South Asia has long been the playground of political experiments—some democratic, others far less so. The latest of these, the so-called interim government led by Muhammad Yunus in Bangladesh, is perhaps the most disheartening. Born not from constitutional order but from mob violence, foreign meddling, and opportunistic exploitation of student protests, this regime now presides over a nation adrift. What was hailed as a people’s revolution has instead produced paralysis, insecurity, and the revival of forces Bangladesh thought were buried in history’s dustbin. 

To understand the peril, one need only glance across the Himalayas to Nepal. There, youth protests erupted after the government suspended social media platforms. Demonstrations turned violent, leaving 19 people dead and public buildings in flames. Yet within days, order was restored. Protest leaders expressed remorse, cleaned the streets, and returned to schools and universities. The army intervened early to prevent institutional collapse, and former Chief Justice Sushila Karki was appointed caretaker prime minister with a clear electoral roadmap. Whatever Nepal’s flaws, it demonstrated that passion can be channeled into responsibility, and disorder into stability. 

Nepal’s approach is the right track for Bangladesh to follow: confront chaos decisively, protect sovereignty firmly, and restore order before passion metastasizes into permanent instability.

From Student Protests to Islamist Exploitation

Bangladesh tells a very different story. On August 5, 2024, Sheikh Hasina, one of South Asia’s longest-serving leaders, was ousted under the weight of massive student protests. The grievances were real—corruption, youth unemployment, authoritarian excess—but the outcome was catastrophic. The movement, lacking leadership, discipline, or long-term vision, was hijacked by opportunists and political Islamist groups. What began as a cry for reform degenerated into mob rule, extortion rackets, and lynch mobs targeting personal rivals. 

This was not Bangladesh’s first descent into chaos. In 1975, the assassination of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman opened the floodgates for military juntas that courted Islamist factions and undermined the secular foundations of the nation. The pattern is repeating today, with opportunistic regimes again exploiting political Islamist forces to consolidate power, with disastrous consequences. 

Yunus’s interim government is the newest chapter in this cycle. Far from restoring order, it has presided over the resurgence of extremist groups once crushed under Hasina’s iron hand. The economy is faltering, law and order are precarious, and promised elections remain a mirage. Interim governments are meant to be temporary stewards tasked with preparing conditions for free and fair elections. Yet more than a year after Hasina’s ouster, Bangladesh remains in political limbo. The constitution has been suspended in practice, if not in form, and Yunus shows no urgency to return power to the people. Meanwhile, political Islamist parties have been given space to regroup, destabilize, and test the boundaries of the new order. These groups must not be given a free hand, for every indulgence erodes sovereignty and emboldens extremism.

Legitimacy, Competence, and Sovereignty in Question

Worse still, this so-called technocratic government lacks both legitimacy and competence. Yunus may be a Nobel laureate, feted in Western capitals for his microfinance innovations, but running a fragile nation of 170 million is not the same as running a bank for the poor. Governance requires the discipline of statecraft, the ability to balance competing interests, and, above all, the legitimacy of a democratic mandate. Yunus possesses none of these. Instead, his regime leans on Western backers and NGO networks, reinforcing the impression that it is a foreign-imposed experiment. In the process, he has mishandled relations with India. Bangladesh cannot afford to surrender to its giant neighbor, nor can it afford to alienate it entirely. What Dhaka needs is reciprocity—ties based on equality, not subordination. Water sharing, border security, and trade must be negotiated on mutual terms. Anything less erodes sovereignty.

The comparison with Nepal could not be sharper. When unrest threatened to spiral into civil war in Kathmandu, the Nepali army acted swiftly, securing institutions and opening dialogue with protesters. A respected jurist, Sushila Karki, was installed as caretaker prime minister with a clear timeline for elections. Protest leaders, instead of entrenching themselves in power, returned to civilian life. The message was simple: passion without perspective destroys; perspective tempers passion into reform. 

Bangladesh, by contrast, allowed passion to metastasize into permanent instability. Its army, once regarded as a bulwark of sovereignty, stood passive and complicit during the 2024 collapse. Unlike Nepal’s decisive intervention, Bangladesh’s generals ceded the field to mobs and opportunists. The result is a state where neither the people nor the institutions can claim ownership of the political process.

Safeguarding Institutions and Securing the Nation

For Bangladesh to recover, its army must act decisively, just as Nepal did. It must take control of the streets, protect the regular life of citizens, and prevent extremist groups from exploiting the current vacuum. A temporary national government or other mechanisms, structured under military oversight, may be necessary to restore constitutional order and ensure elections occur without interference from Islamist opportunists or foreign actors. Bold, timely intervention is not a threat to democracy; it is the only mechanism to safeguard it when institutions are under siege. 

Skeptics may dismiss talk of a “Deep State conspiracy,” but to ignore foreign meddling is equally naïve. The choreography of events in both Nepal and Bangladesh—the weaponization of youth discontent, the sudden mobilization of NGO networks, the amplification by sympathetic global media—bears the fingerprints of external engineering. The United States has long used civil society proxies to advance strategic interests, often cloaking intervention in the language of democracy promotion. A weakened Bangladesh is not just a humanitarian crisis; it is a security threat to the entire subcontinent.

Bangladesh is not lacking in historical warnings. The partition of 1947 was born out of reckless politics and unleashed communal bloodshed. The assassination of Mujib in 1975 plunged the nation into decades of instability. Each episode carried the same moral: when legitimate grievances are hijacked by opportunists, extremists, or foreign powers, the result is regression, not reform. Yunus’s interim government seems blind to these lessons. By empowering Islamist allies, tolerating lawlessness, and postponing elections, it is sowing the seeds of another lost decade.

The path forward is difficult but unmistakable. Bangladesh must return to constitutional order with immediate preparations for free and fair elections. It must restore law and order decisively. It must also recalibrate relations with India, ensuring reciprocity rather than surrender—maintaining sovereignty while preserving cooperation. Crucially, the Bangladesh Army must intervene boldly, mirroring Nepal’s approach: securing administration, enforcing law and order, and ensuring that the political transition proceeds without obstruction. The alternative is grim. 

Muhammad Yunus may bask in the applause of Western elites, but within Bangladesh his regime is a study in failure: illegitimate, incompetent, and dangerous. Nepal, with its army’s timely intervention and youth’s surprising maturity, showed that chaos need not consume a nation. Bangladesh, under Yunus, has shown the opposite: how a nation can betray its own future when it allows passion without perspective to rule the day. If Yunus remains at the helm much longer, Bangladesh risks becoming not the next Singapore, as once dreamt, but the next Iraq—an experiment gone horribly wrong.

(The author is a political and strategic analyst based in Dhaka, Bangladesh. Views expressed are personal. He can be reached at writetomahossain@gmail.com)