If the international community allows these narratives to disappear in silence, it becomes complicit in its own oppression, it claims to abhor.

Four hours. Seriously? That’s what justice boils down to now in Bangladesh? Just four measly hours of parole for Farzana Rupa and Shakil Ahmed. Dragged through handcuff by malicious charges and failed to say goodbye to a dying mom they hadn’t met in almost a year.

Did they have adequate time for travel, attending the funeral, and returning to jail? Did anyone even stop to think what a single hour with her mom meant to Rupa?

Her mother spent her last days begging for her daughter’s release, but sure, let’s pretend that’s not the headline in Bangladesh. 

Did anyone in power spare a thought for the wreckage left behind? Punishing a Professional journalist on murder charges she had no stake on. Not just playing with her career, her family, her honour and the life of her recently deceased mother. Who will take responsibility for the death of her mother? 

A heartbreaking conversation with Rupa’s friend

Ms. Charlotte Jacquemart, a respected Swiss journalist, criticized the ongoing detention of Bangladeshi journalists Farzana Rupa and Shakil Ahmed. Her statements are direct and deeply personal, underscoring what she describes as a tragic situation impacting not only the journalists but also their families and professional circles.

Both Rupa and Ahmed have been incarcerated for ten months. During this period, they have not been granted access to proper legal representation. Jacquemart, who has a close professional and personal relationship with Farzana Rupa, noted that multiple requests for bail have been denied, even as Rupa’s mother’s health deteriorated. The lack of release prevented Rupa from providing care or support during this critical time her mother needed. 

The consequences of their detention extend beyond the prison walls. Their families, particularly minor children, are left without financial or emotional support. Jacquemart highlighted that the absence of adequate medical treatment for Rupa’s mother—stemming from the journalists’ inability to intervene—ultimately resulted in a tragic loss, as confirmed by medical professionals.

On one occasion, authorities allowed the journalists four hours of parole to visit Rupa’s dying mother. However, logistical process meant three hours were spent in travel by prison van, leaving just one hour to see her mother’s dead body.

Jacquemart asserts that the case violates both international human rights standards and Bangladeshi constitutional guarantees, specifically regarding press freedom. She also criticized the Bangladeshi Interim leadership of Noble Laureate Yunus, alleging a targeted campaign against critics—including journalists, lawyers, activists, and minorities—while convicted criminals and terrorists are released.

In her concluding remarks, Jacquemart called on Western governments to reconsider their support for the current Bangladeshi administration, suggesting that the leadership prioritizes personal power and targeted retribution over the welfare of the Bangladeshi people or adherence to democratic principles.

Why was Rupa arrested?

Farzana Rupa’s professional trajectory was anything but ordinary—she made a name for herself by tackling high-stakes, controversial topics head-on. As principal correspondent and anchor at Ekattor TV, she played a pivotal role in shaping coverage of major political controversies and social issues in Bangladesh. Her leadership extended to hosting critical debates and shedding light on human rights abuses, which inevitably attracted both public attention and, regrettably, threats from more radical groups.

Her investigative work on cases like the Pohela Boishakh sexual assaults and interviews with polarizing figures such as Taslima Nasreen garnered international recognition. This visibility, while elevating her professional profile, also exposed her to significant personal risk. Rupa was known for open support for Prime Minister in exile Sheikh Hasina during the turbulent July protests of 2024, coupled with her readiness to challenge those in power, placed her squarely in the spotlight following the change in government.

Subsequently, both she and her husband faced arrest, charged with incitement to murder, and were held without bail. Many Political observers interpret these developments as part of a broader, politically driven effort to suppress independent journalism in Bangladesh.

Rupa’s tears to the UN

Farzana Rupa made urgent appeals to the United Nations while she was detained, but, frankly, there was no timely intervention. Her family paid the price. Her mother had passed away. Will the UN acknowledge any responsibility for a loss that perhaps could have been avoided? Given that Rupa couldn’t be present, advocate for medical care, or even offer basic comfort, one must wonder about the effectiveness of these international mechanisms.

The situation raises a larger issue: will this tragedy prompt any real reflection or policy change, or will it simply fade from attention, with Rupa’s unanswered appeals lost in the noise? The lack of response speaks volumes about the current state of international accountability.

