The Yunus-led interim government provided fertile ground for Pakistan to manoeuvre this policy.

When Sheikh Hasina was removed from office in August 2024 after mismanaging two-month student uprising through violence, the political aftershocks were felt well beyond Dhaka. While an interim administration led by Nobel laureate Muhammad Yunus took charge shortly to stabilize and reset the country, but inside the shifting currents of Bangladeshi politics, there was another country saw opportunity, which was Pakistan.

For Islamabad, the fall of Prime Minister Hasina, who was long perceived as closely aligned with India, appeared to offer a rare strategic opening. The interim arrangement which was crowded by sympathizers of Bangladesh Jamaat-e-Islami, created space for religious parties long marginalized under the Awami League’s rule. Pakistan moved quickly with intensified diplomatic exchanges, and even senior military leadership of two countries making reciprocal visits.

But what increased with unusual frequency was Pakistani religious delegations travelling to different cities and towns of Bangladesh from Dhaka to Cox’s Bazar in south and Sylhet in east, among others.

Behind the choreography appeared Islamabad’s clear calculation that if Bangladesh’s Islamist political sphere could be rejuvenated, Dhaka might be kept away from New Delhi and within the broader regional orbit of Islamabad. That bet seems to have failed now. In the recently concluded 13^th general election, Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP) won a landslide two-thirds majority, winning 212 of the 299 seats on the ballot.

Led by Tarique Rahman, son of former Prime Minister Khaleda Zia and former President Ziaur Rahman, BNP campaigned on the slogan of “Bangladesh First”, emphasising that it will not be beholden to any foreign capital. This political messaging seems to have resonated powerfully with the Bangladeshi electorate.

Such a decisive vote has delivered a strong message to Pakistan, which seemed convinced that its favoured Islamist bloc will win the elections and give Islamabad a strong footing in Dhaka.

Pakistan’s Bangladesh policy in the post-Hasina moment followed a familiar template. It has for decades viewed South Asia through the prism of strategic competition with India. Where New Delhi consolidates influence, Pakistan seeks counterweights as has been witnessed in Afghanistan where this logic has shaped policy for years. In Bangladesh, Islamabad appeared to hope for a softer replay.

The Yunus-led interim government provided fertile ground for Pakistan to manoeuvre this policy. As Islamist networks that had faced political constraints under the Awami League suddenly found renewed visibility, Islamabad’s outreach extended beyond official channels into clerical and ideological spaces.

For instance, Maulana Fazlur Rehman, head of Deobandi Islamist Jamiat Ulema-e-Islam (F), led a delegation of around two dozen prominent Pakistani religious leaders to Bangladesh ahead of parliamentary election in November 2025. They addressed large gatherings, organised under the banner of Khatm-e-Nabuwat conferences, across major cities and towns of the country, which were reportedly held in support of Islamist political actors preparing to contest the February 12 election.

The symbolism of this religious affinity was hard to miss and, it seems, Islamabad believed that by encouraging the Islamization of Bangladesh’s political sphere, it could cultivate a government less beholden to India and more receptive to Pakistan.

Yet this approach rested on two flawed assumptions. Firstly, it overestimated the electoral pull of Islamist forces in contemporary Bangladesh and secondly underestimating the depth of Bangladesh’s historical memory around 1971 war crimes committed by Pakistan Army in what was then East Pakistan.

This memory and Islamabad’s reluctance to issue a formal apology over the war crimes remains central to Bangladesh’s national identity. It seems Pakistani policymakers willingly or otherwise seemed to calculate that five decades were enough to blunt that legacy and that religious affinity could transcend historical grievance.

For many Bangladeshis, Pakistan is not simply another state but a former ruler whose actions precipitated immense trauma which remains unchanged across generations. If anything, it has been institutionalized through education, public commemorations and war crimes trials. And BNP’s campaign slogans captured this sentiment with clarity as it called for “Bangladesh First” against any outright alliance with any foreign power (Na Pindi, Na Dilli).

