Saturday, 10 January, 2026
Bangladesh stands once again at a historic crossroads, where history, grief, and political uncertainty converge. As the nation approaches the February elections, Tarique Rahman emerges at the heart of a pivotal moment—where rupture meets possibility and the future hangs in the balance.
Across the nation, millions ask with equal measures of hope and apprehension: can he steer the country beyond dynastic politics toward growth, stability, and renewal amid profound economic and political turbulence?
For decades, the country’s politics has been shaped by dynasties, with family legacy often overpowering institutions, ideology and democratic renewal. Now, a chain of dramatic events has unsettled that familiar order: the death of former prime minister Begum Khaleda Zia, the abrupt exit of Sheikh Hasina after a popular uprising, and the return of Tarique Rahman after 17 years in exile.
Rahman, the son of Khaleda Zia and acting chairman of the BNP, is widely expected to lead his party into the February elections. His return has revived a question that millions of Bangladeshis are asking with hope and doubt in equal measure: will the country accept him, and can he lead Bangladesh towards growth and stability at a time of deep economic and political strain?
Bangladesh today is burdened by high inflation, weak investment, entrenched corruption and fragile governance. Public trust in state institutions is thin, while new political forces, including increasingly organised religious parties, are reshaping the political landscape. Against this backdrop, Rahman’s arrival has been both symbolic and unsettling.
On Christmas Day last year, as he touched the soil of his motherland for the first time since 2008, he declared, “I have a plan.” Days later, he reinforced his political stance by firmly stating that Bangladesh’s existence is inseparable from 1971, calling the Liberation War the foundation of the state and its politics, and rejecting attempts to rebrand the country as a “Second Republic” after the July 2024 uprising.
For many, these statements mattered. They reassured those who feared a reckless break with history, while raising expectations that Rahman intends to position himself not merely as a dynastic heir, but as a national leader with a wider vision. His supporters argue that he carries rare political capital: a recognisable name, a loyal party structure, and historical legitimacy that could allow him to attempt reforms that outsiders could never push through.
Yet the paradox remains unresolved. Bangladesh’s dynastic politics hollowed out internal party democracy and concentrated power within a narrow elite. Can a leader born of that system dismantle it? Critics remain sceptical. They warn that inherited authority often reproduces the same habits—patronage, intolerance of dissent and weak accountability—no matter how polished the rhetoric. Without visible institutional reform and a clear break from old networks, they argue, promises of change risk becoming symbolic gestures.
For many, these statements mattered. They reassured those who feared a reckless break with history, while raising expectations that Rahman intends to position himself not merely as a dynastic heir, but as a national leader with a wider vision. His supporters argue that he carries rare political capital: a recognisable name, a loyal party structure, and historical legitimacy that could allow him to attempt reforms that outsiders could never push through.
Rahman’s challenge is magnified by timing. The nation he left in 2008 was politically fractured; the one he has returned to is structurally compromised. Sheikh Hasina’s hurried departure ended years of authoritarian stability but left behind a damaged bureaucracy and a broken social contract. While interim authorities struggle to manage the transition, street politics is already testing formal power. In this volatility, Rahman has become a focal point for an opposition long suppressed, offering millions a renewed sense of political choice.
He appears aware that this moment demands restraint as much as ambition. His recent speeches, emphasising national unity, minority protection and the rule of law, suggest an attempt to sound like a statesman rather than a street agitator. Economically, he is likely to pursue pragmatic continuity. Bangladesh’s reliance on garment exports, remittances and foreign investment leaves little space for ideological experiments. The real test will be discipline—within his party and within the state.
Corruption looms as the greatest obstacle. Economists estimate that a significant reduction in corruption could dramatically lift growth, yet history shows how deeply corruption is rooted in Bangladesh’s political culture. Rahman’s “31-point outline for structural reforms” promises zero tolerance, a white paper on laundered money and institutional oversight mechanisms. Whether these pledges translate into action will define his credibility.
He will also face pressure from newly energised political groups. Although the Awami League is currently absent from the frontline, Islamic parties and student-led movements that helped topple Hasina are reorganising. Managing dissent through strategy rather than force will be critical. Any misstep could quickly erode his reformist image.
Corruption looms as the greatest obstacle. Economists estimate that a significant reduction in corruption could dramatically lift growth, yet history shows how deeply corruption is rooted in Bangladesh’s political culture. Rahman’s “31-point outline for structural reforms” promises zero tolerance, a white paper on laundered money and institutional oversight mechanisms. Whether these pledges translate into action will define his credibility.
Foreign policy, especially relations with India, will be another delicate test. Rahman appears to be signalling a more balanced approach, seeking to avoid both confrontation and subservience. For Bangladesh, stability depends on maintaining workable ties with its most influential neighbour without sacrificing domestic legitimacy.
Ultimately, Rahman’s return is more than a personal comeback. It is a stress test for Bangladesh’s democracy itself. After years of managed politics, uncertainty has returned—and with it, possibility. Whether Tarique Rahman uses this opening to rebuild institutions and break the cycle of dynastic rule, or merely reshapes it in new language, will determine not only his legacy, but the country’s future.
Bangladesh now waits to see whether a dynastic heir can truly become a leader of the people.
