executions. Mob lynchings have surged with terrifying ferocity: between mid-2024 and mid-2025, at least 637 people were lynched—representing a twelvefold increase from the 51 deaths recorded in 2023.

This wave of vigilante violence has been met with state indifference—if not tacit encouragement. Simultaneously, religious minorities have been subjected to a coordinated campaign of persecution: between August 2024 and June 2025, 2,442 hate crimes—including arson, sexual assaults, desecration of temples and churches, and targeted killings—were recorded, underscoring a culture of impunity that has metastasized into open terror.

These are not isolated incidents but symptoms of a regime where law is weaponized, justice is ornamental, and human life is expendable.

Since Muhammad Yunus assumed office, there has been a disturbing rise in alleged political persecution through the legal system: arrests, false lawsuits, and invented murder charges serving as tools of harassment rather than justice. Beyond the courts, thousands have been detained under Operation Devil Hunt, with over 11,300 arrests reported by late February 2025, many allegedly including people with only tenuous or no links to criminal acts. 

Yunus never had, never tried for public mandate. Employed by the protesters of July uprising is far from being a democratic mandate. Yunus never had the courage to face a public referendum to justify his throne. He preferred to enjoy the authority, ban political parties without referendum and promote divisive rhetoric among the masses. 

Women, Children, and the Machinery of Cruelty

The sexual violence statistics are a national disgrace. In the first half of 2025, 481 rape cases were reported—nearing the total for all of 2024 (The Daily Star). Child rape cases, in just one seven-month span, rose by 75 % (The Daily Star).

Protests led by women or students are met with torture, rape threats, solitary confinement (Human Rights Watch). Ibtedayi teachers demanding job recognition were beaten, tear-gassed, and dispersed in January 2025 (JMBF).

Prisons continue to serve as killing grounds. Deaths in custody are frequent; euphemisms like “heart attacks” or “natural causes” mask systematic violence.

Corpses in Rivers: the Floating Dead

A macabre trend haunts Bangladesh’s waterways. River police data show that in 2025, an average of 43 bodies each month have been pulled from rivers, up from 36 per month in 2024. From January to July 2025 alone, 301 bodies were recovered; 92 remain unidentified. Narayanganj recorded 34 recoveries, Dhaka 32 (Daily Star).

In one case, a woman and a child were found floating in the Buriganga River, both strangled before being dumped, according to autopsy (Financial Post BD). In late August, a headless body was recovered from the Shitalakkhya River in Narayanganj; the victim was later identified as a 27-year-old man (Financial Post BD).

In Keraniganj, the bodies of a man and woman were discovered tied with a 50-kg rice sack, and another victim in a burqa drifted nearby (Financial Post BD).

In Netrokona District (March 2025), the bodies of three fish poachers were found in the Dhanu River after clashes involving community groups (bdnews24). In Chandpur, two older men were retrieved from the Dakatia River—one with visible stab wounds and a severed leg vein (Dhaka Tribune)¹⁷.

In Khulna, over 50 bodies were pulled from various rivers between August 2024 and September 2025; 20 remain unidentified (Khulna naval police). In Chandpur’s Meghna River, seven bodies from an Al Bakhira cargo vessel murder were handed over to families—and a probe committee was formed (BD Pratidin).

Notably, the body of journalist Bibhuranjan Sarkar—after threats and intimidation—was recovered from the Meghna River in Munshiganj in August 2025 (IFJ / BMSF).

These are not accidents or drownings; they are executions turned invisible, pollution turned weapon, rivers made into graveyards without funeral. 

Passport, Visas, and Global Shame

Bangladesh’s passport value has eroded, visa rejections are multiplying, and global watchdogs—HRW, Odhikar, UN human rights bodies—have flagged Dhaka for systemic violations.

The moral capital of the country is bankrupt. Investors and donors hesitate to engage with a government intertwined with terror, silence, and complicity.

Disasters as Symptoms, Not Anomalies

The October 13, 2025 garment-chemical factory fire in Dhaka, which killed 16 workers, was not a random accident — it was a preventable massacre. Locked rooftop escape doors and unchecked toxic gas turned the building into a sealed crematorium.

