"Joy Bangla!" or "Victory to Bengal," the phrase that ushered in Bangladeshi freedom from West Pakistan in 1971. It symbolized the struggle against Pakistani oppression and the dream of a culturally free, democratic, and fair Bangladesh. This phrase was screamed by kids and adults alike as a protest against the violent and unrepresentative Pakistani government at the time.
An oft-regaled story in my family is of my father when he was a child growing up in East Pakistan shortly before the fledgling revolution. He saw a group of Pakistani soldiers on the streets whilst in a rickshaw with my Uncle. As he saw them, the rebellious spirit of the air took over and my dad, a little over 5, yelled out "JOY BANGLA! JOY BANGLA!" The rickshaw wala instantly became a Tour De France competitor and booked it for the hills. Even my father, at such a young age knew the call, heard its promise, and cried out for its realization. It was a declaration of liberation against oppression and they won, attaining freedom in 1971.
As an American, I grew up learning of this phrase and what it was supposed to mean in the historical context. When I too was a child like my father, I would scream the phrase, though being an American, it was naturally imbued with more privilege. Family members and friends alike would laugh and smile when I yelled Joy Bangla after being allowed to eat in the basement, watching TV instead of at the dining room table. After some time, I was told more of the profound gravity of the slogan. It wasn't just a phrase to espouse patriotism. It was the fuel that gave strength to my ancestors' fight for liberation.
Joy Bangla is not what it used to be when I was growing up. The phrase is now ripe with contention as the youth have shaken Bangladesh to its core. This is because of the student-led revolution that forced Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina, the authoritarian leader for the last 15 years, to flee the nation, setting Bangladesh ablaze with a newfound freedom once more. And once more, since independence, Bangladesh is asking itself: Who are they? Why are they? And what do they want to be?
For years, the Hasina administration was seen as a stable leader in a difficult region. This stems from the economic development Bangladesh went through and her ability to subdue the most religiously radical members of her nation. On paper, a woman who was able to stabilize Bangladesh after a series of military coups and political dynasties was seen as a success in the region. A beacon for those who saw her as not only one of the few female prime ministers in the region, but in the world. This was an illusion born from her profound stranglehold on every government sector. In truth, she was an authoritarian in a sari. Abusing her power, she clamped down on any person or press that was against her regime.
Such can be seen in August 2018, when renowned Bangladeshi photographer and activist Shahidul Alam was arrested shortly after giving a live interview to Al Jazeera, where he criticized the government's response to student-led protests in Dhaka. The protests, sparked by road safety concerns, had grown into broader demonstrations against corruption and authoritarianism. Even in 2018, the incipient fire in the youth could be observed manifesting. Bangladesh's future was being challenged from the next generation. But they would still need more time as her grip was too strong.
As for the government's response? Why would her family ever rebuke her? Hasina was given allowances by her own government because cronyism and nepotism were more important to her than the democratic values the nation aspired to uphold. From the lower echelons of government to even foreign parliaments, her corruption was relentless. Tulip Siddiq, Hasina's niece and a UK Member of Parliament, yes really, faced allegations in Bangladesh for illegally acquiring a plot of land in Dhaka's diplomatic enclaves of Baridhara and Gulshan, two of the most upscale neighborhoods in the city. The Anti-Corruption Commission implicated her and others in a broader investigation into abuses of power during Hasina's administration. Another blatant example, of which by the way there are many, was her appointment of family members and loyalists to key government, military, and economic posts. Her son, Sajeeb Wazed Joy, served as her unofficial IT advisor while holding immense influence over the country’s digital policy and surveillance apparatus. Her sister, Sheikh Rehana, was quietly granted privileges and influence within state dealings without holding elected office. Close friends and party loyalists were placed at the helm of major state-owned banks and corporations, many of which became mired in corruption scandals. Even the judiciary and Election Commission were not spared, often stacked with figures tied to the Awami League, ensuring that challenges to her rule rarely saw daylight. Through this tightly woven web of loyalty, Hasina built a political fortress, one where dissent was suffocated not just by law, but by loyalty bought and sealed.
In return for her patronage and appointments, her worst behavior was continually unchecked. But it was also overlooked by those abroad and of higher income levels due to perceived economic progress. All of this was justified because she had allegedly transformed Bangladesh from a destitute nation into a nation slowly on the rise. Under the guise of economic development, she enriched her associates, shielded her family, and systematically suppressed any dissent against her. The truth was plain as day: the poorest and most disadvantaged were being pacified with incremental progress while her powerful allies amassed fortunes.
