[🇧🇩] July uprising

[Saif]

How social media became the frontline of the July Uprising

The July Movement in Bangladesh fused protest with digital defiance, using social media to bypass media silence, mobilize voices, and challenge power. It reshaped activism, highlighting social media’s role in truth, trauma, and transformation.

www.thedailystar.net

How social media became the frontline of the July Uprising

Image: LS

The July Movement did not start with a hashtag. It started with rage, grief, and a country cracking under pressure. However, it found its momentum online, mutating into a hybrid of protest and pixels, strategy and storytelling, bloodshed and bandwidth. When bullets hit the streets, stories hit the feeds. Before headlines could make sense of it, Instagram stories, Facebook lives, digital illustrations, and satirical memes did the job. And it was not the newsrooms that led this. It was a decentralised army of students, actors, presenters, illustrators, and people you would never have heard of, until they became the voice you could not ignore.

Manzur-al-Matin

A movement that could not be silenced

"Social media acted as a replacement for mainstream media," said Manzur-al-Matin, a lawyer, television host, and one of the familiar faces during the July mass uprising.

"Excluding a few newspapers, television in particular, was not showing anything. News of people dying was not coming out. There was a kind of media silencing… So, people became dependent on social media. It played a role both in mobilising and informing."

Matin recalled receiving tactical instructions via social media — how to treat tear gas wounds, how to regroup when scattered — "a tool for mass mobilisation," he called it. What made this different was that it did not rely on polished journalism. It relied on urgency, on participation, on people stepping up, logging in, and refusing to scroll past injustice.

Dipti Chowdhury, a TV presenter, also found herself at the centre of this shift. Her televised words, spoken during an internet shutdown, managed to go viral. She became, unwillingly, a symbol.

"That interview wasn't about me," she said. "It was everyone's experience of being silenced. People saw their own frustrations in my words.

"It's very difficult to control social media in a place where every person is like a TV channel. Even when the internet was shut down, VPNs kept the movement alive. People trusted social media more than conventional news."

Matin echoed the same. "We didn't speak up to go viral. We spoke up because staying silent felt like complicity. I tried to speak on TV. But after the 20th or 21st, that door closed. So, we took to the streets."

Dipti Chowdhury

Praise, backlash, and the algorithm

Praise came. Then the backlash. Then came the algorithmic silence.

"We saw how some who praised us started abusing us later," Matin added. "But we still spoke up, even when it was no longer popular. Because conscience doesn't follow trends."

Chowdhury experienced this backlash not as a political figure, but as a woman.

"My family's legacy of freedom fighters was questioned. Memes were made about me. My gender became ammunition," she said. "We united in July. But afterwards, we returned to what we know best – isolating people."

Both Chowdhury and Matin agreed: the hardest part was not speaking up during chaos. It was standing firm in the silence that followed.

The mob in the mirror

What came next was even messier: everyone claiming activism. Everyone claiming to speak for "the people." But at what point does advocacy turn into mob rule?

"Most people don't understand what activism truly is," Chowdhury said bluntly. "They're provoking, dividing, claiming moral authority without responsibility. We've confused activism with chaos."

Matin was more philosophical. "Hate spreads faster online. The algorithm rewards outrage. But what we see on social media does not always reflect who we are as a people."

And yet, both admit that digital spaces can no longer be dismissed as fluff. "Social media isn't just entertainment," Chowdhury emphasised. "It's political, it's economic, and it's dangerous when left unchecked."

Trauma, memory, and scrolling past grief

The digital aftermath is murky. The self-censorship that once ruled the internet is now replaced by a chaotic flood of unfiltered rage. But is that freedom – or another kind of trap?

Matin believes self-censorship still exists. "Just in different forms. Those who were once in power used to speak freely. Now, they censor themselves. And those who feel safe now speak recklessly. Social media gives voice to both truth and narcissism," he explains.

Chowdhury agreed but added nuance. "Yes, people post more freely now. But many also post for profit. Likes mean money. Satirical videos have become a business. So, where's the integrity?"

Perhaps, the deepest thread running through both voices is that of mental health. The digital battlefield leaves no one untouched.

"People witnessed real trauma," Matin said. "Violence, death, loss. But did they process it? No. They escaped to social media – only to be retraumatised."

He warns that "reels reduce thinking. Fake happiness makes us feel worse." Negativity spreads faster than truth. If we don't become aware of how these platforms shape us, we'll lose more than we realise.

The fight is not over

July did not end in July. Its aftershocks continue – online and offline. It was a movement not just of protests, but of digital defiance. It exposed both the power and the peril of social media in Bangladesh.

"Every phone became a newsroom," Chowdhury said. "Every person became a media outlet."

And in that chaos, some truths became undeniable: that storytelling is resistance. That silence can be louder than screams. And that even when the cameras are off, the algorithm keeps recording.

So, what's left now?

Maybe it's what Chowdhury suggests: "Social media should no longer be treated as a toy. It's a weapon, a tool, and a responsibility."

Or maybe it's what Matin reminds us: "Praise fades. Backlash fades. What remains is your own conscience. So, speak when you must. But also listen. And never confuse noise with clarity."

Chowdhury elaborates — "I was afraid. I didn't stay at home for days. I received threats saying if a certain party came to power, I'd be raped in the street or killed on sight. But I also received so much love. At one point, I thought — even if I'm jailed or killed, this much love is enough for a life."

As the dust settles, one thing remains clear: social media is no longer just a passive medium in Bangladesh. It is a force that can amplify movements, challenge silences, and reshape public consciousness. How this force is wielded in the future will continue to define the contours of resistance, representation, and responsibility in the digital age.

Photo: Collected​

 

[Saif]

11 July was first resistance day of 2024 mass uprising: Asif Mahmud

LGRD Adviser Asif Mahmud Shojib Bhuyain on Friday said 11 July was the first resistance day of the 2024 mass uprising.

en.prothomalo.com

11 July was first resistance day of 2024 mass uprising: Asif Mahmud
BSS Cumilla
Published: 11 Jul 2025, 21: 17

LGRD Adviser Asif Mahmud Shojib Bhuyain addresses a memorial at Cumilla University on 11 July 2025. BSS

LGRD Adviser Asif Mahmud Shojib Bhuyain on Friday said 11 July was the first resistance day of the 2024 mass uprising.

“The first blood of the 2024 mass uprising was shed at Cumilla University on 11 July, when police of then fascist regime launched a brutal and unprovoked attack on the students of the university. The students after that organized a fierce resistance and blockaded the Dhaka-Chattogram highway until 11 pm that night. It played a significant role in fuelling the nationwide movement that followed,” he said.

Asif declared the day as the First Day of Resistance of the 2024 mass uprising. He made the announcement this afternoon while addressing a memorial meeting organized at Cumilla University marking the anniversary of the police attack last year.

He further said that, like in July, he hopes the students of Cumilla University will always stand for truth and justice. In response to the students' demands, he also announced the donation of three buses for the university.

The event was presided over by university’s Vice-Chancellor Professor Haidar Ali, while Pro-Vice Chancellor Professor Masuda Kamal attended it as a special guest. Other guests included Treasurer Professor Mohammad Solaiman, Proctor Professor Abdul Hakim, Cumilla Deputy Commissioner Amirul Kaisar, and Superintendent of Police Najir Ahmed Khan.

During the 2024 mass uprising, the first police assault on protesters during the “Bangla Blockade” programme took place at Cumilla University on July 11. Around 20 students were injured as police opened fire, lobbed tear gas shells, and carried out baton charges on the demonstrators, he added.

News of the police attack spread rapidly, igniting anger among the students. The incident triggered a wave of protests across the country, including in Dhaka, where demonstrators condemned the police brutality.

In response, general students from all residential halls of Cumilla University took to the streets and blockaded the Dhaka–Chattogram Highway. The students effectively brought the highway to a standstill for nearly eight hours, in a significant display of resistance.​

 

[Saif]

July massacre and the BBC documentary

Hasina’s loyalists practically worshipped her for worldly gains. Some called her Jewel of the Nation, others called her daughter of democracy, mother of humanity

en.prothomalo.com

July massacre and the BBC documentary

Mohiuddin Ahmad
Published: 11 Jul 2025, 18: 19

Party goons and the law enforcement cracked down most brutally and cruelly to suppress the movement File Photo

Sheikh Hasina is the daughter of Bangladesh’s founding president Sheikh Mujib. Mujib ruled the country for three and a half years. The legacy of authoritarian governance in this country began with him. When his popularity fell to the nadir, he was killed by the military. Hasina ruled for twenty and a half years. In many respects, she followed in her father's footsteps. In others, she surpassed him. She took authoritarian rule to its peak. Eventually, she too fell. She fled for her life. And in doing so, she symbolically killed her father a second time. This will remain as a lasting example.

Hasina’s loyalists practically worshipped her for worldly gains. Some called her "Desh Ratna" (Jewel of the Nation), others called "the daughter of democracy". Some dubbed her "the daughter of language", others hailed her as "the mother of humanity". She patronised certain intellectuals and assigned them to rewrite the narrative of independence. Several political parties, large and small, staged movements against Hasina’s government. Her followers harassed many of them, beating, jailing, disappearing and even killing some.

The students had wanted quotas reformed, brought to a reasonable level. Hasina, in a piece of political showmanship, scrapped the entire system.
It would have been wise to stop there, yet Hasina’s mind was always teeming with evil ploys

It has seemed unimaginable at the time that Hasina would not remain prime minister during her lifetime or that Khaleda Zia would ever live a free life again. But that is exactly what happened on 5 August 2024.
During Hasina’s time, political parties did stage movements, but for various reasons they failed to draw the public in.

Those protests were basically cadre driven. People had lost interest in, and grown weary of, conventional, old style politics. Even so, we witnessed a few movements in which ordinary citizens did join wholeheartedly. None of these were aimed at toppling the government, nor were they carried out under any party banner, although they enjoyed the sympathy and support of many parties and saw large numbers of their activists take part.

