Democracy beyond elections

As Bangladesh approaches its next national election cycle in 2026, the stakes have never been higher. Over the past few decades, the country has experienced the failure of democratic promises — an electoral process repeatedly held hostage by elite rivalry, populist rhetoric, and centralised power.

While electoral democracy remains essential, its limits are increasingly visible. Today, we must confront a pressing question: Is voting once every five years enough to ensure meaningful citizen participation and democratic accountability?

The answer, emerging from lived political experience, is no. Elections are a necessary condition for democracy, but far from sufficient. The future of Bangladesh's democratic transition depends not only on fair polls but on radically expanding how citizens engage with the state continuously, directly, and collectively.

The limits of representative democracy

While the people of Bangladesh took part in several successful uprisings against oppressive regimes, they largely remain excluded from governance beyond election day. Once the ballots are counted, citizens are relegated to passive spectatorship while a small political elite, often entrenched across party lines, wields real power. These elected representatives, rather than serving as custodians of the public interest, frequently operate with minimal oversight.

This democratic deficit is not accidental; it is structural. The commissions formed under the current interim government have attempted to recommend reforms, but many remain bound by the narrow logic of representative democracy.

They assume elected politicians can and will regulate themselves. Bangladesh's political history suggests otherwise. From duty-free car imports for MPs to bipartisan silence on economic privileges, there is ample evidence that elites across the spectrum collude more often than they confront one another.

The situation is not unique to Bangladesh. Across the globe, representative democracies are struggling with declining trust, growing inequality, and political alienation. In this context, expanding the meaning and mechanisms of democracy is not only desirable but also imperative.

Why direct democracy?

Direct democracy is often misunderstood as mere referendums or recalls. It is much broader and more transformative. It is a system in which citizens, individually and collectively, participate in governance not only by electing leaders but also by shaping decisions, holding institutions accountable, and ensuring that power is dispersed rather than concentrated.

Inspired by Jean-Jacques Rousseau's idea of the "general will," direct democracy reclaims sovereignty for the people, not only symbolically but also institutionally. Rousseau famously warned that in England, the people believed they were free only because they had the right to vote. The moment they elected their representatives, they became captives once again. This critique resonates deeply in Bangladesh, where electoral democracy often serves to legitimise elite dominance rather than empowering citizens.

A deeper, more participatory form of democracy, sometimes called "collective citizen democracy," can offer a way out of this impasse. It privileges equality of outcomes, not just opportunities. In a society marked by vast disparities in power, simply providing equal chances is not enough.

Democracy should also be extended to other domains of public life: with the establishment of community policing, democratizing gender relations, governance of industrial relations, education, health, and social protection.  Systems must be built to disproportionately empower the marginalised, such as rural farmers, garment workers, women, ethnic minorities, and the urban poor, to shape policy and hold elites accountable.

How can this be done?

Bangladesh does not need to start from scratch. The country already has local governance structures — ward shabhas, open budget meetings- that can be transformed into legally mandated citizen assemblies. These bodies must be endowed with constitutional authority to make decisions, monitor officials, and even recall underperforming or corrupt representatives.

Moreover, the proposed bicameral parliament should not become another elite enclave. Rather, the upper chamber should be composed of delegates selected by collectives of professional, labour, gender, and ethnic organisations. These organisations must be independent, inclusive, and democratically governed. The power of recall must also be extended to these forums, allowing the grassroots to remove their representatives if they lose legitimacy or become co-opted.

In parallel, permanent national commissions for health, education, labour, gender, and Indigenous rights should be established, independent of the executive branch of the government, and accountable to both parliament and citizen assemblies. Unlike existing bodies, which are often toothless and politically compromised, these commissions must have real enforcement powers and inclusive governance structures.

The Electoral Reform Commission's recommendation to introduce referendums, recall mechanisms, and a "no vote" option is a step forward. But unless these tools are embedded within a larger architecture of participatory governance, they risk becoming symbolic gestures rather than transformative shifts.

Why it matters now

These reforms are not abstract ideals, but they are political necessities. Bangladesh's democratic system has long been vulnerable to backsliding. Centralised power, weakened institutions, and a lack of genuine checks and balances have made it easy for ruling parties to dominate the state apparatus, suppress dissent, and undermine public trust.

The current interim government, formed after a popular uprising and with a mandate to deliver structural reform, has a historic opportunity. If it limits itself to procedural tweaks, the window for genuine transformation may close — perhaps for another generation. But if it moves boldly, building a coalition across political parties and civil society, it can institutionalise a democratic order where power flows from the bottom up, not the top down.

Doing so would require constitutional amendments, legal reforms, and broad political consensus. It would also require a cultural shift and a move away from viewing politics as a game for elites toward seeing it as a shared responsibility of all citizens.

In Bangladesh today, calls for "something new" are growing louder from students, farmers, professionals, and the urban middle class. These voices do not just want new faces in power; they want a new form of politics, one that responds to their needs and includes them in the decisions that shape their lives.

Implementing direct democracy does not mean abandoning elections or parliaments. It means completing them by building permanent structures that enable citizens to exercise continuous, meaningful power. Such a transformation would not only make democracy more resilient; it would also make it a reality. For the sake of democratic legitimacy, institutional accountability, and public trust, Bangladesh must seize this moment. A new social contract is possible if we dare to imagine it and, more importantly, build it.

Mirza M Hassan is a Senior Research Fellow, and Aishwarya Sanjukta Roy Proma is a Research Associate at the BRAC Institute of Governance and Development (BIGD).

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the opinions and views of The Business Standard.