Moreover, Pakistan’s attempt to leverage Islamization as a foreign policy tool also reveals a deeper tension. While Bangladesh is a Muslim-majority country, yet its political culture remains fundamentally based on Bengali linguistic nationalism. The Awami League’s secular framing was one expression of that synthesis.

Even the BNP, while more accommodating of religious parties as was witnessed during its earlier rules, has not sought to subordinate national policy to clerical authority. While it is true that interim government’s closeness with Jamaat-e-Islami may have energized segments of Islamist base, but, as the results showed, it did not translate into a groundswell.

Therefore, it is quite possible that Islamabad’s outreach through clerical visits, cross-border religious gatherings, symbolic solidarity may have reinforced suspicions that Islamist mobilization was being externally encouraged. For a country sensitive to sovereignty, such perceptions usually prove counterproductive.

In fact, there is an irony here.  While Pakistan’s own domestic experience illustrates the complexities of entangling religion and statecraft, yet in Bangladesh, it appeared willing to encourage precisely that dynamic in pursuit of geopolitical advantage.

Nevertheless, the failure of Pakistan’s Bangladesh bid echoes its recent miscalculation in Afghanistan where Islamabad’s military-dominated establishment believed that it possessed decisive influence in Kabul after backing Afghan Taliban’s return to power in 2021. But relations with Afghanistan today are strained, marked by months long border closure and recurrent skirmishes along the contested Durand Line dividing the two countries. 

It can be argued that Pakistan overestimated the durability of ideological affinity as a substitute for structural partnership in both the cases. Neither has religious affinity guaranteed strategic alignment with Kabul nor has it now delivered political ascendancy in Dhaka as Bangladesh’s electorate has signalled that while religion remains integral to social life, it does not automatically translate into foreign policy alignment.

For Pakistan, this presents a dilemma since Dhaka’s determination to pursue a “Bangladesh First” policy offers limited space for the kind of ideological leverage that Islamabad sought to cultivate.

While Islamabad’s Bangladesh policy after 2024 was built on the hope that a moment of political flux could be shaped into strategic realignment, its engagement will therefore need recalibration and for any pragmatism to sustain, the relations will have to be transactional and grounded in mutual interest rather than religious solidarity.

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

So why would sections of the Western world want Jamaat? What does the Yunus-led interim administration gain from this? What role is it playing?

A recent report in The Washington Post cited a US diplomat working in Bangladesh, claiming Washington wants to build “friendly relations” with Jamaat-e-Islami. The diplomat reportedly made the remarks in a closed-door discussion with a group of Bangladeshi women journalists on 1 December. The newspaper’s report, we are told, was built around an audio recording of that conversation.

In that recording, the diplomat expressed optimism that Jamaat would perform far better in the 12 February election than it has in the past. He even suggested the journalists invite representatives of Jamaat’s student wing to their programmes and events.

When the journalists raised a fear that Jamaat, if empowered, could enforce Sharia law, the diplomat’s response was striking: he said he did not believe Jamaat would implement Sharia. And even if it did, he added, Washington could respond with measures such as tariffs. He was also heard arguing that Jamaat includes many university graduates in leadership and would not take such a decision.

The Washington Post further quoted multiple political analysts suggesting Jamaat could achieve its best result in history in the 12 February vote and might even end up in power.

So, is this report simply the product of an “audio leak” published just 20 days before the interim government’s election? I don’t think so.

First, it stretches belief that Bangladeshi journalists would secretly record a closed conversation with a US diplomat and then pass it to The Washington Post.

Second, The Washington Post would almost certainly have cross-checked the audio with the diplomat concerned. If the diplomat had objected, it is hard to imagine the paper moving ahead in this way. My conclusion is blunt: this was published with the diplomat’s planning, or at least with the US embassy’s consent.