The 'Safe Roads' movement is a good example. It reflected the aspirations of everyday citizens. In its final phase, the government’s thugs descended on the protesters, the “helmeted” men whose photos and footage we all saw in the news.

Then came the quota reform movement, which came in three phases. The first two stirred general students but stalled before they could go far, each time tripping up when the government-backed student front Bangladesh Chhatra League (BCL) swooped down on the campus. Hasina’s model for crushing protests went like this: students demonstrate, BCL cadres attack, beating them and driving them off campus. If that fails, money, intelligence operatives, and pet journalists spread disinformation to sow divisions, and in time the movement fizzles out. But in the third phase that formula did not work.

Ironically, the movement ignited because of the government’s over manipulation. After the second phase, it issued a circular abolishing all quotas in public recruitment, something the students had not asked for. The students had wanted quotas reformed, brought to a reasonable level. Hasina, in a piece of political showmanship, scrapped the entire system.

It would have been wise to stop there, yet Hasina’s mind was always teeming with evil ploys.

She kept the opposition perpetually on the run, manufacturing issues where none existed and pouncing on them. Her language was intemperate, crude and insolent, and she lacked the finesse, learning, or interest to grasp the consequences. No one dared advise her. She hand picked flatterers as “advisers”, glorified servants of her whims.

A writ was then filed in court to restore the quotas. This was an old ploy. Hasina sought to play her dirty game using the judiciary, just as she had earlier got the caretaker government clause of the constitution struck down to fulfill her own designs. She knew that once that clause was gone, she could stay in power indefinitely, and there was no shortage of servile judges. This time, though, the plan misfired. Students and job seekers erupted in fury. Under the banner of the "Anti Discrimination Student Movement", the protest spread nationwide.

The regime returned to its standard tactics. First the hired helmet goons beat up the students, drove them from the halls, and launched armed attacks in the streets.

The BBC documentary is very professional. The footage of police savagery in Jatrabari is hair raising. With similar investigation the attacks in Badda, Mohammadpur, Uttara and elsewhere could be documented just as vividly, and that is only Dhaka. There were many such assaults across the country.

For the first time students from public and private universities, madrasas, and even schools and colleges stood shoulder to shoulder. The movement spilled beyond campuses. Police, RAB and BGB were then deployed. Helmeted thugs assaulted protesters while the security forces stood by shielding the attackers until the forces themselves declared war on the demonstrators. But nothing worked. As public participation swelled it turned into a full blown mass uprising and the Hasina government fell.

Hasina felt no sense of duty either to country or to party. Within the party she had created a league of her relatives, comprising solely family and close kin. After spiriting them to safety, she finally bolted. Never in the nation’s history has there been such a selfish and dishonourable exit.

The brutality unleashed by ruling party goons and the security forces surpassed every limit. Because of sundry restrictions much of it never reached the mainstream media. People had to rely on social platforms, on which Hasina also cracked down. By shutting down telecommunication and the internet, she turned the country into a giant prison.

Even a curfew could not stem the tide of furious students and citizens in the streets. It was the state’s most savage war on unarmed people, reminiscent of 1971. A recent BBC documentary on the July 2024 movement reveals some of that savagery, especially the police atrocities in Jatrabari. Leaked call records show that Hasina herself ordered police to use lethal weapons. Such barbarity is unthinkable without a top level political order, and that leak now stands as documentary proof.

Meanwhile, some of Hasina’s relatives and cronies hiding at home and abroad, are claiming that it was all fabricated with AI, that the BBC is a British imperialist tool, that the entire movement was an American conspiracy. Her gifted son has “identified” the leaked voice as a 2016 phone call. Hasina’s slaves are busy spreading the story.

One is reminded of the uproar over “mid night voting” in the 2018 election: certain sycophant journalists insisted it was a lie, insisting “Do you have any proof, any photo, any video?” Yet the recently arrested former Chief Election Commissioner Nurul Huda has now admitted in court that the voting was indeed done at night.

The BBC documentary is very professional. The footage of police savagery in Jatrabari is hair raising. With similar investigation the attacks in Badda, Mohammadpur, Uttara and elsewhere could be documented just as vividly, and that is only Dhaka. There were many such assaults across the country. At Jahangirnagar and Rajshahi universities ruling party thugs turned campuses into hell. Many people everywhere recorded these scenes; everyone now carries a phone. Nothing can stay hidden for long.

* Mohiuddin Ahmad is a writer and researcher.​

 

[Saif]

Our dreams are NOT for sale!

Supreme Court Advocate Manzur-al-Matin writes

www.thedailystar.net

Our dreams are NOT for sale!
July uprising 2024

Thousands of people celebrate the ouster of former Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina in the streets of Dhaka on August 5, 2024. FILE PHOTO: STAR

July has returned! The depth of gratitude I feel for having survived the previous monsoon is difficult, if not impossible, to express in words. I, along with my wife Sara and so many of our friends who found ourselves united in protest in July 2024, could have easily lost our lives during those fateful days. But we were lucky to have witnessed the fall of the autocrat, the victory of the downtrodden.

Not everyone was that lucky. The men, women, boys and girls whose bodies were riddled with bullets, who were hacked to their deaths, have left a vacuum that can never be filled. The emptiness left behind by Farhan, Snigdho or Saikat is unbearable for their families and will forever remain so.

These brave souls sacrificed everything believing that lasting change is possible—a belief shared by everyone who answered the call of their conscience during the July uprising. I guess challenging times bring out the best in us. Faced with a foe like Sheikh Hasina, solidarity came naturally. But when we managed to put that behind us, things became much more complicated.

Some of the students whose participation and leadership in the July movement made this extraordinary feat possible have now formed their own political party—the National Citizen Party (NCP). Although rifts between its leadership at times become apparent, the latest programme of the party has received a lot of attention. Starting on July 1 this year, the NCP leadership has started a tour of the country, reaching out to the very people whose spontaneous participation in the protests last year created history. In my view, leaving the centre and reaching out to the periphery was a long-owed debt. Without lending an ear to the marginalised, the NCP can never find out what the true nature of their politics should be. The fact that, despite being late, they have taken the initiative gives me hope.

There are factions of the students who are far less organised but crave to have their voices heard. These are the students of universities, both public and private, and the students of schools and colleges. As their dreams fade, they still hold on to the hope that someday they will be given the opportunity to be heard. This is not only the responsibility of the government or the National Consensus Commission, but also of the political parties. The BNP, as the major political force, has arranged a few gatherings for the youth, which is praiseworthy. But instead of sticking to the capital, they need to reach out to the outskirts. In my travels to the remote parts of our beautiful country, I sense a feeling of being forgotten among people there. All the political forces debating the future of our country need to pause for a while and take time to listen carefully to what these voices have to say.

The women who left their homes and workplaces during the monsoon revolution were key to its success. Almost all the women who were at the forefront, braving all odds during the uprising, have faced bullying both online and offline in the aftermath. It is unfortunate that these people often feel left out nowadays. Any reform without their participation is bound to be unsustainable.

Finally, there are people who have placed personal gain over their responsibility to the nation. While we dream about finding a new settlement, with the weight of the sacrifices made by the martyrs upon our shoulders, some of us think it profitable to sell out the revolution itself for meagre personal gains.

The July uprising in Bangladesh is admired by struggling people around the globe. Bangladesh has become a beacon of hope for many of them. Bangladesh has proven that even the mightiest oppressor, with all the state apparatus at her command, is bound to be defeated when the people can break the shackles of fear.

On the other hand, Bangladesh can learn a lot from Sri Lanka, a country which has gone through almost a similar set of events. Lessons must be learnt from the way the liberal and democratic forces there have remained united and secured an impactful political position after the uprising—how they have put their female leadership at the forefront, instead of marginalising them.

Sheikh Hasina failed to realise that the freedom, dignity and aspiration of the people can never be sold. This failure led her, along with the rank and file of the Awami League, to a disgraceful flight on August 5, 2024. Let this be a lesson for those who are treading the same path. I am certain it will not take another 15 years for the people to rise again. Because they know from recent memory that their dreams are NOT for sale. They know how and when to stand up for their freedom, dignity and dreams.

Manzur-al-Matin is an advocate of the Supreme Court and a freelance anchor at Channel 24.​

 

[Saif]

Trial over July mass killings to end under current govt: Asif Nazrul

Law Adviser Asif Nazrul on Monday said the trial of the July mass killings is moving forward at a good pace and is expected to conclude under the current government. “I want to assure you that the trial is moving ahead in full swing. There will be no negligence and we firmly believe that jus

thefinancialexpress.com.bd

Trial over July mass killings to end under current govt: Asif Nazrul

Published :
Jul 14, 2025 20:58
Updated :
Jul 14, 2025 20:58

Law Adviser Asif Nazrul on Monday said the trial of the July mass killings is moving forward at a good pace and is expected to conclude under the current government.

“I want to assure you that the trial is moving ahead in full swing. There will be no negligence and we firmly believe that justice will be served under this government,” he said, UNB reports.

The adviser came up with the remarks while addressing a programme after inaugurating the ‘July Martyrs Monument’ built in remembrance of those killed during the July mass uprising in Narayanganj.

“Cases have been filed in criminal courts and many of the investigations have made significant progress. We are hopeful that chargesheets will be submitted before August 5. Once submitted, the trials of the accused can be conducted under the Speedy Trial Act, if necessary,” he said.

Highlighting the significance of the July movement, Asif said, “This uprising brought down 15 and a half years of fascist rule in Bangladesh. The tyrannical regime was uprooted.”

Recalling the Narayanganj incident, the adviser said 56 people were killed and over 350 injured in Narayanganj alone. “We remember the immense sacrifice made by the people of Narayanganj.”

Referring to recent incidents, Asif said, “The law-and-order situation has deteriorated in some areas. Heinous killings and extortion are taking place. But just as you defeated fascist forces through unity in July, that same unity is needed to resist local extortionists. The administration will stand by you.”

