Bangladesh adrift in violent transition

Bangladesh is entering one of the most uncertain phases in its recent political history. The return of Bangladesh Nationalist Party leader Tarique Rahman after nearly 17 years in exile, welcomed by massive crowds in Dhaka, was meant to signal a transition towards electoral politics after the ouster of Sheikh Hasina last year. Instead, it has coincided with renewed violence, contested authority and a sharp deterioration in relations with India. The problem confronting Bangladesh today is not simply unrest, but the absence of a credible centre of political control.

The interim administration led by Muhammad Yunus has inherited a fractured landscape. The Awami League, which dominated politics for over a decade, has been excluded from the upcoming February elections. Opposition forces are mobilised but divided, Islamist groups are increasingly visible on the streets and state institutions appear uncertain about the limits of their own authority. This has produced a vacuum in which multiple actors compete for influence, often outside formal political channels.

The killing of student and youth leader Sharif Osman Hadi has become the clearest symbol of this disorder. Hadi, a prominent figure in the 2024 uprising and a vocal critic of both the Hasina government and India, was shot in Dhaka in mid-December and later died in hospital in Singapore. His death triggered widespread protests, vandalism and attacks on media organisations, including leading newspapers. These developments are well documented. What remains unresolved is who ordered the killing and why.

The interim prime minister has described the shooting as a premeditated attack by a powerful network seeking to derail the election process. This claim reflects the gravity of the situation, but it is also an admission of uncertainty. No authoritative account has yet established responsibility. Allegations circulate across the political spectrum, implicating rival factions, remnants of the old ruling party and radical groups seeking to exploit instability. At present, these claims remain unproven.

What is clear, however, is that student politics has once again become a flashpoint for national conflict. Universities and youth organisations have long mirrored Bangladesh’s broader political struggles, but the recent escalation marks a troubling shift. Student leaders are no longer merely mobilisers, they are targets. Violence has moved beyond clashes to killings, reflecting a collapse of informal restraints that once limited escalation.

This breakdown has implications far beyond campuses. It has fed into a wider spiral of unrest that has strained Bangladesh’s internal cohesion and external relationships. The lynching of Dipu Chandra Das, a Hindu man in Mymensingh, over alleged blasphemy has intensified concerns about minority safety. The incident sparked protests in India and added a communal dimension to an already volatile situation. Bangladeshi authorities have condemned the killing and made arrests, but the episode has reinforced perceptions that law enforcement is struggling to contain mob violence.

For India, these developments have landed at a particularly sensitive moment. Relations with Dhaka have deteriorated steadily since Hasina’s removal, driven by mistrust, competing narratives and unresolved questions about her presence in India. The unrest following Hadi’s death pushed ties to a new low. Protests targeted Indian diplomatic facilities in Bangladesh, prompting New Delhi to suspend visa services at some centres on security grounds. Dhaka responded by suspending consular operations in India, a move widely interpreted as retaliatory.

Officials and analysts on both sides stress that these measures are tactical rather than strategic. Yet their impact is real. Tens of thousands of Bangladeshis rely on India for medical treatment, and visa disruptions have created a humanitarian bottleneck. This is the most tangible consequence of the diplomatic standoff for ordinary citizens, and it underscores how quickly political instability can spill across borders.

India’s concerns are rooted in more than immediate security. Bangladesh’s stability is central to India’s regional strategy, particularly in the northeast, where connectivity, trade and counter insurgency cooperation depend on a functional partnership with Dhaka. Delhi’s unease since Hasina’s fall reflects a fear of unpredictability rather than nostalgia for her rule. Anti India rhetoric, allegations of harbouring suspects and provocative symbols such as the so-called Greater Bangladesh map have heightened anxieties in New Delhi, even when such narratives are promoted by fringe actors rather than the state.

At the same time, resentment towards India within Bangladesh has deep political roots. Many Bangladeshis associate India’s long support for Hasina with democratic erosion and authoritarian excess. Her continued stay in India has become a potent symbol for critics who frame Delhi as complicit in past repression. In the current climate, invoking India serves domestic political purposes, even when it damages bilateral interests.

The interim government finds itself squeezed between these pressures. Lacking an electoral mandate, it must maintain order, reassure minorities, protect media freedom and deliver credible elections, while also managing a complex relationship with India. Its uneven response to recent violence, including the attacks on newspaper offices, has drawn criticism from civil society and observers. Whether this reflects incapacity, caution or political calculation remains an open question.

For Bangladesh’s entrenched power networks, the stakes are considerable. A successful election would restore legitimacy but could also disrupt patronage systems that thrive in ambiguity. Prolonged instability, by contrast, delays accountability and keeps authority diffuse. This creates incentives for certain actors to tolerate unrest, even if they do not directly instigate it. In such an environment, student leaders, journalists and minorities become vulnerable.

The consequences of this trajectory are already visible. Violence erodes trust, deters investment and empowers hardline groups that reject pluralism altogether. The growing tendency to brand critics as pro India, and therefore legitimate targets, is particularly corrosive. It narrows political space and deepens polarisation at a moment when restraint is most needed.

India’s response will matter. Public expressions of concern over minority safety are legitimate, but excessive pressure risks reinforcing hostile narratives. Engagement with Bangladesh’s future elected leadership, rather than attempts to shape the interim phase, offers a more sustainable path. Quiet cooperation on security and humanitarian issues, including medical visas, would help prevent further deterioration.

Bangladesh’s crisis is not irreversible. Elections scheduled for February offer a potential exit from the current impasse, but only if they are accompanied by a credible commitment to restoring law, protecting dissent and curbing political violence. The return of Tarique Rahman has demonstrated the depth of popular mobilisation, but mobilisation without institutional control can just as easily fuel disorder.

The political vacuum at Bangladesh’s centre is being filled by fear, speculation and force. Unless authority, legitimacy and accountability are re-established together, violence will continue to define the transition. The costs will not be borne by politicians alone,
but by students, minorities and neighbours alike.

The author writes on South Asian politics, governance and foreign policy.