The politics of election affidavits: Why asset declarations no longer reveal the truth

Visual: TBS

When Bangladesh introduced sworn election affidavits ahead of the 2008 general election—following a court order during the caretaker government period—it promised that candidates would publicly disclose their wealth, income, debts and backgrounds. It would allow voters to judge not only ideology but integrity. The affidavit—locally known as holofnama—was meant to hold political ambitions accountable with facts.

However, seventeen years on, the transparency tool has evolved into a carefully choreographed exercise in financial understatement, where candidates comply with the letter of the law while sidestepping its spirit. In today's Bangladesh, the affidavit is less a disclosure document and more a negotiated narrative—one where wealth exists, but rarely on paper.

Dr Md Abdul Alim, election expert and a member of the Election System Reform Commission, agrees. "Through the affidavit, voters are supposed to make decisions about whom to vote for, but there is no good system for informing voters about affidavit information. As a result, voters don't look at affidavit information and think before voting. There are also some inconsistencies in the affidavits."

The poverty of the powerful

The most striking feature of recent election cycles is the poverty of the powerful. Senior leaders who command nationwide organisations, fund sustained and expensive political movements, and maintain international lifestyles often report annual incomes that would struggle to support a middle-class household in Dhaka. 

Politics is almost never listed as a profession, despite being a full-time, life-consuming occupation for these figures. Instead, they identify as "consultants," "businessmen," or "farmers," using these categories to provide a vague justification for their cash flow while keeping the specifics of their patronage networks hidden.

This credibility gap is present across the political spectrum. For instance, BNP acting chairperson Tarique Rahman has declared a yearly income of approximately Tk6.76 lakh—a figure roughly equivalent to the salary of a junior entry-level executive. This declaration inevitably invites questions regarding the costs of his decades-long residence in London and the massive financial requirements of running a global political operation. 

"The information on holofnama rarely seems meaningful or credible to the public. This has fostered widespread mistrust, and the failure to verify these details reflects poorly on institutions like the Election Commission (EC) and the Anti-Corruption Commission (ACC). It is necessary to investigate whether tax evasion has occurred and take appropriate action where irregularities are found."

Iftekharuzaman, Executive Director, TIB

Similarly, the Ameer of Jamaat-e-Islami, Dr Shafiqur Rahman, has reported an annual income of just Tk3.60 lakh. For the head of an organisation known for its vast institutional wealth and corporate interests, reporting an income lower than that of many ride-sharing drivers in the capital suggests a profound decoupling of legal filings from economic reality.

Even the new generation of political entrants, rising from the student-led movements that reshaped the country in 2024, has not been immune to this scrutiny. Nahid Islam, convenor of the National Citizen Party (NCP), listed an annual income of Tk16 lakh from teaching and consultation, alongside Tk19.5 lakh in cash. Another NCP leader, Hasnat Abdullah, reported a total asset value of Tk31.67 lakh. 

While these figures are modest compared to established tycoons, they have triggered debates on social media about the "starting wealth" of new political actors and whether these declarations represent the full scope of the resources available to them.

The discrepancies are often most visible when comparing leaders within the same party or family. In BNP, leader Salahuddin Ahmed's declared annual income is nearly 90 times higher than that of his party's acting chairperson, creating an odd hierarchy where subordinates appear vastly wealthier than their leaders. 

Perhaps the most illustrative case of "asymmetric wealth" is that of Tania Rab, senior vice-president of Jatiya Samajtantrik Dal (JSD). As a businesswoman, she reported an income of Tk82.92 lakh and assets worth over Tk14 crore—nearly 14 times more than her husband, JSD President A S M Abdur Rab. 

This practice of registering wealth in the names of spouses or dependents is a hallmark of the Bangladeshi political playbook, allowing the "primary" politician to maintain a humble profile on paper while the family unit accumulates significant capital.

The tricks and the loopholes

These distortions are facilitated by a series of well-known legal loopholes and accounting tricks. Under current regulations, assets are declared at their original acquisition cost rather than their current market value. 

In a country where land prices in urban centers like Dhaka have skyrocketed over the last 30 years, a plot purchased in 1990 for a few thousand taka may now be worth crores, yet it remains on the affidavit at its historical price. The same applies to gold and jewelry, often listed at decades-old purchase values. Furthermore, candidates frequently utilize "mouza" rates—outdated government valuations of land—to underreport their real estate holdings. When combined with the practice of listing luxury vehicles under company names or the names of supporters, these methods create a shroud of legality that masks immense private wealth.

The holofnama is also inextricably linked to the broader culture of tax evasion in Bangladesh. 

According to tax expert Taj Mohammad Sohel, the election affidavit is often just a mirror of a candidate's tax return, which is frequently used as a foundational blueprint for a public narrative. 

"A common tactic involves "padding" a tax return early in one's career by reporting disproportionately high assets relative to income. This creates a "financial buffer" that allows a politician to claim years later that their current wealth was already established, thereby shielding future illicit gains from scrutiny," he said. 

When the National Board of Revenue (NBR) conducted a tax intelligence probe into 150 high-profile individuals, it found that almost all had understated their income or hidden assets.

Institutional failure

The institutional failure to verify these claims is where the system truly breaks down. 

Transparency International Bangladesh (TIB) Executive Director Iftekharuzaman noted that this information on holofnama rarely seems meaningful or credible to the public. 

"This has fostered widespread mistrust, and the failure to verify these details reflects poorly on institutions like the Election Commission (EC) and the Anti-Corruption Commission (ACC). It is necessary to investigate whether tax evasion has occurred and take appropriate action where irregularities are found. While the ACC speaks of accountability, it has yet to set clear examples of enforcement," he explained.

Returning officers operate on a compressed timeline, with only a few days between the submission of nominations and their scrutiny. Field-level verification of thousands of candidates is an impossible task for the Election Commission (EC) alone. This has led to repeated calls from TIB and organisations like SHUJAN for a coordinated task force involving the NBR and the ACC.

Dr Badiul Alam Majumdar noted that while the information in affidavits should influence voters, the dominance of symbol-based voting and the lack of verification mean that "politics as a business" continues to thrive.

Iftekharuzzaman argues that the deeper issue lies in the politicisation of institutions themselves. 

"Oversight bodies have been shaped to function according to identity and status rather than rules. While individuals may change, institutional practices remain intact—one form of politicisation replacing another." he noted. 

In such a system, accountability becomes cultural rather than procedural, dependent on whether political parties themselves choose to value transparency.

Recent reform efforts have attempted to address these weaknesses. The Election System Reform Commission, featuring experts like Dr Md Abdul Alim, proposed requiring candidates to submit five years of tax returns to provide a clearer picture of wealth accumulation. 

However, legal hurdles have prevented the full implementation of such measures. While the ACC Chairman, Mohammad Abdul Momen, recently promised to examine suspicious affidavits ahead of the 13th parliamentary election, he also cautioned that investigations are bound by statutory timelines and limited manpower.

Md Akhtar Hossain, Director General (Prevention) at the ACC, provided TBS a similar response, stating, "If the election commission or mass media reports any concerns, ACC will investigate." But in reality, it is difficult for them to vet each and every individual given the manpower they have against the limited window of time.

Ultimately, a false affidavit is more than a technicality; it is a breach of the democratic contract. When candidates begin their political journeys by obscuring their true identities and assets, every subsequent public act is viewed through a lens of suspicion. 

For the holofnama to move beyond being a "carefully curated mirror" for the powerful, the state must move toward real-time verification and predictable enforcement. Until the cost of lying on an affidavit outweighs the benefit of concealing wealth, the document will remain a symbolic gesture rather than a tool for genuine accountability.