Earlier, in the day, the first ‘July Martyrs Monument’ implemented by the Ministry of Housing and Public Works, was inaugurated in the Hajiganj area of Narayanganj city.​

 

[Saif]

July massacre and the BBC documentary

Hasina’s loyalists practically worshipped her for worldly gains. Some called her Jewel of the Nation, others called her daughter of democracy, mother of humanity

en.prothomalo.com

July massacre and the BBC documentary
Mohiuddin Ahmad
Published: 11 Jul 2025, 18: 19

Party goons and the law enforcement cracked down most brutally and cruelly to suppress the movement File Photo

Sheikh Hasina is the daughter of Bangladesh’s founding president Sheikh Mujib. Mujib ruled the country for three and a half years. The legacy of authoritarian governance in this country began with him. When his popularity fell to the nadir, he was killed by the military. Hasina ruled for twenty and a half years. In many respects, she followed in her father's footsteps. In others, she surpassed him. She took authoritarian rule to its peak. Eventually, she too fell. She fled for her life. And in doing so, she symbolically killed her father a second time. This will remain as a lasting example.

Hasina’s loyalists practically worshipped her for worldly gains. Some called her "Desh Ratna" (Jewel of the Nation), others called "the daughter of democracy". Some dubbed her "the daughter of language", others hailed her as "the mother of humanity". She patronised certain intellectuals and assigned them to rewrite the narrative of independence. Several political parties, large and small, staged movements against Hasina’s government. Her followers harassed many of them, beating, jailing, disappearing and even killing some.

The students had wanted quotas reformed, brought to a reasonable level. Hasina, in a piece of political showmanship, scrapped the entire system.
It would have been wise to stop there, yet Hasina’s mind was always teeming with evil ploys

It has seemed unimaginable at the time that Hasina would not remain prime minister during her lifetime or that Khaleda Zia would ever live a free life again. But that is exactly what happened on 5 August 2024.

During Hasina’s time, political parties did stage movements, but for various reasons they failed to draw the public in.

Those protests were basically cadre driven. People had lost interest in, and grown weary of, conventional, old style politics. Even so, we witnessed a few movements in which ordinary citizens did join wholeheartedly. None of these were aimed at toppling the government, nor were they carried out under any party banner, although they enjoyed the sympathy and support of many parties and saw large numbers of their activists take part.

The 'Safe Roads' movement is a good example. It reflected the aspirations of everyday citizens. In its final phase, the government’s thugs descended on the protesters, the “helmeted” men whose photos and footage we all saw in the news.

Then came the quota reform movement, which came in three phases. The first two stirred general students but stalled before they could go far, each time tripping up when the government-backed student front Bangladesh Chhatra League (BCL) swooped down on the campus. Hasina’s model for crushing protests went like this: students demonstrate, BCL cadres attack, beating them and driving them off campus. If that fails, money, intelligence operatives, and pet journalists spread disinformation to sow divisions, and in time the movement fizzles out. But in the third phase that formula did not work.

Ironically, the movement ignited because of the government’s over manipulation. After the second phase, it issued a circular abolishing all quotas in public recruitment, something the students had not asked for. The students had wanted quotas reformed, brought to a reasonable level. Hasina, in a piece of political showmanship, scrapped the entire system.

It would have been wise to stop there, yet Hasina’s mind was always teeming with evil ploys.

She kept the opposition perpetually on the run, manufacturing issues where none existed and pouncing on them. Her language was intemperate, crude and insolent, and she lacked the finesse, learning, or interest to grasp the consequences. No one dared advise her. She hand picked flatterers as “advisers”, glorified servants of her whims.

A writ was then filed in court to restore the quotas. This was an old ploy. Hasina sought to play her dirty game using the judiciary, just as she had earlier got the caretaker government clause of the constitution struck down to fulfill her own designs. She knew that once that clause was gone, she could stay in power indefinitely, and there was no shortage of servile judges. This time, though, the plan misfired. Students and job seekers erupted in fury. Under the banner of the "Anti Discrimination Student Movement", the protest spread nationwide.

The regime returned to its standard tactics. First the hired helmet goons beat up the students, drove them from the halls, and launched armed attacks in the streets.

The BBC documentary is very professional. The footage of police savagery in Jatrabari is hair raising. With similar investigation the attacks in Badda, Mohammadpur, Uttara and elsewhere could be documented just as vividly, and that is only Dhaka. There were many such assaults across the country.
For the first time students from public and private universities, madrasas, and even schools and colleges stood shoulder to shoulder. The movement spilled beyond campuses. Police, RAB and BGB were then deployed. Helmeted thugs assaulted protesters while the security forces stood by shielding the attackers until the forces themselves declared war on the demonstrators. But nothing worked. As public participation swelled it turned into a full blown mass uprising and the Hasina government fell.

Hasina felt no sense of duty either to country or to party. Within the party she had created a league of her relatives, comprising solely family and close kin. After spiriting them to safety, she finally bolted. Never in the nation’s history has there been such a selfish and dishonourable exit.

The brutality unleashed by ruling party goons and the security forces surpassed every limit. Because of sundry restrictions much of it never reached the mainstream media. People had to rely on social platforms, on which Hasina also cracked down. By shutting down telecommunication and the internet, she turned the country into a giant prison.

Even a curfew could not stem the tide of furious students and citizens in the streets. It was the state’s most savage war on unarmed people, reminiscent of 1971. A recent BBC documentary on the July 2024 movement reveals some of that savagery, especially the police atrocities in Jatrabari. Leaked call records show that Hasina herself ordered police to use lethal weapons. Such barbarity is unthinkable without a top level political order, and that leak now stands as documentary proof.

Meanwhile, some of Hasina’s relatives and cronies hiding at home and abroad, are claiming that it was all fabricated with AI, that the BBC is a British imperialist tool, that the entire movement was an American conspiracy. Her gifted son has “identified” the leaked voice as a 2016 phone call. Hasina’s slaves are busy spreading the story.

One is reminded of the uproar over “mid night voting” in the 2018 election: certain sycophant journalists insisted it was a lie, insisting “Do you have any proof, any photo, any video?” Yet the recently arrested former Chief Election Commissioner Nurul Huda has now admitted in court that the voting was indeed done at night.

The BBC documentary is very professional. The footage of police savagery in Jatrabari is hair raising. With similar investigation the attacks in Badda, Mohammadpur, Uttara and elsewhere could be documented just as vividly, and that is only Dhaka. There were many such assaults across the country. At Jahangirnagar and Rajshahi universities ruling party thugs turned campuses into hell. Many people everywhere recorded these scenes; everyone now carries a phone. Nothing can stay hidden for long.

* Mohiuddin Ahmad is a writer and researcher.​

 

[Saif]

Investigation-2, July Mass Uprising
Five on-duty journalists were martyred during July uprising
Asif Howladar Dhaka
Updated: 15 Jul 2025, 22: 02

Journalist Md Mehedi Hasan lived with his wife and two daughters in a one-room rented house in Keraniganj, Dhaka. Every night, his wife and daughters would wait for him to return home. On 18 July last year, too, they were waiting. But earlier that evening, Mehedi was shot in the chest by police rubber bullets in Dhaka’s Jatrabari area. He was taken to Dhaka Medical College Hospital, where he was declared dead.

Mehedi worked as a reporter for the online news outlet Dhaka Times 24.com. On that day, he had gone to Jatrabari to cover news.

During the July mass uprising, five journalists, including Mehedi, were martyred while carrying out professional duties. Three were killed in Dhaka, one in Sylhet, and another in Habiganj. Among them, Mehedi Hasan was killed in Jatrabari, Shakil Hossain in Uttara, and Tahir Zaman in Dhanmondi. In Sylhet, journalist Abu Taher Md Turab was martyred while reporting, and in Baniachong of Habiganj, Sohel Akhanji was killed.

According to the official government gazette, a total of 844 people were martyred across the country during the July uprising. The names of the five martyred journalists are included in that list.

"The shelter above our heads is gone now"

Among three brothers, 40-year-old Mehedi Hasan was the eldest. He used to bear his younger brothers' educational and family expenses. Living in a one-room house in Keraniganj was difficult for his family. They had planned to move into a two-room house in August 2024—but that never happened.

Mehedi was from Bauphal in Patuakhali. His wife Farhana Islam still lives in Keraniganj with their two daughters. When Mehedi was martyred, the elder daughter was three and a half years old, and the younger one just seven months.

Farhana, devastated by her husband’s death, said that shelter over our heads is gone now.

Speaking to Prothom Alo on 10 July, she said she has received Tk 1 million in aid from the government but expressed dissatisfaction with the progress of justice.

“I filed two cases—one in court and one at the police station. But there’s been no progress. The way my husband was killed, it shouldn’t have been hard to find the killer.”

Shakil’s father shattered
On the same day Mehedi was martyred, journalist Shakil Hossain was shot in the chest in front of Azampur Police Station in Uttara while performing his professional duty. He too was declared dead at the hospital.

Shakil, 23, was a BBA student at Manarat International University.

Alongside his studies, he worked as a Gacha thana correspondent for Dainik Bhorer Awaj. He lived with his family in a rented house in the Hossain Market area of Tongi.

His family is originally from Sadar upazila in Lakshmipur. His father Md. Belayet Hossain, is a businessman. Shakil was the youngest among one brother and three sisters.

Shakil’s father, Belayet Hossain, has filed a case with the International Crimes Tribunal. Broken by the loss of his only son, he said, “The government and some organisations helped us financially, but we will never get our son back!”

Tahir’s mother lives with sorrow
On 19 July, 27-year-old freelance photojournalist Tahir Zaman (Priyo) was working on assignment in Dhaka’s Green Road area in Dhanmondi. A police bullet struck him in the head.

At the time, police were continuously firing to disperse protesters in the area. Due to the intense gunfire, no one could come forward to rescue him. His body was later found at Dhaka Medical College morgue that night.

Tahir’s family hails from Rangpur. His five-year-old daughter, Sabira Zaman, now lives in Dhaka with her grandmother and mother.

The family has filed cases with New Market Police Station and the International Crimes Tribunal. His mother, Shamsi Ara Zaman, told Prothom Alo, “We martyr families are not satisfied with the way the trial is proceeding. Nowhere else in the world have the so-called protectors of a country shed this much blood! Justice should have come much faster. We had hoped to see significant progress within a year.”

