M A Hossain,
Politics in Bangladesh has rarely been a gentle craft. It has been a battlefield. Victory has meant annihilation. Defeat has meant persecution. For decades, the culture was simple: win at all costs, govern without mercy, and prepare for revenge. The result was predictable — cycles of bitterness, institutional decay, and a democracy that existed more in speeches than in spirit.
But moments arrive in history when a leader is handed not merely power, but an opportunity to redefine a nation’s political character. Tarique Rahman now stands at such a moment.
The mass uprising of August 5, 2024, which led to the ouster of Sheikh Hasina’s government, was not merely a political transition. It was an eruption of public exhaustion. It signaled that Bangladeshis were tired of institutional weaponization, tired of partisan vengeance, tired of politics that felt less like governance and more like perpetual civil war. The landslide victory of the Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP), securing 209 seats, was not simply an electoral triumph. It was a national plea for reset. And resets require statesmanship.
There are times when political leaders must look less like tacticians and more like healers. This is one of those times. Tarique Rahman would do well to look toward the example of Nelson Mandela. Mandela inherited a nation on the brink — fractured by race, scarred by imprisonment, poisoned by resentment. He had every moral justification for vengeance. Instead, he chose reconciliation. He understood a profound truth: justice without forgiveness becomes another form of oppression.
Bangladesh, though different in context, faces a parallel psychological crossroads. After years of confrontation politics, after the institutional lapses and excesses that defined previous administrations, there is understandable anger. But anger, if institutionalized, will only reproduce the very system that citizens rejected.
History offers another example closer to home. General Ziaur Rahman, after the turmoil of the mid-1970s, did not govern through perpetual purges. He sought political normalization. He opened political space. He reintroduced multiparty democracy. Whatever one’s partisan assessment of his legacy, he recognized that nations fractured by upheaval cannot survive on retribution alone. They require integration.
The father sought unity after instability. The son now faces a similar test. The recent courtesy calls by Tarique Rahman on others political contenders were more than symbolic gestures. In a country where leaders rarely visit rivals except to denounce them, such meetings carry cultural weight. They signal that electoral victory does not translate into moral monopoly. They hint at a shift from “winner-takes-all” to “winner-leads-all.”
His public warning against revenge politics was equally significant. Words matter in transitional periods. They can either inflame or stabilize. By urging party workers to avoid conflict and emphasizing that the victory belongs to democracy — not merely to the BNP — Tarique Rahman positioned himself above partisan triumphalism. That is the language of a statesman, not merely a victor.
But gestures, while important, must mature into institutions. Bangladesh now needs a formal reconciliation process. Not a theatrical commission designed to embarrass opponents. Not selective accountability. A genuine, structured national dialogue aimed at repairing trust between parties, strengthening institutional independence, and defining rules of democratic competition that survive changes in power.
The world offers ample precedents. South Africa’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission prevented civil war. Rwanda, after genocide, used community-based justice mechanisms to rebuild social cohesion. Even in Latin America, post-authoritarian governments have balanced accountability with political reintegration. The lesson is not that past wrongs should be ignored. It is that societies must decide whether punishment or stability will be their organizing principle.
After a mass uprising, wisdom lies in drawing a line — not to erase history, but to prevent history from consuming the future. Institutional lapses must be corrected through reform, not revenge. Oversight must replace obstruction. Parliament must become a chamber of argument, not a theatre of vendetta.
There are encouraging signs. Jamaat-e-Islami’s pledge to act as a “strong opposition” rather than an obstructive one hints at political maturation. The political climate itself is shifting. Citizens, particularly the younger generation who powered the uprising, are less patient with old hostilities. They demand governance, not drama.
Yet the temptation of retribution will linger. Supporters who suffered during previous administrations will demand repayment. Political activists accustomed to confrontation may resist moderation. Here lies the true test of leadership: the ability to disappoint one’s most fervent supporters for the sake of national stability.
Mandela did it. He risked alienating radicals within his own movement. Ziaur Rahman did it in his own way, prioritizing normalization over prolonged purges. Tarique Rahman must now decide whether he wishes to be remembered as a partisan victor or a national unifier.
Unity does not mean ideological surrender. It means establishing a political culture where disagreement is fierce but not existential. Where opposition is respected, not criminalized. Where elections determine power, but institutions limit its abuse.
A reconciliation framework could include cross-party constitutional dialogue, judicial reforms to ensure neutrality, depoliticization of administrative bodies, and protections for peaceful dissent. These are not abstract ideals. They are safeguards against the relapse into authoritarian reflexes.
Bangladesh stands at the edge of a new dawn. The uprising dismantled a regime. The election produced a mandate. But mandates are burdens, not trophies. They demand restraint in victory and magnanimity in power.
If Tarique Rahman embraces the mantle of unity — if he becomes a symbol of forgiveness, prospect, and democratic maturity — he will not merely lead a government. He will reshape the political grammar of the republic. And that would be a legacy far greater than 209 seats in parliament. The alternative is depressingly familiar: renewed cycles of accusation, institutional weaponization, and the slow erosion of public trust. Bangladesh has walked that road before. It ends nowhere.
A new democratic Bangladesh requires courage of a different kind — not the courage to fight, but the courage to forgive; not the instinct to dominate, but the discipline to reconcile. History occasionally gives leaders a Mandela moment. It is rare. It is fragile. And it does not wait forever. Tarique Rahman now has one. The question is whether he will seize it.
M A Hossain, political and defense analyst based in Bangladesh. He can be reached at: writetomahossain@gmail.com
This article published at :
1. New Age, BD : 21 February, 26