Political life becomes a stage where guilt is assigned by association, not by evidence.
Their burnout is not a personal failing. It is a symptom of a culture that confuses motion with meaning. If a generation is exhausted before life begins, the problem is not them. It is the world we have collectively built around them.
The choices Bangladesh makes in the coming years will determine the future. Political experience, ideological moderation, and administrative grounding -- all characteristics associated with the centrist tradition -- will be essential components of a successful democratic transition.
The real victory of any revolution lies not in the fall of an old regime but in the birth of a culture that resists repeating its mistakes. Bangladesh’s revolution will have meaning only if it leads to a politics that listens, includes, and endures.
Until democracy regains its moral soul -- until citizens can question without fear and leaders can lose power without vengeance -- it will remain a performance, not a principle. And if this performance continues, one morning we will awaken to discover that democracy has quietly turned into its opposite.
When Alfred Nobel dreamed of a world united by fraternity, he did not imagine it would be governed by press releases. Yet that is what the award has become: a yearly exercise in reputation management, not reconciliation.
The damage is not only ethical but psychological. Once the collective mind learns to justify wrongdoing as survival, no institution can function. Our tragedy is not that we lack intelligence, but that we misuse it. We have mistaken cunning for cleverness and substituted wisdom with opportunism.
Politics is not a moral monastery. It’s a battlefield of imperfect allies and temporary truces. If the NCP keeps attacking everyone around it, soon it will have no one left to fight beside. Reform may begin with rebellion, but it survives through relationships. And without those, no revolution lasts long enough to write its own constitution.
His BBC interview does not announce a new manifesto; it announces a new temperament. It marks the return not merely of a politician but of a political tone long missing in Bangladesh -- calm, composed, and confident in the people’s intelligence
Each missing gun is a potential shooting at a street corner, a robbery, a killing. As national elections approach, the fear is not hypothetical. It is Chekhov’s gun multiplied by a thousand: if a weapon hangs on the wall in Act I, it must go off by Act III. And Act III is the election.
Societies that silence dissent eventually silence innovation, justice, and even hope. The cemetery of nations is filled not with those who spoke too much, but with those who spoke too little.
The greatest danger of our age is not simply that authority will be rejected, but that authority itself will lose all legitimacy, leaving nothing in its place but the law of the jungle
His prolonged stay in the UK is now the defining issue for the country’s opposition politics. His potential return could reshape public perception, reinvigorate the BNP, and alter the national political equilibrium.
Whoever sits in power today must imagine themselves out of power tomorrow. If they cannot accept that thought, then their governance is not democracy but monarchy in disguise.
If Gaza becomes the example that law is conditional and morality negotiable, then the costs will be felt far beyond its borders. And when history renders its verdict, it will not be kind to those who turned away.
20% is better than 35, but there is still a lot of work that needs to be done if Bangladesh wishes to remain competitive in the global marketplace