A cruel crossroad in Bangladesh

The narratives around Rupa and Ahmed highlight a deep crisis in Bangladesh – a powerful mix of political alienation and human rights degradation. Individuals become collateral damage to state strategies to nullify dissent; Their bodies and psyche serve as dark reminders of the severe cost of Journalism in an increasingly authoritarian means. Government tactics, remnants of authoritarian regimes around the world, show a worrying model of governance based on the oppression. 

Farzana Rupa and Shakil Ahmed are like symbols. They are faces that marked a scenario of overwhelming darkness. They force us to examine not only their unfortunate circumstances, but to confront the systemic injustices that permeate Bangladesh’s political scenario. Their stories are a call of duty to global citizens, reminding them that true democracy cannot exist when dissent is criminalized.

If the international community allows these narratives to disappear in silence, it becomes complicit in its own oppression, it claims to abhor. A collective awakening for twin tragedies, though deeply personal, illuminates a much greater evil: the erosion of human dignity by another Noble laureate. 

Disclaimer: Views expressed by writers in this section are their own and do not reflect Milli Chronicle’s point-of-view.

Bangladeshi democracy has always been a bit of a balancing act—it’s fragile, often disputed, and shaped by deep mistrust among the parties involved.

Yunus stepped in like a hero after Sheikh Hasina’s narrow safe exit. Seriously, why Yunus though? Sure, that Nobel Prize glow—“banker to the poor,” all very inspirational. But running a whole country? That’s a bit out of his usual comfort zone, isn’t it? Critics aren’t buying his résumé for democracy. He’s got a squeaky-clean political record, yeah, but there’s the tiny problem of zero political success, too.

Did any of that bother the crowd of fired-up July protesters celebrating him? Or the business bigwigs who just wanted things to stabilize for a minute? Doubt it. People were desperate for any kind of shake-up. Someone new. Yunus just fit through the vibe—calm, politically unknown, totally untested on the big stage. Yunus on many occasions on International and National Media, claimed he or his cabinet has no plans to ban Awami League. He has gone to the extent that it is up to Awami League if they want to participate or not, yet Awami League activities were repressively banned without any referendum.

Islamists, NCP stage ‘Mist Spray’ protest in Summer to ban Awami league?

Awami League-oldest, secular, the party that led Bangladesh to freedom. But now, its legacy is questioned. Sheikh Hasina, the longest serving female Prime Minister, once stood in parliament and called Yunus the “Blood Sucker of the poor”. Now, the tables have turned. The UN’s fact-finding report blamed Hasina, her party, and security forces for the deaths of at least 1,400 people during the 2024 protests-children among the victims, crimes against humanity, said the report. Awami League pushed back: the report lacked their side, relied on unnamed witnesses and many more accusations. But who listens to the Awami League now? The UN’s word carries more weight, its credibility unshaken in the global court of opinion.

Protests went on for days, with people demanding that the Awami League be banned. The crowd was a bit of a weird mix — Islamists like Mufti Jasimuddin Rahmani, Asif Adnan, Hizbut Tahrir, Jamaat-e-Islami, and Hefazot-e-Islam all shouting for the party to be shut down. Some wondered if this was a real uprising or just a show put on by the government. Some said the ultimatum to Yunus wasn’t genuine, just a way to make the ban look legit.

Yet, Yunus, now acting as the caretaker, ordered a gentle mist spray at the summer camps — basically keeping the protesters hydrated, not firing bullets. Did that cool things down or just buy some time? The protesters weren’t all in agreement about singing the National Anthem. Some felt uncomfortable with singing it because it was written by Rabindranath Tagore, many referred to him as Hindu despite him being from the Brahma Samaj. The protest interestingly wasn’t joined by BNP, other centrist, leftist parties but the newly formed student party NCP looked like they were a cover to the Islamists.

Is Banning Awami league a legitimate move?

Some argue that banning the Awami League because, as the ruling party, it ordered killings and human rights abuses—many of its members carried out these acts—seems understandable on some level. However, doing so amounts to punishing the party collectively, which is problematic. International human rights laws and criminal justice principles emphasize that responsibility should be based on individual actions, not on group membership. Punishing the entire party ignores this important rule and can lead to more harm. History shows that punishing groups doesn’t stop violence; instead, it often fuels cycles of revenge, pushes authoritarian measures, and weakens efforts for real justice and reconciliation in transitioning societies.

