The commentary explores Bangladesh’s fraught path to its 2026 national election, highlighting deep public mistrust, historical electoral dysfunction, and the volatile political climate following the 2024 uprising. It underscores the pivotal role of the military, the fragility of democratic institutions, and the urgent need for credible electoral processes to prevent further instability.
Highlights
- Bangladesh’s electoral history is marred by manipulation, boycotts, and military interventions.
- The 2024 uprising and fall of Sheikh Hasina’s government created a fragile opening for reform.
- Rising tensions include calls to ban the Jatiya Party, political violence, and extremist mobilisation.
- The Bangladesh Army is seen as a stabilising force, emphasising impartiality and electoral fairness.
- A flawed election risks not just democratic failure but economic and diplomatic fallout.
- Restoring public trust requires transparent institutions, disciplined narratives, and inclusive political engagement.
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Bangladesh stands once again at a pivotal crossroads. Home to over 170 million people, its history is marked by both remarkable resilience and deep political turmoil. As the 2026 national election approaches, the country faces a defining moment— whether the 2026 national election will be a path to democratic stability or yet another descent into chaos.
For many Bangladeshis, concern about the coming election is not mere political gossip. It’s existential. At stake is the restoration of faith in democracy, the credibility of national institutions, and the fragile peace in a country still recovering from years of authoritarian drift. The fear is not that there will be no election, but that the election may fail to deliver legitimacy.
A History of Broken Elections
To understand why public anxiety is so acute, one must revisit Bangladesh’s electoral history. Since independence, political power in Dhaka has often shifted not through the ballot box but through street protests or military intervention. The Ershad years in the 1980s, when the Jatiya Party briefly dominated Parliament with42.3 percent of the votes in 1986 and a stunning 68.4 percent in 1988—both in elections widely considered flawed—set the tone for popular mistrust. Even after Ershad’s fall in 1990, elections remained a matter of tactical manipulation rather than celebration of civil will.
The 1991 election brought a semblance of competitive politics. Yet successive cycles of elections have thrown up familiar patterns: boycotts, accusations of rigging, shifting alliances of convenience between the Awami League (AL), the Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP), Jamaat-e-Islami, and the Jatiya Party (JP). In 2014, when BNP boycotted, JP paradoxically sat both in government and in opposition, a surreal arrangement that signalled how far political norms had deteriorated. In 2018 and 2024, AL’s grip on power was sustained but deeply contested, leaving voters disenfranchised in practice, if not in law.
This is why the promised elections in February 2026 looms so large. After the mass uprising of 2024, the fall of Sheikh Hasina’s government, and the installation of an interim authority, there was a brief hope that a reset was possible. But hope alone cannot deliver trust. Only a credible process can.
The Immediate Triggers: Fear, Violence, and Political Engineering
The current turbulence is fuelled by a combustible mix: demands to ban the Jatiya Party (JP), violent clashes between political groups, the shocking attack on opposition leader Nurul Haque Nur, and inflammatory rumours amplified by social media.
Calls to outlaw JP are not simply vendetta. It’s driven by cold electoral arithmetic. AL, once JP’s senior partner, is now a weak and discredited force. Should it fail to contest, some of its voter base could drift to JP—an outcome, BNP and Jamaat view as a strategic threat. To pre-empt that possibility, anti-JP forces are pressing for the party’s removal from the political field altogether. This is not democratic hygiene; it is democratic sabotage disguised as ‘principled’ politics.
The BNP, for its part, has accused elements within the state of “deliberately destabilizing the electoral environment.” Analysts note that every spike in violence coincides suspiciously with key Election Commission milestones—roadmaps, technical preparations, and announcements of timelines. The impression, fair or not, is of a political class willing to burn the house down to prevent rivals from claiming it.
Add to this the unnerving emergence of radicalised groups—well-educated, urban, and deeply extremist in orientation. Prof Yunus's government is seen as a bit reluctant to address this issue and the picture becomes darker still. The question haunting ordinary Bangladeshis is blunt: will the February election be safe?
The Army’s Pivotal Role
Against this backdrop, one institution still retains the trust of the majority: the Bangladesh Army.
Historically, the army has been both a stabilizer and, at times, an arbiter of political transition. From the coup years of the 1970s to the caretaker government of 2007–2008, the military’s interventions have rarely been ideological. They have been corrective—stepping in when civilian politics collapsed under its own weight.
