The Kitchen Cabinet

Politics often reveals its deepest truths not while power is being exercised, but after power has slipped away.

Over the last few months, Bangladesh has witnessed a remarkable political phenomenon. One after another, former advisers of the interim government have stepped forward to discuss the existence of an influential "kitchen cabinet" surrounding Chief Adviser Muhammad Yunus.

Yet the most striking aspect of these revelations is not the alleged existence of the kitchen cabinet itself. It is the collective rush by former insiders to establish that they were not part of it.

The term “kitchen cabinet” itself has roots in nineteenth century American politics. It emerged during the presidency of Andrew Jackson, when critics accused him of relying less on his official cabinet and more on a close circle of informal advisers, often personal friends and trusted confidants.

Because these meetings were said to take place away from formal settings and through less official access routes, the group was metaphorically associated with the kitchen entrance rather than the main corridors of power. Over time, the expression entered political vocabulary to describe any informal but influential advisory circle operating alongside constitutional institutions.

Former adviser M Sakhawat Hossain was the first to publicly acknowledge the existence of such a circle. He suggested that major decisions were often determined before discussions reached the larger advisory council.

Former foreign affairs adviser Touhid Hossain later went further, claiming that a seven-member kitchen cabinet played a decisive role in policy-making and met regularly at Jamuna.

Former legal affairs adviser Asif Nazrul clarified that he was not a member of the group. Farida Akhtar similarly distanced herself from it. Even Syeda Rizwana Hasan, whom many observers considered among the government's most influential advisers, sought to explain her position. Asif Mahmud Sajeeb Bhuiyan also acknowledged hearing about the kitchen cabinet while making it clear that he did not belong to it.

This has created a fascinating political puzzle. Everybody appears to know that the kitchen cabinet existed. Everybody appears to know that it wielded influence. Yet almost nobody appears willing to admit membership.

The issue, however, is not whether there was a kitchen cabinet. Every government in the world has some version of one. Presidents rely on trusted aides. Prime Ministers listen to confidants. Informal networks often exist alongside formal institutions. The real question is why the discussion has emerged now and not when these individuals were exercising authority.

The timing matters.

The debate intensified after questions emerged regarding the trade agreement with the United States. Suddenly, a number of former advisers began explaining that they either opposed certain decisions, were unaware of them, or were excluded from the process altogether.

The public is therefore left with an uncomfortable impression. Was the government truly run by an informal group of seven people, or are former advisers now attempting to distance themselves from controversial decisions for which they may eventually be held accountable?

This is where the discussion becomes larger than the identities of any seven individuals.

If Touhid Hossain's account is accurate, then Bangladesh faces a serious institutional question. How could major diplomatic and trade decisions be made without the full involvement of the foreign affairs adviser?

If Asif Nazrul genuinely lacked knowledge of important aspects of an agreement carrying legal implications, what does that say about the government's decision-making structure?

If other advisers believed they were being bypassed, why did they continue serving in office without publicly challenging the process?

These questions are not intended to accuse any individual of wrongdoing. They are questions about governance itself.

A government is not merely a collection of talented individuals. It is a system of responsibility. Citizens do not elect or accept governments so that officials can later explain that someone else was making the decisions.

Collective responsibility is the foundation of modern governance. If advisers remained in office while believing that crucial decisions were being taken elsewhere, then they inevitably share some responsibility for allowing that system to continue.

This is precisely why the kitchen cabinet debate should not become a hunt for names. Whether the seven members were A, B, C or D is ultimately less important than understanding how authority functioned within the interim government.

The public deserves answers to much bigger questions. Who reviewed major agreements? Who approved them? Who raised objections? Who ignored warnings? Who possessed the authority to halt a controversial decision? Most importantly, why are these questions being asked only after the government has left office?

There is a noticeable pattern in South Asian politics. While in power, officials frequently defend collective decisions and maintain institutional silence. After leaving power, they suddenly become historians, critics and whistle-blowers. The result is a peculiar form of accountability in which everyone claims to have been privately concerned but nobody can explain why those concerns never translated into action.

The statements of Sakhawat Hossain, Touhid Hossain, Asif Nazrul, Farida Akhtar ,and Asif Mahmud therefore raise a dilemma not only for the alleged kitchen cabinet but also for themselves. By emphasizing their distance from key decisions, they may unintentionally be raising questions about their own effectiveness as members of government.

Political legitimacy requires more than good intentions. It requires transparency regarding who exercised power and who accepted responsibility for its consequences. Citizens are entitled to know whether Bangladesh was governed by formal institutions or by informal networks operating behind them.

If the former advisers genuinely believe that a small and influential circle bypassed established processes, then they should go beyond hints and partial disclosures. They should provide a complete account of how decisions were made, who made them, and why the broader advisory council accepted that arrangement.

Otherwise, the kitchen cabinet risks becoming a convenient political ghost. Everyone acknowledges its existence. Nobody claims membership. Everyone regrets its decisions. Nobody accepts responsibility for them.

In such circumstances, the real mystery is not who sat in the kitchen cabinet. The real mystery is how so many senior figures now claim to have been outside the room while simultaneously knowing exactly what happened inside it.

H. M. Nazmul Alam is an Academic, Journalist, and Political Analyst based in Dhaka, Bangladesh. Currently he teaches at IUBAT. He can be reached at [email protected]