Comparing Bangladesh’s current situation to transitional justice processes in places like South Africa after apartheid, Liberia following its conflict, or Bosnia is not quite accurate. Those scenarios involved extreme events like genocide, ethnic cleansing, or civil war. While Bangladesh faces serious challenges, it doesn’t meet the legal criteria for mass atrocities to that extent that would justify drastic measures like dissolving political parties. Even in those extreme cases, restrictions on political participation were used sparingly, temporarily, and often with international oversight or as part of negotiated agreements. So far, Bangladesh hasn’t experienced the kind of broad consensus or legal process needed to meet that high threshold. Also, frameworks like South Africa’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission were designed specifically for their contexts and weren’t meant to be general models for banning political parties in countries trying to rebuild democracy after authoritarian rule.

The UN Fact Finding report also simply mentions that elements connected to the party actively supported the repression. This makes you wonder: how much was the party involved in the violence? Recommendation 370 of the Office of the UN High Commissioner of Human Rights, Fact Finding report into the Bangladesh July/August killings state to refrain from banning political parties that would undermine genuine return to a multi-party democracy. Although, the report doesn’t qualify as a legal verdict, yet the report was unjustly cited by the interim to oppress, torture, imprison and attack on Awami League activities. The attacks happened with both law enforcement and mobs, sometimes through a mixture of both. After the forced resignation of Chief Justice through forced anarchy inside court premises and treating Awami League activists without ‘Innocent until Proven guilty’ shows the reality. The fairness of judiciary and trials are being questioned, many believe the verdict is ready and interim is just buying time for retribution.

The Amendment to repressive Anti-Terrorism Act

The newest update to the Anti-Terrorism Act really hits hard against free speech and the right to protest. First off, now the government can ‘temporarily suspend’ any group they suspect of being involved in terrorist activities, on top of their previous power to ‘prohibit’ an organization under Section 18. These powers, which previously only applied to prohibited groups under Section 20, now extend automatically to those that are suspended.

This means they can shut down offices, freeze bank accounts and assets, stop members from leaving the country, seize belongings, and even ban any public support or displays of solidarity for the group. Basically, the government can now quickly neutralize a party or organization with just a ‘temporary suspension,’ without having to go through the more permanent ‘prohibition’ process. But here’s the catch—how long does a ‘temporary’ suspension last? The law doesn’t say so, so in practice, it could go on forever, even if they call it temporary.

On top of that, they’ve massively expanded their power to prevent people from supporting or advocating for these groups under Section 20(e). It now clearly states that publishing statements, promoting online or through social media, or organizing marches, meetings, or press events in favor of or supporting the group is strictly forbidden. It’s an alarming step up in control, with serious implications for anyone speaking out or showing support.

Why Banning without referendum?

The Awami League, Bangladesh’s oldest and most influential party, was banned by the interim government without holding a referendum, even though surveys by Voice of America and others showed that most Bangladeshis didn’t support such a ban. While the interim authorities justified this move by citing the Anti-Terrorism Act and mentioning ongoing investigations into alleged crimes by Awami League leaders, they didn’t seek any direct public approval or hold a plebiscite. This has raised questions about whether the move really reflects democratic legitimacy.

Although the Awami League has faced serious accusations of electoral misconduct in the elections of 2014, 2018, and 2024, it has previously won allegedly free elections under caretaker governments, which shows it has broad support. In this case, it seems to be a victim of exclusion by an interim administration that has never gone to the electorate, not even at the local council level.

Gloomy path towards transition

Bangladeshi democracy has always been a bit of a balancing act—it’s fragile, often disputed, and shaped by deep mistrust among the parties involved. The accusations against the Awami League, whether it’s about election rigging or acting too heavy-handed, aren’t something new; they reflect a broader political culture where holding onto power sometimes seems more important than following the process.

Under the ban, millions of Awami League voter’s political rights are pretty much gone. Any kind of support for the Awami League—whether you say it out loud, write about it, or post online—could be considered a crime. Even just social meetings peacefully with other supporters might get you arrested. Prior to the ban, Bangladesh recently went multiple notches downward in the democratic index by the Economist Intelligence Unit (EIU).

Disclaimer: Views expressed by writers in this section are their own and do not reflect Milli Chronicle’s point-of-view.