Call it what it is: a soft signal. A carefully calibrated message designed to project reassurance about Jamaat and to normalise the idea of Jamaat as a legitimate future governing force.

And then came the echo.

At the same time, two other international outlets, Reuters and Al Jazeera, also published reports about Jamaat-e-Islami. Both pointed towards the possibility of a strong Jamaat showing in the 12 February election. Al Jazeera’s tone, heavy with praise, makes it difficult not to suspect paid campaigning. More tellingly, an Al Jazeera poll recently put Jamaat’s public support at 33.6%, compared with 34.7% for the BNP.

The goal is obvious: to “naturalise” Jamaat’s pathway to power. To make what should shock the public feel ordinary. To convert the unthinkable into the plausible, and the plausible into the inevitable.

Which brings us to the unavoidable question: can Jamaat really win?

History says no. The highest share of the vote Jamaat ever secured in a normal election was in 1991: 12.13%. In the next three elections, Jamaat’s vote share fell to 8.68%, 4.28%, and 4.7%. In a genuinely competitive election, Jamaat is not a double-digit party.

But Bangladesh is not heading into a normal election. An unelected, illegitimate interim administration is preparing a managed vote while keeping the country’s largest political party, the Awami League, effectively outside the electoral process.

In that distorted arena, behind-the-scenes engineering is underway to seat Jamaat on the throne. The diplomat’s “leak”, the favourable international coverage, and the publication of flattering polls are not isolated incidents. They are the components of a single operation.

If anyone doubts the direction of travel, they should remember what happened after 5 August. In his first public remarks after that date, the army chief repeatedly addressed Jamaat’s leader with reverential language, calling him “Ameer-e-Jamaat”. From that moment onwards, Jamaat has exerted an outsized, near-monopolistic influence over Bangladesh’s political field.

Yes, Khaleda Zia’s illness, Tarique Rahman’s possible return, and even the prospect of Khaleda Zia’s death have periodically given the BNP a breeze at its back. But the reel and string of the political kite are now held elsewhere. Jamaat controls the tempo.

And it did not happen in a vacuum. The Awami League has been driven off the streets through mob violence, persecution, repression and judicial harassment. With its principal rival forced away from political life, Jamaat has been able to present itself not merely as a participant, but as an authority.

Now look at the state itself.

Every major organ of power, it is argued, is being brought under Jamaat’s influence. Within the military, “Islamisation” is being used as a cover for Jamaatisation. Fifteen decorated army officers are reportedly jailed on allegations connected to the disappearance of Abdullah Hil Azmi, the son of Ghulam Azam, widely regarded as a leading figure among the razakars. Yet it remains unclear whether Azmi was even abducted at all.

The judiciary, too, is described as falling almost entirely under Jamaat’s control. Key administrative positions, especially DCs, SPs, UNOs and OCs, are increasingly occupied by Jamaat-aligned officials.

On campuses, the story repeats itself. Through engineered student union elections, Jamaat’s student organisation, Islami Chhatra Shibir, has established dominance in Dhaka University and other leading public universities. Even vice-chancellor appointments are described as being shaped by Jamaat-friendly influence.

And while this internal consolidation accelerates, external courtship intensifies.

Since August 2024, Jamaat leaders have reportedly held at least four meetings in Washington with US authorities. Their close contact with the US embassy in Bangladesh continues. Meanwhile, the British High Commissioner has held multiple meetings with Jamaat’s ameer, widely reported in the media. Jamaat’s ameer has also visited the United Kingdom recently.

In short, Jamaat has reached a level of favourable conditions never seen since its founding. Not even in Pakistan, the birthplace of its ideological ecosystem.

So why would sections of the Western world want Jamaat? What does the Yunus-led interim administration gain from this? What role is it playing?

The answer offered here is uncompromising: the current interim government has signed multiple agreements with Western powers, particularly the United States, including an NDA arrangement and various trade deals that are described as being against public interest. Some may be public. Much remains opaque. The government wants these agreements protected. It also wants long-term leverage over Bangladesh’s politics and territory.

