Norwegian politics versus reality of Bangladesh
Norway has just completed a national election. The entire process was transparent, peaceful and exemplary by democratic standards. After the results were announced, a remarkable political culture was on display. Although the winning party was jubilant with electoral success, it behaved responsibly—avoiding insults to opponents and instead promising future work.
On the other hand, the defeated parties openly accepted the people’s verdict. Some announced a reassessment of their positions. More significantly, some leaders took personal responsibility and resigned, while a few even decided to quit politics altogether. For them, politics is not only about power but about safeguarding the people’s trust. They took failure not as defeat but as a moral responsibility.
This behaviour reflects a healthy political culture. In a democracy, elections are not merely a mechanism for changing power but also a test of morality, accountability and respect for the people. Norway’s experience proves that where accountability is practised, democracy not only grows stronger but also lays firmer foundations for state and society.
The reality of Bangladesh
In Bangladesh, the picture is the opposite. Here defeat means creating enemies, making excuses and blaming opponents or the administration. Just as a student with poor results avoids taking responsibility and blames the syllabus, sleeplessness or illness, the same tendency is seen in politics.
The hope for an end to Bangladesh’s shameless and brazen politics circulates daily in public sentiment, but sadly there is no visible sign of that change yet. In contrast, in countries practising advanced democracy, we see a different picture that could serve as a great lesson for Bangladesh.
The history of DUCSU or JUCSU elections makes it clear that whenever a student organisation realised defeat was inevitable, they boycotted the election. They never admitted losing the trust of students or the public. Instead, they blamed opponents, the administration or even international forces. The same thing happened in the recent JUCSU election—facing defeat, candidates supported by the Chhatra Dal restricted participation or boycotted at the last moment. Even then, instead of self-criticism, they brought forward a series of allegations.
The result is that students develop a negative image of politics. They see no room for accountability or morality in it. Yet in advanced democracies leaders acknowledge failure and make space for a new generation. In Bangladesh’s politics, that transparency, accountability and moral responsibility remain absent.
The crisis of student politics
In theory, student politics should be transparent, neutral and democratic. In practice, however, interference by corrupt and power-hungry politicians obstructs the political growth of students. Ugly tactics, vote rigging and unethical influence are distorting the country’s future leadership.
The longstanding dominance of political parties is corrupting students. Instead of learning responsible leadership, they see that immorality works as the means to gain power. This fosters a lack of ethics among the new generation. The long-term consequence is severe: when a state loses moral leadership, not only politics but every level of society and administration becomes weak.
Lessons from Bangladesh and Nepal
Bangladesh was reborn through the 2024 mass uprising. But the question is—why was this uprising so different from the recent one in Nepal? Nepal demonstrated that change is not just about seizing power but about inner purification. There, after leading the movement, students returned to class and to their books. Before leaving, they repaired damaged roads and cleaned burnt areas. Most importantly, they did not hesitate to apologise to the whole nation for their mistakes.
Former Chief Justice Sushila Karki took charge as head of the interim government with only three associates. Even the person nominated for mayor politely declined the offer. Nepal’s national election is set for 5 March—on a clear timetable, with specific goals and based on public trust.
By contrast, Bangladesh’s experience is entirely different. The one we placed in power with high expectations thought only of personal interests, as did his advisers. I myself once regarded Dr Yunus as an idol, but time has taught me that one cannot follow someone blindly for name or fame alone.
We removed Sheikh Hasina from anger, but the same quota turned into Aladdin’s lamp for others. Suddenly, some people’s fortunes changed—they appeared on the streets with expensive sunglasses, branded watches and luxury cars worth crores, though only days earlier they had claimed, “We are so poor, even my father struggles to feed us.”
This contradiction is Bangladesh’s greatest crisis. One person has no eyes, while another wears costly glasses; one has nothing in hand, while another flaunts luxury worth crores. That is why this country has yet to produce the kind of hero the poet once dreamt of: “When will that boy be born in our land, who will be great not by words but by deeds?”
Thus, Bangladesh’s uprising remains incomplete. It is not enough to change power; what is needed is inner moral purification—something Nepal has already set as a living example before us. Why then is the absence of accountability so dangerous?
• Democracy weakens: when people lose trust, democracy becomes an empty shell.
• State institutions collapse: without accountability, the judiciary, election commission and administration are weakened by partisan influence.
• Generational faith is lost: young people learn to despise politics and turn away from leadership.
• Corruption increases: when responsibility is not accepted and blame is shifted, corruption becomes institutionalised.
The path of change: where is the light of hope
What is most urgent now in Bangladesh’s politics is to build a culture of self-criticism, morality and accountability. Leaders must understand that responsibility means not only holding office but also maintaining the people’s trust. Losing that trust means stepping aside—that is true morality. The day leaders in Bangladesh say, “I have failed, so let someone new have a chance,” will be the day genuine democracy begins.
When defeat is taken not as shame but as a lesson, only then will Bangladesh’s shameless and brazen politics end. And that will be the day politics truly reflects the trust and confidence of the people.
Rahman Mridha: Researcher, writer and former Director, Pfizer, Sweden
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