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Reflecting on a father’s vision and the choices that now face a changed Bangladesh, write Sabrina Islam-Rahman and Naureen Islam

IT HAS been one year since our father, ambassador Serajul Islam (Shobuj, as he is widely known), passed away. And one year since Bangladesh charted her course for a better future. I don’t believe in coincidences, but sometimes history and grief collide in ways that feel undeniably meaningful. Our father devoted his life to the idea that Bangladesh could and must do better for her people, principles, and place in the world. He didn’t just write about that vision; he lived it.


Now, as the country stands at the edge of something new, holding former leaders accountable and rebuilding democratic institutions from the ground up, we find ourselves returning to his words not just with nostalgia and sadness, but with clarity and determination, and for us, his daughters, with pride. He saw this moment coming. And even though it would be hard, he believed the people of Bangladesh are capable of meeting it.

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His vision and foresight

LONG before the cracks in the nation’s democracy became unignorable, he warned that Bangladesh’s greatest threat wasn’t foreign; it was internal. It stemmed from failing to hold leaders accountable, to demand transparency, and to protect democratic norms from erosion. He saw how unchecked power, compromised institutions, and a silenced civil society could lead to what he called ‘a nation managing itself against itself.’ And now, one year since the country’s revolution and his much-too-soon passing, as the country begins to reckon with a complicated past and reimagine a hopeful future, we see his prophetic words and vision reflected in every headline.

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His trust in youth

OUR father believed deeply in the promise of young people. He saw them not just as the future, but as the moral compass of the present, a generation capable of resetting the nation’s course with courage, clarity, and principle. He called for a Bangladesh led by those unafraid to ask hard questions, to think critically, and to imagine boldly. His writing was filled with challenges meant for them: build institutions with integrity, speak truth to power, and demand better of their country, of their leaders, and of themselves. He believed that real leadership would emerge not from political legacy, but from selfless conviction. And it is that conviction he nurtured in us, his daughters and granddaughters, and in a generation rising to meet this call.

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Blueprint for democratic restoration

OUR father believed that nation-building required more than regime change; it demanded confronting the systems that hollow out democracy from within. In essays like ‘Bangladesh: Managing Itself Against Itself’ and ‘India Factor and Jan 7 Election’, he exposed the dangerous intersection between political power, regulatory failure, and foreign interference. He warned how a culture of ‘managing’ institutions, whether in hospitals, elections, or diplomacy, undermines the rule of law and public trust. He argued that sovereignty begins at home and that no external ally could substitute for internal accountability. For him, justice, transparency, and principled governance were not rhetorical ideals; they were the necessary building blocks towards a strong, forward-looking Bangladesh.

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Building Bangladesh that leads, not follows

HIS singular belief was that Bangladesh had the ability to chart her own course, grounded in the resilience of her people, and not dictated by fear or dependency. In the thousands of articles he had written over the years, he emphasised that foreign policy must be driven by sovereignty and strategic clarity, not reliance on external powers. Drawing on his decades in diplomacy, our father believed that Bangladesh’s voice on the global stage should be carried by leaders selected for their merit, not their affiliations or loyalty to party. He championed the idea of a professional, well-trained foreign service, capable of representing the country with both strategic clarity and national dignity. His writing pointed to the need for investment in intellectual capital: people who could think critically, speak truthfully, and act ethically. Today, those values are not sitting in archives. They are shaping the work we continue through the foundation we created in his vision, Bangladesh Empowered: preparing young leaders to serve not power or party, but the people of Bangladesh.

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Nation’s call

OUR father’s presence is still very much with us. We feel his presence in the words he wrote, the convictions he lived by, and the future he dared to imagine for Bangladesh. His writings aren’t reflections on a past we mourn, but instructions for a future we can still shape. They challenge us to think boldly, speak honestly, and act with integrity. The revolution gave Bangladesh a second chance. But it is what we choose to build from here that will determine whether that chance becomes a catalyst for positive change. So, we move forward, not in his absence, but with his guidance.