Throughout Bangladesh’s history, whenever democracy has weakened, the first blows have fallen upon its institutions. The judiciary, universities, the media, and professional organizations have gradually been transformed into testing grounds for political loyalty. What is currently unfolding within the country’s bar associations is merely a new version of the same dangerous trend established during the previous interim government led by Muhammad Yunus.
Since the formation of the new Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP)-led government under the leadership of Tarique Rahman on February 17, 2026, more than three hundred lawyers identified as supporters of the Awami League or as independent candidates have reportedly been prevented from contesting elections in at least 19 bar associations across the country. These include the Bangladesh Supreme Court Bar Association and the bar associations of Dhaka, Chattogram, Rajshahi, Mymensingh, Khulna, Gazipur, Barishal, Cumilla, Manikganj, Munshiganj, Dinajpur, Naogaon, Jhalokathi, Panchagarh, Chandpur, Shariatpur, Jamalpur, and Thakurgaon.
In some cases, the election commissions responsible for conducting bar elections refused to issue nomination papers. In other instances, lawyers aligned with the ruling party and opposition groups obstructed the collection or submission of nomination forms. Elsewhere, election commissions directly cancelled candidacies. In many places, such an atmosphere of fear was created that lawyers affiliated with the Awami League did not even dare to contest the elections.
Labeling them as “collaborators of fascism,” the Supreme Court Bar Association cancelled the nominations of 42 lawyers, while the Mymensingh District Bar Association cancelled the candidacies of 16 lawyers. Additionally, the Munshiganj Bar Association cancelled the candidacies of 11 lawyers.
In the Dhaka Bar Association elections for 23 posts, the Chattogram Bar Association elections for 21 posts, and the elections for 15 posts in the bar associations of Shariatpur, Barishal, and Jamalpur, not a single Awami League-supported independent lawyer was able to collect nomination papers.
In Gazipur Bar, when 39 lawyers attempted to collect nomination papers for 16 posts, the Chief Election Commissioner refused to issue them the forms. In Chattogram Bar, when lawyers attempted to collect nomination papers for 21 posts, lawyers aligned with the ruling party and opposition groups obstructed them, and at one point the Chief Election Commissioner shut the doors of his office.
In the Thakurgaon District Bar Association election, police reportedly visited the residence of a presidential candidate late at night on the eve of the election and pressured him to withdraw from the race.
Furthermore, in Shariatpur, an NCP-supported lawyer was physically assaulted while attempting to collect nomination papers. In the Cumilla Bar Association election, although nomination papers could ultimately be submitted through the intervention of a local Member of Parliament, lawyers aligned with the ruling party and opposition groups allegedly obstructed election campaigning.
Moreover, in the bar associations of Rajshahi, Khulna, Naogaon, Jhalokathi, Manikganj, Dinajpur, Panchagarh, and Chandpur, a climate of fear has long been created through arrests, threats of criminal prosecution, threats of mob attacks, and various forms of intimidation, to the extent that both Awami League-affiliated and ordinary lawyers lacked the courage to participate in the elections.
These incidents are not merely administrative decisions directed against one political group; they constitute a direct assault on the constitutional spirit of Bangladesh.
The most alarming aspect is that these injustices are now being legitimized as a “moral position.” It is as though holding a different political ideology has itself become a crime. It is as though the state, or a particular group, now claims the authority to determine who deserves full citizenship rights and who does not. Yet the Supreme Court Bar Association, along with every other bar association in the country, is a professional and non-political body.
The question is this: if a lawyer has committed a crime, then where is the court? Where is the trial? Where is the judgment? Has the Constitution of Bangladesh been abolished? Or will political identity now become the sole criterion for determining criminality?
Today, some are being labeled “Awami League supporters”; tomorrow, others will be branded “BNP supporters”; the day after tomorrow, they will be called “anti-government.” There is no end to this logic. History bears witness that any state which begins depriving citizens of rights on the basis of political identity ultimately destroys its own democratic foundations.
What is most concerning is that this culture is becoming normalized even among professionals connected to the justice system. If lawyers—whose responsibility is to uphold the rule of law—begin to believe that “those who do not share my political views cannot contest elections,” then where will ordinary citizens seek justice?
A bar association is not a wing of any political party. It is a professional institution of lawyers. Elections within such institutions are supposed to be based on competence, professional integrity, leadership ability, and the confidence of fellow colleagues. Instead, these institutions have been transformed into battlefields of political vengeance.
If, during the final years of the Awami League government, Supreme Court Bar elections were tainted by allegations of intimidation, violence, arrests, and partisan influence, and BNP-aligned lawyers faced harassment, then the allegations of intimidation, violence, arrests, and partisan influence during the interim government and the current BNP government far surpass them. Moreover, do the irregularities committed during the Awami League government legitimize today’s injustices? Absolutely not.
This is the greatest tragedy of Bangladeshi politics—governments change, but the political culture does not; rather, it intensifies a hundredfold. Those who were victims of repression yesterday are now employing the language of repression on a much larger scale. Those who once spoke of democracy are now attempting to exclude dissenting voices from elections. Unless this cycle is broken, genuinely democratic institutions will never emerge in this country.
It is now being argued that since the activities of the Awami League have been banned, its supporters should not be allowed to contest elections. But where does the law state that supporting a political party automatically strips a citizen of professional rights? Even if a political party is banned, that does not mean every supporter of that party automatically becomes a criminal. One of the most fundamental principles of law is that individual liability must be determined individually.
Article 38 of the Constitution of Bangladesh guarantees the right of citizens to form associations. Article 31 guarantees the right to the protection of law. Article 27 states that all citizens are equal before the law. Yet in reality, political identity is now determining who enjoys rights and who does not.
This is not merely a political crisis; it is a constitutional and institutional crisis. When professional bodies are operated on the basis of partisan loyalty, the neutrality of the entire judicial system comes into question. People can no longer view the courts as impartial institutions.
The most dangerous aspect is that this politics of exclusion ultimately legitimizes violence.
When you prevent people from even participating in elections instead of defeating them through votes, you abandon the path of democracy and move toward repression and fascism. Repression never offers a lasting solution; rather, it generates more division, resentment, and revenge.
What Bangladesh needs today is not revenge, but reconstruction. The country needs a political and professional culture in which differing opinions are challenged through debate and ballots—not suppressed. If a lawyer committed wrongdoing in the past, voters will reject that individual. But depriving voters of the right to make that decision themselves reflects nothing but distrust in democracy.
Lawyers are not merely members of a profession; they are an integral part of the state’s justice system. If their organizations encourage intolerance, revenge, and political exclusion, it signals grave danger for the entire nation.
Bangladesh now stands at a historic crossroads. Do we want a state where political identity determines people’s rights? Or do we want a state where the rule of law applies equally to everyone?
The answer to this question will determine how genuine Bangladesh’s future democracy truly becomes.