Today, the army’s role is different. It is not about seizing power but safeguarding it—protecting a fragile democratic transition from being hijacked by extremists, opportunists, or foreign meddlers. The Chief of Army Staff has repeatedly emphasized the need for an “inclusive, fair election”—a phrase that matters not for its diplomatic caution but for its institutional weight. When the armed forces speak of inclusivity, they are signalling neutrality; when they insist on fairness, they are implicitly acknowledging the public’s right to expect it.
Critics point to the recent incident in which both police and army personnel were seen present (but did not intervene) during an assault on a political figure, casting doubt on the neutrality of the security apparatus.. But here context matters. In volatile environments, perfect command alignment is rare. What matters is correction, not perfection. The prompt formation of an investigative committee, the public reaffirmation of impartiality by senior military leadership, and the visible restraint of the armed forces in the days that followed are all signs that the institution understands both its power and its limits.
Following the fall of Sheikh Hasina’s government, defining the Bangladesh Army’s role amid an emotionally charged political climate has become difficult. The Army Chief continues to call for an inclusive, fair election, reflecting both internal and international pressure that many avoid acknowledging after the 2024 uprising. As the head of the country’s most trusted institution, he cannot shirk responsibility. Awami League figures behind the 2024 massacre and Jamaat members tied to the 1971 genocide must be brought to justice. Yet one cannot justify denying citizens their democratic rights to vote for any party of their liking. It is time to set aside emotion, accept reality, and break the cycle of repeating the nation’s past failures.
Why the Stakes Are Higher Than Ever
Elections are not merely about counting votes. They are about providing legitimacy—turning individual preferences into collective authority. When legitimacy is weak, even victory breeds resentment; when it is strong, loss can be absorbed with dignity.
Bangladesh’s economy, already stressed by global shocks and domestic mismanagement, cannot withstand prolonged political paralysis. Investors read political risks like bond traders read debt spreads. Uncertainty drives up the cost of capital, depresses job creation, and fuels capital flight. A flawed election is not just a democratic failure; it is a macroeconomic one.
Internationally, too, the country is under a microscope. Development partners, regional rivals, and strategic allies alike are watching whether Dhaka can navigate a peaceful transition. A credible February election would signal resilience, reassure markets, and strengthen Bangladesh’s diplomatic leverage. A compromised one would invite pressure, sanctions, or worse: irrelevance.
The Path Forward
What, then, is to be done?
First, law and order must not only be maintained but seen to be fair. The optics of impartiality matter as much as its substance. The army’s visible role as a stabilizing force (security with sympathy) can calm jittery voters and deter political thuggery.
Second, the Election Commission must act as a true control tower: transparent, assertive, and technically flawless. Real-time communication, swift dispute resolution, and public-facing integrity checks are essential. Voters must see that no actor, civilian or military, can manipulate outcomes after ballots are cast.
Third, political parties must find minimal common ground: zero tolerance for violence, safe campaigning corridors, and fast adjudication of grievances. Bangladesh’s young voters, many of whom have never experienced a genuinely competitive election, must be convinced that their ballots will matter. They are the country’s most volatile variable—and potentially its greatest democratic asset.
Lastly, narrative discipline is crucial. Conspiracies thrive in silence. Clear, unified messaging from the interim government, backed by consistent military and administrative signals, can restore the most precious political currency of all: trust.
Bangladesh has always defied fatalism. It has, in the past, emerged from war, famine, coups, and floods with a stubborn vitality that astonishes those who underestimate it. The 2026 election is not doomed; not yet. But the window for preventing disaster may be closing fast.
The people are concerned because they care. They have waited too long for their vote to mean something again. It is now up to the political class, the interim administration, and yes, the armed forces, to ensure that February is not just another date on the calendar, but a democratic turning point worthy of the sacrifices that built this nation.
M A Hossain is a senior journalist and international affairs analyst. His articles are already featured in South China Morning Post, The Jakarta Post, Asian Age, The Korea Times, New Age, Modern Diplomacy, The Geopolitics, South Asia Monitor, The Daily Guardian, etc. He may be reached at: writetomahossain@gmail.com. The views expressed are his own.
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