She added, “No one can fill the void of a lost child. The dreams my son carried—this pain will remain for life. Every time I see media or a camera or someone succeeding, I feel that my Priyo could have reached that place. I will carry that regret for the rest of my life.”

Turab killed two months after his wedding
On 19 July, after Juma prayers, local BNP leaders and activists brought out a protest rally in support of the uprising at Court Point in Sylhet city. Abu Taher Md Turab, bureau chief of Dainik Naya Diganta in Sylhet, was covering the event. Police opened fire at the rally. Turab was shot and later died at the hospital that evening.

Initially, the police only filed a general diary (GD) when the family tried to lodge a case. The family formally filed a case on 19 August after the fall of the Awami League government.

Turab, 34, was the youngest among three brothers and one sister. He had recently married Tania Islam, a UK resident, on 12 May the same year—just two months and six days before his death.

His elder brother, Jabur Ahmed, told Prothom Alo, “Turab’s body was riddled with police bullets. His death has devastated our entire family. Our mother is around 70 years old. She wishes to see justice for Turab in her lifetime.”

Sohel’s death leaves family devastated
On 5 August, hundreds of students gathered at LR Government High School in Baniachong upazila of Habiganj. They brought out a protest rally that passed by Borobazar and headed toward the police station. Local Awami League activists tried to block them in the Eidgah area. Eventually, the protesters came under attack and gunfire.

Nine people were martyred at the scene. Among them was 35-year-old journalist Sohel Akhanji, a staff reporter for the local Dainik Lokalay Barta. He had been reporting from the ground.

Sohel is survived by his wife, two daughters, and a son. His parents are deceased, and he had no siblings. His wife and children live in Baniachong.

The government has provided Tk 1 million in savings bonds and Tk 500,000 in financial assistance from the July Martyrs Memorial Foundation. The family currently survives on this aid.

His wife, Mousumi Akhter, told Prothom Alo, “We were devastated by my husband’s death. We haven’t filed a case due to financial hardship and legal complications. However, several cases filed by others have mentioned my husband’s killing. I want justice for his murder.”

All five families of the journalists martyred while on duty demand swift justice, but remain dissatisfied with the pace of legal proceedings.

Salute to their sacrifice
Kamal Ahmed, chief of the Media Reform Commission, told Prothom Alo that many journalists individually supported the July uprising and the movement. A few media institutions also played courageous and positive roles. Those who sacrificed their lives did so while working. Many journalists carried out their duties despite great risk. They absolutely deserve a salute.

However, Kamal Ahmed pointed out that most of the media outlets and journalists were aligned, in various ways, with the former government rather than democracy and the mass movement.

He expressed hope that the interim government will implement the Media Reform Commission’s recommendation to withdraw cases filed against journalists who faced harassment, repression, or lawsuits under the previous Awami League regime—and also compensate them on behalf of the state.​

 

[Saif]

Ten women martyred, first death was Naima’s

To mark the anniversary of the mass uprising, the interim government is observing a 36-day programme from 1 July to 5 August (with intermittent breaks). As part of the ‘July Remembrance’ programme,” Monday, 14 July was observed as ‘July Women’s Day’ across the country with the slogan ‘Mora...

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Investigation-1, July Mass Uprising
Ten women martyred, first death was Naima’s
To mark the anniversary of the mass uprising, the interim government is observing a 36-day programme from 1 July to 5 August (with intermittent breaks). As part of the ‘July Remembrance’ programme,” Monday, 14 July was observed as ‘July Women’s Day’ across the country with the slogan ‘Mora Jhonjhar Moto Uddam’ (We are as intense as the storm).

Naznin AkhterDhaka
Published: 15 Jul 2025, 22: 16

Naima Sultana was always so excited about birthday gifts. In her diary, she had written how her elder sister would surprise her every year on her birthday. Many more of Naima’s thoughts came up in the recollections of her mother, Ainun Nahar. At one point, the grieving mother said, “This month marks both the birth and the death of my daughter.”

Naima Sultana was the first woman martyr of the July mass uprising. She was fatally shot while retrieving laundry from the balcony at her home in Dhaka’s Uttara around 5:00 pm on 19 July 2024. Her 15th birthday was on 25 July, just six days away.

Naima was the second of three children, two daughters and a son, of homeopathy physician Golam Mostafa and Ainun Nahar from Matlab Uttar upazila in Chandpur. She was a student at Milestone School and College.

While speaking to Ainun Nahar on 5 July, she said that her children were enrolled in schools and colleges in Dhaka for better education. Her husband stayed in their village, while she lives with her children on the fourth floor of a five-storey building in Sector 9 of Uttara.

Ainun Nahar said, “Our entire family has been mentally shattered after losing Naima. If only I hadn’t let her go to the balcony that day she would still be alive!”

So far, the government has officially gazetted the names of 844 martyrs. Among them are the names of 10 women aged between 6 and 60. These same 10 names are also listed as martyrs in a separate list prepared by the Ministry of Women and Children Affairs. Notably, four of them were under the age of 18.

Apart from Naima, the other nine women martyred in the July uprising are: Maya Islam, 60, Shahinur Begum, 55, Nasima Akhter, 24, Meherun Nesa, 22, Liza Akhter, 21, Sumaiya Akhter, 20, Nafisa Hossain Marwa, 17, Rita Akhter, 17, and Riya Gope, 6. Of them, five were students, two were working women, two were housewives, and one was not engaged in formal education or employment.

Among these 10 martyred women, seven were shot in Dhaka, two in Narayanganj, and one in Savar. Seven of them were shot on the balconies or rooftops of their own homes while the remaining three were shot on the streets.

The first of theme to be shot was domestic worker Liza Akhter, who died three days later. The first death was that of student Naima, on 19 July. Maya Islam, Riya Gopa, and Nasima Akhter were also shot on the same day.

Meanwhile, Meherun Nesa was fatally shot in the evening of 5 August. Two other students, Rita Akhter and Nafisa Hossain Marwa, were also killed that same day in the afternoon. The last death was Shahinur Begum’s, who was shot on 22 July and died in hospital on 1 September.

Prothom Alo spoke to the families of these 10 women to mark the anniversary of the July mass uprising. To mark the anniversary of the mass uprising, the interim government is observing a 36-day programme from 1 July to 5 August (with intermittent breaks). As part of the ‘July Remembrance’ programme,” Monday, 14 July was observed as ‘July Women’s Day’ across the country with the slogan ‘Mora Jhonjhar Moto Uddam’ (We are as intense as the storm).

An empty home without Riya

Alike Abu Sayeed and Mir Mahfuzur Rahman Mugdho, Riya Gopa is also one of the symbols of the July movement. The death of this six-year-old child shook the nation to its core. Riya Gope was the only child of Deepak Kumar Gope and Beauty Ghosh. On 19 July, she had gone up to the rooftop of their four-storey building in the Noyamati area of Narayanganj Sadar to play.

When clashes broke out on the street below, her father Deepak Kumar went to the rooftop to bring her down. It was then that Riya was shot while in her father’s arms. She died five days later on 24 July, while undergoing treatment in the ICU of Dhaka Medical College Hospital.

The couple remains inconsolable after the loss of their only child. They find it difficult to speak to the media about Riya. “You’ve already written so much! What more can I say about my daughter?” said father Deepak Gope. Riya’s mother, Beauty Ghosh, said, “We go about our day, but the pain never leaves. It’s unbearable, and I couldn’t possibly explain it to anyone.”

‘Our lives have been turned upside down’

Mustafizur Rahman lost his mother in the July movement. His only child was also severely injured. For the past year, Mustafizur has been living out of hospitals with his son.

The family lived in a rented flat on the sixth-floor of a seven-storey building in Meradia Haat area of Rampura in Dhaka. Mustafizur recalled that on 19 July, when the situation outside calmed down a little, his 7-year-old son Basit Khan Musa went downstairs with his grandmother Maya Islam, 60, to buy ice cream.

Being a son, I couldn’t even attend my mother’s Janaza. I had to rush in and out of the hospital trying to save my critically injured son, Musa.
Mustafizur Rahman, son of Maya Islam.

As they descended, they found both the collapsible gate and the main entrance closed. At that very moment, a bullet entered the left side of little Musa’s head and exited through the other side. The same bullet also struck Maya Islam in the lower abdomen and then hit the wall behind her. Maya Islam died the following day.

“Being a son, I couldn’t even attend my mother’s Janaza,” Mustafizur said. “I had to rush in and out of the hospital trying to save my critically injured son, Musa.”

After Prothom Alo published a report on Musa’s condition, the government arranged for him to be taken to Singapore for treatment. TV channel, ‘Channel i’ bore the cost of the air ambulance used for his transport. After five and a half months of treatment in Singapore, Musa is now under care at the Combined Military Hospital (CMH) in Dhaka.

Mustafizur said, “Ammu (his mother) is gone. One side of my son’s body is paralysed. Our lives have been turned upside down. Whichever government comes to power next, I hope they will remember the families of the martyrs and take responsibility for the medical expenses of the injured victims like Musa.”

Suddenly, a bullet pierced his chest from the right side, passed through his spine, and exited to strike Nasima, who was standing behind him. The bullet hit her in the jaw and lodged in her throat.

Nasima was shot on the rooftop alongside her nephew

Just like Maya Islam and Musa, Nasima Akhter, 24, and her nephew Ayman Uddin, 21, were also shot together on the rooftop of a 10-storey building on Road no. 1 in Dhanmondi of Dhaka. The family lived in a rented apartment on the seventh floor of that building. Nasima was the youngest of seven children, four daughters and three sons, of Yusuf Ali and Saleha Begum.

She had come from Noakhali to Dhaka to visit her elder brother Helal Uddin’s home in Dhanmondi, who lives in Spain. Nasima had not pursued much formal education. She was about to get married in December last year.

