Bangladesh today stands at a dangerous crossroads, where the gap between political language and political reality is widening at an alarming pace. On one side, there is carefully curated rhetoric—justice, welfare, equal citizenship, fair elections. On the other, there are fires on the streets, hatred in speeches, mob justice, and attacks on the press. At the centre of this dual reality stands Jamaat-e-Islami, along with its expanding political–digital ecosystem.
This text takes a clear position. It is a direct critique of Jamaat’s double-faced politics. The pattern that has emerged over recent months—digital propaganda, narrative manipulation around history, threats by Shibir-linked figures, arson attacks on media houses, and mob violence against minorities—is not accidental. It is not a collection of isolated incidents. It is a political trajectory.
Narrative Warfare: Turning History into “Debate”
The moral and political foundation of Bangladesh rests on 1971. Any political force that remains ambiguous on this foundation remains ambiguous toward the state itself. What is increasingly visible today is a deliberate softening and distortion of that history through speeches, online discussions, and video content circulated by Jamaat-aligned voices.
The method is subtle but effective. There is no clear admission of responsibility. Instead, there is a fog of language—mistakes were made, all sides were involved, history needs reassessment, new investigations are required. On the surface, these sound neutral. Politically, they serve a precise purpose: responsibility is diluted, moral judgment is weakened, and historical accountability is turned into an endless debate.
This is not the opinion of a single speaker. It is repeated, coordinated, and sustained. And the most effective battlefield for this effort is the digital space.
Digital Propaganda Behind the Mask of “Scholars”
As editors, we have reviewed numerous videos, livestreams, and short-form clips circulating online. A consistent pattern emerges. Jamaat-aligned YouTubers and self-styled scholars, researchers, or Islamic intellectuals address young audiences in polished language and modern formats. The delivery is calm. The visuals are professional. The substance, however, follows the same script.
They cast doubt on the moral clarity of the Liberation War.
They frame politics as a religious binary—us versus them.
They brand dissenting voices as anti-Islamic or foreign-influenced.
Often, there is no explicit call for violence. But the language is saturated with dehumanisation, resentment, and grievance. History shows that when hatred becomes normalised, violence no longer appears extreme.
The greatest danger of this digital propaganda lies in psychological conditioning. Young viewers begin to see mob punishment as “justice.” Attacks on media are reframed as “public anger.” Words become fire. And eventually, fire becomes action.
Shibir Threats: From Words to Violence
Parallel to this online narrative, events on the ground have provided chilling confirmation. Mainstream newspapers have reported threats issued by leaders associated with Islami Chhatra Shibir calling for the shutdown of major newspapers and the destruction of cultural institutions. Later came explanations, denials, and condemnations.
But the central question remains unanswered: how did such language enter the public space at all?
When threats are made openly, the most extreme elements feel emboldened. They believe they are not acting alone. By the time official disapproval is expressed, the damage has already been done. Mob politics does not stop at condemnation. It stops at deterrence—and deterrence requires action before violence, not after it.
Fire at the Newsroom: An Assault on Democracy Itself
The most alarming manifestation of this trajectory came with the vandalism and arson attacks on the offices of Prothom Alo and The Daily Star in Dhaka. These were not symbolic protests. These were life-threatening assaults.
International reports described journalists trapped inside burning buildings, choking on smoke, forced to flee to rooftops. For the first time in decades, the printing presses of Bangladesh’s leading newspapers were silenced.
This was not an “emotional outburst.” It was organised violence. In a democracy, the press is not an enemy—it is a mirror. Setting fire to the mirror does not change reality. It burns the house.
The United Nations human rights office publicly condemned the attacks. Global media framed them as part of a broader pattern of shrinking civic space and rising mob violence in Bangladesh. These reactions are not routine statements. They are warnings.
Minority Citizens and Mob Violence: Moral Collapse of the State
Alongside attacks on the press, another incident shook the nation’s conscience. In Mymensingh, a Hindu youth was beaten to death by a mob and his body burned. This was not a spontaneous crime. It was lynching—mob violence fuelled by religious incitement and collective hysteria.
When minorities are unsafe, the promise of “equal citizenship” becomes meaningless. When religious rhetoric and political mobilisation coincide, mob violence gains political legitimacy. At that point, the failure is not only of law enforcement—it is moral.
A state that cannot protect its most vulnerable citizens cannot claim democratic credibility.
Soft Language, Hard Structure: The Blueprint of Double Politics
Jamaat now publicly speaks the language of welfare and justice. This is not new. Across the world, hardline movements often begin with soft rhetoric. The critical test is whether language aligns with conduct.
Here, it does not.
The pattern is unmistakable:
At the front—justice, welfare, elections.
Behind—narrative warfare, hate speech, threats, and fire.
This duality is dangerous because it creates gradual normalisation. First come words. Then threats. Then action. Then condemnation. Then silence. Then repetition.
Which Way Is the State Heading?
This is the question Bangladesh can no longer avoid.
When history is turned into debate, culture becomes conditional, media is intimidated, and minorities live in fear, the character of the state changes. Elections may still occur, but democracy erodes.
Politics can be a contest of ideas.
But terror, mob violence and arson are not politics.
Behind the soft mask lies a hard politics—and it is the most serious warning facing Bangladesh today.
