
THE July Charter of 2024, born from the fervour of the July Uprising, remains suspended in uncertainty. Disagreements over its scope—especially how to grant it a durable, supra-constitutional status—have stalled progress. The public is frustrated that the politics of reform has been replaced by a politics of pre-emptive power appropriation. With elections slated for February 2026, there is scarcely enough time to implement the ambitious reforms promised by the belatedly declared Charter.
It is worth recalling how the situation unfolded. It began as a student movement demanding justice and equity, which suddenly escalated into a countrywide mass uprising. It led to the collapse of the fascist government on 5th August 2024 — a regime that had initially come to power through the December 2008 elections. That government was strong and adamant about containing the uprising at any cost; over just four weeks, security forces fired an estimated 350,000 bullets at the people. In the last week of July, the movement crystallised into a resolute, nationwide mass uprising with a single, unified demand: the resignation of the fascist government. When the military declined to use lethal force to control the populace, the rulers capitulated and fled.
In reality, such a swift collapse was unforeseeable. The nation was taken aback, and the political field was left vacant as the accomplices of the fascist regime fled for their lives. The fall of the regime demonstrated the limits of bullets against the bravery of a united people.
The country needed a new government to restore the functions of the state. Defying his age and lack of political experience, professor Yunus agreed to return home and assume leadership. He duly formed a government and filled the vacuum on August 8, 2024. Naturally, this new leadership was unprepared to articulate a coherent policy framework. History teaches us that transformative moments require philosophical grounding. The French Revolution, for instance, was anchored in liberty, fraternity, and equality. While the mass uprising of July 2024 had the limited initial agenda of ending the fascist regime, everyone recognised that the state established in 1971 had degenerated and urgently needed reconstruction. The sudden fall of the long-enduring regime ignited a hope for rebuilding the state and society, removing the reign of terror, and restoring peace and justice across the board.
The interim government has taken several reformative steps, including forming commissions on economic and political issues. However, nothing concrete has emerged regarding the critical task of rewriting the country’s constitution. The current constitution contains elements that facilitated the rise of dictatorship and autocracy. It lacks checks and balances, allowing a state to gradually assume a fascist character even under a democratically elected government. While political parties are divided on the critical issue of the electoral method, merely increasing reserved seats for women in parliament would be a symbolic gesture at best.
Reforming appointments to constitutional offices — broadly defined to include statutory roles and positions requiring reduced government control — is a priority. However, such reforms hinge on the retirement or departure of current officeholders. While the moves taken so far remain peripheral to the core reform agenda, the government is largely composed of accomplices from the fascist regime. Thousands loyal to the ousted regime believe their leaders will be catapulted back to power one fine morning.
Some advisers are performing commendably; yet they fail to realise they hold political positions and are not merely meant to excel as efficient permanent secretaries in a Westminster-style government. It is time to recruit political minds for these roles. The selection process must be neutral and rational to ensure the best candidates are appointed as advisers.
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I
ON 5TH August this year, professor Yunus, flanked by top political leaders on the South Plaza of the Parliament House, presented a powerful show of unity. However, unity is not the essence of true democracy. Unity to support professor Yunus as head of the interim government is one thing; unity to reform the state by rising above party interests is entirely different. By recruiting political minds into his cabinet, professor Yunus would gain better leverage to coordinate the crosscurrents of party interests.
The country, pushed to the brink of collapse, has been successfully stabilised by professor Yunus’s interim government, competently aided by dedicated and well-trained technocrats like Dr Saleh Uddin Ahmed, Dr Wahid Uddin Mahmud, and Dr Ahsan Mansur. Hats off to them. While they continue to perform admirably in their own right, we now need people trained in politics to revamp the effort to materialise the July Charter.
As patriotic citizens with an unswerving commitment to the country’s sovereignty, we want to see the spirit of the July Uprising enshrined in a lasting framework. Given its domestic and international acclaim, this ambition is understandable. Notwithstanding that the Charter’s extensive scope makes it appear impractical as a single constitutional document, we envision its spirit and letter being given supremacy by all stakeholders. We would not mind if its contents were distributed across multiple instruments with varying degrees of priority.
We do not disagree that the ultimate goal is to conduct a free, fair, and inclusive election to install a democratically elected government, as reiterated by the chief adviser. However, bowing to the restlessness of political parties, professor Yunus has declared a tentative election timeline without any corresponding schedule for constitutional reform. Politically motivated protests and demands for special dispensations detract from our primary goal: rebuilding the nation’s broken institutions.
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II
IT IS intriguing that politics in Bangladesh is suddenly grappling with the concept of proportional representation. It is important to clarify that PR is not aÌývoting systemÌýper se, but anÌýelectoral systemÌýfor allocating seats. Under PR, people would still vote for a candidate in their own constituency. However, if their candidate loses, their vote would not be wasted, as seats in parliament would be distributed among parties according to the total number of votes cast for their symbol. In operation, each citizen’s vote would carry equal weight. From this perspective, a system of proportional representation may seem more democratic in essence.
A preference for PR implies an inclination to mitigate the ‘spoiler effect’ common in first-past-the-post systems. Our question to its supporters is: why stop there? Why should Bangladesh not switch from a republican system to a direct democratic system? In the latter case, there would not be different candidates for different constituencies. Each party would have one national candidate, and the entire country would be a single constituency. The election would essentially be a national plebiscite among party symbols — a sheaf of paddy, a weighing scale, or a water lily. This would also imply centrally controlling legislative appointments rather than local legislative voting. In essence, it would institute a quota in Parliament for those who lost in the majoritarian selection process.
This is not a novel idea. In Israel, the principle of country-wide elections treats the nation as a single electoral district for distributing Knesset seats, aiming to maximise representation for various groups. However, let us not forget that Italy has suffered from chronic instability due to its PR system. Germany also uses a proportional system and is frequently obliged to form coalition governments. It has secured stability to some extent by introducing a 5 per cent electoral threshold — a party must secure at least 5 per cent of the vote to be eligible for seats in the Bundestag.
Adopting proportional representation would be a radical change to the selection process. On the surface, it may infuse balance into the power structure, though it could also lead to coalition governments. However, will proportional representation beget a better social choice system? The renowned economist Kenneth Arrow mathematically proved that achieving a perfectly rational collective decision is impossible, for which he was awarded the Nobel Prize in 1972.
Whether we like proportional representation or disapprove of it, the emerging controversy is stimulating. It appears politicians have finally started to take lessons in political science. It is important because brainstorming on political thought and theories of governance will, we hope, produce a parliament of mature and educated politicians.
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Faizul Latif Chowdhury teaches economics and quantitative analysis at the Independent University, Bangladesh.