When the mob rules

On Thursday, National Citizen Party (NCP) leader Sarjis Alam stirred up debate with a post on social media: "If High Court verdicts can be influenced by mob pressure, then what's the point of having a High Court at all?"

His comment came after the High Court dismissed a petition challenging the Election Commission's gazette that officially named Ishraque as the mayor of Dhaka South City Corporation (DSCC).

That very day, thousands of Ishraque's supporters flooded the streets, blocking key roads and demanding that the petition be rejected. Just hours later, the court ruled in their favour.

But Sarjis's criticism didn't sit well with everyone. Many pointed out the irony—just days earlier, his own party, the NCP, had broken protest rules and demonstrated outside the Chief Adviser's residence. Their pressure campaign led the interim government to ban the Awami League.

While some approved of the outcome, many believe the method used set a troubling precedent for how political decisions are influenced in the country. 

But this whole ordeal brings to light the fact that mobs, instead of being contained, now enjoy a dangerous degree of power in the country. Leading many to question if the country has turned into a 'Mobocracy'. 

Following Sheikh Hasina's ouster, a power vacuum was created. With the government in disarray, formal security forces struggled to maintain order. Law enforcement agencies withdrew or went into hiding after being attacked on the streets. Police abandoned their posts for safety, creating a vacuum. In that window of lawlessness mobs surged, targeting anyone supposedly associated with the old regime.

Mob lynchings ranged from revenge attacks on Awami League activists to purely local feuds; the victims included government officials, university staff, and ordinary citizens accused of minor crimes. 

In the aftermath, Nobel laureate Muhammad Yunus was appointed head of an interim government, which pledged a return to democratic norms. But almost a year later, what has unfolded is not reform, but an alarming spiral into mobocracy. What began as a handful of headline-grabbing incidents has become a full-blown culture of impunity. 

And so a dangerous message echoed across the nation: if you want something, assemble a mob.

From students to political leaders, activists to ordinary citizens, the line between protest and vigilantism is being erased with terrifying speed.

The shift began subtly. The first major flashpoint came just twenty days after Hasina's fall, on 25 August, when students led by Hasnat Abdullah and Sarjis Alam clashed with a section of Ansar members, who had threatened the safety of these young leaders. Over 40 were injured; 388 Ansars were later arrested.

On 11 September, in Cox's Bazar, political strongman Mohammad Farokul Islam led a group that violently assaulted women and proudly circulated the footage. Just a week later, on 

On 18 September, a mentally ill man was beaten to death at Dhaka University — one of the country's top educational institutions — while another man, a former student leader, was lynched at Jahangirnagar University.

These were not isolated incidents. In November, anti-media protests targeting The Daily Star and Prothom Alo escalated to physical threats and symbolic slaughter of a cow. Days later in Chattogram, a protest for a religious leader turned deadly. Lawyer Saiful Islam Alif was hacked to death, a chilling reminder of what happens when mobs claim moral authority.

Cultural and gendered repression also took violent form. A women's football match was halted in January. Two women were assaulted in March for smoking. In the same month, mobs raided homes, stormed police stations, and forced questionable legal outcomes.

In February, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman's Dhanmondi 32 residence was ravaged by a raging crowd including students following a social media call for a "Bulldozer Procession Towards Dhanmondi 32" by student leaders like Hasnat Abdullah and Ali Ahsan Zonaed.

By 29 April, mob beatings of public figures like actor Siddique blurred the line between justice and retribution. By May, the phenomenon had metastasized. With the NCP organising a 25,000-strong siege of the Chief Adviser's residence and party leaders intervening in police detentions, mobocracy had become institutionalised.

Throughout this timeline, what stands out is not just the frequency or brutality of these incidents, but the growing comfort with which they occur. Media intimidation, public assaults, and the hijacking of legal processes have become distressingly routine. Institutions have not merely failed to respond — they've quietly stepped aside.

The mounting disorder quickly split onto the media. Journalists and newspaper offices became new flashpoints for crowd anger.

