Is Jamaat Using NCP as a Secular Shield?

During one of the early workshops of the Citizens Committee -- perhaps the first or the second -- a senior leader, whom I greatly respect, laid out what he believed to be the central political challenge of our time: the Jamaat question.

His proposed solution was deceptively simple. Jamaat, he argued, could only be neutralized by creating its alternative. What we needed was something like an AK Party (i.e. the Justice and Development party in Turkey) -- a fresh, secular formation that would attract the younger generation of right-wing and centre-right voters who might otherwise drift toward Jamaat. 

If such a party could assume the political space Jamaat occupies, the burden of history and theocratic ambition that Jamaat carries would gradually lose its appeal.

In short, Jamaat could be defeated only by becoming its replacement.

A month or so after the government was formed on August 8, an adviser called me in for a conversation. Jamaat, he said, was prepared to provide full logistical support to students who wished to form a political party. Former Shibir members were already in place; organizational mechanisms existed. Nothing, he assured me, was being demanded in return. Jamaat merely wanted the students to stand as a political party in their own right.

As I ate my lunch, I replied that we could set aside, for the moment, the familiar moral and historical taboos surrounding Jamaat and 1971. But there were practical questions that could not be avoided.

History, after all, is instructive. It tells us that Jamaat successfully absorbed and politically displaced the Qawmi religious current. The Nezam-e-Islam Party, which secured nineteen seats in the 1954 election, has since vanished entirely. Jamaat took over its ideological and organizational space -- a process described in detail in Ghulam Azam’s own writings.

Later, Jamaat’s participation in the Four-Party Alliance inflicted lasting damage on the BNP’s organizational structure, damage from which the party has yet to fully recover.

The lesson is clear. Jamaat has repeatedly demonstrated both the intention and the capacity to penetrate, influence, and reshape larger political organizations through alliances. Its ultimate objective has never been short-term electoral gain alone, but a long-term theocratic transformation of the state.

Under these conditions, a party that accepts Jamaat’s logistics at its very inception -- while imagining that Jamaat will remain “selfless” and allow itself to be politically replaced -- would be engaging in political self-destruction. The moment Jamaat tightens its grip on the logistical apparatus, the party’s autonomy would evaporate. A party that cannot stand on its own feet cannot stand at all.

These two episodes often return to my mind when I try to understand the NCP’s political journey. 

The idea of forming an AK-type party with Jamaat’s logistical support, only to later replace Jamaat itself, is a strangely utopian fantasy. My sense is that Jamaat recognized this ambition early on. Through its longstanding pre-August relationships with student leaders, and through its understanding of how a student-led party might evolve, Jamaat could reasonably anticipate the trajectory this new politics might take.

In truth, the NCP may well have possessed the potential to confront Jamaat politically and intellectually -- beyond the narrow terrain of war crimes discourse -- and to establish a democratic, center-right alternative. That possibility, I suspect, also unsettled Jamaat in the immediate aftermath of August.

The result was a dual strategy: Jamaat itself entered the race to become an AK-type party, while simultaneously working -- through various means -- to keep the NCP within its sphere of influence.

I never believed that the NCP becoming an AK-type party was either likely or necessary. Bangladesh simply does not offer the structural conditions for such a party to emerge independently. If anyone can occupy that position, it is Jamaat itself.

As long as Jamaat remains a functional political force, no alternative AK-type formation -- whether led by students or former Shibir factions -- will be allowed to flourish.

That said, had the NCP succeeded in becoming such a party, I would not have opposed it.

But it made two fundamental errors.

First, it accepted Jamaat’s logistical support. The party’s top leadership already had various forms of prior engagement with Jamaat, relationships that continue to this day. Once logistics entered the equation, however, structural dependence became unavoidable. From its formative stage onward, the NCP lost its organizational independence. Jamaat acquired the upper hand.

Second, the leadership failed to clearly articulate its purpose to its own members and affiliated organizations. Slogans such as ‘Day O Dorod’ (Responsibility and Care), ‘Noya Rajnoitik Bondobosto’ (A New Political Settlement), or ‘civilizational transformation of the state’ were never translated into concrete political meaning. Had they done so -- even at the cost of a smaller membership -- the party could have been built on clarity and conviction.

Instead, the NCP attempted to capitalize on the momentum and symbolism of the mass uprising, opting for popularity over definition. It spoke of ‘centrism’ without ever defining what that centrism entailed. As a result, ambiguity persisted not only outside the party, but within it as well.

I had anticipated the current alliance between the NCP and Jamaat as early as the DUCSU period. I warned my political comrades at the time and eventually resigned from the party over this issue. Personally, however, I do not view the alliance with emotional resentment. On the contrary, it clarifies the political terrain ahead.

What this alliance makes unmistakably clear is that the NCP can no longer be described as a centrist or welfare-state-oriented force. It now resembles other center-right democratic parties like AB Party or UP Bangladesh that seek power through alliances with the religious right. In return, it is willing to function as a secular shield -- legitimizing and normalizing its right-wing partners.

The longer-term ambition is evident: to gradually replace Jamaat and emerge as the country’s dominant Centre-right democratic party.

As a strategy, this is not inherently flawed. If I believed the NCP capable of executing it, I might even welcome the alliance. Replacing Jamaat with a comparatively more democratic and secular centre-right force would represent a qualitative improvement in Bangladesh’s political landscape.

But such an outcome is exceedingly unlikely at a moment when Jamaat is arguably enjoying the most favorable phase in its history.

Jamaat is already moving decisively to occupy the centre-right space in the current political spectrum. Meanwhile, the NCP has done nearly everything required to disqualify itself from that role. Most critically, it has failed to build a durable organizational structure. Lacking internal strength, it now seeks protection under the shadow of Jamaat and Charmonai.

There is no realistic path by which this party can replace Jamaat.

A more plausible scenario is that Jamaat, as the dominant partner, will temporarily nurture the NCP as a secular façade. After elections, internal power dynamics may shift as elected representatives consolidate influence. Over time, the party’s most powerful faction could evolve into a disciplined auxiliary force -- a B-team -- serving Jamaat’s broader project.

From Jamaat’s perspective, this would be a strategic success. By the 2031 election, it could present itself with substantial "secular credentials."

For this to work, however, the NCP must be kept deliberately small -- bonsai-sized. If it grows too strong, it risks becoming a genuine rival. My sense is that Jamaat has neither the intention to reform itself nor the willingness to allow such growth. Jamaat will remain the benchmark of right-wing politics in Bangladesh, while exploiting the NCP whenever a secular shield becomes necessary.

The greatest casualty of this alliance will be July itself.

Jamaat will move closer to establishing exclusive ownership over the politics of July and the post-July period. Polarization will intensify. Old cultural binaries will re-emerge. In time, the conditions for the return of the Awami League will be quietly reconstructed.

This trajectory is not inevitable. It could still be disrupted if the July generation outside the NCP organizes itself around a new political mission and vision. Whether Bangladesh currently has the conditions for an AK-type party remains uncertain. What we do know is that similar experiments in civilizational populism -- across India, Turkey, and parts of Europe -- have produced deeply troubling outcomes.

What Bangladesh urgently needs is a July-rooted social democratic force: one that stands unequivocally against all forms of fascism; that remains grounded in the country’s people and realities; that is honest and reliable in its commitments; that prioritizes concrete policy over empty rhetoric or ideological posturing; and that demonstrates a genuine determination to transform not only state power, but political culture itself.

That, in my view, is the unfinished political task of July.

Tuhin Khan is a writer, activist, and former co-member secretary of the NCP.