Will Bangladesh’s democracy survive after banning Sheikh Hasina’s party?

In an astonishing turn of events, the Awami League, Bangladesh’s oldest and historically most influential political party, now finds itself banned—its offices sealed, its leaders jailed or in exile, and its name removed from cyberspace. A party that once led the nation to independence now stands accused of crimes against the very country it helped liberate. Yet this is not the first time the Awami League has faced prohibition. History, it seems, has repeated itself, but this time with even more complexity and controversy.

To fully grasp the current situation, one must revisit the previous bans on the Awami League. The party was first banned by the Pakistani military junta on March 26, 1971, a day before the Liberation War began. President Yahya Khan’s address, accusing Sheikh Mujibur Rahman of treason and plotting to break Pakistan, marked the beginning of the end for the united Pakistan project. Ironically, that “banned” Awami League went on to lead the movement for independence, and within months, the geopolitical map of South Asia changed forever with the birth of Bangladesh.

However, this wasn’t the last time the party was banned. Under Sheikh Mujib himself, the Awami League was indirectly dissolved when BAKSAL (Bangladesh Krishak Sramik Awami League) was established on January 25, 1975, abolishing multi-party democracy and creating a one-party system. The AL was not mentioned as a separate entity during this period, effectively being absorbed and rendered politically non-existent until President Ziaur Rahman’s military regime restored multi-party politics in 1976.

Through all of this, the Awami League repeatedly found ways to reinvent itself. From Sheikh Hasina’s return in 1981 to the electoral victories of 1996 and 2008, the AL had risen from bans and oppression like a phoenix. But history has a tendency to twist itself, and in 2025, it seems the cycle has come full circle.

The Present Ban: Political Necessity or Authoritarian Overreach?

The decision by the Dr. Yunus-led interim government to ban the Awami League under the Anti-Terrorism Act has raised eyebrows at home and abroad. What began as a crackdown on alleged genocide and electoral manipulation morphed into a blanket ban on the party’s activities. The ban came amidst pressure from the National Citizens Party (NCP), Jamaat-e-Islami and pro-movement youth, many of whom were central in the July uprising that toppled the Hasina government.

Yet, what legitimacy does this interim government truly have to impose such a sweeping decision? Its leader, Dr. Muhammad Yunus, an internationally celebrated economist and Nobel laureate, now seems to be playing an eerily familiar role—an unelected authority deciding the fate of elected politicians and political parties. The lack of a level playing field, the absence of independent judicial oversight, and the manipulation of public sentiment through media control are increasingly visible under this caretaker regime.

By banning a party with a long electoral legacy—however flawed—the government risks delegitimizing itself. The rationale that the Awami League poses a “threat” to public safety due to past atrocities fails to justify why individual leaders couldn’t be prosecuted instead of silencing an entire party, especially one with millions of supporters and decades of political contributions.

The Double Standards of the Interim Government

The interim government's decision to ban the Awami League while lifting the ban on Jamaat-e-Islami is a glaring display of hypocrisy that strips the regime of its moral and political legitimacy. This contradictory move sends a dangerous signal: that justice in Bangladesh is not about principle, but political convenience.

The Awami League, for all its autocratic tendencies and recent failures, is still the party that led Bangladesh to independence, bore the brunt of the Liberation War, and shaped the country’s post-1971 political landscape. Jamaat-e-Islami, by contrast, actively opposed that independence and collaborated with the Pakistani military in committing genocide against its own people. To ban the Awami League while rehabilitating Jamaat is not merely controversial—it is indefensible.

If Dr. Muhammad Yunus and his interim regime claim that the Awami League deserves to be banned for past abuses, electoral manipulation, or authoritarian governance, they must also answer for their rehabilitation of Jamaat. How can a party historically tied to the mass murder, rape, and systematic repression of 1971 be allowed to re-enter politics while the party that led the fight for freedom is erased from the public sphere? This is not justice—it is selective amnesia. It is political revisionism disguised as reform.

Jamaat's re-entry is not a small administrative gesture. It signals a fundamental betrayal of Bangladesh’s founding ideals. Jamaat’s ideology remains steeped in religious authoritarianism and anti-liberation sentiment. Their historical role in enabling genocide is not a distant memory—it is a living wound. By lifting their ban, the Yunus administration has effectively legitimized the forces that once sought to destroy the Bengali identity.

Meanwhile, the claim that banning the Awami League is necessary to protect July Movement activists only underscores the interim government’s insecurity. If this regime truly represents a democratic uprising, why is it so afraid of a weakened, disbanded political party? The idea that the Awami League, stripped of its institutions and leaders, still poses an existential threat suggests that the new rulers lack confidence in their own popular mandate. It implies that the ban is not about justice—but vengeance. Not about protecting democracy—but monopolizing it.

Dr. Muhammad Yunus, once a Nobel Peace Prize laureate and global icon of microcredit and social enterprise, now risks being remembered not as a reformer, but as an enabler of authoritarianism. His alliance with Islamist factions, and his silence on their historical crimes, casts a long shadow over his moral credibility. Rather than leading a democratic transition, he appears to be engineering a political purge.

