No wonder we are experiencing a history making moment that we are all going to witness in this phase of Bangladesh. Indeed, the country is approaching a political moment unlike any in its electoral history. The national election scheduled for February 2026 is set to take place without the Awami League, the party that led the war of independence, and without its iconic electoral symbol, the Boat. At the same time, another anomaly defines the moment, the open and assertive return of Jamaat-e-Islami to mainstream electoral politics, despite its historical opposition to the Liberation War of 1971.
The structure of this election deepens the anomaly further; the newly elected body will first operate as a Constituent Assembly for 180 days before transforming into the National Parliament. In effect, voters are being asked to grant two fundamentally different mandates through a single ballot. One mandate concerns constitution making, the other routine parliamentary governance.
Certainly, this dual role raises a basic constitutional concern. Constituent authority and parliamentary representation are not the same. Merging them without explicit voter consent risks blurring democratic choice. Beyond question, the confusion further intensifies with the addition of a national referendum on constitutional reforms during the same electoral cycle. Voters will be asked to approve or reject a lengthy and complex reform document with a simple Yes or No. This is not democratic consultation. It is a compression of choice.
Senior Supreme Court lawyer and constitutional expert Dr Shahdeen Malik has publicly questioned both the legality and ethics of holding such a plebiscite under an interim government. Referring to the July Charter, he argued that a referendum should address a single clearly defined issue.
Against this backdrop of procedural uncertainty, one political reality stands out with clarity. The Liberation War of 1971 remains the dominant force in Bangladesh politics.
Even without the Awami League on the ballot, the war’s symbolism saturates political discourse. What was once the exclusive ideological domain of the AL has become a shared element across parties. This shift does not reflect ideological transformation; it reflects social reality while citizens are tired of seeing odds from all previous power players.
Among all forces shaping Election 2026, none is more influential than the political use of the Liberation War. More than five decades after independence, the war remains Bangladesh’s most potent emotional currency. It is continuously reframed, contested, and strategically deployed.
Every major party now seeks ownership of the war narrative, often without historical honesty. Jamaat-e-Islami chief Dr Shafiqur Rahman, despite the party’s documented wartime role, has recently attempted to elevate figures such as Colonel Oli Ahad, with whom he is politically aligned, as central icons of independence, overstating their role during the critical phase of March 1971. This is not historical correction; it is simply an electoral tactic.
The calculation is simple that the Liberation War defines moral legitimacy and political belonging. Any party seeking national acceptance must signal loyalty to its legacy. In doing so, all roads inevitably lead back to the AL as the silent reference point.
Recognising this, both the BNP and Jamaat now publicly express respect for the war and its values. These gestures are driven less by conviction than by necessity. Without alignment with 1971, electoral viability becomes uncertain.
This dynamic exposes a deeper national dilemma. Can Bangladesh move forward politically by excluding the Awami League from electoral life, or does such exclusion undermine democratic stability?
If I am loyal to the historical course and honest in saying so, this is how the AL remains present even in absence. Organisationally inactive, it nonetheless survives through emotional allegiance and practice by other parties to grab millions of AL voters.
In this critical drama tone, very honestly, this situation reminds me of Socrates line: “I to die, you to live. Which is better, only God knows.”
The International Crisis Group addressed this question with rare bluntness. In a widely cited report, it stated that the Awami League ‘cannot be kept out of the country’s politics indefinitely’ and warned that ‘how the party is eventually reintegrated into electoral politics will be one of the most sensitive challenges facing the country’s next elected government.’
The report also noted that the 2026 election is expected to be the first credible national election in seventeen years, involving approximately 127 million registered voters. In such a context, sidelining a major political force risks instability rather than reform.
Thomas Kean, senior consultant at the International Crisis Group, sharpened this argument further in an article published on 2 February. He argued that any future role for the AL requires ‘genuine remorse for the violence unleashed on protesters during the July and August 2024 crackdown,’ a step former prime minister Sheikh Hasina has so far refused to take.
This is the central fault line of Bangladesh politics today. The AL cannot reclaim democratic legitimacy by invoking history while avoiding accountability. Its last seventeen years in power were marked by systematic repression, politicisation of state institutions, criminalisation of dissent, and erosion of electoral credibility. These are documented facts.
Yet exclusion carries its own dangers that democracies do not renew themselves by erasing political identities; they do so through accountability, reform, and inclusion within constitutional boundaries. A system that marginalises millions of voters does not produce stability. It produces resentment, grievance politics, and the risk of radicalisation.
As the election approaches, public anticipation is increasingly accompanied by deep anxiety. Citizens are not merely choosing a government; they are questioning whether the political system itself is capable of producing leadership that can govern responsibly, inclusively, and within democratic norms.
In this political theatre, BNP Chairman Tarique Rahman has alleged that members of a so-called ‘Gupto’ organisation have emerged as new oppressors. According to him, their objective is to mislead the public and maintain control over society, an accusation he directed at Jamaat-e-Islami.
However, Bangladesh cannot afford another prolonged societal fracture. When democratic channels are blocked, politics does not disappear. It mutates. Responsibility therefore lies with all actors. The AL must confront its failures honestly and undertake leadership reform and accountability if it truly means to serve the people.
At the same time, every political force must resist the temptation to replace one monopoly with another. Bangladesh does not need a new version of winner takes all politics, it needs democratic maturity.
The writer is a poet, litterateur, and political analyst
