 
                             THE recent surge of violence in Bangladesh reveals a deeply troubling pattern that has intensified since the mass uprising of 2024. Across the country, innumerable incidents ranging from attacks on political figures and assaults on minorities to the destruction of cultural sites, including mazars, have exposed the fragility of public order and the selective application of law. The recent violent assault on Nurul Haque Nur, a prominent opposition leader, exemplifies this phenomenon, drawing attention to the ways in which such violence is permitted, and even facilitated, with tacit or explicit state consent. For citizens of a democratic society, such events raise urgent questions about the deeper mechanics of power and control and the mechanisms through which violence and disorder are systematically regulated, allowing the state to manipulate fear, enforce hierarchy, and maintain dominance while presenting an illusion of spontaneity. Let us then examine what this type of attack, mob or political, reveals about power, state complicity, and the vulnerability of citizens in a democratic society.
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Attack on Nur: power and political participation
THE motive behind Nurul Haque Nur’s sudden agitation in front of the Jatiya Party Office may be questionable, but the attack on him was not random, it was targeted. As circulating video footage indicates, state actors participated in the assault, signalling that opposition figures — those who challenge the political hegemony — are particularly vulnerable and attackable. The assault conveys a clear message to the citizenry: dissent carries tangible risks, and certain lives are deliberately exposed to harm while those who serve the powers in control are protected.
Mbembe (2003) puts it as the exercise of sovereign power through the authority to decide who may live and who may die, determining who is protected and who is subjected to violence. Foucault (1976) further reminds us that modern states exercise power not merely through overt repression but by regulating life itself — a form of biopower. What appears as spontaneous or chaotic violence is often a deliberate mechanism for managing social and political hierarchies. Such structured vulnerability embeds fear and compliance into the quotidian experience of citizens, demonstrating how life itself is systematically regulated to maintain political dominance. By selectively exposing some citizens to violence while shielding others, the state enforces hierarchies of protection. Nur’s vulnerability is not accidental; it signals that political dissenters are deliberately rendered unprotected, revealing the state’s consent — and even direct participation — behind what appears to be ‘political violence’.
Arendt (1970) further clarifies this phenomenon in On Violence, arguing that political violence emerges when authority loses legitimacy. The targeting of Nur demonstrates that coercion becomes the instrument of control when the state’s moral or democratic authority falters. In other words, the attack does not signal the state’s weakness; rather, it functions as a substitute for legitimacy, enforcing order through intimidation rather than consent. Such violence communicates power hierarchies to the broader populace, conditioning citizens to equate compliance with safety. It also creates a culture of fear that discourages dissent, effectively silencing opposition voices without the need for formal legal or institutional action.
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Hegemony in practice: fear, consent, and control
GRAMSCI (1971) emphasises that hegemony relies on a mixture of consent and coercion. In the present case, the state deployed security forces as instruments of coercion: citizens are subdued not only by direct repression but by witnessing violence enacted on political targets. Coercion here is indirect yet effective, maintaining dominance while creating the illusion of spontaneous, at-the-moment unrest. This strategy reinforces the perception that authority is omnipresent and unchallengeable, compelling citizens to self-regulate their behaviour to avoid becoming targets themselves. It also demonstrates how power is normalised through everyday exposure to violence, subtly conditioning citizens to accept hierarchical control as inevitable. Bauman (2000) explains how institutional responsibility can be diffused in contemporary societies. Attacks like Nur’s are framed as uncontrollable or exceptional events, allowing the state to disclaim accountability while benefiting from the social control the violence produces. The fluidity of responsibility disguises the intentionality of state-sanctioned coercion, leaving citizens uncertain about where protection begins and ends. This uncertainty exacerbates insecurity, compelling individuals to negotiate safety through compliance, deference, or silence, suggesting the state’s role is simultaneously hidden and amplified, producing a society in which fear is normalised and dissent systematically constrained.
Girard (1977) highlights the symbolic dimension where societies channel internal tensions through the scapegoat mechanism. Nur becomes a focal point, absorbing collective anxieties in a ritualised act of violence that stabilises hierarchies. Beyond symbolism, it communicates the boundaries of acceptable political engagement, making the cost of resistance tangible. This ritualised violence ensures control is both material and psychological, shaping perceptions, behaviours, and social norms across the populace. Moreover, it signals to potential dissenters that defiance is both visible and punishable, creating a performative lesson that extends far beyond the immediate victim, reinforcing compliance and the internalisation of fear throughout society.
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Implications for citizens and democracy
BEYOND the immediate political target, the attack on Nur reveals a broader erosion of democratic norms and civic security. When violence is selectively applied, citizens learn to navigate public life under constant threat, adjusting behaviour to avoid becoming targets themselves. This culture of fear undermines public trust, discourages political engagement, and fosters self-censorship, as ordinary people perceive participation in civic life as risky. Moreover, the deliberate exposure of certain individuals to harm communicates a tacit hierarchy of protection, making clear whose rights and safety are valued and whose are expendable. Over time, such dynamics normalise fear, constrain meaningful dialogue, and weaken the foundations of participatory democracy, creating a society where compliance and caution replace civic agency and political deliberation.
The consequences extend beyond political engagement to social cohesion: communities become fragmented as suspicion and apprehension permeate everyday life, shaping how individuals move, interact, and inhabit public spaces. Once arenas for debate and assembly, public spaces are increasingly experienced as zones of potential danger. Implication for citizens’ capacity to hold power accountable diminishes, and collective action is stifled, leaving democratic processes hollow in practice. The attack thus functions both as a warning and a mechanism of control, influencing behaviour, attitudes, and social relations in ways that entrench authority while discouraging dissent. In this context, fear becomes a tool not merely for suppressing opposition but for regulating the very framework of civic life.
Nur’s attack is neither random nor an isolated incident; rather, it serves as a critical lens through which to examine the operations of mobocracy under conditions of state consent and complicity. The event underscores how modern authority manipulates disorder, blending biopolitical regulation, necropolitical sanction, and symbolic scapegoating to consolidate power and enforce hierarchies of protection. Such orchestrated violence signals to citizens whose lives are valued and who are expendable, embedding fear and compliance into the social fabric while undermining the legitimacy of democratic institutions.
For citizens, recognising these patterns is essential: democracy cannot endure when violence is both systemically deployed and publicly denied, when the rule of law is selectively applied, and when fear supplants consent as the primary mode of social regulation. Beyond immediate political consequences, such incidents corrode civic trust, constrain political participation, and normalise hierarchies of vulnerability, producing a society in which obedience is conditioned by intimidation rather than reasoned consent. Critical awareness of these mechanisms is the first step toward accountability and resilience, equipping citizens and civil society to contest coercive authority, demand equitable protection, and safeguard democratic norms against both overt and covert instruments of domination.
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Tina Nandi is a part-time faculty member of the Department of English and Humanities at the University of Liberal Arts Bangladesh and a former broadcast journalist.
