Relative Strength, Absolute Stubbornness: Mapping the Politics of Deadlock

Politics in Bangladesh today stands at a critical crossroads.

The nation faces two distinct paths: either political parties will again embrace the familiar and destructive culture of confrontational politics, or -- perhaps for the first time in decades -- they will demonstrate maturity, make necessary concessions, and commit to meaningful negotiations. 

The choice between these two paths is not only a matter of electoral strategy; it is a test of whether our democratic institutions can evolve into something more than vehicles for partisan dominance.

Despite the spectacle on the streets, the real politics -- the kind that determines the trajectory of the nation -- has moved behind closed doors, into the deliberations of the consensus commission. What we see unfolding in the public sphere is merely a reflection of what has not yet been achieved in private: consensus.

The Celebration of Stubbornness

One of the core dilemmas in our political culture is that stubbornness is often mistaken for strength. The ability to stick rigidly to one’s position without compromise is celebrated as a political virtue. But this conception is deeply flawed.

Democracy, by design, is not a zero-sum game. It is not sustained by rejection and rigidity, but by negotiation, patience, and the willingness to forge common ground.

Democratic practice thrives when parties engage in what political theorists call “win-win” or even “mutual concession” -- where everyone compromises, and no side walks away with everything.

The Illusion of Equal Bargaining Power

Let us also be honest about the nature of the ongoing political bargaining. Despite the formal architecture of the consensus commission appearing egalitarian, the balance of power among the participants has never been equal.

As C. Wright Mills famously argued in The Power Elite: "What is one man’s honorable balance is often another man’s unfair balance." In such contexts, dominant parties often cloak their control in the language of fairness, preferring their hegemony to be “uninterrupted and peaceful.” The illusion of parity only masks a deeper asymmetry.

This raises a fundamental question: who held the upper hand when the bargaining began? Drawing from the insights of Schwartzberg and Knight, several factors determine bargaining strength: resources brought to the table, past experience, understanding of institutional rules, and most crucially, the degree of impatience to reach an agreement.

By these standards, the BNP emerged as the dominant actor in the initial stages -- except in one regard: time. BNP’s inability to tolerate prolonged negotiations, driven by internal instability and its eagerness to return to power, constituted its primary vulnerability.

The Shifting Landscape of Bargaining Power

Ironically, the very impatience that defined BNP’s strategic posture is now contributing to its relative decline. As the party’s central leadership struggled to rein in local factions -- amid scandals, extortion allegations, and violent infighting -- it became increasingly anxious.

Fearing that its once-unquestioned public support was eroding, BNP chose to abandon constructive negotiation in favour of a rejectionist strategy. What began as a tactical maneuver to test the boundaries of negotiation evolved into a strategy that ultimately alienated potential allies and emboldened opposition parties to unify.

This convergence among rival factions marked a critical shift. By overcoming their collective action problem -- aligning around a shared demand for proportional representation -- these parties transformed from fragmented voices into a coalition capable of exerting real pressure on BNP. While BNP still retains some leverage, it no longer possesses the capacity to dictate terms unilaterally.

The Stakes of PR and the Risk of Regression

At the heart of this bargaining impasse lies the question of PR -- particularly its implementation in the legislative process. Should both camps refuse to budge -- BNP rejecting PR in both houses, and the coalition refusing anything less -- we risk regressing into the familiar territory of confrontation, rhetorical escalation, and political brinkmanship.

The cycle of inflammatory speeches, public insults, and street-level agitation already suggests we are headed in that direction.

Who Will Blink First?

This is the moment when political maturity will be tested. One side must make the first move. A plausible compromise could look like this: BNP might agree to PR in the upper house, while rejecting it in the lower. Alternatively, a leading coalition party could secure internal consensus and approach BNP with the inverse proposal.

In either case, a deal on PR could open the door for a broader discussion on the role and composition of the Upper House and other institutional reforms.

The prevailing fear, of course, is that compromise will be interpreted as weakness. But this fear is misplaced. At worst, only the most militant cadres or partisan hardliners will interpret flexibility as capitulation.

To the general electorate -- the silent majority -- such a move could signal political maturity, statesmanship, and the ability to govern beyond the narrow calculus of party loyalty.

In the best-case scenario, the initiating party could emerge as a national reformer, claiming moral and political credit for breaking the deadlock.

A Test of Political Will

The current street-level unrest is not a product of spontaneous popular discontent; it is a manifestation of elite failure. The inability of parties to reach an agreement has spilled over into public life, threatening both political stability and democratic norms.

It is still not clear which path we will choose. But if we are serious about democratic institutionalization, the path of confrontation must be abandoned. Someone must blink -- not to lose face, but to lead.

It is time to reimagine strength not as stubbornness, but as the courage to compromise.