Days later, the Yunus government has failed to launch any credible investigation, identify the factory owners, or bring those responsible to justice.

No arrests have been made, no compensation schemes publicly disclosed, and no structural safety audits initiated. Instead, the administration has issued vague statements and deflected responsibility, shielding business interests at the expense of workers’ lives. This silence is not mere negligence — it is complicity. 

This is not a standalone incident, rather a pattern. The handling of the Gazi Tire Factory fire tragedy reflects a troubling pattern of negligence and institutional disregard for accountability.

Despite the devastating loss of life and clear safety failures, Yunus—under whose interim government the incident unfolded—failed to ensure a thorough, transparent investigation or meaningful compensation for victims’ families.

This inaction not only denied justice to the workers but also signaled an alarming indifference to labor rights and workplace safety. In the past 13 months, similar negligence has been observed in incidents such as the Hazaribagh factory fire (2024) and the Chittagong shipbreaking yard accidents (2024-2025), where victims were met with inadequate investigations and stalled compensation efforts.

By neglecting to pursue corporate responsibility and systemic reform, Yunus reinforced the vulnerability of industrial workers in Bangladesh, deepening mistrust between the state and its most exploited laborers. His failure to act decisively in the aftermath stands as a stark contradiction to his international image as a champion of social justice.

Over the past 13 months of the Yunus regime, Bangladesh’s labour sector has been trapped in a cycle of grand promises, fragile protections, and cynical neglect. The government’s repeated declarations of “historic reforms” amounted to little more than political theatre, as factory floors across the country continued to mirror a grim reality of wage theft, unsafe workplaces, and repressed voices.

While MoLE boasted of upcoming amendments to labour laws, millions of workers — especially in the sprawling informal sector — remained invisible to the legal system. Inspection bodies were underfunded and toothless, allowing factory owners to operate with impunity as thousands were laid off illegally, denied benefits, and silenced when they protested.

Unionization was stifled, particularly in Export Processing Zones, where rights existed only on paper, and “social audits” became nothing more than PR rituals for global brands. Worker unrest exploded repeatedly, from delayed Eid allowances to unpaid salaries and unsafe conditions, yet the government responded with empty press briefings and tokenistic committees.

The much-touted October 2025 labour law reform deadline became a symbol of inertia, tangled in corporate resistance and bureaucratic gamesmanship. The past year has laid bare a bitter truth: under Yunus’s leadership, labour rights were not defended — they were traded off, delayed, and dismissed, leaving workers to fight alone against a system designed to exploit them.

From Savior Icon to Enabler of Decay

Mohammad Yunus once embodied a hopeful alternative—microcredit, grassroots empowerment, moral leadership. Yet under his interim leadership, Bangladesh is unravelling in every direction: economic collapse, mob justice, sexual violence, extrajudicial killings, rivers flooded with corpses, and institutional impotence. From Teachers to slums, the elites to poets all have suffered under the Yunus’ reign of Terror. 

Yunus may not have physically ordered every atrocity, but he now presides over a regime that normalized them. His Nobel halo cannot conceal the inferno beneath. Rebuilding a nation demands more than symbolic leadership—it demands justice, accountability, and courage. Today, Bangladesh has none. Yunus had the opportunity to unite the nation and develop a social contract among the political parties. Instead what Yunus has contributed had cemented a pipeline for cycle of violence to multiply in the future. 

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

Statistics cannot capture the sound of a cell door closing on a lawyer who once argued for others’ freedom.

It began, as so many stories of injustice do, with a courtroom and a promise of fairness that never came.

On 2 September 2025, twelve lawyers in Barguna district walked into the District Sessions Judge’s Court—heads high, robes pressed, faith intact. They had come not as fugitives, but as officers of the court, surrendering in good faith to defend themselves against false and fabricated charges of vandalism and arson at a local BNP office.

The judge denied their bail. They were taken away in handcuffs.

Eight days later, on 10 September, the High Court granted six weeks’ bail to ten of them. For their families waiting outside prison gates, it was a moment of relief—wives preparing meals, children waiting at the door. But as the release orders reached the jail, the cruel machinery of the Muhammad Yunus–led interim government moved again.

