Right to assembly: Some protesters are more equal than others

"All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others," goes a saying in George Orwell's dystopian novella Animal Farm. Watching the conduct of the police in Dhaka this week, the phrase rings uncomfortably true once again.

Yesterday (27 August), Shahbagh turned into a battleground. Students marching towards Jamuna, the Chief Adviser's residence, were met with batons, teargas and water cannons. At least 50 students were injured, according to protesters while the home ministry reported eight policemen hurt. Witnesses spoke of chaos as law enforcers fired sound grenades and sprayed warm water from cannons.

"It was peaceful until we broke through the barricade," said BUET student Sifat Rana. "Then police began firing teargas shells and using water cannons." The students regrouped at Shahbagh, demanding an apology from the home adviser. By evening, they declared a "complete shutdown" of all engineering universities nationwide.

Dhaka Metropolitan Police (DMP) Commissioner Sheikh Mohammad Sajjat Ali visited the students later that night and apologised. He promised an inquiry committee, while the government announced an eight-member panel led by Energy Adviser Muhammad Fouzul Kabir Khan to review the demands of both BSc and diploma engineers. 

This is not the first time the police have clashed with protesters in recent weeks. 

Days earlier, Ebtedayee madrasah teachers marching to demand nationalisation of their jobs were dispersed at Shahbagh with water cannons and, according to participants, batons. Several teachers were injured, with at least five requiring treatment at Dhaka Medical College Hospital. 

Yet, the same rules have not applied to all. According to government notifications, all protests or public gatherings near the Chief Adviser's residence are banned. But when the National Citizen Party (NCP) staged a 25,000-strong demonstration outside Jamuna, police not only allowed it but the city corporation even arranged cold water sprays to cool participants in the summer heat. 

NCP leaders reportedly intervened in detentions. What would have brought a baton charge for students or teachers turned into state-sanctioned comfort for NCP activists.

This duality exposes the gap between the interim government's claim of neutrality and the lived reality on the streets. The police, it seems, are reverting to familiar patterns. Under the Hasina regime, they were accused of shielding ruling party supporters while cracking down on dissent. Now, in the post-Hasina landscape, the beneficiaries appear to have changed, but the playbook has not.

The symbolism is hard to miss. While students and teachers faced batons and teargas for pressing demands about careers and livelihoods, the NCP was granted space to flex its political muscle outside the most restricted zone in the city. 

"Repeated blockades at Shahbagh or attempts to march to Jamuna cannot be acceptable," Adviser Fouzul remarked. The question then lingers: why was it acceptable for the NCP?

If impartiality is the bedrock of a democratic transition, then selective enforcement erodes trust. The police's apology to students may soothe tempers in the short term, but without consistent application of the rules, credibility will remain fragile. The streets of Shahbagh have become a stage where neutrality is tested daily. For now, the lesson seems clear: in Bangladesh's political theatre, some protests remain more equal than others.