On 19 July, Nasima went up to the rooftop with two of her nephews. There, she was shot and died the next day while undergoing treatment in the ICU of a private hospital in Dhaka. Her nephew Ayman, who was also shot by the bullet, was treated in the same hospital for 15 days.

Ayman is now a first-year student at the Department of Computer Science and Engineering of East West University. He recalled that a helicopter was flying in and out from the direction of Science Lab, while a white drone kept hovering above their heads.

Sumaiya’s mother, Asma Begum, says they no longer have contact with Sumaiya’s husband Zahid. Soaiba lives with Asma now. She has started to babble and can say ‘Ma’.

Suddenly, a bullet pierced his chest from the right side, passed through his spine, and exited to strike Nasima, who was standing behind him. The bullet hit her in the jaw and lodged in her throat. Despite his critical injuries, his name has still not been included in the official list of the wounded, said Ayman.

Sumaiya’s daughter is growing up with her grandmother

Clashes were unfolding outside. A RAB helicopter hovered in the sky. After putting her two-and-a-half-month-old baby to sleep, Sumaiya Akter, 20, stepped out onto the balcony of their sixth-floor flat to catch a glimpse of the helicopter. At that moment, a bullet hit her in the head. She died right there on the spot.

The tragic incident took place in Painadi area of Siddhirganj upazila in Narayanganj around 5:45 pm on 20 July. Sumaiya’s husband, Zahid Hossain, worked as an operator at a garment factory in Kanchpur area. Sumaiya had come to her mother’s house in Painadi to give birth.

Sumaiya’s daughter, Soaiba has already turned one. She still doesn’t understand what losing ones mother means. Sumaiya’s mother, Asma Begum, says they no longer have contact with Sumaiya’s husband Zahid. Soaiba lives with Asma now. She has started to babble and can say ‘Maa’.

Asma Begum says she and her other children try their best to fill the void of a mother for Soaiba. Sumaiya was the third among Asma’s five children. Asma lost her husband of COVID-19 and now she had to watch her daughter die right in front of her eyes, inside her own home.

Shahinur had three sons and two daughters. The eldest, Mosammat Hafeza, 30, cried nonstop while talking about her mother. “Our mother was everything for us. She went through so much hardship for our sake,” said Hafeza.

To be continued................​

 

[Saif]

Liza was shot on the balcony
Liza Akter, 19, worked as a domestic help at a flat in Shantinagar area of Dhaka. She lived on the 7th floor of the 12-storey building. Around 3:00 pm on 18 July, a bullet hit her in the abdomen just as she had stepped out onto the balcony.

Liza’s brother, Md Rakib, a construction worker in Dhaka, said the family she worked for initially admitted her to Aurora Specialised Hospital. Then she was transferred to Popular Medical College Hospital on 21 July. She died the next day on 22 July, at the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) of the hospital.

Liza was the fifth among seven children of Joynal Joynal Shikder and Ianur Begum. They are residents of Borhanuddin Upazila in Bhola. They own no property except from their house. Due to extreme poverty, they had sent Liza to Dhaka about five years ago to work as a domestic help.

One month and ten days after her death, the results of the Higher Secondary Certificate (HSC) exams were published on 15 October. Nafisa passed the exam with a GPA of 4.25.

‘Our mother was everything for us’
On the morning of 22 July, Shahinur Begum, 50, a working woman, was shot while out for a walk in the Kajla area of Jatrabari, Dhaka. She was admitted to the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) of Dhaka Medical College Hospital, where she passed away on 1 September.

Shahinur had three sons and two daughters. The eldest, Mosammat Hafeza, 30, cried nonstop while talking about her mother. Hafeza said their family is originally from Meghna Upazila in Cumilla. Her mother was the second wife of of their father, Md Habib Mia, who did not provide for the family. So Shahinur with her children moved to Shanir Akhra area near Jatrabari.

Every day from 6:00 am to 8:00 am, she sold fish at a local wholesale market. As she had diabetes, she regularly went on walk after finishing her work. On the day of the incident, she was shot during one of these walks. “Our mother was everything for us. She went through so much hardship for our sake,” said Hafeza.

Nafisa wanted to end her mother’s hardship
Nafisa Hossain Marwa, 19, had been actively participating in the movement alongside Jahangirnagar University coordinators since 3 August. She left her uncle’s home in Savar area in the morning on 5 Aufgust to join the movement. That afternoon she was shot near the Savar Model Mosque and died after being taken to the hospital.

When faced with the pressure of child marriage in class eight, Rita had told her parents, “I would become a physician and won’t marry until I can feed my parents with my own earnings.”

One month and ten days after her death, the results of the Higher Secondary Certificate (HSC) exams were published on 15 October. Nafisa passed the exam with a GPA of 4.25. She had taken the exams in the science stream from Sahajuddin Sarker Model Higher Secondary School in Tongi of Gazipur.

Her mother, Kulsum Begum, 44, works as a cleaner in Kuwait. Nafisa was her second child. Her first child, a son, died shortly after birth. Nafisa’s younger sister, Safa Hossain Raisa, is in class seven now.

While speaking to Kulsum Begum over WhatsApp on 1 July, she said that she and Nafisa’s father, Abul Hossain, 54, were separated. Abul Hossain lives in Tongi with his other wife and child. While her younger daughter Safa lives with her maternal uncle, Nafisa used to move in between her uncle’s and father’s homes.

As she spoke about her daughter, Kulsum broke down in tears. “Every morning I used to wake up and find messages from my daughter and then she would call me in the afternoon. Now I feel so empty during those hours. My daughter used to say, ‘Maa, when I’ll grow up I’ll take away all your sufferings’.”

It was around 7:30 in the evening. Meherun had just returned and was calling her brother on the cellphone standing right here. I was nearby. Suddenly, while still on the phone, she collapsed. Asma Akter, Meherun Nesa's mother

Rita wanted to become a physician
Rita Akter, 17, was the second of three children of Ashraf Ali and Rehena Bibi from Kalai Upazila in Joypurhat. When faced with the pressure of child marriage in class eight, she told her parents, “I would become a physician and won’t marry until I can feed my parents with my own earnings.” Seeing her dedication to studies, the family moved to Mirpur area in Dhaka.

Rita’s elder brother, Md Rashedul Islam, said they had lived in Dhaka once before, but returned again in March last year just for Rita’s education. Her parents and he found work in the city. Then Rita joined them in June and she was admitted to Duaripara Government College.

Around 1:30 pm on 5 August, the family received news that Rita had been shot in the head during a protest near the foot overbridge at Mirpur-10. After rushing in to four different hospitals, they found her body in the morgue of Shaheed Suhrawardy Medical College and Hospital. Their mother, Rehena Bibi identified the body by recognising her daughter’s feet.

Meherun died after returning from victory rally
After the fall of the Sheikh Hasina government on 5 August, both siblings had joined a victory rally. Their father, Mosharraf Hossain, waited anxiously on the street in front of their home while the sounds of sporadic gunfire by the police still echoed nearby.

Meherun’s younger brother, Abdur Rahman Tarif, said he had been on the phone with Meherun just after she returned home. She was shot while he was still on the call and had heard his sister scream.

He was on the phone, urging his children, “Come home quickly.” On the other end, his daughter Meherun Nesa replied, “Abbu, I’m coming in a bit.” Meherun returned home while her brother was still outside. About 20 minutes later, Mosharraf Hossain heard that his daughter has been shot inside her own room. A bullet flew through the open window, piercing her in jaw and the side of the chest.

During a visit to the family’s residence in Mirpur-13 under Kafrul Police Station area on this 2 July, her mother, Asma Akter, pointed to the window from where it happened. She said, “It was around 7:30 in the evening. Meherun had just returned and was calling her brother on the cellphone standing right here. I was nearby. Suddenly, while still on the phone, she collapsed.”

The bloodstain on the wall to the side Meherun fell is still faintly visible. The mother has kept the clothes Meherun wore that day preserved just the way it was. The daughter had returned home that day carrying flowers for her mother that remains too, dried up at the bottom of a vase.

Meherun Nesa was the elder of Mosharraf Hossain and Asma Akhter’s two children. Her nickname was Tanha. She was a third-year accounting student at Hajrat Shah Ali Mohila Collefge in Mirpur.

Women played a courageous role in the July mass uprising. They were one of the core strengths of the movement. Their widespread participation inspired everyone and gave the movement a momentum.

Shireen Parveen Huq, head of the women’s affairs reform commission

Meherun’s mother along with her siblings built a six-storied building on a piece of land owned by their father. Each family of their siblings lived in separate flats on the same building. Meherun’s family lived on the third floor.

Meherun’s eldest maternal uncle, Faruk Khan, lived with his family on the fourth floor. Faruk’s son Akram Khan Rabbi was martyred earlier on 19 July. Meherun with a placard had taken to the street demanding justice for her cousin’s death. After the fall of the Hasina government on 5 August, she had said, “Now I’ve got justice for my brother.”

Meherun’s younger brother, Abdur Rahman Tarif, said he had been on the phone with Meherun just after she returned home. She was shot while he was still on the call and had heard his sister scream.

Her father, Mosharraf Hossain, who works as a driver, said he rushed home to find his daughter covered in blood. After Meherun was taken to a clinic nearby, the physicians declared her dead.

Like Meherun’s family, every family of the ten martyred women longs to see justice for their loved ones. Though the families have received financial assistance from the government, none of them can forget the agony of their loss. They hope that the people of the country will remember the sacrifices of these women and whichever government comes next they should honour the martyrs appropriately.

Shireen Parveen Huq, head of the women’s affairs reform commission told Prothom Alo, “Women played a courageous role in the July mass uprising. They were one of the core strengths of the movement. Their widespread participation inspired everyone and gave the movement a momentum.”​

 

[Saif]

Can July be saved from the Tunisia syndrome?

There has hardly been any improvement in the country's condition over the past year. The government and pro-government parties are trying to forcefully impose reforms

en.prothomalo.com

Can July be saved from the Tunisia syndrome?
Maruf Mullick

Updated: 15 Jul 2025, 16: 33

Abu Sayeed's death inflamed us and the people poured onto the streets. The unlawful empire built by Sheikh Hasina when up in flames.

