A Conversation That Foretold the Crisis

In early 2024, I met X, a Bangladeshi lawyer, in Kolkata. Polished, articulate, and confident, she was there to help organise a World Bengali Congress. Yet beneath her composed demeanour lay deep anxiety about her country’s future. Under Sheikh Hasina, she felt Bangladesh had stagnated—crippled by corruption, nepotism, and political exhaustion. Change, she insisted, was essential.

But she was equally certain about what should not replace Hasina’s rule. The Bangladesh National Party, allied with Jamaat-i-Islami, offered no progressive alternative. Such an alliance, she warned, would be disastrous for women and minorities. X spoke not as a distant observer but as someone who had legally challenged Jamaat members for their anti-national and anti-women activities. Despite being on the group’s hit list, she continued to live and work in Dhaka, trusting that the rule of law would protect her.

The ‘Third Alternative’ That Brought Hope

In August 2024, a dramatic political shift occurred. Following mass unrest, Sheikh Hasina’s government fell, and an interim administration led by Nobel Peace Prize laureate Mohammed Yunus took charge. Though this was not the alternative many had imagined, it sparked cautious optimism. Perhaps this was the reset Bangladesh needed.

That optimism did not last long.

Within months, X quietly fled the country, fearing for her safety. Her departure became a telling indicator of how rapidly conditions were deteriorating.

From Political Change to Religious Radicalism

Initial chaos following an uprising is not unusual. What followed in Bangladesh, however, went far beyond transitional instability. Instead of curbing extremist forces, the Yunus-led government appeared to enable them.

Under Hasina, groups like Jamaat had been tightly controlled, allowing activists and lawyers to challenge them in courts. The new regime reversed this approach. Jamaat-linked prisoners were released, the ban on the organisation was lifted, and radical groups began openly regrouping within the country. Jamaat was eventually recognised as a political party and is now poised to contest elections, potentially emerging as the dominant force in the absence of the Awami League.

Women as the First Casualties

Women were among the earliest and worst affected by this shift.

Renowned actress Rokeya Prachi, a three-time National Award winner, describes Bangladesh as rapidly sliding towards conditions reminiscent of Afghanistan. Speaking from an undisclosed location, she says daily life has become unbearable for women. Vigilante groups patrol streets enforcing dress codes, harassing and attacking women not wearing hijabs or burqas. Sexual violence—particularly against women perceived as Awami League supporters—has become disturbingly routine, often recorded and circulated publicly.

Prachi herself was assaulted on August 15, 2024, while paying tribute to Sheikh Mujibur Rahman on his martyrdom day. Other women present were also harassed. No arrests followed. She has since gone underground.

Moral Policing Enters Everyday Life

This moral surveillance is not limited to politically active women. Ordinary citizens are increasingly targeted.

In March, a female student at Dhaka University was harassed by a university employee over her clothing. Though briefly arrested, he was released after protests by Towhidi Janata, a Jamaat ally. In November, a bus conductor physically assaulted a student who objected to his lewd comments about her attire. More recently, a viral video showed a man berating a woman for not wearing a hijab, declaring that Bangladesh being a Muslim country left her with no choice.

The violence has escalated beyond intimidation. A female journalist was raped in March, highlighting the growing impunity enjoyed by perpetrators.

Alarming Data, Deafening Silence

Human rights group Ain O Salish Kendra recorded 96 rape cases in just January and February last year, including assaults on disabled women and those from minority communities. While attacks on religious minorities have drawn international attention, the widespread suffering of women has largely gone unnoticed.

A July 2025 Human Rights Watch report warned of a sharp rise in mob violence, political intimidation, and harassment of journalists by religious hardliners hostile to women’s and LGBTQ rights.

Rolling Back Years of Progress

A female trade unionist who has sought temporary asylum in India says Bangladesh’s streets are slowly emptying of women. Gains achieved over the past decade—particularly in maternal health, female workforce participation, and overall gender indicators—are being dismantled.

Radical clerics now openly question whether women should work at all. Some insist women may only work if permitted by husbands or male guardians. Following the quota agitation that triggered regime change, all job reservations for women were scrapped. Women’s electoral quotas have reportedly been withdrawn as well.

A proposed women’s reform bill, drafted by a committee appointed by the interim government itself, was shelved after nationwide Islamist protests claiming it violated Sharia law.

The Price of Political Compromise

Many observers believe the Yunus administration has willingly sanctioned this regression to appease Islamist allies. The cost of this political bargain is becoming painfully clear.

Bangladesh’s democratic promise, its social fabric, and its hard-won progress on gender equality are being eroded. Women are paying the highest price.