Bangladesh’s interim government recently gave its final approval to the draft of ‘July Mass Uprising Protection and Liability Determination Ordinance’ that grants indemnity to those who participated in the 2024 July Uprising that forced Sheikh Hasina to end her 15-year political rule and flee the country. The ordinance, believed to be the interim government’s fulfilment of ‘earlier commitment’ to ensure ‘legal protection’ to July participants, would take the shape of a law soon.

The ordinance provides impunity to participants from ‘activities carried out with the purpose of political resistance’ during 2024 uprising in July and August. Meaning, if criminal cases are slapped any of uprising participants for carrying out ‘political resistance during uprising’, such cases will be withdrawn by the government. Moreover, the ordinance adds that ‘no new cases will be filed’ against them, from now on, for their activities during the uprising.

The events of July-August have various connotations—uprising, revolution, political coup and political resistance. Those who participated in the uprising called it a ‘revolution’ that paved the way for ‘New Bangladesh’ or ‘Second Republic’. This group, composed mostly of student leaders who led the uprising and some later formed the National Citizen’s Party (NCP), has not only framed the uprising as ‘second liberation’ but also introduced a new political discussion where 1971 Liberation was brought back, reinterpreted and even compared with the 2024 uprising.

The 2024 ‘revolution’ has been portrayed by this group as fulfilling what 1971 could not, a liberation that gave Bangladesh its ‘true independence’. The same narrative is also echoed by another faction—the Islamists—for whom 2024 Uprising rolled the red carpet for their resurgence in the political field and now forms the main contending group against Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP) in the February 2026 national election.

Collectively, the Awami League is now branded as a ‘fascist’, a justification used by the interim government for banning Awami League’s political activities in May, closing the League’s door to participate in the February 2026 national election. 

The interim government, in its official capacity, recognised the July participants as ‘july warriors’ (July Joddha), similar to ‘war heroes’ (Mukti Joddha) of Liberation War. On the first anniversary of the uprising, the interim government unveiled the July Declaration on 5 August 2025, following pressures from Student Against Discrimination (SAD), the main force behind the July Uprising and NCP to give 2024 events a constitutional recognition.

The Declaration, declared to be given a constitutional status, was supposed to be a statement to recognise the July Uprising and its ambitions for ‘Second Republic’. Rather, it became a political fatwa against Awami League and its political past since 1971 (as interpreted by its opponents), an obituary of the 1972 Constitution that is now labelled as ‘Mujibist Constitution’, and legitimising the ‘unconstitutionally’ formed interim government. 

There is little doubt about the interim government’s biases towards leaders of the July Uprising. Indeed, it was the student leaders of SAD that invited Muhammad Yunus to come back to Bangladesh and take the role of the chief advisor of the interim government on 8 August 2024.

In return, three of the advisors in the interim government were student leaders of July Uprising. Many in the political circle believe that the interim government that helped the formation of National Citizen’s Party (NCP), a King’s Party, by intentionally delaying the announcement of an election roadmap. The neutrality became exposed when one of the advisors resigned to become the convenor of the NCP, while another resigned only recently to become the NCP’s spokesperson.

Since NCP’s establishment, the interim government displayed its soft corner for the student party, echoing the same political narrative as that of NCP, and even actively taking measures of historical revisionism to erase Awami League and Sheikh Mujibur Rahman’s legacy.

The recognition of July warriors has not been without controversy either. The gazetted list of about 1,402 warriors declared as ‘national heroes’ are promised tax benefits, welfare and rehabilitation, and now legal protection as per the 14 January ordinance. However, the gazetted lists were accused of including fake claimants, irregularities and political misuse, ironically the accusations slapped against Sheikh Hasina during the early phase of July Uprising when it was in the stage of anti-quota protest.

The ‘July warriors’ also violently clashed with police on the day of signing of the July Charter in October demanding for state recognition of martyr status, in addition to compensation and legal immunity—demands that were ultimately added as Clause 5 of the July Charter.

The latest move to this shenanigan—the July Mass Uprising Protection ordinance—justifies all kinds of acts that happened in July-August, especially violence against minorities and looting of arms from security forces, by indirectly branding these acts as ‘political resistance’. The wave of communal violence witnessed during this time, and continues even today were dismissed by the interim government as ‘political’.

