For more than two decades, the phrase “champion of corruption” has echoed through Bangladesh’s political landscape, weaponised in speeches, rallies, and campaigns. It became one of the most enduring claims in national politics – that the BNP government had turned Bangladesh into the most corrupt nation on earth.
But two decades of data from Transparency International tell a different story, one that quietly but decisively overturns that political narrative.
When Bangladesh first appeared in the Corruption Perceptions Index (CPI) in 2001, the country ranked as the world’s most corrupt, scoring only 0.4 on a 10-point scale. The finding shocked the nation and shaped its political discourse for years to come.
Yet few cared to notice the index’s methodology: the CPI reflects perceptions from the previous year’s surveys. In other words, the 2001 index captured the state of corruption during the year 2000 – the final year of the Awami League’s 1996–2001 administration.
The data did not assess the performance of the BNP-led coalition that assumed power in October 2001, but instead mirrored the governance environment left behind by its predecessor.
That distinction, though critical, was politically inconvenient. The “champion of corruption” tag became a convenient slogan for partisan blame. Over time, it evolved into a political myth, repeated so often that it hardened into accepted history. Yet the numbers tell a different story.
Under the BNP-led government between 2001 and 2006, Bangladesh’s CPI score rose steadily from 1.2 in 2002 to 2.0 in 2006 – a more than fourfold improvement from the Awami League’s final-year figure. Transparency International itself described the progress as “modest but measurable,” suggesting that governance perception was gradually improving.
This improvement coincided with a period of institutional reform. In 2004, the BNP government replaced the government-controlled Anti-Corruption Bureau with an independent statutory body – the Anti-Corruption Commission.
For the first time, Bangladesh had a legal framework that granted the commission authority to investigate and prosecute corruption independently. The new institution struggled to assert itself in a politicised environment, but its creation signalled a step forward in strengthening public accountability.
By the end of the BNP’s tenure, corruption perception had eased. When the caretaker administration took over in 2007, it intensified the anti-graft drive, arresting dozens of high-profile politicians and bureaucrats.
That two-year campaign pushed the CPI score slightly higher to 2.1, the best result Bangladesh had ever achieved on the old scale.
The return of the Awami League to power in 2009 marked a new political era, but not a cleaner one. The government entered office with promises of transparency, digital governance, and “zero tolerance” against corruption. Yet as power became more centralised, the independence of key oversight institutions began to erode.
By 2011, the CPI score stood at 2.7 – higher than before but showing signs of stagnation. Transparency International’s commentary noted “no major institutional progress,” warning that the early gains of reform were fading under renewed political control.
In 2012, the CPI adopted a new global methodology and shifted to a 0–100 scale. Bangladesh entered the new system with a score of 26, roughly equivalent to its earlier standing.
Over the next decade, however, the score barely moved, hovering between 24 and 28. Economic growth was robust, and infrastructure boomed, but corruption perception remained unchanged. The promises of good governance gave way to tighter control over the institutions that once embodied it.
By 2024, the CPI score had fallen to 23 — Bangladesh’s lowest in thirteen years – placing the country 151st out of 180.
Transparency International attributed the decline to deep political influence over oversight bodies, weak enforcement of anti-corruption laws, and the declining autonomy of the Anti-Corruption Commission. The very institution once hailed as a symbol of reform had by then become largely ceremonial, constrained by political oversight and bureaucratic inertia.
The long-term trend is unmistakable. Bangladesh’s worst corruption record came during the final years of the Awami League’s first term in power, while its only sustained improvement occurred under the BNP government and the caretaker regime that followed.
Since the Awami League’s return in 2009, the index has stagnated and then declined, despite the government’s repeated commitment to clean governance.
The data reveal a paradox that politics has refused to acknowledge: corruption in Bangladesh has fluctuated not with party names, but with the level of institutional independence.
This does not absolve any government. Corruption in Bangladesh is a systemic condition that transcends party boundaries – a reflection of how power, once concentrated, corrodes accountability.
Each ruling party has contributed to weakening the checks designed to limit its own reach. The difference lies in outcomes: when oversight bodies were allowed autonomy, perceptions improved; when they were captured, decline followed.
The CPI, spanning twenty-three years, thus exposes the hollowness of partisan blame. It reveals how both sides of Bangladesh’s political divide have used corruption as a narrative weapon while eroding the very institutions capable of confronting it.
The myth that the BNP made Bangladesh the “champion of corruption” has persisted because it serves political convenience, not historical truth.
Two decades later, the numbers stand as a quiet rebuttal to that myth. They show that Bangladesh’s corruption problem was never partisan; it was – and remains – structural.
The lesson, buried beneath years of propaganda, is painfully simple: when institutions serve power instead of people, the perception of corruption will only deepen. And until that balance is restored, the CPI will continue to measure not the country’s progress, but its democratic decay.