It has been a year since the July uprising. Exactly one year ago in July, the people dragged the fascist Sheikh Hasina down from power.

In face of the protests launched by the students and the masses, the authoritarian Sheikh Hasina was forced to flee from the country to India.

It was because of the unprecedented unity that was forged during the July uprising that the autocratic rule Sheikh Hasina was forced to flee.

However, one year on since then, divisions and rifts appear. After any revolution or uprising, divisions inevitably emerge over the issue of power.


When many sides are involved in this political change, the division gradually exacerbates. There was no sole force that was in charge of our July uprising.

The students lent leadership from the forefront. But there was massive participation by the political parties. They had organised the anti-Hasina movement from behind.

The common people too fought against Hasina's fascist rule with all their might. It was the 17-year relentless struggle that was ultimately manifest in the shape of the July uprising.

The students who led the July uprising have formed a new party. But the party is now embroiled in controversy over several issues. There are even allegations of corruption and irregularities against some of the leaders. The government too is unable to run the country properly.

The current situation in our country resembles that of Tunisia. And this resemblance is a cause for concern and apprehension. We surely haven’t forgotten Tunisia’s Jasmine Revolution. In 2010–11, after 28 days of protest, Tunisia’s autocrat Ben Ali was forced to flee power, much like Sheikh Hasina
There has hardly been any tangible improvement in the country's overall condition over the past one year. There has been much talk about reforms. The government and the pro-government parties are trying to more or less forcefully impose the reforms.

If one does not agree with them 100 per cent, one is immediately marked as anti-government. Truth be told, certain unrealistic and unworkable ideas have been dished out in the name of reforms and these will weaken the future government.

One year since the uprising, there is a feeling among many that the country is being deliberately led towards failure. There is a group that is close to those in power that is intentionally carrying out this plan. This group is creating all sorts of issues to cause a disruption in the county.

There is much similarity between the situation in Tunisia and our country at the start of the revolution. The unfolding events are similar too.

Ennahda, an organisation affiliated to Muslim Brotherhood, the largest and most organised party in Tunisia at the time. That party basically worked from behind the scenes, while the common people and other political parties were visible in the front.

The problem began after Ben Ali fled. If elections were held, Ennahda’s victory was certain. But Ennahda had to be stopped at any cost. Just like here, people are saying no one else should be allowed to become another Sheikh Hasina. Reforms are needed.

In Tunisia too, to prevent anyone else from becoming another Ben Ali, the 2014 constitution was amended to divide power between the president and the prime minister. It proposed a form of balanced governance.

But in reality, a weak system of government was established in Tunisia. Even those without public support were included in power-sharing arrangements under the pretext of maintaining balance.

As a result, from 2011 to 2021, Tunisia saw ten changes in government within ten years, a new government almost every year.

The current situation in our country resembles that of Tunisia. And this resemblance is a cause for concern and apprehension. We surely haven’t forgotten Tunisia’s Jasmine Revolution. In 2010–11, after 28 days of protest, Tunisia’s autocrat Ben Ali was forced to flee power, much like Sheikh Hasina.

The Arab Spring began in Tunisia. It was sparked by the self-immolation of a young man named Bouazizi in protest against state repression. His death awakened the entire nation.

Just like the death of Abu Saeed had stirred us. After that, the streets were taken over by the people. The "palace" of Sheikh Hasina’s illegitimate regime was engulfed in the flames of public fury.

After the Jasmine Revolution in Tunisia, supporters of Ben Ali within the military, police, and bureaucracy were not removed. The reason was that no government could remain in power long enough to do so. Similarly, here too, loyalists of Awami League have not yet been removed. In fact, there are allegations that many of them, having now rebranded themselves as opponents of Awami League, are enjoying various privileges.

Since 2010, revolutions and mass uprisings have brought about regime changes in several countries. Notable among them are Tunisia, Egypt, Libya, Yemen, Ukraine, Burkina Faso, Sudan, Armenia, Sri Lanka and Senegal.


But Tunisia was the only country where the constitution was amended following the revolution. However, that constitutional change failed to yield any positive results. Instead, frequent changes in government led to a decline in investment, economic recession, and rising unemployment in Tunisia.

As public dissatisfaction grew, a university professor named Kais Saied seized power in 2019. He was a professor at a university in Tunis and a familiar face on television talk shows. He often spoke out against the economic mismanagement of the weak governments.

Because of this, he quickly gained popularity. Later, with the support of Tunisia’s elite, he took control of power. In 2021, he suspended the constitution, drafted a new one, and re-established authoritarian rule in the country.

Tunisia returned to the era of Ben Ali. Analysts have termed this return to autocracy as the Tunisia syndrome.

The Tunisia symptom is becoming evident in our country too. In Tunisia, there was no political party that could challenge Ennahda on the electoral front. Instead, smaller parties were brought together under Nidaa Tounes, a party loyal to Ben Ali.

Similarly, in our country, it is assumed that if elections are held, BNP will win. The focus of the others is to stop the BNP, even if that means delaying the election. Various parties are entering the political field with ever-changing issues. Much like Nidaa Tounes, loyal to Ben Ali in Tunisia, certain parties aligned with Awami League are reorganising in different ways.

Suddenly, some parties have started demanding elections and government formation through proportional representation. Their main objective is to block BNP.

In Tunisia, weak governments led to uncertainty and deterioration in law and order. In our country, mob rule has taken hold and people are being beaten to death in public.

Film screenings are being shut down. Tourists are being harassed at popular destinations. Shrines are under attack. Political violence is on the rise. Investment is declining.

In Tunisia, the constitution was deliberately amended to establish a weak government. Here too, there is talk of constitutional reform. These reform proposals seem aimed at forming a similarly weak government, just like in Tunisia.

In the attempt to stop Ennahda, Tunisia’s revolution was ultimately derailed. Here too, in the attempt to stop the BNP, the achievements of July are being pushed toward failure. On the anniversary of July, this is the growing fear that surrounds us.

While Tunisia syndrome is clearly visible in our country as well, the difference is that, in Tunisia, the so called secular parties united against Ennahda.

The West feared that if Ennahda formed a government and managed to stay in power, its influence might spread to other Arab nations. For the same reason, neither Tunisia, nor later Egypt under the Brotherhood aligned Morsi, was allowed to hold on to such a government.

By contrast, here it is the religious parties that are closing ranks against BNP. Who supports them from outside remains unclear, but the objective is identical: stop BNP. Yet the aim of any revolution or uprising cannot be to block a single party.

Rather, revolutions and popular uprisings are meant to establish a tolerant, multi party democracy. If that is not the goal, any revolution is doomed to fail. Tunisia is the best example of this. Therefore, before failure overtakes us, we must protect July from the Tunisia symptom.

* Dr. Maruf Mullick is a political analyst​

 

[Saif]

Most deaths occurred in 5 areas of Dhaka

According to Prothom Alo’s findings, Jatrabari saw the highest number of fatalities during the July uprising. Between 18 July and 5 August (the day the Awami League government fell), at least 117 people were killed in Jatrabari—56 of them on 5 August alone, with 19 more on 19 July and 15 on 20...

en.prothomalo.com

Investigation - 3, July mass uprising
Most deaths occurred in 5 areas of Dhaka

Ahmadul Hassan Dhaka
Updated: 16 Jul 2025, 14: 27

Police fire shots at protesting students in Jatrabari of Dhaka on 18 July 2024. Prothom Alo file photo

During the July mass uprising last year, the highest number of deaths from police gunfire took place in Dhaka. In just five areas of the capital—Jatrabari, Uttara, Mirpur, Mohammadpur, and Rampura—at least 324 people were killed.

This death toll alone shows how horrific the situation was in the capital during the uprising. According to Prothom Alo’s estimates, at least 426 people were killed across different parts of Dhaka in just 21 days, between 16 July and 5 August last year.

Throughout the uprising, law enforcement agencies acted aggressively in various areas of Dhaka. In indiscriminate firing, 117 people were killed in Jatrabari, 70 in Uttara, 62 in Mirpur, 43 in Mohammadpur, and 32 in Rampura. Additionally, at least 102 more people were killed by gunfire in 22 other areas of the city, including Badda, Bhatara, New Market, and Bangshal.

Outside the capital, the student-led movement faced brutal crackdowns in Savar, Chattogram, Narsingdi, Feni, and Rangpur. Prothom Alo’s investigation found that the highest number of deaths occurred on 18, 19, 20 July and 4 and 5 August during the 36-day movement (from 1 July to 5 August). On these five days alone, 747 people were killed—53 on 18 July, 177 on 19 July, 65 on 20 July, 108 on 4 August, and 344 on 5 August.

According to the official gazette, 844 people have been declared martyrs of the July uprising so far. Prothom Alo has verified detailed information on 802 of them. Among these, 706 died from gunshot wounds which is 88 per cent of the total. Most were shot in the chest, back, or head. Even homes were not safe; 10 people, including women and children, were shot dead inside their residences.

During the protests, police would shoot anyone they saw who looked like a student. On 20 July, I was walking down an alley with four other students. A group of officers pointed their guns and said, ‘You joined the protests? Then die----Rimi Ahmed, a private university student.

In July and August of last year, police, RAB, and BGB used lethal force to suppress the movement, as documented in a report by the UN Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR). Alongside law enforcement, members of various affiliate and like-minded organisations of the then-ruling Awami League (now banned) were seen opening fire in different areas.

The OHCHR published its fact-finding report in February. The report stated that Sheikh Hasina’s government systematically used brutal force to suppress the protests. It estimated that more than 1,400 people may have been killed between 15 July and 5 August. Among the victims, 66 per cent were shot with military rifles, 12 per cent with shotguns, and 2 per cent with pistols.

Jatrabari became an “epicentre of death”

According to Prothom Alo’s findings, Jatrabari saw the highest number of fatalities during the July uprising. Between 18 July and 5 August (the day the Awami League government fell), at least 117 people were killed in Jatrabari—56 of them on 5 August alone, with 19 more on 19 July and 15 on 20 July.