Despite international reports, the interim government insists on these being ‘non-communal’ attacks. With only less than three weeks before 13^th national election, over one-third of the polling booths are also marked as ‘risky’, while about 1,3331 of the 5,763 firearms and explosive looted during July Uprising remain missing, posing an alarming risk to security during the election time.

The protection ordinance potentially shields all human rights abuses. Although the interim government clarified that only ‘political resistance’ is to be given legal protection, the tweaking of human rights abuses as ‘political reaction’ leaves little room to comprehend that all these criminal acts will also be treated as ‘political resistance’.

The shameful attempt to equate 2024 July with the 1971 Liberation War, by providing equal status, benefits, memorials, and now legal protection not only downplays Bangladesh’s painful history but also changes the whole political trajectory of the country where political violence will get state protection.

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

The interim government’s influence extends deep into the judiciary. Judges are pressured; prosecutors are politicized.

Instead of being released on bail granted by the High Court Division of the Supreme Court of Bangladesh, on 4 September 2025, Khodadad Khan Pitu (60), former President of the Naogaon District Bar Association and President of the Human Rights Lawyers’ Forum, Naogaon, was re-arrested by Naogaon Sadar police from the gate of Naogaon District Jail.

On 5 September, he was produced before the court in connection with a 2024 case filed over an incident in 2022 under the Explosive Substances Act, and the court ordered him sent to jail.

Earlier, in the early hours of 17 July 2025 (around 2:30 a.m.), police had arrested him from his residence in the Chokmoyrdi Post Office area of Naogaon town. Although his name was not initially included in the 2024 case of vandalism and arson at the local BNP office, it was later added during the investigation, and he was sent to prison after being presented in court. He subsequently obtained bail from the High Court Division of the Supreme Court of Bangladesh.

Prior to that, he had voluntarily surrendered and obtained bail in another case filed during the July movement against attacks on students and ordinary citizens.

On 2 September 2025, twelve lawyers in Barguna District surrendered before the District and Sessions Judge in a case related to vandalism and arson at a BNP office. The court denied them bail. Eight days later, the High Court granted six weeks’ bail to ten of them. Yet, moments before their release, they were re-arrested under a newly fabricated case filed under the Special Powers Act by Betagi Police Station and sent straight back to prison.

Among those re-arrested 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. Their brief taste of freedom became a cruel illusion, underscoring a chilling reality: even High Court bail cannot protect lawyers from politically engineered persecution.

These are not an isolated incidents. Rather, between August 2024 and September 2025, Justicemakers Bangladesh in France (JMBF) documented 75 incidents of imprisonment affecting 203 lawyers. Each case reveals a deliberate strategy: fabricated charges, coerced surrenders, manipulated court procedures, and prolonged pre-trial detentions.

The largest share of these imprisonments arose from attempted murder (15 incidents, 103 victims) and murder (25 incidents, 43 victims)—serious accusations crafted to discredit and intimidate. Other allegations include sabotage, vandalism, seditious conspiracy, and extortion, laws selectively revived to target politically active lawyers or those defending victims of state abuse.

The regime has weaponized the law itself, turning courts into instruments of fear rather than justice. Lawyers affiliated with the Bangladesh Awami League (BAL) have been particularly targeted, with legal compliance—surrendering or filing bail applications—used against them as evidence of guilt.

The case of Advocate Abu Sayeed Sagar, former Dhaka Bar Association president, epitomizes this tactic. During the 2023 Supreme Court Bar Association election, a minor scuffle became the pretext for charges against him. After securing six weeks of anticipatory bail, Sagar voluntarily surrendered on 5 October 2025 to renew it. Instead of a hearing, he was denied bail and jailed. Under the Yunus-led interim government, surrender no longer signifies compliance with the law—it becomes a trapdoor into imprisonment, illustrating how even lawful acts are punished.

Among the 75 documented incidents, 57 involved arrests leading directly to imprisonment. Lawyers have been detained at home, in offices, and even in courtrooms, signaling that no professional stature offers protection.

Each detention removes one voice and intimidates countless others. Bar associations hesitate to convene; young lawyers adopt silence as a survival tactic. The courtroom, once a sanctuary of justice, now functions as a stage for repression.