Comments
Bangladesh stands once again at a historic crossroads, where history, grief, and political uncertainty converge. As the nation approaches the February elections, Tarique Rahman emerges at the heart of a pivotal moment—where rupture meets possibility and the future hangs in the balance.
Across the nation, millions ask with equal measures of hope and apprehension: can he steer the country beyond dynastic politics toward growth, stability, and renewal amid profound economic and political turbulence?
For decades, the country’s politics has been shaped by dynasties, with family legacy often overpowering institutions, ideology and democratic renewal. Now, a chain of dramatic events has unsettled that familiar order: the death of former prime minister Begum Khaleda Zia, the abrupt exit of Sheikh Hasina after a popular uprising, and the return of Tarique Rahman after 17 years in exile.
Rahman, the son of Khaleda Zia and acting chairman of the BNP, is widely expected to lead his party into the February elections. His return has revived a question that millions of Bangladeshis are asking with hope and doubt in equal measure: will the country accept him, and can he lead Bangladesh towards growth and stability at a time of deep economic and political strain?
Bangladesh today is burdened by high inflation, weak investment, entrenched corruption and fragile governance. Public trust in state institutions is thin, while new political forces, including increasingly organised religious parties, are reshaping the political landscape. Against this backdrop, Rahman’s arrival has been both symbolic and unsettling.
On Christmas Day last year, as he touched the soil of his motherland for the first time since 2008, he declared, “I have a plan.” Days later, he reinforced his political stance by firmly stating that Bangladesh’s existence is inseparable from 1971, calling the Liberation War the foundation of the state and its politics, and rejecting attempts to rebrand the country as a “Second Republic” after the July 2024 uprising.
For many, these statements mattered. They reassured those who feared a reckless break with history, while raising expectations that Rahman intends to position himself not merely as a dynastic heir, but as a national leader with a wider vision. His supporters argue that he carries rare political capital: a recognisable name, a loyal party structure, and historical legitimacy that could allow him to attempt reforms that outsiders could never push through.
Yet the paradox remains unresolved. Bangladesh’s dynastic politics hollowed out internal party democracy and concentrated power within a narrow elite. Can a leader born of that system dismantle it? Critics remain sceptical. They warn that inherited authority often reproduces the same habits—patronage, intolerance of dissent and weak accountability—no matter how polished the rhetoric. Without visible institutional reform and a clear break from old networks, they argue, promises of change risk becoming symbolic gestures.
For many, these statements mattered. They reassured those who feared a reckless break with history, while raising expectations that Rahman intends to position himself not merely as a dynastic heir, but as a national leader with a wider vision. His supporters argue that he carries rare political capital: a recognisable name, a loyal party structure, and historical legitimacy that could allow him to attempt reforms that outsiders could never push through.
Rahman’s challenge is magnified by timing. The nation he left in 2008 was politically fractured; the one he has returned to is structurally compromised. Sheikh Hasina’s hurried departure ended years of authoritarian stability but left behind a damaged bureaucracy and a broken social contract. While interim authorities struggle to manage the transition, street politics is already testing formal power. In this volatility, Rahman has become a focal point for an opposition long suppressed, offering millions a renewed sense of political choice.
He appears aware that this moment demands restraint as much as ambition. His recent speeches, emphasising national unity, minority protection and the rule of law, suggest an attempt to sound like a statesman rather than a street agitator. Economically, he is likely to pursue pragmatic continuity. Bangladesh’s reliance on garment exports, remittances and foreign investment leaves little space for ideological experiments. The real test will be discipline—within his party and within the state.
Corruption looms as the greatest obstacle. Economists estimate that a significant reduction in corruption could dramatically lift growth, yet history shows how deeply corruption is rooted in Bangladesh’s political culture. Rahman’s “31-point outline for structural reforms” promises zero tolerance, a white paper on laundered money and institutional oversight mechanisms. Whether these pledges translate into action will define his credibility.
He will also face pressure from newly energised political groups. Although the Awami League is currently absent from the frontline, Islamic parties and student-led movements that helped topple Hasina are reorganising. Managing dissent through strategy rather than force will be critical. Any misstep could quickly erode his reformist image.
Corruption looms as the greatest obstacle. Economists estimate that a significant reduction in corruption could dramatically lift growth, yet history shows how deeply corruption is rooted in Bangladesh’s political culture. Rahman’s “31-point outline for structural reforms” promises zero tolerance, a white paper on laundered money and institutional oversight mechanisms. Whether these pledges translate into action will define his credibility.
Foreign policy, especially relations with India, will be another delicate test. Rahman appears to be signalling a more balanced approach, seeking to avoid both confrontation and subservience. For Bangladesh, stability depends on maintaining workable ties with its most influential neighbour without sacrificing domestic legitimacy.
Ultimately, Rahman’s return is more than a personal comeback. It is a stress test for Bangladesh’s democracy itself. After years of managed politics, uncertainty has returned—and with it, possibility. Whether Tarique Rahman uses this opening to rebuild institutions and break the cycle of dynastic rule, or merely reshapes it in new language, will determine not only his legacy, but the country’s future.
Bangladesh now waits to see whether a dynastic heir can truly become a leader of the people.
Comments
