July 2024: When generations united on the streets

In July 2024, Bangladesh witnessed an extraordinary moment when people from almost every walk of life took to the streets.

Who was not there? Students, teachers, rickshaw pullers, drivers, homemakers, unemployed youth, salaried employees, small business owners and retired officials – the list could go on indefinitely.

Did they all have the same demand? Did they share the same political beliefs? Were they all driven by the same objective? Probably not. Many of those who joined the movement had never been politically active. Some students had even written on social media, "I hate politics."

What, then, brought them together?

The July movement has already been analysed from numerous perspectives, most of them political. I would like to examine it through a different lens – that of generations. My argument is simple: what began as a movement led by government job seekers gradually evolved into a movement embraced by almost every generation in Bangladesh, from Baby Boomers to Generation Alpha.

The movement began with a straightforward demand: an end to discrimination in public-sector recruitment. In Bangladesh, government job applicants are generally between the ages of 22 and 32. Unsurprisingly, the movement was initially spearheaded by members of Generation Z and the Millennial generation.

But was the demand for fair recruitment really theirs alone?

Behind every unemployed young person stands a family. A father approaching retirement quietly hopes that his son or daughter will soon shoulder the family's responsibilities. A mother waits for the day her child secures a stable future. Younger siblings dream that their elder brother or sister's first salary might finally make a long-awaited wish affordable.

The frustration over unequal opportunities therefore extended far beyond the job seekers themselves. No young person should have to blame their parents simply because they could not provide access to a quota or because they lacked an influential relative whose phone call could open doors.

The demand for equal opportunity was voiced by Gen Z and Millennials, but the anxiety behind that demand had already spread to Gen X parents and the younger members of their families. Employment discrimination was not merely an individual's problem; it was a source of uncertainty and despair for entire households.

In 2024, most university students belonged to Gen Z. For years, many had grown increasingly frustrated with the political culture prevailing in public universities. The dominance of the ruling party's student organisation, control over residential halls, overcrowded dormitories, forced participation in political programmes, extortion, free consumption of food in university halls by politically influential groups, and various forms of intimidation against students had become widely discussed realities.

The consequences extended well beyond the students themselves.

Parents watched their children earn admission to prestigious public universities through fierce competition, only to find them living in overcrowded dormitories, attending political programmes instead of classes, enduring psychological abuse or returning home emotionally exhausted.

Many of these parents belonged to Gen X. They had sent their children to university hoping to provide them with education, safety and a better future. Instead, they witnessed humiliation, insecurity and frustration. Their children's suffering gradually became their own.

Some even chose expensive private universities to shield their children from violent campus politics. Yet when partisan student politics appeared to spread there as well, many realised that the problem was no longer confined to public institutions. The frustration of Gen Z students increasingly became the frustration of Gen X parents.

The July movement also drew small business owners, ride-sharing drivers, rickshaw pullers and countless working-class people from different generations. Among them were Millennials, Gen Z and Gen X alike.

Whether it was a street vendor selling clothes from a van, a tea-stall owner, a motorcycle rider or a rickshaw puller, each had a story of hardship, harassment or injustice.

For years, many ordinary citizens had experienced abuse of authority, harassment on the streets, unlawful demands for money under the guise of traffic enforcement, extortion at various levels simply to operate small businesses and the relentless rise in the cost of living.

When a 14-year-old boy selling tea and cigarettes has to surrender much of his daily earnings as extortion money, or when a 65-year-old rickshaw puller cannot understand why he must pay the traffic police simply to operate on a particular road, discrimination ceases to be merely a question of public-sector recruitment.

For them, discrimination had another face: those connected to power enjoyed privilege, while everyone else remained vulnerable.

The resentment created by these everyday injustices merged with the movement against quota-based discrimination. In this way, Gen Z stood alongside Gen X and many older citizens on the streets of July.

As the movement expanded, retired government officials also publicly expressed their support. Many belonged to the Baby Boomer generation. They spoke out on social media, turned their profile pictures red, issued public statements and joined various solidarity initiatives.

In my view, their participation was driven not by personal gain but by conscience, morality and a sense of civic responsibility.

Most had already completed successful careers, raised their children and entered relatively stable retirement. Yet they refused to remain indifferent while young people – young enough to be their own children – were beaten, injured and killed.

Groups of retired military officers publicly expressed solidarity with the protesters, while members of their families participated in demonstrations according to their abilities.

Their contribution may not always have taken the form of direct confrontation on the streets, but it significantly strengthened the morale of those standing on the front lines. In many ways, the support of the Baby Boomer generation gave the movement broader moral legitimacy.

I also remember a child – perhaps a street child, perhaps a young labourer. A widely circulated video showed him confronting a helmeted police officer, raising his tiny clenched fist and crying, "Why did you kill my brother?"

I also remember the child who was killed by gunfire from a helicopter, despite remaining inside the home. The child belonged to Gen Alpha. Members of Gen Alpha were far too young to become protesters themselves, yet they could not escape the consequences of the violence.

The tears, fear and deaths of Gen Alpha added profound emotional force to the movement. Their suffering reminded us that political violence never confines itself to a single age group. Its consequences inevitably reach even the youngest members of society.

The July movement is often described as a Gen Z movement because they stood at its forefront. History certainly shows that students and young people have often initiated major political movements and democratic struggles – not only in Bangladesh but throughout South Asia.

Yet no successful mass movement is sustained by one generation alone.

Millennials joined in over employment, economic hardship and discrimination. Gen X stood beside the movement as parents, professionals, workers and small business owners. Baby Boomers offered moral authority and public legitimacy. Gen Alpha, directly or indirectly, became part of the movement's suffering and sacrifice.

Some marched in the streets. Others distributed food and water. Some opened their homes to protesters. Others raised their voices, offered shelter or simply refused to remain silent.

Their roles differed. Their ages differed. But the sources of their frustration were remarkably similar: discrimination, humiliation, insecurity and the denial of dignity and equal opportunity.

The July movement of 2024 was therefore never the movement of a single generation.

It became the collective expression of the aspirations, frustrations and resistance of Baby Boomers, Gen X, Millennials, Gen Z and Gen Alpha alike.

Gen Z unquestionably led from the front. That much is undeniable. But the movement drew its strength from the solidarity of many generations. Its victory, therefore, cannot belong to Gen Z alone. It belongs to all those – young and old – who, in different ways and for different reasons, stood together on the streets of July.

Anirban Rafid is a contributor. 

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