Hasina’s Trial and the Test of Bangladesh’s Democratic Resolve

Bangladesh is once again standing at the edge of history, not because of an election, but because of a courtroom.

When a nation puts its former prime minister on trial for crimes against humanity, it is not merely seeking justice, it is confronting its own reflection. The forthcoming announcement by the International Crimes Tribunal-1 (ICT-1) on November 13, to fix the date of the final verdict against former prime minister Sheikh Hasina, former Home Minister Asaduzzaman Khan Kamal, and ex-IGP Chowdhury Abdullah Al-Mamun, has become more than a legal milestone. It is a reckoning with power, accountability, and the soul of Bangladesh’s democracy. This is not just about what happens inside a courtroom. It is about whether a nation can hold its most powerful figures to account without descending into political chaos and whether justice can strengthen, rather than fracture, the democratic foundation of the Republic.

Fifty Years of Power and Accountability

For half a century, Bangladesh’s politics have revolved around personality and party, not principle. The Hasina era marked by so called rapid development but also mass corruption and deepening authoritarianism epitomized that contradiction. Her administration’s fall in July 2024, amid mass protests and a deadly crackdown, opened a chapter few dared to imagine. The same leader who once created the International Crimes Tribunal against 1971 war criminals now stands accused of crimes against humanity herself. The irony is striking and instructive. The prosecution alleges that Hasina and her associates ordered or condoned lethal force to suppress civilian uprisings, leading to hundreds of deaths. The charges are grave, but so too are the implications: can the country’s institutions rise above partisan loyalties to deliver a fair and transparent process?

The interim government insists that the tribunal is independent and insulated from political interference. Hasina’s supporters, both domestic and abroad, frame her as a victim of political persecution. In her interviews with three prominent international outlets: The Independent, Reuters, and AFP and four Indian outlets, she denied responsibility for the July bloodshed while conceding that “mistakes were made” by security forces. Such statements — vague yet defensive — only deepen the moral fog surrounding her legacy. For a nation still healing from a decade of repression under the Digital Security Act (DSA), enforced disappearances, and one-party elections, the line between law and politics remains perilously thin. But this trial offers an opportunity — perhaps the last in a generation — to redraw it.

Disinformation, Disruption and Regional Games

As November 13 nears, media reports warn of possible attempts by the banned Awami League to orchestrate unrest in Dhaka and other cities. Leaked communications suggest coordination from exiled figures operating across the border, aided by sympathetic coverage in Indian media. Headlines in outlets like Anandabazar — “Awami League to Take to the Streets” — appear part of a broader narrative war. The aim: to depict Bangladesh as unstable, delegitimize the tribunal, and rally international sympathy for Hasina.

This is not new. For years, the Hasina government mastered the art of narrative control — vilifying opponents as extremists while cultivating foreign sympathy. Now, those same tactics are being recycled from exile, threatening to inflame tensions just as Bangladesh begins to heal. What is different now is the public’s awareness and fatigue. Ordinary Bangladeshis, long subjected to fear, propaganda, and division, are less willing than ever to be pawns in regional power play.

The Weight of the Human Toll

Beyond the politics lies a staggering human tragedy. Independent rights groups, including Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International, estimate over 1,400 deaths during the 36-day uprising that forced Hasina’s resignation. Eyewitnesses documented sniper fire on student rallies and mass arrests under sweeping emergency orders. For survivors and victims’ families, the tribunal represents not vengeance but closure. The question is not only whether Hasina ordered the violence but whether the state machinery under her command became complicit in systemic brutality. Accountability at this level, if achieved through due process, could redefine what justice means in South Asia. But if mishandled through opaque procedures or political grandstanding — it risks deepening the very cynicism that fueled the uprising in the first place.

Among the public, there is a quiet but firm demand: accountability, yes but without another cycle of vendetta. Many Bangladeshis remember the fear and surveillance of Hasina’s rule, yet they also recoil from the idea of a politicized purge. The interim government, aware of this delicate balance, has designated November 13 a high-risk period. Joint patrols by the Army and Border Guard Bangladesh (BGB) will monitor potential flashpoints in Dhaka, Gopalganj, Gazipur and Shariatpur. Maintaining peace will be essential but so will restraint. Heavy-handed crackdowns would only feed Hasina’s narrative of persecution.

Reclaiming the Narrative

The information war surrounding this trial will likely intensify. Hasina’s camp will continue to court sympathy abroad, leveraging the vocabulary of democracy that her own administration so frequently violated. Bangladesh’s media, civil society and diplomats must respond not with counterpropaganda, but with transparency facts, evidence, and historical record.

For every accusation of “political vendetta,” there should be clear documentation:

·       Reports of enforced disappearances and police excesses under her rule.

·       Data on one-sided elections in 2014, 2018, and 2024.

·       Testimonies of journalists and activists silenced under the DSA.

This is not just about defending an interim government’s legitimacy; it is about reclaiming Bangladesh’s moral narrative from those who weaponized democracy to destroy it.

What happens after November 13 will shape not only the tribunal’s credibility but the upcoming national elections. A transparent, dignified judicial process could restore faith in institutions long hollowed out by political control. Conversely, if the trial devolves into spectacle or scapegoating, it will only entrench mistrust. In either scenario, the world will be watching, not to judge the guilt of one woman alone, but to see whether Bangladesh can transcend its cycle of impunity. For fifty years, this nation has struggled to reconcile justice with power, independence with accountability.

Conclusion: A Nation’s Mirror

This trial is more than a legal proceeding; it is a mirror held up to Bangladesh itself. It asks whether a people who once fought for justice in 1971 can now practice it against one of their own fairly, firmly, and without fear. If the country can maintain peace, ensure fairness, and resist external meddling, the November 13 announcement could become a defining moment, not of vengeance, but of maturity. Because in the end, the real verdict will not come from the tribunal’s bench, but from history and from the conscience of a nation learning, once again, to stand upright before it.

By: Tanim Jasim

Tanim Jasim, is an Assistant Professor, Department of Bangla, University of Dhaka, Dhaka 1000, Bangladesh

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