Bangladesh's economy has grown fast, but not fair. Under Sheikh Hasina, GDP rose, high rises shot up, and the country made headlines as an emerging market. But beneath the numbers is a more sobering story. The wealthiest 10% now take home over 40% of the nation's income, while the poorest half have seen their share shrink. In cities like Dhaka, the skyline gleams with foreign investment and luxury condos, even as working-class families crowd into tin-roofed homes steps away. The extreme poverty in Bangladesh is unparalleled in the Western world. When I was about 10 years old, I was privileged enough to visit Bangladesh. I still remember the unsettling sight of children my age, who looked at me with such desperation. At the time, I didn’t even know kids could look this sad. Banging on my windows as we pulled out of the airport, I still see their faces clamoring for anything to abrade their hunger. I remember being so afraid, not only of the banging, but how much they looked like me. It was my first true realization of how fortunate I was to be able to be born and raised in the United States of America. It deeply saddens me to see that the root causes are still being woefully neglected. The gap has widened so much that Bangladesh's inequality index is now at one of its highest points in decades. Add to that a broken tax system, where the affluent barely contribute and the impoverished pay for their survival, and you get a system where "development" feels like a private club. For the country's youth, the promise of progress rang hollow. They grew up in a nation that's supposedly ascending, but where success depends more on who you know than what you know. The discontent amongst youth was building. The nation was one catalyst away from another fight.
The spark came in 2024, when students took to the streets demanding fairness in opportunity. Their poverty and despair became too much to bear. For years, civil service jobs in Bangladesh, particularly in government and state-run institutions, had been disproportionately reserved for those tied to the ruling Awami League through family connections or political loyalty.
The system heavily favored quota placements. Over 56% of all government jobs were reserved, including a large portion for descendants of freedom fighters, many of whom happened to be aligned with the ruling class. That left hundreds of thousands of qualified young graduates fighting over what little remained. The students were not demanding a revolution at first. They wanted reform. They sought amendments to the quota system so that merit, not lineage, would determine their futures. Fairly and rightly so.
But instead of acquiescing to the request, Sheikh Hasina dismissed their grievances, calling them spoiled, misguided, and even went so far as to brand their movement as unpatriotic, traitors to the very nation they were fighting to improve. During a press conference, Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina addressed the student protests against the reinstated quota system in government jobs. In response to a question about the protesters' demands, she remarked, "If the grandchildren of the freedom fighters don't get quota benefits, should the grandchildren of Razakars get the benefit?" This response was the death nail in her leadership. A political miscalculation of the highest order. The term "Razakar" refers to those who collaborated with Pakistani forces during Bangladesh's 1971 liberation war and is considered a severe insult, implying betrayal of the nation by students who just wanted a chance at a better tomorrow. Imagine calling students, begging for help, traitors. I know not a nation who can have a population that both loves it and is mute on criticism. To love one’s country is to want better for it, not to be ignorant of its woes. Hasina's comment was perceived by many students as a direct attack, equating their calls for reform with treachery. This statement intensified the protests, leading students to adopt slogans like "Who are you? Who am I? Razakar, Razakar," turning the term on its head as a form of protest against what they saw as authoritarian governance. Pretty clever.
Naturally, the authoritarian did what they do best: destroy. The backlash was swift and brutal: arrests, surveillance, intimidation. With hundreds of individuals killed during the protests and subsequent crackdowns. Among the victims was 25-year-old Mir Mahfuzur Rahman, a university student and freelancer who, while distributing food and water to fellow protesters in Dhaka, was shot in the forehead by security forces. A video captured moments before his death showed Rahman handing out water bottles, embodying the spirit of solidarity that defined the movement.
May he rest in peace knowing that his fellow students prevailed. Hasina fled for India where she remains today after the students marched towards her presidential palace. In the aftermath, Bangladeshi Nobel laureate and political dissident Muhammad Yunus took over the nation. Professor Yunus, internationally renowned for pioneering the concept of microfinance through his Grameen Bank, assumed leadership of an interim government with the monumental task of rebuilding both democratic institutions and public trust. Despite his global accolades, including the Nobel Peace Prize in 2006, Yunus faces the complex challenge of steering Bangladesh through its post-authoritarian transition. The nation needs desperate and drastic action, however, it also needs time. Time. The most fickle of resources. Patience amongst the Bangladeshi people is one of his highest challenges.
As the nation began its tentative steps toward recovery, the phrase Joy Bangla began to feel as though it was an entrapment from the Hasina era. She had appropriated the once-liberating call to deploy ruthless attacks against her own citizens. So whilst some rejected the idea of dismissing the revolutionary phrase entirely, others wanted a clean break. The expression that I grew up believing to be pure was anything but anymore. I struggled with this at the time. There was a sense of sadness, that the Bangladesh I was connected to had been severed. Was my, small connection now totally gone? Was the hyphen in my name solely rendered as American rather than Bengali-American?
As I dealt with these questions in the U.S, the nation is also grappling with its own identity. As Yunus endeavors to reconstruct a hollowed-out nation, its people find themselves in a state of metamorphosis. The revolutionary fervor that toppled an autocrat now needed to be channeled into rebuilding - not just governmental structures, but the very essence of national identity. This profound transition would be tested during one of Bangladesh's most significant cultural celebrations.
