
The spectacle of the Bangladesh Army’s July 16 use of disproportionate force in Gopalganj that killed at least five people shattered the illusion of discipline and neutrality long associated with the country’s security forces. The deaths resulted when the Army opened fire following clashes between Awami League and National Citizens Party supporters in Gopalganj.
What unfolded was not a tragic misunderstanding or isolated mishap; it was a coordinated, deliberate use of deadly force against ordinary citizens, many of whom were Awami League (AL) supporters. The Bangladesh Nationalist Party, the country’s second-largest political party, has not just a right but a responsibility to speak up against state repression.
For a military-backed interim regime, which once postured itself as the guardian of peace and order, this bloodletting represents a dangerous new phase in Bangladesh’s spiralling political crisis.
Even more disturbing is the contrast between this violence and the army’s earlier restraint. In July and August last year, the military projected itself as an impartial arbiter amid political tensions.
Over the past eleven months of this caretaker government, headed by Muhammad Yunus, the armed forces were largely seen as hovering above the fray, playing the role of an institutional stabiliser in a country long plagued by partisan polarisation. This image has now been shredded.
A sharp shift in military behaviour—marked by rising hostility towards civilians—appears to align with a murky political development: a private meeting between Muhammad Yunus and Tarique Rahman, the Bangladesh Nationalist Party’s London-based acting general secretary.
Though not officially acknowledged, the one-on-one meeting was more than symbolic. This was more a tactical realignment than ideological compromise.
The effects of this political manoeuvring are already being felt. The BNP, the leading political party now in Bangladesh after the Awami League was banned, was earlier outspoken in demanding the ouster of National Security Adviser Khalilur Rahman and two other controversial advisers affiliated with the NCP, is now noticeably quiet. The BNP directed its ire against Khalilur Rahman for his uncharitable remarks against Tarique Rahman. The removal of the two NCP leaders was sought to maintain neutrality of the government.
Even after brutal attacks on its own supporters by NCP and Jamaat cadres, the party showed no appetite for confrontation. Instead, it entered a phase of silence and passivity.
This sudden political inertia raises difficult questions. Has the BNP traded its voice for a promise of safety? Is the opposition being co-opted into the very regime it once denounced? While the full terms of the Yunus-Tarique understanding remain unclear, what is certain is that the cost of this deal may be borne not by its negotiators, but by the people left without defenders.
Despite being in the face of the violence in Gopalganj, a district synonymous with Awami League loyalty, the BNP remained muted. This is a missed opportunity to assert moral leadership and broaden its base beyond traditional supporters. Inaction during such critical moments does not read as strategic silence; it reads as complicity or cowardice.
In previous years, the BNP has paid a heavy price for political inertia. Today, that cost is being compounded. Its failure to take a firm stand against the military’s violence is likely to alienate both core supporters and fence-sitters looking for a credible opposition. Worse still, it emboldens a regime that is already dangerously unaccountable.
Another worrying development is the resurgence of the Jamaat-NCP axis, increasingly seen as a tool of state-sponsored repression. The alliance between hard-line Islamists and elite technocrats in Yunus’ government may seem paradoxical, but it reflects the current regime’s cynical calculations. Where the BNP hesitates, the Jamaat steps in as an organised force to back the Yunus-led regime.
The Jamaat, banned and reviled for its role in the 1971 genocide, has been rehabilitated not by popular support, but by the state’s own desperation for legitimacy. It now functions as a shock force for crushing dissent, particularly targeting BNP activists. This political outsourcing of violence marks a new low in Bangladesh’s ongoing democratic decay.
The events in Gopalganj could prove to be a turning point, not just for the regime, but for Bangladesh’s social fabric. The military’s decision to open fire on Awami League supporters signals a rupture between the interim government and the traditional AL stronghold.
For years, Gopalganj was considered an Awami League bastion, symbolically tied to Sheikh Mujib’s legacy. But the Army’s action, preceded by the NCP’s march to the district, has pitted the Awami League against the former.
The implications are grave. The trust that ordinary citizens had for the Army stands eroded and the credibility vacuum now extends across the entire state apparatus. This is fertile ground for chaos, conspiracy and creeping authoritarianism.
Amid this domestic turbulence, Bangladesh’s geopolitical vulnerabilities are intensifying. A July 15 meeting between National Security Adviser Khalilur Rahman and the Myanmar envoy in Dhaka was surprising especially after the so-called withdrawal of two Bangladeshi diplomats from Yangon.
With the Arakan Army in a dominant position in the Rakhine State, the flaring up of violence, especially due to renewed insurgent activities and the persecution of Rohingya Muslims, Bangladesh finds itself in a precarious position.
Any cooperation with Myanmar’s junta will be viewed with suspicion, both domestically and internationally. The meeting may be aimed at restarting stalled Rohingya repatriation talks, but it risks playing into the hands of a brutal regime that has little interest in genuine peace. Moreover, the ongoing militarisation of Bangladesh’s own politics mirrors the Myanmar model—where the army governs through fear, propaganda and puppetry.
Geopolitical players like China and India have significant stakes in the Bay of Bengal region and are likely to use the current instability to press for their strategic interests.
The United States, meanwhile, continues to issue lukewarm statements on democracy, while quietly engaging with all sides. In this multipolar web, Bangladesh risks becoming a pawn rather than a player—unless it can regain internal political coherence.
Bangladesh today stands on the edge of an abyss. The interim regime, once touted as a technocratic alternative to partisan politics, has revealed itself to be every bit as autocratic and brutal as the worst civilian regimes. The military’s actions in Gopalganj reflect a policy as well as a moral failure.
The BNP risks fading into irrelevance if it continues to dodge the call of history. Its silence is deafening, and its inaction unforgivable. In this dangerous hour, Bangladesh needs an opposition that can lead with clarity and courage. Without it, the only winners will be the men with guns, with foreign powers only too willing to shake their hands.
This article is republished from 360info under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
[360/VP]