From a broader geopolitical perspective, Bangladesh’s land matters. It sits at a strategic crossroads. For those intent on consolidating dominance in the Asia-Pacific and simultaneously containing the influence of both China and India, Bangladesh is useful. This is part of a long game.

And if Jamaat, with weak popular legitimacy, can be installed in power, external agendas become easier to execute. The argument is stark: Jamaat, as a party of war criminals and anti-liberation forces, has no natural sense of accountability to Bangladesh’s soil or its people. In exchange for power, it would hand foreign actors a blank cheque.

Now to Dr Yunus.

The claim here is that since taking power, Yunus has already fulfilled his personal ambitions. He has rewarded loyalists with state titles and positions, creating opportunities for them to accumulate money. He has satisfied the demands of the “deep state” that installed him. In doing so, the country’s interests have been sacrificed at every step.

And throughout, Jamaat has offered Yunus unconditional support.

After the election, Yunus’s priority will be survival: a safe exit for himself and his circle. That is tied to securing the future of the student leaders who claim to have been the principal stakeholders of July. In this narrative, Jamaat is stepping in again. The NCP has already aligned with Jamaat. To maintain international lobbying strength, Jamaat will ensure Yunus’s safe exit. It may even install him in the presidency if that serves the arrangement.

So what will the BNP do?

The answer given is grim: very little. Blinded by the hunger for power, the BNP has nodded along as Yunus and his circle pushed forward actions described as hostile to the national interest. Mirza Fakhrul has publicly claimed to see Zia within Yunus. Tarique Rahman has repeatedly been seen praising Yunus. All of it, the argument goes, for a single purpose: to reach power.

But the BNP, it is suggested, failed to understand the real game. At the grassroots, many of its leaders and activists have become disconnected from the public through extortion, land-grabbing and violent intimidation. Even when visible irregularities occurred in student union elections at universities, the BNP’s student wing, Chhatra Dal, either did not protest or could not.

If Jamaat takes power through a staged election on 12 February, the BNP will have no meaningful recourse left.

And the country?

The conclusion is bleak: Bangladeshis should not expect their suffering to end any time soon. Just as a meticulously designed operation removed an elected Awami League government, another meticulous design is now being finalised to seat Jamaat-e-Islami, a party branded by the author as one of war criminals, with the backing of foreign powers.

Yunus’s anti-national agreements, it is argued, will be implemented through Jamaat’s hands. Independence, sovereignty and the constitution will be thrown into the dustbin. Secularism, women’s freedom, and minority rights will be locked away in cold storage. The destination is spelled out without ambiguity:

Bangladesh will become the Islamic Republic of Bangladesh.

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

But I shall never forget my people, especially at a time when the rise of extremist ideologies and violent political and religious persecution puts Bangladesh at serious risk of a period of decline from which it will take many years to recover.

Recently, the unelected Interim Government of Bangladesh, headed by Muhammad Yunus, announced that elections would be held on February 12th, 2026. The country’s largest secular political party, Awami League however, has been eliminated from the political process through violent persecution – including numerous lynchings, unjust imprisonment and torture – and arbitrary administrative measures.

This troubling chaos and political vacuum has given extremist political parties with a fanatical religious ideology – the Jamaat-e-Islami in particular – free rein to assume power, in the absence of a secular counterpart that historically stood against and prevented its rise. This alarming situation will inevitably give rise to years of instability and serious threats to regional security. It is imperative that the international community, and the United States in particular, ensure that any elections are free, fair, and all-inclusive.

As many human rights organizations have reported, since the overthrow of the constitutional government in August 2024, there have been numerous violent attacks against Hindu, Christian, Buddhist, and other religious minorities and their places of worship. These reports document patterns of collective punishment in districts associated with secular and opposition political parties, and districts with a sizable minority population.

