The Chief Adviser of the interim government has outlined three core responsibilities for itself: organizing elections, initiating reforms, and ensuring justice. Political parties such as the BNP, Jamaat-e-Islami, Gono Odhikar Parishad, etc., are emphasizing elections as the foremost priority. Their argument is straightforward: restoring law and order, attracting foreign investment, and stabilizing the economy all require an urgent return to electoral legitimacy. I fully support this line of reasoning. But I would like to add something more fundamental—something our politicians rarely articulate.
To understand why elections are crucial, we must first revisit the essence of democracy. At its core, democracy holds that the state belongs to its people. If we call Bangladesh a democratic country, we must also accept that sovereignty belongs to the people of Bangladesh.
In the ‘Two Treatises of Government, ‘ John Locke clearly outlines the relationship between the state, the government, and the people. In the ‘Social Contract’, Jean-Jacques Rousseau describes the state as an association of equals, much like a cooperative society owned equally by its members. Every democratic country in the world operates on this very foundation: the people are the rightful owners of the state.
Bangladesh’s current Constitution affirms this principle. Article 7 explicitly states that all powers belong to the people. The Constitution Reform Commission report also reiterates that sovereignty rests with the people.
In democratic theory, “government” refers to a group of individuals chosen by the people, from among the people, to manage the affairs of the state on their behalf.
Simply put, imagine a group of friends living together in a shared apartment (What we call ‘Bachelor’s Mess’ in Bangladesh). To avoid chaos, they agree to appoint one of them as a manager for a month to handle groceries, utilities, and other common responsibilities. Although the manager executes the duties, the authority and ownership remain with the members of the mess. The responsibilities are not his—they are everyone’s.
Likewise, running a country—passing laws, maintaining order, providing justice, defense, education, and healthcare—is fundamentally the people’s responsibility. Since all citizens cannot directly manage these tasks, we appoint a government to act on our behalf. This government has three arms: the legislative (Parliament), the judiciary (courts), and the executive (ministries and departments).
The laws that govern the country are supposed to reflect the collective will of the people. Since all 180 million Bangladeshis cannot sit together to draft laws, they elect members of parliament to do so. These representatives are elected with a view to legislating on behalf of the people, and in the best interest of the people.
The executive branch, which implements these laws and manages day-to-day governance, consists of two kinds of personnel: neutral civil servants selected based on merit, and elected ministers who oversee these bureaucrats.
Think of the civil service as domestic staff (buya) in the shared apartment (Bachelor’s Mess) analogy—hired to perform specialized tasks that residents cannot do themselves. These individuals are hired, paid, and tasked by the mess-member and are ultimately accountable to them.
Similarly, when it comes to judgment and dispute resolution, we tend to choose the wisest and most trusted among us, in the Bachelor’s mess. We go to that person until we trust them. That’s essentially how a judiciary functions. The courts are appointed by the state but derive legitimacy from the public trust they command.
Parliament, ministries, and the courts together make up the government. In a democracy, the people are the owners of all these institutions. The government is not the master of the people; it is their servant.
This is the philosophical foundation of democracy. If you accept that Bangladesh is a democracy and the people are its rightful owners, then you must also accept this: only the people can decide who gets to manage the country on their behalf.
Elections are the best mechanism we have to decide this.
But here lies the problem. Although Bangladesh became independent from colonial rule in 1947 and formally adopted a republican constitution in 1956, the people have never truly enjoyed the freedoms and rights as the owners of the state. In 1970, the people exercised their freedom by voting decisively for the Awami League. But their decision has not been materialized. Instead, on 25th March 1971, the people met with military repression. In 2024, the people demanded fair employment opportunities through the quota reform movement, stating, “In our golden Bengal, there should be no place for discrimination.” In response, Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina—who, constitutionally, is a public servant—retorted, “The grandchildren of freedom fighters will not get jobs, but the grandchildren of Razakars will?”
This triggered a moment of mass realization: the people no longer felt like the owners of the state. Their voices were being silenced. When the police opened fire on protesters, they cried out, “I feed you with my tax, and now you shoot me in the chest?” The people marched to Ganabhaban in defiance, and thus the Prime Minister took a flight to Delhi.
What this reveals is a democratic system that no longer functions. The past three elections were widely regarded as fraudulent. And these rigged elections have eroded every other component of democracy.
That’s why we now need a system where democratic norms and values function properly; where the people genuinely retain sovereignty; where elections are transparent and inclusive; where laws reflect the will of the people; where civil servants serve the people rather than their political masters; and where justice is truly accessible.
Such systemic reform is urgently needed. However, building a new framework of governance will require legal scaffolding and some form of interim management. That’s the role the current interim government claims for itself. But here’s a crucial question: has the public given the interim government this mandate?
The answer is murky. The interim government was neither elected nor formally authorized by the public. It emerged out of backchannel negotiations among political parties and civil society groups in response to an extraordinary crisis.
To go back to our Mess apartment analogy, suppose the existing manager was abusing his powers, and the tenants threw him out. In the chaos, a group of elders appointed a temporary manager, but without consulting all the residents (mess members). In such a situation, what should the interim manager’s role be?
Their job is simple: organize an election to choose a new manager, ensuring that the next one cannot abuse power as the previous one did.
That is precisely the role an interim government should play. Its mandate should be strictly limited to creating the conditions for a fair election and preventing the re-emergence of authoritarianism. Its tenure must be brief—just long enough to restore a broken system.
But the current interim government of Bangladesh is taking steps beyond this limited mandate, and many citizens are not aligned with its extended timeline or its broad reform agenda.
So, what happens when residents of our shared apartment no longer trust the interim manager? Should they allow that person to carry out sweeping reforms? Certainly not. They should only be entrusted with tasks that enjoy unanimous confidence.
The same principle applies here. The interim government’s actions should be limited to the areas where consensus exists. Anything more will only deepen the crisis.
Bangladesh’s political structure is riddled with institutional failures that prevent democracy from functioning. Major reforms are necessary—but they must be designed and implemented by the people themselves, or by their elected representatives. It is not for an unelected interim government to carry out sweeping changes.
The current government’s role should be limited to one task: enabling the people to choose their own representatives, who can then carry out the reforms necessary for a more just, equitable, and democratic society.
Given the criticism surrounding some of the interim government’s initiatives and personnel, the following steps may help restore public confidence and guide the country back to democratic legitimacy:
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Remove controversial figures from the interim government.
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Suspend contentious initiatives until public consensus is reached.
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Prepare for a national unity government, composed of representatives from all elected parties, based on their parliamentary strength. This government should undertake the reform process with a clear mandate from the people.
In conclusion, there is no better alternative to democracy, but it must be democracy in substance, not just in name. For that, we need elections that reflect the people’s will, a government accountable to them, and a system designed by and for the people, not imposed upon them. The interim government’s duty is not to replace the people’s role, but to restore it.
