A grave constitutional question now confronts the nation: whether the International Crimes Tribunal (ICT), originally constituted to prosecute atrocities committed during the 1971 Liberation War, is legally valid in its present incarnation. This inquiry is neither academic nor rhetorical; it strikes at the core of constitutionalism, the doctrine of separation of powers, and the integrity of justice in the People’s Republic of Bangladesh. Under Articles 7(1) and 7(2) of the Constitution, all powers of the Republic belong to the people, and no authority may assume or exercise any power except under and by virtue of the Constitution. The current interim administration, installed without an electoral mandate, therefore possesses no constitutional competence to revise, restructure, or reinterpret a statutory tribunal of such gravity. Articles 48–58, which govern the executive branch, make no provision for a non-elected intermediary government empowered to alter the constitutional architecture, rendering any such alteration ultra vires. Any reconfiguration or extension of the ICT’s scope by an unelected authority is not simply procedurally defective but a constitutional nullity that undermines the foundational principle that sovereignty resides exclusively in the people.
The International Crimes (Tribunals) Act of 1973 was enacted with a singular and historic purpose: to bring to justice those accused of genocide, war crimes, and crimes against humanity committed in 1971. This mandate is unambiguous in both the text of the Act and decades of judicial interpretation. Using this Act to prosecute contemporary political leaders unconnected with the events of 1971 represents a blatant jurisdictional overreach that violates constitutional guarantees such as equal protection of law, the right to be tried under valid law, and the right to an independent and impartial tribunal. In this misuse, a specialised historical tribunal is transformed into a political instrument—something Parliament never authorised and the Constitution never envisioned.
The ICT, as currently operational, shows the characteristics of a tribunal compromised by internal and external pressures. Although Article 94(4) of the Constitution declares that the Chief Justice and the other Judges shall be independent in the exercise of their judicial functions, the tribunal now appears to function as a mechanism that merely endorses political directives rather than serving as an impartial court of law. Such influence subverts judicial independence, procedural fairness, and the constitutional promise of due process, creating not a forum of justice but a carefully choreographed performance.
The present administration, lacking constitutional or democratic legitimacy, has assumed authority over a tribunal empowered to impose the gravest of penalties, including capital punishment. This concentration of unchecked power violates the basic structure doctrine, repeatedly affirmed by the Appellate Division, which safeguards the rule of law, judicial independence, democratic accountability, and the separation of powers. A tribunal issuing life-and-death judgments under the shadow of an unelected regime constitutes a profound constitutional aberration.
The constitutional right to transparency is also at stake. Under Article 39, freedom of thought and the right to information form essential pillars of public accountability. The continued refusal to disclose foundational documents, Supreme Court references, constitutional justifications, and even the alleged resignation letter of Sheikh Hasina from the office of Prime Minister—on which the interim government’s legitimacy purportedly rests—gravely undermines these guarantees. Transparency is a constitutional obligation, not an optional virtue. Without it, the legality of governmental and judicial actions remains obscured, eroding public trust and legal certainty.
If the ICT continues to operate outside its statutory mandate and constitutional limits, Bangladesh risks normalising legal exceptionalism, turning the law into an instrument of political retribution. This trajectory violates the guarantees of equality before law, due process, fair trial protections, and the fundamental principle that justice must not only be done but must be seen to be done. Once legal mechanisms are commandeered for partisan or externally influenced purposes, the Constitution becomes a hollow document—invoked but not honoured.
The concerns extend beyond a single trial. If tribunals like the ICT are permitted to exceed their original mandate, a dangerous precedent emerges in which law becomes a vehicle for political vengeance rather than a safeguard of accountability. The misuse of this tribunal undermines due process and risks transforming the justice system into an instrument of power. The ICT, in its present form, has been reduced to a tragic parody—an unconstitutional and unlawful apparatus engineered to try Sheikh Hasina in absentia and to deliver a predetermined death sentence on 17 November 2025 based on contrived and fabricated allegations. Accordingly, all actions undertaken by the present ICT must be deemed null and void.
The challenge raised against the ICT is not political theatre but a considered constitutional indictment. The tribunal, as it currently operates, suffers from constitutional invalidity, statutory misuse, and deep entanglement with an unelected regime. In raising these concerns, the enduring truth is reaffirmed: the law must remain the guardian of liberty, not the servant of power. The critique of the present ICT framework is a principled legal argument—asserting that the tribunal lacks constitutional validity, is being misused beyond its original purpose, and functions under a government whose legitimacy is deeply questioned. These concerns highlight vital issues about law, power, and the meaning of justice in modern Bangladesh, challenging society to consider who the law protects and who controls it. Bangladesh deserves a justice system rooted in the Constitution, not in expediency, coercion, or external manipulation.