Several opposition political figures, including myself, have been sentenced to death in widely-condemned trials before the International Crimes Tribunal of Bangladesh, and there is a serious fear that arbitrary executions may follow.

Ironically, the Tribunal was created in 1973 to prosecute the collaborators who assisted the Pakistani army in the genocide during the 1971 War of Independence under the leadership of my father Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, during which some 3 million Bangladeshi civilians were murdered and countless women and girls became victims of horrific sexual violence. These are the same political forces that are now seeking a come-back with the apparent support of the Interim Government.

When I was elected in 2008, Bangladesh was a hotbed of extremist forces and terrorism. In its tenure of 16 years, my government worked, under enormous pressure, to keep these fanatical movements contained and to protect the secular constitution of the country.

As a result, Bangladesh saw long periods of stability and unprecedented economic prosperity that witnessed an astonishing 500% increase in per capita GDP, lifting millions out of poverty. This progress was achieved against the backdrop of several plots to assassinate myself and my sole surviving family member, my sister Sheikh Rehana. All of our parents and siblings, including our 10-year old brother, were murdered in cold blood in 1975 by the same political forces that are today seeking power.

Extremist ideologies rarely vanish; they wait for opportunities created by political exclusion, institutional weakening and social fear. Today, all of the guardrails that once constrained them have started to crumble. But I have arisen from this valley of death before and will do so again, with one conviction: that it is my sacred duty to protect the democratic rights of Bangladesh and to promote the dignity of its people. I will continue to stand for this struggle no matter who tries to silence me.

Invariably, during this period of extraordinary prosperity, mistakes were also made, and there are many lessons to be learned on the historical path of progress. In particular, during 2024, amidst a campaign of hate propaganda, misinformation and violent insurrection, numerous protestors and police officers were killed.

I had immediately ordered an impartial inquiry to establish responsibility for these tragic deaths, which the Interim Government has abandoned in favour of politicized sham trials and death sentences, while at the same time offering immunity to those who instigated the violence. The purpose of the agitators was simply the unconstitutional overthrow of the Government, which resulted in my exile to India on August 5th, 2024, and the current predicament.

But I shall never forget my people, especially at a time when the rise of extremist ideologies and violent political and religious persecution puts Bangladesh at serious risk of a period of decline from which it will take many years to recover.

The exclusion of the secular Awami League from forthcoming elections is inextricably tied to the rise of extremists, who present a dire threat not only to the people of Bangladesh, but also to the United States and its allies, as a once stable, secular, and prosperous country descends into a source of perpetual instability, decline and terrorism.

Bangladesh, with a population of 170 million, is situated in a vital strategic region, at the centre of the Bay of Bengal, between India and Myanmar. If it falls in the hands of extremists and their global network, its fallout will carry consequences far beyond its borders.

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

Naming organised violence is not an act of destabilisation. It is an act of responsibility.

In Bangladesh today, violence no longer arrives as an unexpected shock. Under the current interim government led by Nobel Peace Laureate Muhammad Yunus, alongside several renowned human rights activists, violence now arrives with familiarity, sequence, and intent. An attack occurs. There is brief outrage. Silence follows. Then another group becomes the next target.

Supporters and leaders of the Bangladesh Awami League are assassinated, assaulted, or intimidated. Baul and Lalon practitioners are threatened, their spaces disrupted. Folk singers fall silent. Hindu homes and temples are attacked, and lives are lost. Cultural institutions are vandalised. Shrines are desecrated. Each incident is treated as isolated, yet together they form a single, deeply disturbing narrative.

This is not random disorder. This is organised violence.

Violence becomes organised not only when it is openly commanded, but when it is patterned, predictable, and politically meaningful. In Bangladesh today, the targets are not chosen by chance. They share a common thread: political opposition, religious minority identity, cultural pluralism, and spiritual traditions that resist rigid orthodoxy. When the same kinds of people and institutions are repeatedly attacked, the message is unmistakable. Certain identities are being pushed out of public life.