Moments before their release, the lawyers were re-arrested under a new case fabricated under the Special Powers Act by the Betagi Police Station and sent straight back to prison.

Among them were Mahabubul Bari Aslam, former President of the Barguna District Bar Association, and Advocates Mojibur Rahman, Saimum Islam Rabbi, Humayun Kabir Poltu, and Nurul Islam, respected figures in their communities. Their “freedom” lasted mere minutes—a cruel illusion that turned hope into heartbreak.

This episode exposes the grotesque logic of repression now governing Bangladesh: even when the highest court speaks, its voice is silenced by handcuffs. Bail means nothing; legality itself has become a crime.

In a democracy, imprisonment should be a last resort, used only when guilt is proven beyond doubt. But in today’s Bangladesh, under a regime led by a Nobel Peace laureate, imprisonment has become a first response—a weapon of control, not justice.

According to documentation by Justicemakers Bangladesh in France (JMBF) between August 2024 and September 2025, there were 75 incidents of imprisonment involving 203 lawyers. These are not isolated misfortunes. They are deliberate acts of political engineering, designed to dismantle independence within the legal profession, particularly among lawyers affiliated with the Bangladesh Awami League (BAL) or those who dared to defend victims of state abuse.

Each story reveals a pattern: fabricated charges, coerced surrenders, manipulated hearings, and endless pre-trial detentions. The justice system, once a shield of rights, now functions as an arm of persecution.

The Anatomy of Fabrication

Behind every fabricated case lies a story of fear.

According to JMBF’s findings, the largest share of imprisonments arose from false charges of attempted murder (15 incidents, 103 victims) and murder (25 incidents, 43 victims).

These were not random choices—they were deliberate. Murder charges carry the heaviest stigma, branding lawyers as violent criminals and ensuring long detentions before trial. The government didn’t just want to silence these lawyers—it wanted to erase their credibility, to paint defenders of justice as enemies of peace.

Other common allegations—sabotage (8 incidents) and vandalism (9 incidents)—served as flexible tools to justify mass arrests. And then there are the colonial-era relics—seditious conspiracy and extortion—revived like old weapons from a dictator’s arsenal.

These laws once served imperial masters; today, they serve an interim regime that governs through fear, turning patriotism into sedition and dissent into treason.

Arrest as a Weapon of Fear

Among the 75 imprisonment incidents, 57 involved arrests leading to imprisonment, affecting 73 victims. These were not ordinary law-enforcement actions—they were public performances of power.

Lawyers have been detained from homes, offices, and even from courtrooms. The message is unmistakable: no one is untouchable.

JMBF’s data show this pattern across the country—murder, attempted murder, sabotage, vandalism, and “seditious conspiracy” cases repeated with numbing precision. Arrests have become a psychological weapon, designed to terrify not just individuals but the entire legal fraternity.

Each detention silences one voice—and intimidates a hundred more. Bar associations hesitate to meet; young lawyers choose self-censorship over survival. The courtroom, once a place of courage, now feels like a cage.

The Trap of “Voluntary” Surrender

Perhaps the most insidious tactic employed by the interim government is the manipulation of voluntary surrender.

JMBF documented 18 such incidents, involving 130 lawyers—many accused of “attempted murder” or “vandalism.” These were lawyers who followed the law, who appeared before judges when summoned. Yet, instead of receiving fair hearings, they were immediately remanded or imprisoned.

The ordeal of Advocate Abu Sayeed Sagar, former president of the Dhaka Bar Association and ex-Legal Affairs Secretary of the Awami League, epitomizes this tactic.

During the politically tense 2023 Supreme Court Bar Association election, a brief scuffle became the pretext for criminal charges. Sagar obtained six weeks of anticipatory bail from the High Court. Then, on 5 October 2025, he voluntarily surrendered before the Dhaka Metropolitan Sessions Judge’s Court to renew his bail—a lawful and responsible act.
Instead of being heard, he was denied bail and sent to jail by Judge Sabbir Fayez.

