THE interim government’s decision to provide combat and shooting training to nearly nine thousand young people under a programme taken by the ministry of youth and sports and framed, in the language of the adviser to the ministry, as a move to ‘strengthen national defence’ is a misleading initiative. The initiative rests on deeply questionable legal, political and ethical grounds. The programme, set to launch on November 9 at Bangladesh Krira Shikkha Pratisthan residential training centres, has, therefore, justifiably triggered widespread unease and criticism. While the idea of ‘national defence’ or ‘mass defence’, and the training of eligible youth in combat and defence techniques, is in principle a welcome one, the current initiative lacks the essential legal and political backing that such a national project requires. The initiative, in content and intent, appears to be a dangerous overreach by a ministry that has no mandate to engage in military-style ventures. Questions have rightly been raised by political and security experts as to why a ministry responsible for youth development and sports is delving into the realm of national defence — a domain clearly under the jurisdiction of the home and defence ministries. Such an initiative, undertaken under a ministry whose top boss is known to have links with a particular political party, has understandably alarmed many political actors who see it as a ploy to create private or partisan a cadre for future political use, particularly in the upcoming elections.
Even more alarming is the absence of basic prerequisites such as a national defence policy, parliamentary approval or political consensus for such a programme. Moreover, the training, introduced without proper security screening or background checks of participants and without any legislative oversight, risks empowering individuals with dubious backgrounds and opaque political affiliations. This fear is not unfounded, given the country’s history of ‘voluntary’ or ‘auxiliary’ groups that later turned into instruments of coercion or partisan violence against political opponents. The controversial move, especially in the run-up to a national election, is reckless at best and sinister at worst. The message this programme sends to a volatile, post-uprising political landscape is open to dangerous interpretations too — one being that an unelected interim administration is mobilising a quasi-militia under the pretext of national security. By definition, an interim government lacks the legitimacy to embark on long-term or security-related policies and programmes. If such a programme is to be implemented, it needs to be based on a clear national defence policy and enacted through proper legislation, complete with rules, regulations, oversight mechanisms, budgetary provisions and other necessary resources to engage civilian youth in national defence.
The interim government must, therefore, withdraw this programme immediately and allow the elected government — once in office — to determine the future of any national defence or youth engagement policy through appropriate political and legislative consultation. It should not allow an ill-conceived, politically tone-deaf programme to compound an already tense political landscape. National defence, after all, is not a sporting issue.
