Urban planning in Bangladesh: Can it shed its elitist past?

Urban planning in Bangladesh currently stands at a critical juncture, both philosophically and practically. Historically rooted in colonial legacies, planning has long served the interests of the ruling elite, rather than addressing the needs of the majority. 

As the nation enters what many call the dawn of a "new Bangladesh", an essential question arises: will urban planning be granted a second chance—a chance not merely to serve the privileged few but to genuinely reflect the aspirations of the many?

A history of exclusion 

The history of urban planning in Bangladesh is one marred by elitism and exclusion. From its inception, planning has been employed as a tool to reinforce class divisions, ensuring comfort and order for the affluent while marginalising the majority. 

The planned residential areas of Wari, Gulshan, and Banani serve as telling examples of this elitist trajectory. Initially conceived as orderly, modern neighbourhoods, these zones have evolved into sanctuaries for the wealthy, business tycoons, and political elites—worlds away from the daily realities of ordinary citizens. 

Even today, planning initiatives remain heavily skewed in favour of such affluent areas. Public resources, infrastructure, and governance attention are disproportionately directed towards these "planned zones", while vast unplanned areas are neglected—labelled chaotic and deemed unworthy of investment. As it stands, urban planning has become a mechanism for entrenching socioeconomic hierarchies rather than challenging them.

Failed plans and forgotten cities

Although multiple efforts have been made to plan Dhaka and other major cities since 1917, most plans have failed to materialise, particularly in the unplanned parts of these cities. Grandiose regeneration proposals often remain on paper, symbolic of expensive dreams achievable only at the expense of the working class. 

One illustrative example is a regeneration plan for Khulna city, which included the demolition of slums that housed thousands of urban poor. This phenomenon is not without precedent. The dark chapter of Sanjay Gandhi's forced slum evictions in Delhi during the 1970s serves as a chilling reminder of how political interests have historically commandeered urban planning, treating the urban poor as expendable. 

Bangladesh's own strategic planning history, dating back to the 1960s, rarely deviates from this narrative. Despite decades of experience, planning remains captive to elitist biases, colonial practices, and political manoeuvring.

Planning's bias towards the elite has further compounded injustices in cities beyond Dhaka. The capital city is the most glaring example of this centralisation, with urban planning overwhelmingly Dhaka-centric, while other urban centres languish in neglect.

A visit to regional cities such as Khulna quickly reveals the disparity—Khulna still lacks a functional traffic signalling system. Its streets remain narrow and unplanned, largely due to weak enforcement of setback regulations. 

Adding to this malaise, peri-urban land developments are mushrooming without any planning permission, worsening the situation in smaller cities and municipalities. Why such bias? 

Part of the answer lies in the concentration of political power within Dhaka. Political elites, residing in the capital, focus their concerns and visions solely on its prosperity, relegating other urban centres to an afterthought, devoid of comprehensive planning, infrastructural foresight, or meaningful investment.

The battle for Bangladesh's urban future

Today, a visible conflict between urban planners and powerful real estate developers over building height regulations in Dhaka reflects the ongoing struggle. Planners advocating for rational height limits and sustainable growth face stiff resistance from well-connected developers prioritising profits over urban coherence. This conflict underscores a deeper issue: planning in Bangladesh is often distorted by vested interests averse to change.

Moreover, urban plans for municipalities and cities are frequently crafted by external consultants with limited understanding of local contexts. Knowledge elitism persists—most planning consultants are drawn from elite universities, while little effort is made to develop municipal-level planning teams. 

Thousands of trained urban planners remain underemployed, while the practice of urban planning remains monopolised by a few firms and individuals. 

I have been teaching urban planning since 1998, and over the years, I have witnessed the growing frustration among my students. They are acutely aware that it is highly unlikely they will secure positions as urban planners within government organisations. 

Many of them often ask me a disheartening yet pertinent question: what is the point of earning a planning degree when there are so few urban planning jobs available in Bangladesh? In reality, the majority of my students are now seeking opportunities abroad, particularly in the United States, in the hope of finding better prospects.

A call for proletarian planning

It is time to abandon these grandiose, impractical, and prohibitively expensive master plans, often designed as showpieces influenced by foreign study tours and international consultants. Instead, Bangladesh must now demand a paradigmatic shift—from elitist planning to proletarian planning. This is not merely an administrative adjustment but a philosophical reawakening.

We must move away from rigid modernist approaches and the traditional zoning system towards more flexible, discretionary zoning—an approach that empowers local communities to shape the future of their neighbourhoods. 

Participatory planning is essential: inclusive, implementable frameworks forged through collaboration between city corporations and planning authorities such as RAJUK. In our traditional neighbourhoods, decisions must be made by the people, for the people, with respect for local knowledge, needs, and aspirations.

Urban planning in Bangladesh must free itself from the narrow dreams of a privileged few and respond to the collective will of its citizens. Only then can we build cities that are equitable, resilient, and reflective of our shared future.

The question remains: will urban planning seize this second chance? Or will it continue as an instrument of exclusion, clinging to colonial shadows while ignoring the dawn of a truly inclusive Bangladesh?

Tanjil Sowgat is a Professor in the Urban and Rural Planning Discipline at Khulna University.

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.