Bangladesh’s story speaks to anyone around the world fighting for the soul of a democracy, writes Shahidul Alam
They came for me in the dead of night in August 2018, thirty plain-clothes Bangladeshi police officers against one 63-year-old man.
I was handcuffed, blindfolded, gagged, bundled into a car, and beaten. Pins were prepared for my fingernails while threats of waterboarding were shouted into my ears.
I endured 107 days of imprisonment in Dhaka Central Jail fordocumenting and speaking out against then-prime minister Sheikh Hasina’s brutal crackdown on protesters who wanted nothing more thansafer roads. I was accused of spreading ‘false information’ about the government.
Today, I am proud of what my people have achieved in toppling this tyrannical regime. Last year, mass student-led protestsdemanded reform of the government quota system for public service recruitment. On 5 August, six years to the day since I was abducted, Hasina was chased out of Bangladesh.
Butour struggle for democracy has come at a devastating cost. As manyas 1,400 people were slaughtered by government security forces during the protests and at least 3,500 forcibly abducted during her 15-year rule. The seeds of rebellion grew each time a life was taken, each time a critic disappeared.
In aninquiry released last month, the UN said that Hasina’s Awami League’s systematic attacks may constitute crimes against humanity and has called for urgent further criminal investigation. But the Leagueremains officially registered as a political party and couldstill run in the next election, set for late 2025 or early 2026.
In February, protestersvandalized and set fire to Hasina’s former family home, as well as those of other members of her party, calling them ‘sites of fascism’. Students are once again at the forefront of these protests calling on Muhammad Yunus’ interim government to keep his promises of fair elections, genuine accountability for past abuses, and the repeal of oppressive laws.
Watching this continuingunrest – fueled by the residual anger of our people – reminds me of how tenuous our liberties can be. Many fear that Bangladesh could fall back into the same cycle of repression. The interim government has alreadyarrested more than 1,000 people across the country to ‘curb unrest’. There have been at least17 custodial deaths in the last five months. Though these deaths pale in comparison to the number of people killed under Hasina’s regime, it is certainly not what a government with a mandate to restore human rights should be known for.
But Hasina’s power lingers, even internationally. In December,UK prime minister Keir Starmergave his full support to Treasury minister Tulip Siddiq before her ultimate resignation, despite Bangladesh’s anti-corruption commission accusing her and her family of embezzlement. Siddiq is Hasina’s niece.
TheUN investigation into last year’s killings underscores how deep the rot runs. Families are still demanding answers for loved ones shot in the streets, but justice remains elusive. It may be that government insiders concede that rooting out every bad actor is impossible – because how can you replace an entire bureaucracy? After 15 years of corruption, the newly appointed cabinet is unfamiliar with local power dynamics, and avicious media misinformation campaign fueled by neighbouring India, which seeks to discredit the interim government, has made governance even more difficult.
To many people outside the country, Bangladesh’s ongoing struggle might seem distant and unrelatable. But this fight for democracy, accountability, and freedom of speech is universal. One need look no further than the US, where the Trump administration is promoting tyranny under the guise of cherished American values. Bankrolled by the super-rich, the far right globally is drawing immense strength from this moment.
Democracy depends on dissent and transparency, not silence and secrecy.
But after more than a decade in power, Hasina’s reign crumbled under the weight of her arrogance: she rigged elections, crushed opposition, and frittered away her support until rebellion became inevitable.
Hers is a cautionary tale for any leader tempted to define truth on their own terms and to cast opposition as ‘enemies’ – actions that undermine democracy’s very foundations.
For years, Hasina’s administration maintained a veneer of stability while resting on fear and censorship. Regimes such as these offer a stark warning: authoritarian measures do not create lasting peace, stability or popularity. Instead, they erode public trust and plant the seeds of rebellion.
Freedom, I’ve learned, is often taken slowly rather than all at once. One day you wake up and wonder how so many rights could have vanished so quietly. As a photojournalist, I’ve spent my life armed with a camera, fighting to capture the truths others try to erase. My exhibitions have been shut down, I’ve been stabbed, and I’ve had a loaded gun held to my head. I know of entire families that have disappeared, andI’ve seen lives erased with targeted precision.
Having survived prison cells, torture chambers, and show trials, I plead with Bangladesh and the world to remember that democracy depends on dissent and transparency, not silence and secrecy.
Genuine change demands unrelenting pressure from civil society, leaders who respect the law, and an international community that refuses to ignore atrocities. The UN inquiry must be taken seriously, and those responsible for last year’s bloodshed must face justice to end the cycle of violence.
If there is a single certainty, it is that free societies depend on ordinary people who refuse to accept silence and fear. Bangladesh has shown that even the most entrenched regimes can fall when citizens unite to defend their rights.