International law is unequivocal on this point. Bangladesh is a state party to the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, which obligates the state not only to refrain from violating rights itself, but to actively protect individuals from violence by others. When authorities fail to prevent foreseeable attacks, when investigations are slow or selective, and when accountability remains elusive, responsibility does not evaporate. Under international legal standards, inaction in the face of predictable harm constitutes a breach of duty. Silence becomes a form of permission.

The targeting of Awami League supporters and its affiliated wings represents more than political rivalry. It is a form of political erasure and cleansing. Violence used to intimidate people out of organising, speaking, or even being visibly associated with a political identity strikes at the core of democratic participation. International law does not recognise “acceptable” and “unacceptable” political beliefs. The right to participate in public life belongs to all—especially to those who have lost power.

Equally alarming is the violence directed at Bauls, Lalon followers, folk artists, and cultural spaces. These traditions embody Bengal’s pluralistic soul. They speak of spiritual humanism, dissent, and coexistence. Their silencing is not incidental; it is ideological. When cultural expression is attacked because it challenges dominant narratives, violence becomes a tool to reshape society’s moral and spiritual boundaries. International human rights law recognises culture as a protected right, not a luxury, precisely because destroying culture is a way of destroying communities without firing a gun.

The repeated attacks on Hindu communities and religious institutions deepen this concern. Under international standards, states carry heightened obligations to protect minorities. When minority homes, temples, and festivals are targeted again and again, and when protection proves inadequate, the violence can no longer be dismissed as sporadic communal tension. It becomes organised communal violence—marked by predictability and reinforced by impunity. History offers painful lessons about where such patterns lead when they are ignored.

Muslim shrines, too, have come under attack. These sacred spaces have long represented an inclusive, compassionate Islam rooted in local culture and interfaith coexistence. Their desecration reflects a broader struggle over identity and belief, where violence is used to impose a narrower and exclusionary vision of faith. This, too, is organised violence: symbolic, ideological, and strategic.

Perhaps the most dangerous aspect of the current moment is the sequence itself. Violence unfolds, pauses, resumes, and expands. Each incident tests how much can be done without consequence. International conflict-prevention frameworks identify this escalatory pattern as an early warning sign. Societies rarely collapse overnight; they are conditioned—incident by incident—to accept fear as normal.

The idea that violence must be openly ordered by the state to be considered organised is a dangerous myth. International law recognises responsibility not only in action, but in omission. When attacks are foreseeable and prevention is absent, when perpetrators are not held to account, and when victims are left exposed, violence becomes structurally enabled. Neutrality in such circumstances is an illusion.

Bangladesh still has a choice. It can confront this pattern honestly, uphold its constitutional promise of pluralism, and meet its international obligations by protecting all citizens equally—regardless of political belief, religion, or cultural identity. Or it can allow violence to continue shaping the nation’s political and social landscape through fear.

Naming organised violence is not an act of destabilisation. It is an act of responsibility. When violence becomes a method, silence becomes complicity. History will judge which path Bangladesh chose.

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

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.

The report focused on human rights violations, particularly extrajudicial killings and custodial deaths committed by law enforcement personnel as well as prison authorities during the period from August 2024 to July 2025.

The report was prepared based on the research of JMBF Executive Committee member Ms. Jannatul Ferdous and edited by JMBF’s founding president, Advocate Shahanur Islam. It compiled information on 70 deaths in 60 incidents across the country, where extrajudicial killings and custodial deaths occurred at the hands of law enforcement agencies, prison authorities, and other security forces.

According to the published information, among the deceased, 55% (43 people in 33 incidents) died directly at the hands of security forces, while 45% (27 people) died in prisons, mainly due to torture in police remand and medical negligence. Almost all of the deceased were leaders, activists, or supporters of the Bangladesh Awami League, although minority communities, workers, and non-political citizens were also victims of killings.

