Monday, 20 October, 2025
With the February national election fast approaching, Bangladesh’s political chessboard is shifting once again — this time over a single, divisive idea: proportional representation. What began as a technical proposal has exploded into a battle over the soul of democracy, drawing sharp lines between reform and manipulation, inclusion and control.
National Citizens Party (NCP) Convener Nahid Islam, a veteran of the July Revolution 2024, ignited the latest political storm on Sunday by denouncing Jamaat-e-Islami’s so-called “Proportional Representation (PR) Movement.” He branded it a “calculated act of political deception” designed to derail the Consensus Commission’s reform process, which is now steering the country’s fragile transition toward democracy.
In a blistering Facebook post, Nahid accused Jamaat of trying to hijack the national reform discourse by “diverting attention from the real task — restructuring the state and constitution in line with the people’s uprising.” He argued that the genuine reform agenda, including a proposal to create an Upper House based on proportional representation, was meant to function as a constitutional safeguard under the July National Charter, not a political bargaining chip for partisan gain.
“Jamaat and its allies have reduced a profound reform vision to a technical gimmick. Their motive was never reform — it was manipulation,” Nahid wrote, accusing the Islamist party of infiltrating the Consensus Commission “as political saboteurs masquerading as reformists.”
In his post, the NCP leader also issued a moral warning: “The people of Bangladesh now clearly understand this deception. Neither the Almighty nor the sovereign people of this land will permit dishonest, opportunistic, and morally bankrupt forces to rule over them.”
His remarks have reignited a simmering national debate that has turned the PR system — a common electoral model in several parliamentary democracies — into one of the most contentious political flashpoints in Bangladesh’s transition period. At its heart lies a question far greater than electoral design: who truly represents the people — party elites or the voters themselves?
Under a proportional representation system, parliamentary seats are distributed based on the percentage of national votes won by each party rather than by constituency contests. Proponents argue that PR creates fairer, more inclusive parliaments by allowing smaller parties to gain a voice. But in Bangladesh’s volatile context, critics see danger in the details. They warn that the system could empower party hierarchies, erode the bond between citizens and their representatives, and transform parliament into a stage dominated by political dealmaking instead of public accountability.
The debate flared further when BNP Secretary General Mirza Fakhrul Islam Alamgir on October 12 reiterated his party’s rejection of PR, asserting that “the people of Bangladesh overwhelmingly prefer direct elections.” Speaking at a memorial meeting organised by the Nationalist Like-minded Alliance at the Dhaka Reporters Unity, Fakhrul accused Jamaat and a handful of smaller parties of “pushing an imported formula” that serves their narrow ambitions rather than the national interest.
He warned that the PR system “alienates voters from accountability” and risks turning MPs into creatures of party commands rather than people’s representatives. “The people want to vote directly for their leaders — not through a complex arithmetic that political elites can manipulate,” Fakhrul said, echoing public frustration with political engineering after years of authoritarian drift.
The controversy comes at a moment of historic fragility. Bangladesh is emerging from what opposition groups call a 15-year period of authoritarian rule, and the interim government led by Nobel laureate Dr Muhammad Yunus has placed electoral reform at the centre of its mission to restore public trust. The National Consensus Commission, which Yunus chairs, is expected to finalise its reform proposals on October 17, setting the stage for an election that could redefine the country’s political order.
For many within the pro-reform bloc, however, Jamaat’s sudden enthusiasm for PR reeks of political opportunism. Once sidelined from mainstream politics, the party now sees in PR a potential mathematical shortcut to power — a way to secure seats in parliament without building genuine public support. Political analysts argue that for such groups, PR offers survival, not reform.
Nahid’s attack has therefore struck a nerve. His accusation that Jamaat seeks to “derail the reform process” resonates with those who fear that the fragile unity forged after the July Uprising could fracture under the weight of tactical politics.
The BNP’s opposition to PR also reveals a deeper philosophical divide. For Fakhrul and his allies, democracy is not a numbers game — it’s a relationship of trust between the voter and the representative. PR, they argue, severs that bond, turning representatives into products of party lists rather than voices of the people.
Supporters of PR frame it differently — as a modern, inclusive model suited for multiparty politics. Yet, in a nation still recovering from decades of centralised power and broken accountability, critics say that “modernisation” must not become a mask for manipulation.
As the February election nears, the stakes have rarely been higher. Bangladesh now faces a defining choice: to strengthen direct representation and preserve voter sovereignty, or to experiment with a system that may centralise power in the hands of party elites.
Mirza Fakhrul’s caution rings loud: “We cannot afford to lose this moment. The opportunity to rebuild democracy must not be wasted on political experiments.” His words echo a national sentiment — that democracy in Bangladesh is not an abstract idea but a hard-earned right that must be defended from both authoritarianism and opportunism alike.
Ultimately, the proportional representation debate has become far more than a matter of electoral arithmetic. It is a struggle over meaning — a test of whether Bangladesh’s long-promised democratic renewal will be driven by the people’s will or consumed by political deception.
As the nation edges toward February, one thing is certain: the battle between PR and direct representation is no longer just about ballots and seats. It is about truth and trust — and about whether Bangladesh’s next election will mark a new dawn of democracy or a new disguise for the old politics of control.