Behind these numbers are shattered lives. Prisoned lawyers endure overcrowded cells, denial of medical care, and restricted family visits. Many have lost their livelihoods; some have fled abroad to continue their work in exile. Families live in fear, and entire legal communities operate under siege, paralyzed by collective anxiety.

Since mid-2024, the Yunus administration, installed under the banner of “transition and reform”, has systematically dismantled civil liberties, silenced journalists, and targeted professionals aligned with the Awami League. A Nobel Peace laureate now presides over a government that governs through fear, betraying the principles for which he was once celebrated internationally.

The interim government’s influence extends deep into the judiciary. Judges are pressured; prosecutors are politicized. Bail hearings are postponed indefinitely, and lawyers are denied access to case files. This violates Bangladesh’s Constitution and Article 9 of the ICCPR, which prohibits arbitrary detention. Courts have shifted from being protectors of justice to instruments of political repression.

In today’s Bangladesh, detention is preventive, not punitive. Lawyers are imprisoned before dissent occurs, neutralizing critics and stifling independent advocacy. By incarcerating defenders of justice, the government effectively incarcerates the legal conscience of the nation.

Bangladesh is obliged to follow the UN Basic Principles on the Role of Lawyers (1990) and the ICCPR, both guaranteeing lawyers the right to perform their duties “without intimidation, hindrance, harassment, or improper interference.” The mass imprisonment of lawyers under the Yunus government is a direct violation of these commitments, making the administration complicit in systematic human-rights abuse.

The international community must act decisively. The UN and other human-rights bodies should conduct thorough fact-finding missions, while international legal associations monitor trials and document violations of due process. Governments should consider targeted measures, including visa bans and asset freezes against officials responsible for repression, and provide emergency visas or asylum for lawyers facing imminent arrest. Silence from Nobel committees, universities, or civil-society leaders can no longer be tolerated; neutrality in the face of such abuses is complicity.

The mass imprisonment of lawyers in Bangladesh represents a moral collapse of governance. By criminalizing advocacy itself, the Yunus-led interim government has weaponized justice as an instrument of fear.

Muhammad Yunus, once celebrated for empowering the powerless, now presides over a regime that suppresses those who defend them. The world must judge him not by accolades, but by the lives of those jailed for defending the law.

When 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.

This situation also reflects a collapse of the justice system. A culture of impunity has taken root, eroding public faith in the legal system.

For the first time in Bangladesh’s history, an interim government has been formed under the leadership of a Nobel Peace Prize laureate. Many hoped this government would end political unrest and repression, ushering in a new era of good governance and justice. Yet, in just ten months, this government has become synonymous with suffering and disillusionment for ordinary citizens.

On July 9, 2025, in the heart of Old Dhaka, the brutal broad-daylight murder of a businessman was not merely a homicide—it was a stark, naked revelation of state failure. This failure goes beyond the cruelty of the act or the audacity of the perpetrators. It is rooted in the government’s silence, the inaction of the administration, and, above all, the arrogance of criminals operating under political protection.

The details of the incident expose extreme brutality. The victim, Lal Chand alias Sohag, aged 39, was a scrap trader. The murder took place around 6 p.m. in front of Gate No. 3 of Mitford Hospital on Rajani Ghosh Lane—at a time when the city’s bustle had not yet paused for the evening. Approximately 19 to 20 assailants arrived on seven motorcycles and surrounded him. They beat him with bricks, stones, and concrete blocks, dragged him through the street, stomped on his body, and celebrated with barbaric delight. Bystanders, terrified, dared not intervene. The killing was filmed and quickly went viral, sparking outrage across the country.

But this was not an isolated act of violence. It was a premeditated murder over extortion. According to local sources, influential leaders of the BNP’s affiliated organizations—Jubo Dal, Chhatra Dal, and Swechchhasebak Dal—had demanded five lakh takas in extortion from the victim. Upon refusal, he was murdered. The most alarming aspect is that despite political names being linked to the incident, no visible or effective administrative action has been taken. While a few arrests have been made, the masterminds remain untouched.