This case shows how the Yunus-led regime has weaponized compliance itself. What should have been a routine legal procedure became a punishment for obedience.
Under Yunus, surrender no longer signifies respect for law—it is a trapdoor to imprisonment.

A Regime Built on the Ruins of Rights

The persecution of lawyers is not an accident—it is a blueprint of authoritarian control.

Since mid-2024, under the pretext of “transition,” the Yunus-led interim government has suspended civil liberties, silenced journalists, and targeted professionals suspected of political disloyalty.

The irony is unbearable: a man once celebrated for empowering the poor now presides over the imprisonment of those defending the powerless.

The Collapse of Judicial Independence

Every dictatorship begins by capturing the courts. The Yunus government has done one worse—it has hollowed them out from within.

Judges are pressured, prosecutors politicized, and bail hearings endlessly delayed. Lawyers are denied access to case files, while police fabricate evidence with impunity.

This is not merely domestic injustice—it violates Bangladesh’s obligations under Article 9 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR), which prohibits arbitrary detention.

When judges become instruments of fear instead of arbiters of law, the entire edifice of justice collapses.

Imprisonment as Preventive Repression

In this new Bangladesh, imprisonment no longer follows crime—it anticipates it.

Lawyers are detained not for what they did, but for what they might do. This is preventive repression—criminalizing potential dissent.

By incarcerating lawyers, the regime has effectively imprisoned the idea of justice itself. When defenders become defendants, a nation’s moral compass is lost.

The Human Cost

Statistics cannot capture the sound of a cell door closing on a lawyer who once argued for others’ freedom.

Many imprisoned lawyers languish in overcrowded cells, denied medical care, cut off from their families. Some have been beaten. Others have fled abroad, leaving behind shattered practices and broken lives.

In every courthouse corridor, fear now walks silently. The rule of law has been replaced by the rule of intimidation.

The International Dimension of Betrayal

When Muhammad Yunus took charge, many abroad saw him as a reformer—a moral voice who would guide Bangladesh toward democracy.

But moral authority demands moral action. The mass imprisonment of lawyers is a betrayal not just of Bangladesh’s Constitution, but of international law and the ideals Yunus once symbolized.

Bangladesh is bound by the UN Basic Principles on the Role of Lawyers (1990), which guarantee that lawyers must perform their duties “without intimidation, hindrance, harassment, or improper interference.”

Under Yunus, every one of those principles has been broken.

The Erosion of Democracy in the Name of Transition

The government calls itself “interim.” But its methods are permanent tools of authoritarianism.

It claims to save democracy by suspending it; to ensure order by silencing dissent. History knows this lie well—from Chile to Egypt, every junta has claimed necessity as its moral cover.

Bangladesh today stands on that same precipice.

A Call for International Solidarity and Accountability

The time for polite diplomacy is over. The international community must see beyond the Nobel halo and confront the stark reality unfolding in Bangladesh, where lawyers are imprisoned for defending justice. Independent investigations by the UN and other human-rights bodies are urgently needed to document the systematic persecution of legal professionals. International legal associations should actively monitor trials and proceedings, recording every violation of due process, while governments must consider targeted sanctions, including visa restrictions and asset freezes, against officials responsible for repression.

Equally critical is the protection of at-risk lawyers, with states providing emergency visas and asylum to those facing imminent arrest. Silence or neutrality from global institutions, including Nobel committees and academic bodies, is no longer acceptable; it amounts to tacit complicity in the erosion of democracy and the rule of law. The world must act decisively to uphold both human rights and the integrity of the legal profession in Bangladesh.

When the Defenders Become the Accused

The mass imprisonment of lawyers in Bangladesh marks a moral collapse of governance.

By turning the courts into instruments of punishment, the Yunus-led interim government has criminalized justice itself.

Imprisonment has ceased to be a verdict; it has become policy.

Muhammad Yunus once preached empowerment. Today, his government practices suppression.

The world must judge him not by medals, but by the misery of those imprisoned for defending freedom. Because when the defenders of justice are silenced, it is not only lawyers who are imprisoned—it is the conscience of Bangladesh itself.

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