Bangladesh at a crossroads: Why BNP must avoid Yunus’s mistakes

In a sham election barring the largest and founding political party in Bangladesh, the Awami League, through a controversial national election on 12 February 2026, the Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP) formed the government, making their age-old partner Jamaat-e-Islami the opposition in Parliament.

Earlier, on 10 May 2025, following a staged mob show backed by the government, the interim government of Bangladesh led by Muhammad Yunus passed an amendment to the Anti-Terrorism Act 2009 through an ordinance. The activities of the Bangladesh Awami League were suspended based on the amended law until the trial of its leaders was completed before the International Crimes Tribunal.

Immediately, the Election Commission suspended the registration of the party, and based on this suspension the Awami League was barred from participating in the 2026 national election. By doing so, the interim government, its appointed Election Commission, BNP and Jamaat-e-Islami worked in collusion to violate the constitutionally protected right to freedom of association and effectively disenfranchised a large segment of the population.

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With the BNP government now formed, the President has called the first session of Parliament to take place on 12 March 2026. Against this background, the central question before the nation is whether BNP will continue its legacy of historical mistakes of backing and ratifying undemocratic norms, indemnifying crimes, and enabling human rights violations.

This moment is not without historical resonance. The BNP’s political trajectory contains repeated instances where temporary political advantage was pursued at the cost of constitutional principle. The most striking example remains the ratification of the Indemnity Ordinance 1975 through the Fifth Amendment to the Constitution.

That amendment entrenched legal protection for the killers of the Father of the Nation, Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, and most members of his family. More troublingly, the BNP did not merely inherit that framework. It later actively resisted efforts aimed at repealing the indemnity structure that shielded one of the gravest crimes in the history of Bangladesh. The constitutional order was used not to secure accountability but to prevent it.

The pattern continued. The Operation Joint Drives Immunity Act 2003 extended protection to state actors against legal scrutiny for serious human rights violations committed during security operations. That legislation again reflected a political choice to prioritise impunity over the rule of law. The Supreme Court of Bangladesh subsequently declared both indemnity frameworks unconstitutional, reaffirming a core constitutional principle that Parliament cannot legitimise impunity for serious crimes. Yet the historical record remains clear: BNP repeatedly used legislative power to ratify exceptional measures that undermined accountability and weakened constitutional guarantees.

Alongside these legislative choices stands the darkest political episode of that period. The 21 August grenade attack targeted an opposition rally of the Awami League in what was widely recognised as an attempt to cripple the opposition and reshape the political landscape through violence. That incident symbolised the dangers of normalising political exclusion. It demonstrated how the erosion of constitutional norms often precedes attempts to remove political competitors from democratic contestation. Consequently, the people of Bangladesh clearly rejected the BNP for eighteen long years.

The first session of the Thirteenth Parliament now places the BNP before a similar constitutional crossroads. Article 93 requires that all ordinances promulgated by the interim government be laid before Parliament. If they are not approved within thirty days of being placed, they automatically lapse. Among these ordinances are the amendment to the Anti-Terrorism Act that enabled the suspension of the Awami League and the July Uprising Ordinance that introduces sweeping indemnity provisions. The constitutional question is therefore unavoidable. Will BNP once again ratify extraordinary measures that legitimise exclusion, indemnify wrongdoing, and weaken democratic competition, or will it allow these ordinances to expire and restore constitutional balance?

This question acquires greater significance because the BNP now holds a supermajority exceeding two-thirds of Parliament. With such a mandate comes heightened constitutional responsibility. A supermajority can be used to stabilise democratic institutions or to entrench exceptional powers. The decision to ratify or reject these ordinances will reveal whether parliamentary dominance will be exercised with constitutional restraint or with apparent majoritarian vengeance.

The suspension of the Awami League itself raises serious legal concerns. The prohibition relies on an amended anti-terrorism framework that conflates allegations against individuals with collective punishment of a political organisation. This approach is inconsistent with constitutional protections of association, political participation, due process, and equality before the law. The measure lacks proportionality, imposes indefinite political consequences pending unresolved proceedings, and effectively disenfranchises millions of citizens whose political identity is linked to the party. International human rights law, including standards under the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, treats party bans as extreme measures permissible only under strict necessity, clear evidence, and robust judicial safeguards. The suspension order does not satisfy these thresholds.

The July Uprising Ordinance raises an equally serious rule-of-law problem. By introducing broad indemnity provisions for acts committed in the context of political unrest, it risks shielding individuals from accountability for violence, destruction of property, and human rights violations. Reports indicate that these protections primarily benefit activists associated with Jamaat and the National Citizens Party. If Parliament ratifies such an ordinance, it would repeat a familiar pattern in which political actors receive retrospective immunity while victims are denied justice. The constitutional order cannot sustain selective accountability without eroding its legitimacy.

Taken together, these measures create a coherent but troubling legal architecture. One ordinance removes a major political party from democratic competition. Another potentially shields political actors from accountability for violence. Ratifying both would signal acceptance of a political model in which exclusion and indemnity operate simultaneously. That model has appeared before in Bangladesh’s history, and each time it has weakened democratic institutions rather than stabilised them.

The test before the BNP is therefore historical as much as constitutional. With a supermajority, the BNP possesses the power to transform temporary executive measures into permanent statutory reality. It can normalise party proscription through security law. It can legitimise indemnity regimes. Or it can choose restraint and allow these extraordinary measures to lapse, reaffirming that democratic legitimacy must be determined through electoral competition rather than administrative prohibition.

Parliament is not merely a legislative chamber at this moment. It is the constitutional checkpoint designed to prevent exceptional executive power from hardening into ordinary law. The decision taken within the thirty-day window will shape not only the fate of a single party but the boundaries of political exclusion in Bangladesh for years to come.

The BNP’s history shows the consequences of repeating constitutional mistakes. Indemnity laws were later struck down. Attempts to weaken the opposition ultimately damaged democratic credibility. The present moment offers an opportunity to depart from that legacy.

The warning is therefore clear. Ratifying these ordinances would extend a lineage of political decisions that privileged expediency over constitutional principle and exclusion over competition. Allowing them to lapse would signal a commitment to democratic pluralism and the rule of law.

History does not demand repetition. It demands judgement. The question before the BNP is whether it will once again choose the path of indemnity and exclusion, or whether it will break from that legacy and allow the Constitution to prevail.

(The writer is president, Bangladesh Students’ League [Student wing of Bangladesh Awami League]. Views expressed in the above piece are personal and solely those of the author. They do not necessarily reflect Firstpost’s views.)