Bangladesh stands today in one of the most fragile moments of its political history, not because the country has never seen turmoil, but because the current uncertainty feels deeper, darker, and far less predictable than the cyclical unrest that used to define its past. What began months ago as factional squabbling among BNP, Jamaat-e-Islami, and the National Citizens Party (NCP) has now collided with a far more explosive development. The death sentence for former Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina, who is in exile in India, for crimes against humanity would push the country's remaining political balance into turmoil and plunge the nation into a maze of fear, protest, and uncertainty.

For weeks, political actors behaved as though they were fighting over turf in an old-fashioned rivalry. BNP insisted that the interim government, led by Nobel laureate Muhammad Yunus, betrayed earlier commitments. Jamaat demanded a referendum on the July Charter, mobilizing its traditional Islamic networks. The NCP, newer and weaker, tried to preserve its self-declared neutrality while begging for relevance. The bickering was constant, almost theatrical. 

But that was before the Hasina trial eclipsed everything. Her fall in August 2024 — after a student-led uprising that ended her 15-year rule — was momentous. Yet what followed has been nothing short of national trauma. The charges brought against her are among the gravest in Bangladesh’s history: crimes against humanity for allegedly orchestrating the 2024 crackdown that killed as many as 1,400 people, according to a UN report. On November 17, the International Crime Tribunal (ICT) of Bangladesh awarded the death penalty, calling her the “mastermind” behind the violence. Whether one agrees with that characterization or not, the consequences of the trial are unmistakable. Every faction sees the verdict not merely as a legal matter but as a political earthquake.

Transitional Justice Theory: Principles and Preconditions

The role of the International Crimes Tribunal (ICT) in Bangladesh's current crisis can be analyzed using Transitional Justice Theory. This framework examines how societies deal with a legacy of large-scale human rights abuses during a political transition. Transitional justice typically seeks to achieve accountability, reconciliation, and institutional reform, often through mechanisms like truth commissions, reparations, and, critically, prosecutions. However, the success of such mechanisms hinges on their impartiality and perceived legitimacy. 

In Bangladesh, the death sentence for former Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina for alleged crimes against humanity represents a highly politicized application of transitional justice. Instead of acting as a neutral mechanism for national healing and closure, the ICT's verdict is widely perceived as a tool of political retribution by the successor regime, or a "political earthquake" as the text describes. This politicization undermines the very purpose of transitional justice, as it deepens, rather than resolves, the zero-sum conflict. The Awami League's response denouncing the trial as a "kangaroo court" and initiating disruptive lockdowns demonstrates that the process has fueled instability and defiance, transforming a legal mechanism into a major catalyst for the current political turmoil.

Fractured Alliances, Shifting Ambitions

The Awami League, banned from political activity, has denounced the tribunal as a “kangaroo court.” Its call for a nationwide lockdown in November 2025 brought parts of the country to a halt -  schools closed, transport choked, businesses shuttered. For a party that once commanded the state machinery, this was a dramatic and desperate show of defiance. For citizens, it meant another long stretch of fear.

The BNP and Jamaat, once uneasy allies, suddenly found themselves walking on political quicksand. BNP, which had hoped to rebuild itself gradually, now faces pressure to reposition: should it distance itself from a trial many view as politically motivated, or should it lean into the narrative of accountability? Jamaat, meanwhile, senses an opening it has not enjoyed in decades. Its demand for a referendum on the July Charter is less about constitutional order and more about reclaiming lost ground. In a landscape where every party is calculating its next move, Jamaat’s assertiveness could either reset the opposition or plunge it deeper into fragmentation.

The NCP's role as a credible political force is unraveling. Its recent attempt to act as a mediator exhibits a reality of internal fragmentation and waning clout, reducing it to a mere spectator in the political arena. Throughout the past year, the party has not only failed to offer a compelling vision for the nation but has also damaged its credibility with shifting, often contradictory, political rhetoric. This decline is driven by a perceived focus on the personal agendas of its members over principled leadership.

Parties Unprepared For Elections

But while the parties bicker and reposition, the country burns. Crude bombs have exploded in several districts. Government offices and Grameen Bank branches have been set on fire. Arson has returned to the streets of Dhaka. The interim government has deployed soldiers and Border Guard Bangladesh patrols to major cities. Tanks are not rolling — but the atmosphere feels militarized. These are not isolated incidents; they are symptoms of a deeper breakdown in law and order. Economic indicators tell the same story. GDP growth has plunged to 3.97%. Inflation has crossed 8%. Mob violence and lynchings have risen at an astonishing — and horrifying — rate.

The election scheduled for February already looks like a mirage. Yunus has announced a referendum on a new national charter to be held alongside the polls, but the country feels nowhere near prepared for either. The Awami League threatens to boycott the elections if barred from competing. BNP complains that its nominees were chosen hastily and without proper consultation. Many of its female activists, long on the front lines of protests, feel sidelined. Out of 237 nominations, just about 10 went to women. Familiar faces — wives, daughters, sisters of established leaders — dominate the list. Merit has once again taken a back seat to family legacy. Democratic inclusion remains a political slogan, not a political practice.

To make matters worse, divisions within BNP itself are beginning to surface. Some leaders argue that nominating candidates early was a sign of strength; others see it as reckless and premature, especially with the country boiling. A party that hoped to project unity before the election now risks projecting confusion.

Election, Instability, or Something Worse?

The international dimension is equally unsettling. Border tensions have risen. Diplomats who had stayed quiet for months are suddenly active again. Major capitals view Bangladesh not just as a domestic crisis but as a potential regional risk. The fear is not simply instability — it is contagion.

What makes this moment especially dangerous is the eerie sense of déjà vu. Bangladesh has stood at crossroads before: 1996, when disputed elections pushed the country into chaos; 2006, when clashes opened the door for a military-backed caretaker; and 2014, when an opposition boycott led to a hollow election. Each time, the consequences were severe; each time, political leaders promised the nation had learned its lesson. Yet here we are again, watching democracy unravel in slow motion.

This time, the stakes are higher. The Hasina verdict has pushed the Awami League to the brink of political existence, and that could lead to ignite unrest on a scale unseen in decades. The rivalry between BNP and Jamaat could destabilize any attempt at opposition unity. The Awami League’s lockdowns could spiral into prolonged street battles. And the Yunus administration’s legitimacy  already under scrutiny   could crumble under sustained violence.

Bangladesh does not need more processions, more shutdowns, more ultimatums. It needs a political class willing to accept that winning power is meaningless if the country loses its peace. It needs institutions that can deliver justice without being weaponized. It needs an election that is not merely held, but believed.

Ordinary people (rickshaw pullers, garment workers, teachers, shopkeepers) have become hostages to political games they never asked to play. They pay the price in burned buses, lost wages, shuttered markets, and daily fear. Unless a moral awakening jolts the country’s leaders out of their narrow ambitions, Bangladesh risks entering a new era of political darkness — not a crisis of government, but a crisis of nationhood.

(M A Hossain, is a political and security analyst based in Dhaka, Bangladesh. Dr Vishakha jha is assistant professor, Woxsen University, Hyderabad, India. Views expressed are personal. They can be contacted at writemah71@gmail.com )