This single murder reflects the severe deterioration of Bangladesh’s law and order situation. But the broader statistics are even more terrifying. According to data from the Bangladesh Police Headquarters, under the interim government led by Nobel Peace Laureate Dr. Muhammad Yunus, crime has surged at an alarming rate in just ten months (September 2024 to June 2025).

During this time, 3,554 murders were committed nationwide. There were 4,105 cases of rape and 12,726 incidents of violence against women and children. Additionally, 610 armed robberies, 1,526 cases of banditry, and 97 riots occurred. There were 819 kidnappings, five acid attacks, 2,304 burglaries, and 7,310 thefts. Disturbingly, there were also 479 recorded attacks on law enforcement agencies, underscoring the gravity of the situation and the state’s loss of control.

These figures are not just numbers—they are testimony to a historic failure of governance and a complete collapse of public safety. That such horror could unfold in such a short span does not merely indicate governmental incompetence; it suggests a troubling absence of political will.

Dr. Muhammad Yunus is a globally renowned figure. He earned the Nobel Peace Prize for empowering women through microcredit. Yet, under his leadership, this interim government has utterly failed to guarantee even the most basic level of security for its citizens.

People had hoped that this administration would eliminate irregularities, corruption, and repressive politics, and establish a peaceful political climate. The reality, however, is grim: instead of confronting crime, this government appears to have surrendered to it.

Even more alarming is how senior members of the interim government, particularly the press wing of the Chief Adviser, continue to deny the surge in crime, downplaying the justice crisis with shocking indifference.

In most cases, perpetrators are shielded from the law due to their political affiliations. Political influence over police investigations is so blatant that many cases are suppressed before any inquiry begins. Even the judiciary appears to be under invisible pressure, casting serious doubt over the possibility of justice.

This is not merely a failure of the police force—it is a reflection of a profound moral and political void within the government. The interim administration came to power promising to protect human rights and uphold the rule of law. Yet, its actions suggest it has become a guardian of special interest groups, abandoning the safety of ordinary citizens. How incompetent must a government be for a businessman to be murdered so savagely in one of the capital’s busiest areas in broad daylight?

This situation also reflects a collapse of the justice system. A culture of impunity has taken root, eroding public faith in the legal system. As hope for justice fades, people either remain silent or are tempted to take the law into their own hands. This is a dangerous trend that is pushing society toward chaos.

Citizens’ basic demands are security, justice, and accountability from the state. A government that fails to provide these cannot claim to be democratic or people-oriented.

Dr. Yunus’s interim government wanted to be seen as an ethically superior body before the next elections. But now, one must ask: How ethical is this government? A businessman was killed in the street, and the government responded with token statements instead of concrete actions.

International human rights organizations, usually vocal about Bangladesh, have gone conspicuously silent. Groups like Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International, which previously condemned rights violations in the country, have offered no reaction to this alarming deterioration—as if law and order and human rights are flourishing under Dr. Yunus’s interim government.

In reality, police forces are increasingly accused of collusion with criminals, damaging Bangladesh’s image globally. And while mainstream media remains cautious due to fear of reprisals, social media is abuzz with criticism and outrage. Yet the government has offered no substantive response. Instead, it continues labeling these incidents as “isolated,” denying the depth of the crisis—an attitude that signals something even more dangerous.

What the country urgently needs now is an independent, neutral, and accountable administration—one that serves the people, not political or financial elites. Not just in Sohag’s case, but for every murder, rape, or major crime of the past ten months, there must be impartial investigations and swift justice.

The government must move beyond press briefings and acknowledge reality. It must immediately publish a clear roadmap to combat crime, ensure access to justice, and hold institutions accountable.

Bangladesh is no longer a poor, repressed nation. Its citizens are now aware, digitally connected, and demand answers. If those in power fail to act now, the people will soon hold them accountable in the court of history.

In the end, if even a Nobel Peace Prize winner cannot bring peace to the people, then that Nobel Prize becomes a cruel irony of history. And if this interim government cannot ensure even basic security, then the legitimacy of any future election or political process it oversees will be called into question. The answer must come now—not in words, but in action.

Author: Human Rights Lawyer; Laureate of the French Government’s Marianne Initiative for Human Rights Defenders 2023; Founder President of JusticeMakers Bangladesh in France (JMBF). You can reach him by email: shahanur.islam@jmbf.org; Website: www.jmbf.org