From 18 July, protesters brought daily life in Jatrabari to a standstill. For four consecutive days (through 21 July), and again on 4 and 5 August, the Dhaka–Chattogram Highway—from in front of Jatrabari police station to Kazla, Shanir Akhra, and Signboard in Narayanganj—was under their control.

Prothom Alo infographic

To remove the protestors, both law enforcement and pro-government forces armed with firearms took to the streets. Among the protestors were Tanvir Ahmed, a college student at the time, and his father Abdur Hannan, a furniture shop worker. On 5 August, Abdur Hannan was shot dead by police.

Speaking to Prothom Alo on Sunday, Tanvir recalled, “The entire Jatrabari area turned into a terrifying hotspot. It had become a death zone. Police fired indiscriminately. We would lie next to road dividers or hide behind pillars to avoid bullets. Many died right in front of us. Still, we kept protesting.”

He continued, “Around 3:30 pm on 5 August, we were celebrating victory in Kazla. Then someone called from my father’s phone and said he had been shot in the head behind the Jatrabari police station. I ran there and found his body lying on the ground. No one was around. With help from relatives and friends, we loaded the body onto a van and took it to Dhaka Medical College. I never imagined I’d return home with my father’s dead body even after achieving final victory.”

In Jatrabari and Narayanganj, along with students from schools, colleges, and universities, a large number of madrasah students also took part in the protests. Data shows that many madrasah students were among the dead in these areas.

Videos of indiscriminate shooting in Jatrabari went viral during the protests. In one video dated 5 August, a group of police officers is seen firing continuously at anyone in sight.

In another video from 20 July, a young man is shot at point-blank range by police. Another man tries to pull the injured protestor to safety but flees when police continue firing. Later, the victim was identified as Imam Hasan, a college student. His father, Moynal Islam Bhuiyan, was a police sub-inspector.

The government chose a path of brutality to suppress the student-citizen movement. Even children were not spared. What happened was utter barbarism—a national human catastrophe. It was the worst kind of human rights violation----Mohammad Mainul Islam, Professor of Population Sciences at Dhaka University.

That evening, Moynal identified his son’s body at the Dhaka Medical College morgue, where this reporter was also present. Upon seeing his son’s body, the grieving father called a senior officer and asked, “Sir, how many bullets does it take to kill just one person?”

Uttara witnessed brutal crackdowns

Between 18 July and 5 August, 70 people were killed in Uttara—including 16 on 19 July and 32 on 5 August. Protestors included students from private universities and people from various walks of life.

On 18 July, Mir Mahfuzur Rahman Mugdho was shot in the forehead in Azampur, Uttara, while distributing water to protestors. Holding a crate, he was saying “Water, anyone need water?”—a moment captured in a video that later went viral.

That video deeply moved school student Jubayer Ahmed, who then decided to join the movement. On his first day of protest (2 August), he was hit by rubber bullets. On 4 August, a live bullet pierced his lower ribs and grazed his stomach. The bullet is still stuck in his body.

Speaking to Prothom Alo on Saturday, Jubayer said, “I saw many people get shot before my eyes. I lost consciousness soon after being hit. I woke up at a hospital—surrounded by wounded, crying in pain.”

Rimi Ahmed, a private university student, also described the horror in Uttara.

She said, “During the protests, police would shoot anyone they saw who looked like a student. On 20 July, I was walking down an alley with four other students. A group of officers pointed their guns and said, ‘You joined the protests? Then die.’”

Ruling party men open fire with police

In Mirpur, Mohammadpur, and Rampura, armed activists of the now-banned Awami League joined police in suppressing protestors. Many were killed or injured by their gunfire.

In Mirpur, even homes were not safe. On 19 July, 11-year-old Safkat Samir was shot and killed inside his house. Afterward, Ismail Hossain, a Dhaka City AL member, obstructed the post-mortem process. The family buried the boy without an autopsy.

Jubo League General Secretary Mainul Hossain Nikhil and his associates (now in hiding) were most active with weapons in Mirpur. His aide Ripon Ahmed (aka Rinku) was arrested in February. Police said Ripon’s group regularly brandished and fired weapons to intimidate protestors. A total of 62 people were killed in Mirpur alone by police and AL gunmen.

In Mohammadpur, armed figures included Asif Ahmed (then Ward-33 Councillor and nephew of ex-Army Chief Aziz Ahmed), former councillor Tarequzzaman Rajib, and Masudur Rahman Bipul, assistant to AL Presidium member Jahangir Kabir Nanak. Prothom Alo has verified two videos showing them firing at protestors on 4 August, just a day before the government fell. As many as 43 people were killed in Mohammadpur.

In Rampura, student protestors mounted fierce resistance. But law enforcers and Awami League activists again used lethal force killing 32 people.

Elsewhere in Dhaka—Badda, Bhatara, New Market, Chankharpul, Chawkbazar, Gulistan, Agargaon, Mohakhali, Hatirjheel, Kalabagan, Tejgaon, Farmgate, Lakshmibazar, Golapbagh, Dhanmondi, Hazaribagh, Adabor, Banglamotor, Shahbagh, Paltan, Bangshal, and Mugda—police opened fire on protestors. Among them, 50 people were killed in Badda and Bhatara, and 11 each in Bangshal and New Market.

Many victims of the uprising were buried as “unclaimed bodies.” At Rayerbazar Cemetery, 114 bodies were buried this way—their identities remain unknown.

Abu Sayed’s death sparked a nationwide protest

Under the banner of an anti-discrimination student movement, the quota reform protests began on 1 July. On 16 July, the then-Awami League government launched a massive crackdown. That day alone, six people were killed—including Abu Sayed, a student of Begum Rokeya University in Rangpur. A video of his killing circulated widely on social media, igniting national outrage.

Between 18 and 21 July, law enforcement fired indiscriminately to crush the uprising. Failing to stop the protests, the government imposed a nationwide curfew from midnight on 19 July. During the announcement, AL General Secretary Obaidul Quader said a “shoot-at-sight” order had been issued.

The list of those killed during the uprising includes victims as young as four years old and as old as seventy. Prothom Alo’s investigation confirms that 131 children under 18 were killed—most by gunfire. The government’s list of martyrs includes students, workers, and professionals.

Mohammad Mainul Islam, Professor of Population Sciences at Dhaka University, told Prothom Alo, “The government chose a path of brutality to suppress the student-citizen movement. Even children were not spared. What happened was utter barbarism—a national human catastrophe. It was the worst kind of human rights violation.”

[Prothom Alo correspondents Md Mamun, Md Jannatul Nayeem, Abriti Ahmed, and district correspondents helped filing this report]​

 

[Saif]

How brutal oppression triggered July Uprising

When a bullet leaves the barrel of a gun, it bears no name. But when that bullet pierces the chest of a protesting student demanding justice, it inscribes itself in history, writing the death warrant of an unjust regime. Not every killing by the state is immediately recognised as tyranny, especiall

thefinancialexpress.com.bd

How brutal oppression triggered July Uprising

ANUPAM DEBASHIS ROY
Published :
Jul 18, 2025 00:04
Updated :
Jul 18, 2025 00:04

When a bullet leaves the barrel of a gun, it bears no name. But when that bullet pierces the chest of a protesting student demanding justice, it inscribes itself in history, writing the death warrant of an unjust regime. Not every killing by the state is immediately recognised as tyranny, especially when the victims are from marginalised communities. But when an unarmed, ordinary student is shot dead in broad daylight and the moment is captured on camera, the cruelty becomes undeniable. No theoretical justifications offered by the state can obscure the reality that such a killing is the starkest form of oppression.

The tyranny of the Awami League had long been evident to the public. July was merely the eruption of years of suppressed anger. Thanks to the tactical brilliance of student leaders, that rage found a targeted direction. A series of strategic missteps by the Awami League made its downfall inevitable.
My doctoral research at the University of Oxford centres on the July Uprising. While my full analysis is extensive, I would like to share some of my emerging arguments in hopes of generating feedback that may further enrich my study. Let me begin by discussing a few theoretical insights I have already proposed.

The identity of the “student” played a central role in shaping the trajectory of the July movement. In Bangladesh, the figure of the student carries a moral sanctity—historically perceived as the bearer of justice. No Bangladeshi government has survived long after spilling student blood. Once branded as “student-killers,” regimes face an indelible moral stain. In contrast, killings of working-class people—such as garment workers—even after the uprising, often go unheeded by the urban middle class due to class divisions and alienation.

During July, many autorickshaw drivers, labourers, madrasa students, and destitute people lost their lives. Yet, the names most frequently remembered as martyrs are Abu Sayed and Mugdho—because they created transformative moments in the eyes of the middle class. These figures were perceived as “worthy” martyrs, whereas politically affiliated figures like Wasim were not embraced in the same way. One of the primary reasons for the success of the movement was its deliberate strategic non-partisanship—it was portrayed as free from the taint of party politics. I will explore this further in a future essay.
While Abu Sayed’s murder was a major turning point in the uprising, it was by no means the only one. The movement was shaped by many such moments.

Without deeper fieldwork, it is difficult to say which specific incidents resonated most with the public. However, preliminary observations suggest that the government’s decision to shut down the internet was another transformative event. Rather than suppressing the movement, this miscalculation brought hundreds of thousands to the streets—many of whom would have otherwise confined their protests to online platforms. The internet blackout acted as a catalyst for offline mobilisation, particularly among the urban, educated middle class.

But can the mobilisation of millions be explained only by the internet shutdown or student killings? I believe many took to the streets because of the wounds inflicted by the Awami League’s long history of repression. The suppression of protests, enforced disappearances, extrajudicial killings, and torture in secret detention centres left deep scars. In my research, I have identified over a hundred personal testimonies detailing abuses by the ruling party’s student wing. If surveyed, I suspect a significant proportion of these individuals would be found to have joined anti-government protests. Beyond these recorded stories lie thousands more—many shared on social media.

