The Right to Contest

Imagine a young man outside his union parishad chairman’s office, a folder on his lap. He has finished his master’s degree. An application now requires a certificate bearing the chairman’s signature. Years of study have brought him this far; today, he needs someone to look at his papers.

There is nothing improper about seeking an elected representative’s verification. Nor does the graduate’s education make him more deserving of respect than the person behind the desk. But the encounter raises a question worth asking: How much should someone entrusted with that authority be expected to understand?

On September 13, State Minister Mir Shahe Alam clarified that Bangladesh’s five local-government election laws impose no educational qualification on candidates. He also recognized that people without formal schooling may be knowledgeable and capable. This was an explanation of eligibility, not a declaration that competence does not matter. The distinction deserves to survive the public debate.

The discussion comes as election preparations continue. The government had envisaged a phased start after the monsoon. At its September 17 briefing, the Election Commission said dates remained unsettled, with examinations complicating proposed November-December windows. Its stated priority was completing union parishad polls before June 6, 2027.

Alongside when citizens will vote, there is room to discuss what they should expect afterwards.

A degree cannot answer that question by itself. It guarantees neither honesty nor judgement. A community organizer who left school early may understand local needs better than a graduate who rarely listens.

Poverty may have interrupted someone’s schooling without diminishing their ability to lead. Public office cannot fairly become compensation for those fortunate enough to have attended university.

Yet a chairman’s work also extends beyond familiarity with the neighbourhood. The Local Government (Union Parishad) Act, 2009 assigns councils responsibility for local economic and social development plans.

It requires public budget sessions, financial accounts and a citizen charter specifying services and delivery times. These are responsibilities already written into law, not ambitions awaiting a more developed Bangladesh.

Someone must understand what is being approved, ask why a project costs what it does, and notice when expenditure does not match the work. Officials and engineers provide expertise, but elected representatives need enough understanding to question their advice. Otherwise, authority can remain with one person while decisions quietly pass to whoever prepares the file.

Research offers reasons to take this seriously, although it does not deliver a convenient verdict. In the European Journal of Political Economy, Alessio Mitra examined closely contested Italian mayoral elections. Municipalities where candidates with tertiary education narrowly won devoted more spending to public investment, particularly education, without worsening fiscal stability. Comparing narrow victories helps distinguish leadership effects from differences between the places electing them.

A Brazilian study by Caíque Melo and Robson Tigre, published in Economic Development and Cultural Change, makes a useful distinction. Using close elections and randomly assigned audits, it found more educated mayors committed 32% fewer moderate administrative infringements.

However, it found no corresponding reduction in serious corruption-related irregularities or difference in public-goods provision. Better administration did not automatically mean greater integrity or better services.

And Nicholas Carnes and Noam Lupu’s study in The Journal of Politics, covering national leaders, American legislators and Brazilian municipalities, found no consistent performance advantage for college-educated politicians. These findings cannot simply be transplanted to Bangladesh. Taken together, they caution against treating a certificate as proof of governing ability, while leaving practical preparation firmly on the table.

That preparation matters when national ambitions reach an ordinary office. A development allocation becomes a local road whose maintenance somebody must plan. Climate adaptation means deciding where drainage should go and whose homes remain exposed.

A digital service still fails if a citizen cannot get an incorrect entry corrected. Talk of artificial intelligence and modern infrastructure becomes rather distant beside a counter where nobody can explain a procedure.

Bangladesh has institutional experience to draw on. The World Bank’s account of its local-governance programme reports improvements in planning, financial management and services through predictable grants, audits and community participation.

This is evidence about strengthening institutions, not proof that particular academic credentials produce better chairmen. An able representative still needs staff, resources and meaningful accountability.

Perhaps the discussion should therefore begin with practical preparation for office. Training already formed part of that local-governance programme. Could practical preparation become a more dependable expectation for every elected representative, with accessible instruction in budgets, procurement, citizens’ rights, digital services and environmental responsibilities, followed by practical assessment and continued support?

A minimum qualification for candidacy deserves serious consideration, but it should measure readiness for the responsibilities of local office rather than require a university degree. Candidates could demonstrate basic knowledge of local-government duties through formal education or a free, accessible training programme. The rules would need to be clear and applied fairly, so that people with less schooling are not excluded simply because they had fewer opportunities to study.

There may be a wider gain. A citizen who receives a receipt, a clear explanation and service within a stated time has reason to expect the same next time. An accessible budget creates an opportunity to ask informed questions. Over time, competent local institutions could help citizens become more confident in dealing with government and less dependent on personal favours.

Return to the graduate with his folder. His qualification does not entitle him to jump the queue. His application does entitle him to proper attention, as does anyone else’s.

What matters is not whether the chairman holds more certificates than the person waiting. It is whether he understands what his signature authorizes, what delay may cost, and the responsibility that came with the chair. 

Md. Sajid Hasan is Energy Intelligence Associate at Lontana Consulting and intern at King’s College London. He can be reached at [email protected].