'Authoritarianism in Bangladesh rooted in zero-sum politics, not just past 16 years'

Bangladesh has become trapped in a vicious cycle of corruption. How did we end up here? How has corruption in Bangladesh evolved and spread over the past 25 years?

Unfortunately, it is true that despite the existence of legal, institutional and policy frameworks, the potential to control or prevent corruption in Bangladesh has steadily weakened. 

Particularly during the period you referred to, we witnessed a sharp deterioration — a culture of unhealthy competition emerged among those in power. Successive governments, major political parties, and their alliances became locked in a race not to serve the people better, but to exploit state power more effectively.

From this perspective, corruption has become deeply embedded in Bangladesh's political and social culture. The mindset took hold that remaining in power is essentially a licence for corruption — an opportunity to abuse authority for personal or partisan gain. 

What was once considered unethical has been normalised, even legitimised. As a result, corruption became a contest: Each government tried to outdo its predecessor in excesses and abuse, perpetuating the cycle further.

High-level corruption remained unchecked, while service-sector corruption — which directly affects citizens' daily lives — spread widely. This system made ordinary people hostages to corruption, forcing them to accept it as unavoidable. 

The rise of authoritarianism in Bangladesh, therefore, did not occur solely in the past 16 years; its roots lie much deeper in the zero-sum political mindset that views power as something that must be held at any cost, and where being out of power is seen as unacceptable.

This culture has had far-reaching consequences. There is hardly any profession or institution in the country that has not been politicised. A relentless competition for partisan dominance has hollowed out state institutions, diverting them from their fundamental roles. Institutions meant to uphold the rule of law have instead become its violators. 

Consequently, the very legal and institutional structures that could have fought corruption have been turned into instruments that sustain it. Over time, this has given rise to what can only be described as a kleptocratic regime — a system governed by thieves.

What has been the impact of this kleptocracy on ordinary citizens?

Corruption is estimated to cost Bangladesh between 5% and 7% of its GDP annually. Of that, around 3% to 4% is illicitly transferred abroad. Over the past 16 years, approximately $240 billion has been siphoned out of the country — roughly double the total amount Bangladesh received in foreign direct investment and external assistance during the same period. When grand corruption at the top remains unchecked, it inevitably creates greater space for petty corruption at the bottom.

As a result, corruption affects every level of economic life, but its burden is not evenly distributed. Research shows that the per capita impact of corruption on low-income people is four times higher than on the average citizen. 

Women are more vulnerable to corruption than men, and marginalised groups — including religious and ethnic minorities — face greater exposure. Rural populations suffer more than urban residents, as their capacity to resist or challenge corruption is far weaker.

In essence, corruption in Bangladesh does not merely steal money — it steals rights, deepens inequality, and erodes the moral and institutional foundations of society.

Can we increase the benefits for our citizens if corruption can be prevented? 

The government seems unable to determine where its priorities truly lie. Yet we now see reports emerging in the media that the salaries and benefits of bureaucrats are being reviewed — and are expected to nearly double. 

Meanwhile, Members of Parliament are being offered a 5% or 15% increase in their housing allowance to keep them content. Those who are already enjoying significant privileges are being promised even more, while others are largely ignored. So where, then, does the government's sense of priority actually stand?

We are not necessarily against salary revisions. When public sector pay was last increased, the government had publicly stated that one of its aims was to reduce corruption. In reality, however, corruption only worsened. 

True, it may be reasonable to review the pay scale now, nearly a decade after 2015 — but this increase must be tied to transparency and accountability. The government should make the pay rise conditional upon officials publicly declaring their assets and sources of income. If linked to such measures, the initiative would be a welcome step.

There were great expectations following the July Uprising — hopes for a qualitative transformation in governance. But have we already lost that opportunity? 

I do not wish to sound pessimistic. By nature, I am an optimist, and after serving in this field for over two decades, I still want to believe change is possible. Yet I cannot ignore what has happened since 5 August 2024. 

From that very evening, reports began to emerge of the resurgence of the same old practices — political favouritism, extortion, manipulation of cases, arbitrary arrests, and even the selling of bail and legal privileges. These practices spread rapidly across the country, perpetrated by those in positions of power — whether state or non-state actors.

The most troubling part is that the same alliance between political and bureaucratic forces — which once upheld a corrupt system — seems to have reappeared. One underlying sentiment driving this behaviour is the idea that "we didn't get our turn before; now it's our turn." This mindset — deeply rooted in both political and bureaucratic culture — reflects an unfortunate normalisation of wrongdoing from which the system has yet to break free.

Last year, on 5 August, Sheikh Hasina fled amid mass protests. The kleptocratic regime that surrounded her collapsed. Yet her absence did not end the kleptocracy itself. Why? 

Because many within the current power structure view this as their chance to compensate for lost opportunities — to seize what they believe they were previously denied. Sadly, this attitude is already reflected in the reform process.

When it comes to ensuring accountability of the executive, the most serious obstacles we face often come from those currently in power, or those poised to assume power.

So how can Bangladesh escape from this kleptocratic system?

The path to liberation lies in forging a national consensus grounded in the mandate achieved through the people's movement — particularly the student-led and mass-led uprisings. Based on that, a comprehensive reform agenda for the state must be developed — constitutional, institutional and legal — through a participatory process culminating in the National Charter. If implemented in good faith, this can indeed pave the way for liberation.

At the core of this reform must be a single principle: those in power must be held accountable to the people. Above all else, this is what matters most. If we succeed in establishing genuine mechanisms to hold power to account, real change is possible. Without it, we will, unfortunately, have to continue our struggle for much longer.

As head of the Anti-Corruption Commission Reform Committee, you have reviewed numerous documents. What, in your view, were the major failures of the institution?

The biggest failures can be summarised in three points.

First, the appointment process for the Commission's leadership — its Chairmen and Commissioners — has never followed the procedures stipulated by law or practised in other countries. Every ruling party appointed individuals loyal to its interests, not to the state. Consequently, the institution's allegiance remained with the government rather than with the republic it was meant to serve.

Second, the Commission's upper and mid-level officials — from directors general downward — have been overwhelmingly drawn from the bureaucracy. This has led to deep administrative control and a loss of independence in its functioning.

Third, despite having a legal obligation to remain free of corruption, the Commission itself has become tainted. It has failed to cleanse its own ranks. 

The first reform it must undertake, therefore, is to root out corruption within its own walls. Only then can it credibly fight corruption in the country.