The recent decision by the International Crimes Tribunal to issue arrest warrants in enforced-disappearance cases has re-ignited a bitter national argument: accountability versus institutional survival. That tension is real and unavoidable. But in the rush to score legal and political points, Bangladesh risks trading durable justice for a spectacle that could hollow out the state’s capacity to keep citizens safe — and, paradoxically, open space for the very extremists the nation fears.

Two simple facts help frame the danger. First, the tribunal has dispatched arrest warrants against some thirty people in two disappearance cases — a move that has understandably captured public attention. Second, the prosecution in those cases has been led publicly by Chief Prosecutor Md Tajul Islam, whose office filed the charges now under scrutiny. 

Those are procedural realities. What follows must be an analytical judgment about ends and means: accountability is a public good; recklessly dismantling the cohesion and public confidence of our security forces is not.

Command Responsibility, Collective Guilt

The problem is structural, not merely personal. The cases at issue stem from real, deeply troubling episodes of secret detention and disappearances in 2016 and the surrounding years. Amnesty and independent observers documented instances of long secret detention that were a national scandal; those facts merit transparent investigation and, where appropriate, prosecution. But there is a difference between targeted prosecution based on individual culpability and broad-brush indictments that treat entire lines of command or whole cohorts of officers as guilty by tenure. The latter approach risks transforming a tribunal of justice into an instrument of political retribution.

The logic applied in these arrests — according to public reporting and to arguments circulating in legal and military circles — appears to rest on an organogram theory of responsibility: anyone who held a particular post in a given period is treated as having command responsibility for crimes committed in that unit. That is a blunt instrument. Command responsibility is a legitimate doctrine in international law, but it is not a mechanical rule that can be applied without granular proof of orders given, orders disobeyed, or deliberate concealment. A prosecutor who substitutes for proof is walking on dangerously slippery ground.

Political Risks Of A Legal Spectacle

That slippage matters because of the wider political context. Bangladesh is not immune to the regional trend of rising religious and political extremism after a dramatic regime change. Credible security analyses warn that, with recent upheavals, hardline groups are reconfiguring networks and testing gaps in the state’s capacity to respond. To weaken Bangladesh's armed forces and other disciplined services — after years when the police themselves were politically targeted — is to invite those groups to exploit the vacuum. The unintended consequence of sweeping, institution-wide prosecutions could therefore be an erosion of public security that benefits the very forces of disorder the nation should be holding accountable.

It is legitimate, indeed necessary, to interrogate whether prosecutions are being pursued for the public interest or for narrower political ends. The appearance that a prosecutorial office is being used to "spoil" an electoral roadmap or to delegitimize a professional corps must be confronted with facts and answered in the light of law, not conjecture. If prosecutions are motivated by a desire to neuter the armed forces politically — an accusation many citizens and serving officers now voice — the remedy is not retaliation; it is institutional repair and impartial adjudication. But first we must demand rigorous standards of proof, transparency in evidence, and a careful delineation of individual responsibility.

Justice Demands Precision, Not Procedural Haste

A second tactical error is procedural haste. Our criminal justice system, already strained, will be judged by its ability to separate fact from faction. A tribunal that issues mass warrants on the basis of position rather than probative evidence risks losing legitimacy — and with it the moral authority to punish true wrongdoing. That outcome would be a tragedy for victims and for the rule of law alike.

What, then, is the responsible way forward? First: prioritize focused, transparent investigations that identify direct perpetrators and the chain of decision-making. Prosecutions should be narrowly tailored to individuals whose actions can be connected to orders, cover-ups, or participation in unlawful detention and torture. Broad, tenure-based blame does a disservice to victims by obscuring who did what and why. Second: respect procedural safeguards enshrined in domestic law and the Constitution — including rules that govern military discipline and the obligations around investigating serving officers. Where inter-institutional jurisdiction overlaps, a clear, law-guided coordination mechanism must be established so that the military’s internal justice processes and civilian tribunals do not negate one another. Third: maintain clarity that accountability is not synonymous with institutional dismantling. The armed forces, if found culpable at the individual level, must be reformed; but they must not be delegitimized wholesale in ways that damage national security.

Balancing Justice with National Security

Finally, the political class and civil society have a duty to resist the instrumentalization of justice. Chief prosecutors, judges, opinion-makers, and political leaders must appreciate that the erosion of a professional, disciplined armed force is not a tactical victory even for their opponents. It is a strategic loss for the nation. If the aim is to strengthen democracy and the rule of law, prosecutions should build institutions — strengthening investigations, ensuring fair trials, and protecting the rights of the accused — rather than reducing state capacity.

There are, to be sure, hard moral questions. Families of the disappeared deserve answers, and those responsible must be brought before impartial courts. But justice delivered as theater, with the stated or unstated objective of ridding the country of its professional military leadership, is an exceedingly dangerous experiment. It risks replacing one form of insecurity with another: the chaos that follows institutional collapse is fertile ground for extremist actors and criminal networks.

If Bangladesh is to be both just and secure, it must do three things at once: pursue individual accountability where evidence supports it; protect the institutional integrity of its security forces where their service is legitimate; and guard against political actors who would weaponize the law to settle scores. The path is narrow and exacting, but the alternative — a weakened state and a population less safe for it — is unacceptable.

Those who genuinely care for Bangladesh’s future should be prepared to insist on both justice and stability. They should demand prosecutions that are precise, evidence-based, and blind to partisan winds. And they should oppose any rush to weaken the uniformed guardians without first separating criminal culpability from institutional function. Only then will the nation deliver the dual promise its citizens deserve: accountability for abuses, and security for every family who calls Bangladesh home.

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