The brutal murder of Abrar Fahad was one of the clearest indications that the ruling party’s student wing had become a terrorist organisation—something that was recognised by many even before the interim government’s recent acknowledgements. For countless students, the actions of the ruling party’s cadres transformed the Awami League into a monstrous entity, the defeat of which became a moral obligation.

Moreover, large-scale injustices—such as forced disappearances, killings, corruption, and money laundering—mobilised not just students, but also ordinary citizens against the regime. This explains why, after July 18, millions of people beyond the student population joined the movement to oust Sheikh Hasina.

Once the murder of Abu Saeed reached the public, the movement had no path left but a single demand—resignation. Although some argue that this was the result of a long-term plan to remove Hasina, I believe the movement had its own endogenous momentum, shaped by transformative moments and martyrdoms. The intensity of the moment made the one-point demand inevitable. Even without the formal announcement, the people were already moving in that direction—and at that point, the leadership had no choice but to follow.

Each death largely fueled this momentum of the moment. Based on my analysis, I propose that the movement grew stronger with every killing, rather than weakening. My data shows a statistically significant relationship between deaths in a particular division and the number of protests the following day.

Machine learning analyses also indicate that various forms of repression—especially disproportionate use of force—served as reliable predictors of protest activity. Thus, not only the long history of oppression but the immediate, unfolding violence of July served to intensify the uprising.

These findings challenge a dominant theory in social movement literature, which argues that intense repression leads to demobilisation or radicalisation. But our July did not cower in fear. It stood face-to-face with tyranny and vowed to uproot it from Bangladesh.

In my book Bidroho theke Biplob, published earlier this year, I argued that the July Uprising had its roots in the 2018 Road Safety Movement. I now believe that it began even earlier—something many now acknowledge, including the official page of the interim government. A detailed chronicle of these past injustices—and an understanding of their impact on public consciousness—could be of tremendous value to scholars of social movements. If we can identify which forms of repression people remember, and which ones move them to stake their lives on the streets, it could significantly advance our understanding of mobilisation. Not only would this be an academic contribution—it would also be a lesson for future politics: to ensure that no future government dares to resurrect the Awami model of tyranny. Just as Awami repression ignited July, the people of Bangladesh—who never forget the insult of injustice—will not hesitate to rise again if oppression returns.

However, July is not just a topic for scholarly inquiry. It is a moment of national consciousness and moral awakening. The movement’s core aspiration was to dismantle the unjust apparatus of the state and build a new, just society in its place. We are still far from that goal. On this first anniversary of the July Uprising, it is a critical time for us to recommit to that struggle. We must ensure that, unlike previous movements, July does not become another hijacked revolution. For that, both student activists and ordinary citizens must work to ensure that the interim or subsequent elected governments commit to deep structural reforms and to building a just state and society. Otherwise, we will have to return to the streets once again—risking more bloodshed, more lives.

But I hope we can activate our democratic institutions so that our people no longer have to bleed. Let our collective pledge on the anniversary of July be this: Carry on the struggle until that vision is realised.

Anupam Debashis Roy is the Editor-in-Chief of Muktipotro and DPhil Canddiate in the Department of Sociology at the University of Oxford.​

 

[Saif]

July uprising: Who gains if the unity is cracked?

The July uprising" is an exceptional chapter in the history of Bangladesh. Since the liberation war, there have been various movements at various times aimed at establishing democracy and good governance. Pro-democracy political forces united in a common struggle against Hasina’s authoritarian rule.

en.prothomalo.com

July uprising: Who gains if the unity is cracked?

Saimum Parvez
Published: 17 Jul 2025, 16: 02

The July-August uprising was a turning point in Bangladesh's history Prothom Alo

The July uprising" is an exceptional chapter in the history of Bangladesh. Since the liberation war, there have been various movements at various times aimed at establishing democracy and good governance. Pro-democracy political forces united in a common struggle against Hasina’s authoritarian rule.

Over the course of this movement lasting over a decade and a half, thousands of people became victims of enforced disappearances, extrajudicial killings, torture and politically motivated arrests. The movement reached its culmination in July and August, when people from all walks of life, political ideologies, professions and gender took to the streets.

Universality was one of the defining features of this uprising. People set aside differences to come together and even sacrifice their lives. Students from public and private universities, schools and colleges, English-medium students and madrasa students alike took part in the uprising. Girls in burqas marched alongside those in jeans and t-shirts. Teenagers from the streets built resistance shoulder to shoulder with the youth of upscale Banani and Gulshan areas. The presence of women across different age groups added a new dimension to the movement.

Prolonging the election timeline and actively encouraging depoliticisation in various ways have also contributed to the erosion of the unity forged during the uprising.

This spontaneous and diverse participation from every social and professional background rendered Hasina regime’s oft-repeated “terrorism” narrative ineffective. People no longer believed in the projected spectre of terrorism because the public itself was a stakeholder in this uprising.

The power of July lay in its unity. People from diverse backgrounds and political affiliations took to the streets in July in support of democracy, for a new system of governance, and against plunder, to assert their right to speak and to secure their basic needs . A key element in the formation of any collective identity is a “common enemy.” During the anti-colonial movement, colonial rulers served as the common enemy around which nationalism took shape in this land. Prior to that, there was no strong sense of ethnic or national identity. Similarly, Sheikh Hasina came to embody the common enemy that gave July its collective identity.

After the fall of the Hasina regime, it became necessary for key stakeholders in the July uprising to come to a mutual understanding in order to preserve this newly formed identity. But such an understanding never materialised. On the contrary, a jarring scramble for power has emerged, so intense that it now threatens the very unity that had once driven the anti-Hasina movement.

Just a year after the fall of the Hasina government, we find ourselves face to face with this worrisome scenario. It is crucial to analyse how we arrived at this point. We also need to consider who stands to gain and who stands to lose if this broad-based unity falls apart.

Despite the absence of security forces, particularly the police, after 5 August, there was no major breakdown in law and order, thanks to the spontaneous unity of ordinary citizens. Yet, even months into the formation of the interim government, we continue to witness a disturbing negligence or reluctance in taking effective steps to ensure public security.

Mazars (shrines) were attacked under the government's nose, women's football tournaments were attacked or halted, there were attacks on those with differing views, on dissenters. Given the circumstances after the uprising, the people were forced to take law and order into their own hands. But once the government was formed following the uprising, it is certainly a massive failure, even a crime, if incidents of mob violence occur and it fails to control such incidents. In certain instances, terror groups rise up, taking advantage of this reluctant and weak position of the government. Many of these groups were even released from jail.

The very democracy that inspired the July uprising is now being portrayed by extremists as a "dysfunctional system of governance." School and college students are being mobilised for rallies and processions where banners and placards openly denounce democratic rule. In the past, under any government in Bangladesh, there has never been such a public stance against democracy.

Many may hold the weak and ineffective stance of the interim government responsible for the failure to realise the immense potential that the July uprising had ushered in. Prolonging the election timeline and actively encouraging depoliticisation in various ways have also contributed to the erosion of the unity forged during the uprising. On social media, campaigns advocating for this government to remain in power for five years, along with the vilification of mainstream politics and political leaders, have encouraged public support for depoliticisation.

NCP's demands for reforming the state structure should be pursued as part of their long-term political vision. A state's framework cannot be transformed overnight with the wave of a magic wand. Hasty and poorly-considered reforms can push the country further backward.

But at the end of the day, the responsibility of running a state and government lies with politicians. Any attempt to manage governance in exclusion of them, leads to administrative failure and also accelerates conflict, resentment, and power struggles.

The meeting in London between the chief advisor Professor Yunus and BNP’s acting chairman Tarique Rahman helped significantly reduce the prevailing uncertainty. However, a certain faction viewed the normal process of transferring power through a public mandate with suspicion. Instead of fostering stability, they began working to sow seeds of discord and division among the pro-July forces.

The consensus on the election timeline began to take shape and the Consensus Commission is expected to arrive at an acceptable position within a month. But fresh attempts are being made to stir unrest across the country. In recent days, there has been a gruesome killing in front of Mitford Hospital, the brutal shooting and tendon-slashing of a young man in Khulna, and an attempted assassination of an imam.

All top BNP leaders have called for exemplary punishment in these cases. Typically, in such instances, protests hold the ruling government accountable for failing to ensure justice. But in this case, we noticed a different approach: the focus was placed solely on the Mitford killing, while the Khulna murder and the imam attack were largely ignored. Moreover, instead of blaming the government, protesters targeted BNP’s acting chairman Tarique Rahman, holding him responsible. The rallies included personal attacks and abusive slogans against him.

Disproportionate attention was given to a single murder case. The focus was turned away from justice and instead to linking Tarique Rahman to the killing as part of a business rivalry. This was accompanied by abusive rhetoric. This has given rise to resentment among BNP’s rank and file. Many believe that this smear campaign was orchestrated by a particular faction aiming to exploit the incident to generate widespread anti-BNP sentiment and damage Tarique Rahman’s personal credibility.

It is important to remember that preventing such crimes requires both organisational resolve and goodwill of political parties, as well as the government's capacity and courage to take effective action. Political parties are not responsible for law enforcement or judicial processes, and therefore their ability to act is limited to organisational measures.

Recently, NCP has been conducting grassroots political programmess across various regions. This effort to engage with the public and understand their concerns should be welcomed. However, an analysis of NCP’s post-July uprising activities reveals a clear tendency toward populist politics. As part of this populist turn, their inclination toward mob violence, depoliticisation and religion-based politics has become noticeable. Even in the aftermath of the Mitford murder, this populist orientation is evident in their social media posts and public speeches.

NCP's demands for reforming the state structure should be pursued as part of their long-term political vision. A state's framework cannot be transformed overnight with the wave of a magic wand. Hasty and poorly-considered reforms can push the country further backward. As part of its effort to evolve into a centrist political force, NCP should focus on choosing the right allies and ensuring that the July alliance does not fall apart. If this unity collapses, it will not only pave the way for the return of a fallen autocracy but also allow extremist factions to strengthen their positions.

* Dr Saimum Parvez is a lecturer in political communication, Deutsche Welle Academy and Bonn-Rhein-Sieg University.​