The report mentioned that during a peaceful protest rally in Gopalganj, the army opened fire and killed five people. In addition, in Gaibandha and Gopalganj, Awami League supporters were killed through brutal physical torture by joint forces. In Khagrachhari, three indigenous people were killed by joint forces’ firing following a communal attack.

Furthermore, six leaders and supporters were killed in various prisons due to physical torture in police remand. In Dhaka, two garment workers, including one woman, were killed in police firing during a wage movement. In Barishal, a child was killed in Rapid Action Battalion (RAB) firing. In Bogura prison, five leaders lost their lives due to medical negligence.

JMBF’s observation showed that the highest number of incidents occurred in Dhaka Division, where 23 incidents caused 28 victims. After that, in Chattogram, 21 people were killed in 17 incidents. This means that 70% of the total incidents occurred in politically important regions like Dhaka and Chattogram, the report stated.

Apart from this, significant incidents also occurred in Rajshahi, Khulna, Sylhet, Rangpur, Barishal, and Mymensingh divisions, though fewer in number. While in Dhaka and Chattogram more people died directly at the hands of security forces, in Rajshahi custodial deaths were higher.

According to the report, besides the police, the army, joint forces, Rapid Action Battalion (RAB), Coast Guard, Navy, Air Force, intelligence agencies, and the Department of Narcotics Control were also involved in these incidents. This wide involvement indicates that the problem is not isolated accidents, but rather the result of a massive failure of accountability of state agencies, JMBF believes.

Among the causes of death, torture and subsequent deaths in prisons following torture in remand accounted for the highest number. After that, many were killed by direct shooting, JMBF mentioned in the published report.

In addition, it noted that with specific intent and purpose, leaders, activists, and supporters of the opposition political ideology Bangladesh Awami League, and inhabitants of indigenous communities in the Chittagong Hill Tracts, were deliberately killed through official negligence and medical negligence.

The deceased were not limited only to political opponents. Almost half of the deceased were affiliated with Bangladesh Awami League politics, while the rest were members of the Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP), hill-based political parties, or ordinary citizens without political affiliation. This shows that custodial deaths are not only politically targeted but also pose risks for all citizens in state custody, the report stated.

According to the report, out of 70 deaths in extrajudicial killings and custodial deaths, families of only seven victims were initially able to take legal steps. The remaining 63 families—that is, 90% of the families—could not take legal action due to fear and a repressive environment. JMBF described this situation as a “deeply entrenched culture of impunity.”

This situation perpetuates a culture of immunity in the country and further reduces people’s trust in state institutions. The report also mentioned that although the interim government admitted the need for reforms in law enforcement and the judiciary, progress is slow and no effective steps have yet been taken.

Robert Simon, a prominent French human rights activist and chief advisor of JMBF, said, “This report is not only a record of atrocities committed in Bangladesh but also a roadmap for accountability. The international community must recognize that ongoing extrajudicial killings and custodial deaths in Bangladesh are not isolated incidents—they are part of a planned attack on human rights and democracy. If urgent action is not taken now against these incidents, Bangladesh will very soon turn into a fascist state, which is extremely alarming.”

Advocate Shahanur Islam, prominent human rights lawyer and founding president of JMBF, said, “Instead of keeping promises, the Yunus administration has turned state institutions into tools of repression. Police, army, and prison authorities are carrying out human rights violations with complete impunity, while the judiciary has been compromised. An almost autocratic situation has been created in Bangladesh, and the silence of the international community is encouraging this repression.”

In its report, JMBF, through urgent recommendations, called upon the interim government to immediately stop all kinds of extrajudicial killings and custodial torture, to form an independent international investigation commission, and to bring the accused to justice under existing law.

In addition, the JMBF report called for the restoration of judicial independence, strengthening of social organizations, and appealed to the international community, such as the United Nations, European Union, International Criminal Court, and foreign governments, to identify and impose sanctions on the accused, suspend security cooperation, and consider referring the situation in Bangladesh to the International Criminal Court.