If the interim government truly seeks legitimacy and justice, it must apply the law impartially. That means prosecuting individual wrongdoers—regardless of their party affiliation—and refraining from collective punishment. It means rejecting the rehabilitation of those who betrayed the nation in 1971.

Justice must be blind, not politically convenient. Otherwise, it is not justice at all. It is power masquerading as principle.

Is the Awami League Finished?

The formal ban might suggest the party is finished, but history disagrees. Political parties are rarely obliterated by executive orders. They reconfigure, rebrand, and often come back stronger—especially those with a deep public base and a long history like the Awami League.

What the Awami League needs now is introspection, not indignation. For over a decade, it governed through a centralized, elitist, and oligarchic structure that alienated the grassroots. Corruption, suppression of dissent, and use of state machinery to ensure electoral dominance corroded its moral legitimacy. The youth abandoned the party, and the intellectual discourse was reduced to propaganda.

Its think tank, Centre for Research and Information (CRI), catered to Westernized, English-speaking elites, ignoring the cultural and linguistic needs of the people. The social media strategy was riddled with arrogance and defensiveness, rather than engagement and listening. Unless the party sheds its autocratic tendencies and reconnects with the grassroots and youth, any hope of revival will be short-lived.

A Way Forward: Can the Awami League Rebound?

The Awami League has played a crucial role in shaping Bangladesh's history, particularly in leading the country to independence. While it faces challenges in the current political landscape, its return to relevance is not only possible but necessary for the country’s future. The party’s potential for renewal lies in a deep internal transformation, one that builds on its core values of democracy and liberation while adapting to the evolving needs of the nation.

First and foremost, the Awami League must ensure its leadership is rooted in democratic principles. While the party has historically been a unifying force for the nation, the future demands that it open its doors to new voices from within the grassroots and the wider population. Leadership should no longer be concentrated in the hands of a select few; rather, it must be shaped by merit, public trust, and the rise of leaders who genuinely represent the people. This shift would be instrumental in overcoming perceptions of stagnation and creating a more inclusive, dynamic political environment.

Additionally, the Awami League must engage in a public reckoning to rebuild its trust with the people. This is not about apologizing for past achievements, but rather acknowledging the need for transparency and accountability. It’s about demonstrating a commitment to reform by taking responsibility where necessary, not out of obligation, but as a testament to the party’s commitment to democratic values. By doing so, the Awami League can forge a new relationship with the public—one based on openness, responsiveness, and genuine leadership.

The Awami League’s future strength lies in reconnecting with the heart of Bangladesh—the rural poor, the working class, and the students. A renewed ideological vision is essential, one that continues to honor the principles of the Liberation War while addressing the socio-economic challenges of today. The party must adapt its agenda to reflect the aspirations of all citizens, moving away from elitism and ensuring that the voices of everyday people are heard and acted upon.

If the ban on the Awami League is ever lifted, the party must return not as a disruptive force, but as a constructive opposition, focused on promoting dialogue, debate, and cooperation. A healthy democracy thrives on accountability, and the Awami League has a crucial role to play in holding the government to account through peaceful, democratic means.

Lastly, the Awami League must break free from the constraints of dynastic politics, ensuring that its future leadership is chosen based on merit and public support, not family ties. This would be a significant step in restoring moral authority and reestablishing the party as a force for progress and unity in Bangladesh’s political future. With this transformation, the Awami League can once again become the beacon of hope and leadership that it has always been for the people of Bangladesh.

The Awami League and the Future of Bangladeshi Democracy

Whether one supports or opposes the Awami League, its removal from the political scene through a blanket ban marks a troubling moment for democracy in Bangladesh. The outlawing of a major political party—especially one with a long electoral history and deep grassroots support—without full transparency and due process sets a dangerous precedent. Today it is the Awami League; tomorrow it could be any other party that dares to challenge authority. This kind of political engineering undermines the very foundations of pluralism and democratic competition.

The interim government, led by Dr. Muhammad Yunus and comprised of unelected elites, must recognize that democracy cannot be manufactured through executive orders, legal technicalities, or selective justice. True democracy is not about controlling outcomes—it is about protecting the people’s right to choose, even if that choice is inconvenient for those in power.

If Dr. Yunus and his administration are genuinely committed to democratic renewal, the course is clear: unban the Awami League, prosecute alleged crimes at the individual level through independent courts, and ensure conditions for free, fair, and inclusive elections. Banning an entire party because of the actions of some of its leaders is not justice—it is collective punishment, and it risks eroding the legitimacy of the interim government itself.

Bangladesh has struggled for decades to build a representative political system that reflects its complex history and diverse population. This ban does not move the country forward—it drags it backward. Democracy is not about who is right or wrong in a given political moment; it is about allowing citizens to decide for themselves. The ballot box, not the courtroom or the executive order, must remain the ultimate arbiter of political legitimacy.