A quarter into the twenty-first century, global democracy is facing one of its most precarious moments in decades. Since the turn of the century, democracy appears to be in decline, even in nations that have long advocated for spreading democracy abroad. Capitalizing on anxieties over demographic change and inequality, leaders from the United States to India, from Hong Kong to Egypt have consolidated their power while attacking free speech, independent media, minority rights, and democratic institutions. Populist movements have advanced ethnonationalist agendas that erode pluralism and weaken the principle of equal human dignity. The oft-repeated refrain these days is that societies are more divided than ever, even in relatively demographically homogeneous nations. In countries that were once united under an umbrella of unity in diversity, that common ground has steadily crumbled.
Yet this era of regression has also sparked anti-authoritarian resistance. In countries with fragile or interrupted democratic histories, citizens are asserting their democratic aspirations with renewed urgency. These countries provide both hope and caution for democratic recovery and renewal. Notably, strong resistance is coming from youth and minoritized groups. In Nepal, Madagascar, Bangladesh, and Serbia, youth have led a charge against autocratic regimes that have suppressed their rights and futures. Whereas the #MeToo movement resonated largely in democracies where women expected accountability through legal means, the call for Women, Life, Freedom opposes autocratic regimes and repressive norms – in Iran, Afghanistan, Turkey, and Iraq — with women and men taking great risk in doing so.
But while youth and women in the Global South are pushing against repressive regimes, the outlook for LGBTQ+ communities, immigrants, and ethnic minorities is discouraging. It is well-documented that the persecution of LGBTQ+ is linked to democratic erosion, as evident in the UK and US where oppressive anti-LGBTQ+ policies are being enacted, reversing earlier gains. Anger toward immigrants – portrayed as reaping economic benefits while citizens languish in poverty and diminished opportunities – has been stoked by political actors for their own gain. In many countries, violence and hateful rhetoric against these groups have risen precipitously.
Amidst these opposing pulls toward and away from democracy, Bangladesh stands out as a critical case. In July 2024, after fifteen years of an increasingly authoritarian – but initially democratically elected – Awami League rule, a youth-led mass uprising toppled a regime that had systematically curtailed expression, criminalized dissent, and silenced journalists, writers, and activists. A year and half later, in February 2026, the nation had its parliamentary elections, largely considered a peaceful, fair, and significant event. Although the turnout was lower than hoped, many voters were jubilant; it was youth’s first time at the poles. Now, the victorious BNP has taken up the mantle for leading the country forward.
The country faces a pivotal moment. A young nation with a very long history, Bangladesh seems to be in a perpetual state of “transitioning” and “becoming.” Since independence, it has experienced one-party rule, military coups, a presidential system created to legitimize military authority, and parliamentary elections. The nation has experienced the assassination of political leaders, prolonged military rule, democratic beginnings, and a steady erosion into authoritarianism. These decades have seen extreme political polarization, the silencing of opposition, hartals, and the banning of political parties. The possibility of establishing democracy has been created repeatedly, and repeatedly it has failed.
Part of that failure is structural, but part of it is cultural. Political parties and their leaders have long practiced a feudal style of politics, offering patronage and cultivating dependency rather than rights and dignity. Religion has been used by politicians across parties as a divisive tool of divide-and-rule and to increase their own political power. Meanwhile, Islamist groups and movements have steadily strengthened, and there has been an increase in various extremist groups.
The consequences have accumulated over time. Corruption has spread across institutions, fed by political failure, militarization, and the absence of meaningful accountability. Labor movements and left politics have remained too weak to build a genuine rights-based counterweight. Meanwhile, increased public religiosity has come at the cost of social tolerance and mutual respect. Although women have made real gains in workplace participation, they have been denied equal socio-political rights. Religious minorities, non-believers, indigenous communities, LGBTQ+ people, and those holding dissenting views face persistent discrimination, threats, and at times the loss of life. Bangladesh’s academic institutions have not escaped party politics either, leaving the country without the independent intellectual infrastructure that democracy requires. Any genuine democratic transition must contend with this history and these accumulated challenges.
Now, after a decade with no fair elections, simply holding an election was a significant achievement and a hope for increased democratic participation.
But what has actually changed since the 2024 ousting of Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina and her Awami League regime? One political party was banned, and the other two filled the spaces, reigniting the question of fair representation. Voters approved of a referendum, but those reforms currently rest in the hand of a party that appears disinclined to fulfill those promises of reform. Representation of women in the elections declined, with an absurdly small number seated in the parliament – the lowest in twenty-five years. The country is still reeling from mob violence and attacks on minorities, which marred Dr. Yunus’s interim government but still shows no sign of abatement. Whether this transition signals a genuine restoration of democratic norms—or merely a reconfiguration of power—remains uncertain.
Shuddhashar’s special issue, Bangladesh: Return to Democracy?, approaches this transition from the ground up. Rather than focusing solely on institutions or electoral processes, the issue centers those who have historically been pushed to the margins of Bangladesh’s political life—women, LGBTQ+ communities, youth, progressives, secularists, non-religious, religious minorities, and Adivasis. These communities have borne the brunt of authoritarian repression and rising radical Islamist pressure, and violence and harassment against them continue today. However, for a genuinely pluralistic and democratic future, these groups are also among the most vital potential contributors.
By foregrounding their experiences, analyses, and aspirations, the issue asks what democratic restoration must mean in practice: not simply a transfer of power, but the creation of a fair, representative political order that safeguards dissent, protects minorities, and resists the pull of extremism. In order for this to happen, academics need to research, teach, and publish without being worried of censorship or harassment; journalists must be able to investigate and print news without fear of retaliation and imprisonment; the education system needs to be unifying with shared curriculum and civic goals; and publications need to bravely publish and disseminate progressive and minoritized voices. But in addition to supporting these institutions, there must be a cultural shift in the mindset of citizens so that they cease to engage in harmful rhetoric and violence against those they consider less worthy. That is the responsibility of all citizens.
Shuddhashar’s issue focuses on minority perspectives – urban and rural, young and mature – by looking at concerns by those largely left out of this new Bangladesh. It asks, what kind of democracy is this when so many voices and people are disenfranchised or, worse, feel under threat?
This special issue matters not only for Bangladesh but for the wider world. At a time when democracies in the Global North are faltering, Bangladesh offers hope and a warning. Genuine democratic renewal is possible, but only if it centers those most marginalized and refuses to cede ground to exclusionary, majoritarian politics.
