January 13, 2026
DHAKA – As Bangladesh approaches the 13th parliamentary election scheduled for February 12, the nation is not merely preparing to elect a new government. It is also being called upon to rebuild the state itself. The autocratic dispensation overthrown by the 2024 mass uprising did not collapse just because of its electoral illegitimacy; it fell because power was centralised, institutions were captured, accountability was extinguished, and democratic norms were systematically dismantled.
If the upcoming election is treated as an end in itself, history is likely to repeat itself. If, however, it serves as a gateway to a genuine reset for a durable democratic transition, the country may finally break free from the cycle of authoritarian relapse. In my view, achieving this goal requires adherence to at least three cardinal rules or governing principles, drawn from global experience as well as Bangladesh’s own painful lessons.
Resetting parliamentary and bureaucratic functions
The first rule is that the elected executive (parliamentarians) will be in full control of policymaking while the permanent executive (bureaucrats) will be responsible for execution—both playing their part within the bounds of their respective mandates. This distinction, however, has rarely been respected in Bangladesh. Ministers are constitutionally responsible for laws and policies, yet real power often resides in an entrenched bureaucracy that shapes policy, controls implementation, and operates with limited accountability.
This is not accidental. Bangladesh’s bureaucracy is a direct descendant of the colonial state designed by the British Raj to extract revenue and control subjects, not to serve citizens. Independence did not dismantle this extractive system; it merely transferred it. Over time, bureaucratic discretion became a source of power and rent, while democratic oversight weakened, creating a vast resource-distributing ecosystem involving corrupt or compromised politicians, bureaucracy, judiciary, and business under the fallen regime.
The result of this erosion has been immense and multidimensional. Bangladesh’s tax-GDP ratio hovers around six to seven percent, which is among the lowest globally. Public investment suffers not only from fiscal constraints but also from bureaucratic gatekeeping and delay. Annual Development Programme implementation repeatedly falls behind schedule, with cost overruns reflecting persistent administrative failure. A survey conducted early last year by the Public Administration Reform Commission found that 66 percent of people thought that civil servants behaved like “rulers,” while an overwhelming 80 percent believed they were not friendly to the general public—a perception that remains more or less unchanged.
Global experience offers a clear contrast here. Beyond the pre-World War II democracies, countries such as South Korea and Indonesia restored democratic governance by professionalising their civil services while reasserting political control over policy. Singapore’s merit-based bureaucracy, protected by constitutional safeguards, illustrates how insulation from partisan capture can coexist with strong accountability. Pakistan’s repeated governance failures, by contrast, demonstrate the cost of a politicised administration.
Bangladesh can establish the parliamentarian-bureaucrat boundary through law and practice: clearly demarcated roles, independent oversight of the civil service, and firm parliamentary control over policy direction. Elected officials must lead policymaking, while bureaucrats must execute professionally, neutrally, and transparently. In this regard, a concrete remedy would be the enactment of a Constitutional Service Act to legally demarcate functions, shield the bureaucracy from partisan rotation, and establish an independent oversight authority.
Activating the judicial hierarchy to ensure justice delivery
The second rule requires a functional judicial pyramid to end the tyranny of delay in, or denial of, access to justice. Over the years, the systemic politicisation and under-resourcing of subordinate courts have destroyed public trust, often compelling citizens to bypass them and, at times, even resort to extrajudicial means out of frustration.
As of June 30, 2025, pending cases at the Appellate Division of the Supreme Court stood at 37,002, while the High Court Division’s burden grew to 6.16 lakh. Meanwhile, across all tiers of the judiciary, the total number of pending cases stood at 46.52 lakh. An overburdened apex court struggling with so many pending cases is a stark warning of what happens when the judicial hierarchy collapses. No legal system can function this way. Justice must be delivered at the appropriate level, not perpetually escalated to the top.
Here, we must acknowledge the key judicial reforms rolled out in recent months, including the establishment of a Supreme Court Secretariat to safeguard and streamline judicial authority, transferring control over promotions, postings, and transfers of lower court judges from the law ministry to the apex court. Civil and criminal courts have been separated at the district level. There will also be permanent High Court benches in every division. These measures are intended, among other things, to streamline judicial functions and reduce case backlogs. They also reflect the urgency of activating the judicial pyramid. For without a functioning lower judiciary, constitutionalism itself becomes fragile and selective. The challenge now is in ensuring proper implementation of these and other recommended reforms.
Confining political contests to parliament
The third cardinal rule is to install Jatiya Sangsad as the centre of democratic politics by constitutionally embedding a meaningful opposition. Democracy functions through structured disagreement and sustained scrutiny.
Bangladesh’s recent parliamentary history reveals a dangerous pattern: following deeply flawed elections, parliament effectively became a one-party system with minimal debate and negligible amendment of legislation. Between 2008 and 2024, fewer than one percent of bills were substantively altered through opposition input. Unsurprisingly, opposition politics shifted from the chamber to the streets.
Street politics is not a cultural inevitability but rather an institutional failure. When opposition is denied space in parliament, it seeks relevance and redress elsewhere. Hartals, blockades, confrontations, and disruptions impose heavy economic and social costs, particularly on informal workers and the poor.
The true test of a democracy is its ability to institutionalise opposition. In mature democracies, opposition is formalised through mechanisms such as a “Shadow Cabinet,” ranking members, guaranteed “Opposition Days,” etc. For Bangladesh, the imperative is clear: constitutionalise the opposition. This means not only granting the opposition leader in parliament statutory status and resources but also legislating opposition chairmanship of key oversight committees, guaranteeing parliamentary time for opposition business, and forging a social contract that establishes parliament as the exclusive and effective arena for any political struggle and disagreement.
The mass uprising of 2024 was a call not merely for a change of rulers, but also for the institutionalisation of rules-based governance. The dysfunctions of the deposed regime—politicised bureaucracy, judicial paralysis, and a hollowed-out parliament—must not be reproduced under a new mandate.
Citizens want elected leaders to govern properly, a professionalised bureaucracy to implement properly, an activated judicial hierarchy to adjudicate properly, and an empowered parliamentary opposition to scrutinise properly. This architecture is essential to transform the hope of the uprising into an enduring and legitimate democracy that the people of Bangladesh rightly demand.
Dr Rashed Al Mahmud Titumir is professor in the Department of Development Studies at the University of Dhaka.
Views expressed in this article are the author’s own.