Over late 2024 and early 2025, several major newsrooms were harassed or attacked during demonstrations. For example, in November 2024, the Editors' Council of Bangladesh publicly decried coordinated sit-ins and vandalism at newspaper offices, saying "incidents of sit-ins, attacks and vandalism have occurred in front of the offices of Prothom Alo and Daily Star.'

On multiple days, groups of protesters blocked the Karwan Bazar building of Prothom Alo – Bangladesh's highest-circulation Bengali daily – chanting slogans and demanding its closure. Police had to cordon off the street to disperse these crowds

Likewise, staff at The Daily Star (the top English daily) reported crowds gathering outside their press building, at times throwing rocks or shouting down journalists. In one shocking demonstration, protesters even slaughtered a cow outside the Prothom Alo office, accusing the paper of being "pro-India" Janakantha's printing press was briefly occupied by demonstrators.

Graphics: TBS

So, how did we get here?

Dr Tawohidul Haque, associate professor and criminologist at Dhaka University, warns that mob behaviour spreads like a communicable disease: "If this mob is accepted somewhere, or if the opportunity is given for it to gain social, legal, or political legitimacy, then various people take advantage of it in various ways."

He points fingers at all major parties — NCP, BNP, Jamaat — for using mob tactics to forward their agendas. "Our appeal to the government from the beginning was not to tolerate mob violence in any way… If just one or two such incidents were punished, today's situation would not exist."

Yet the government has remained inert in many cases. Law enforcement stands confused and directionless. According to Dr Haque, the police often ask themselves: "Who is more powerful — the mob or the person being targeted?"

In the absence of some government directives, police hesitate. "They did not receive any strong comments or instructions from the government," he says. "So they are haunted by fear of reprisal, criticism, or departmental action."

Following Sheikh Hasina's ouster, a power vacuum was created. With the government in disarray, formal security forces struggled to maintain order. Law enforcement agencies withdrew or went into hiding after being attacked on the streets. Police abandoned their posts for safety, creating a vacuum. In that window of lawlessness mobs surged, targeting anyone supposedly associated with the old regime.

Instead of curbing violence, online influencers and political opportunists have added fuel to the fire. Videos, live streams, and manipulated narratives have justified and amplified mob actions.

Barrister Jyotirmoy Barua, a senior Supreme Court lawyer, has long decried the rise of mob culture. "The continuous tolerance of one incident after another has resulted in this situation today."

He blames the Ministry of Home Affairs for failing to direct the police. "Despite much discussion about police reforms, in reality, we haven't seen much change," he says.

And crucially, he reminds us that mob violence remains criminal, even if the target is a criminal. "Whether it's directed at someone suspected of being a Shibir member, Awami League supporter, or a thief, it remains a crime."

Former Inspector General of Police (IGP) Muhammad Nurul Huda echoes this sentiment. "These incidents can't be prevented as they happen all of a sudden. But after the event, the government must set examples for strict punishment."

Yet responses, like in the Lalmatia assault case, remain lukewarm. The Home Affairs Adviser has even dismissed the idea of a police commission reform demanded by many.

With over 150 protests in the capital since the fall of the previous government, it is clear that the streets have become Bangladesh's new courtroom. But when every grievance — however legitimate — finds expression through mob justice, the very fabric of lawful governance is at stake.

All the major political parties Bangladesh Nationalist Party, the National Citizen Party (NCP) and Jamaat-e-Islami, have systematically encouraged, enabled, and in many cases, organised mob violence to further their political goals. Involvement of extremist religious elements is also suspected when it comes to mob violence. Their repeated use of the streets as a stage for coercion has entrenched the idea that rule-breaking is a legitimate route to power.

Although somewhat powerless in the early days with little to no support from law enforcement agencies, the nine months in the interim governments must shoulder much of the blame for not being more proactive in curtailing mob violence. This inability to uphold the law has turned political stunts into a national crisis. 

Sarjis's Facebook post was on point, yet it lacked self-awareness. When protest, pressure, and populism dictate policy, then courts, institutions, and the police cease to matter. What replaces them is a theatre of chaos, fuelled by silence at the top and hysteria at the bottom.