Comments
With the February national election fast approaching, Bangladesh’s political chessboard is shifting once again — this time over a single, divisive idea: proportional representation. What began as a technical proposal has exploded into a battle over the soul of democracy, drawing sharp lines between reform and manipulation, inclusion and control.
National Citizens Party (NCP) Convener Nahid Islam, a veteran of the July Revolution 2024, ignited the latest political storm on Sunday by denouncing Jamaat-e-Islami’s so-called “Proportional Representation (PR) Movement.” He branded it a “calculated act of political deception” designed to derail the Consensus Commission’s reform process, which is now steering the country’s fragile transition toward democracy.
In a blistering Facebook post, Nahid accused Jamaat of trying to hijack the national reform discourse by “diverting attention from the real task — restructuring the state and constitution in line with the people’s uprising.” He argued that the genuine reform agenda, including a proposal to create an Upper House based on proportional representation, was meant to function as a constitutional safeguard under the July National Charter, not a political bargaining chip for partisan gain.
“Jamaat and its allies have reduced a profound reform vision to a technical gimmick. Their motive was never reform — it was manipulation,” Nahid wrote, accusing the Islamist party of infiltrating the Consensus Commission “as political saboteurs masquerading as reformists.”
In his post, the NCP leader also issued a moral warning: “The people of Bangladesh now clearly understand this deception. Neither the Almighty nor the sovereign people of this land will permit dishonest, opportunistic, and morally bankrupt forces to rule over them.”
His remarks have reignited a simmering national debate that has turned the PR system — a common electoral model in several parliamentary democracies — into one of the most contentious political flashpoints in Bangladesh’s transition period. At its heart lies a question far greater than electoral design: who truly represents the people — party elites or the voters themselves?
Under a proportional representation system, parliamentary seats are distributed based on the percentage of national votes won by each party rather than by constituency contests. Proponents argue that PR creates fairer, more inclusive parliaments by allowing smaller parties to gain a voice. But in Bangladesh’s volatile context, critics see danger in the details. They warn that the system could empower party hierarchies, erode the bond between citizens and their representatives, and transform parliament into a stage dominated by political dealmaking instead of public accountability.
The debate flared further when BNP Secretary General Mirza Fakhrul Islam Alamgir on October 12 reiterated his party’s rejection of PR, asserting that “the people of Bangladesh overwhelmingly prefer direct elections.” Speaking at a memorial meeting organised by the Nationalist Like-minded Alliance at the Dhaka Reporters Unity, Fakhrul accused Jamaat and a handful of smaller parties of “pushing an imported formula” that serves their narrow ambitions rather than the national interest.
He warned that the PR system “alienates voters from accountability” and risks turning MPs into creatures of party commands rather than people’s representatives. “The people want to vote directly for their leaders — not through a complex arithmetic that political elites can manipulate,” Fakhrul said, echoing public frustration with political engineering after years of authoritarian drift.
The controversy comes at a moment of historic fragility. Bangladesh is emerging from what opposition groups call a 15-year period of authoritarian rule, and the interim government led by Nobel laureate Dr Muhammad Yunus has placed electoral reform at the centre of its mission to restore public trust. The National Consensus Commission, which Yunus chairs, is expected to finalise its reform proposals on October 17, setting the stage for an election that could redefine the country’s political order.
For many within the pro-reform bloc, however, Jamaat’s sudden enthusiasm for PR reeks of political opportunism. Once sidelined from mainstream politics, the party now sees in PR a potential mathematical shortcut to power — a way to secure seats in parliament without building genuine public support. Political analysts argue that for such groups, PR offers survival, not reform.
Nahid’s attack has therefore struck a nerve. His accusation that Jamaat seeks to “derail the reform process” resonates with those who fear that the fragile unity forged after the July Uprising could fracture under the weight of tactical politics.
The BNP’s opposition to PR also reveals a deeper philosophical divide. For Fakhrul and his allies, democracy is not a numbers game — it’s a relationship of trust between the voter and the representative. PR, they argue, severs that bond, turning representatives into products of party lists rather than voices of the people.
Supporters of PR frame it differently — as a modern, inclusive model suited for multiparty politics. Yet, in a nation still recovering from decades of centralised power and broken accountability, critics say that “modernisation” must not become a mask for manipulation.
As the February election nears, the stakes have rarely been higher. Bangladesh now faces a defining choice: to strengthen direct representation and preserve voter sovereignty, or to experiment with a system that may centralise power in the hands of party elites.
Mirza Fakhrul’s caution rings loud: “We cannot afford to lose this moment. The opportunity to rebuild democracy must not be wasted on political experiments.” His words echo a national sentiment — that democracy in Bangladesh is not an abstract idea but a hard-earned right that must be defended from both authoritarianism and opportunism alike.
Ultimately, the proportional representation debate has become far more than a matter of electoral arithmetic. It is a struggle over meaning — a test of whether Bangladesh’s long-promised democratic renewal will be driven by the people’s will or consumed by political deception.
As the nation edges toward February, one thing is certain: the battle between PR and direct representation is no longer just about ballots and seats. It is about truth and trust — and about whether Bangladesh’s next election will mark a new dawn of democracy or a new disguise for the old politics of control.
Comments