Pohela Boishakh, the Bengali New Year celebration, took place Monday, April 14th, 2025. I wondered what the event would be like as my parents turned on the livestream. Would they be too intimidated by the recent tragedy? Would they be disillusioned with the slow pace of change under the interim government?
Right before livestream, I thought once more of the phrase Joy Bangla. I wanted to whisper it, but I was confused. "They don't seem to want it anymore, how can I be so bold?" I felt disconnected, unsure if I had any right to invoke a phrase that had become so complicated in its homeland.
Then the event began, instead of hesitation, what I witnessed was a groundswell of support from all the suppressed and marginalized groups. It was beautiful. This year's Pohela Boishakh felt like a collective exhale after years of muffled hope. As dusk fell over Ramna Park, a joint China–Bangladesh light show transformed the National Museum facade into a living tapestry of shared aspirations of all those who fought for freedom once more. The beautiful voices of singing girls, the masterful tabla playing all swelled the space with fun and joy. Something all of Bangladesh hasn’t experienced in a long time. Drones traced the contours of the Liberation War monument, then bloomed into the soaring silhouette of two students who had died in service of the fight. In one breathtaking sequence, the pink National flower, or Shapla Phul, also illuminated the crowd not only physically but emotionally. Their faces lit by color and possibility. One attendee expressed, "I have never seen anything like this before. It's like a dream come true." Another remarked, "This celebration is beyond words. It brings hope and joy to everyone here." These sentiments echoed throughout the crowd, highlighting a collective sense of renewal and unity. It was the kind of moment many felt "could never have happened under Hasina."
In the end, as I saw the beautiful women dancing in their red and white saris, and the hopeful young men hit the dhol, and the children laughing and playing, I saw the truth: phrase or no phrase, it doesn't matter. Whether or not the Joy Bangla is excommunicated or brought back in the fold, Bangladeshis have reaffirmed their fire for change. Their commitment to realize the true dreams of 1971. And this time, it is the new generation that will hopefully take the nation to the joyest of places.
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Notes
- [Bangladesh's Slide Toward Autocracy - Foreign Affairs](https://www.foreignaffairs.com/bangladesh/bangladeshs-slide-toward-autocracy)
- [Bangladesh: Events of 2022 - Human Rights Watch](https://www.hrw.org/world-report/2023/country-chapters/bangladesh)
- [Bangladesh: Photographer Shahidul Alam detained after protests comments - Al Jazeera](https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2018/8/6/bangladesh-photographer-shahidul-alam-detained-after-protests-comments)
- [Bangladesh has been a development success story. Now, protests threaten its stability - NPR](https://www.npr.org/sections/goatsandsoda/2023/08/10/1193148133/bangladesh-has-been-a-development-success-story-now-protests-threaten-its-stabi)
- [Sheikh Hasina's autocratic tendencies are threatening Bangladesh's future - The Economist](https://www.economist.com/asia/2023/08/10/sheikh-hasinas-autocratic-tendencies-are-threatening-bangladeshs-future)
- [Bangladesh's Quota System: A Source of Discrimination - The Diplomat](https://thediplomat.com/2023/07/bangladeshs-quota-system-a-source-of-discrimination/)
- [The Fall of Sheikh Hasina: How Bangladesh's Students Toppled an Autocrat - Foreign Policy](https://foreignpolicy.com/2024/08/15/bangladesh-sheikh-hasina-student-protests-quota-democracy/)
- [Bangladesh crisis: Sheikh Hasina resigns and flees country amid protests - BBC News](https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-67021482)
- [Muhammad Yunus appointed head of Bangladesh's interim government - Anadolu Agency](https://www.aa.com.tr/en/asia-pacific/muhammad-yunus-appointed-head-of-bangladeshs-interim-government/3061753)
- [Bangladesh Development Update: Towards a More Inclusive Growth - World Bank](https://www.worldbank.org/en/country/bangladesh/publication/bangladesh-development-update-towards-more-inclusive-growth)
- [National Integrity System Assessment Bangladesh - Transparency International](https://www.ti-bangladesh.org/beta3/index.php/en/research-policy/national-integrity-system-assessment)
Extremely well-analyzed, yet compellingly emotional. Though written from afar, the article offers deep insights that capture Bangladesh's current landscape with striking clarity and detail. It will provide the second generation of Bangladeshis growing up in the U.S. a thoughtful lens to understand the complexities of what transpired—and why.
Firoze Chaudhuri is outstanding, especially when he delivers sharp punches like "In truth, she was an authoritarian in a sari", or "'Development' feels like a private club". He sums up the last fifteen years masterfully with, "They grew up in a nation... where success depends more on who you know than what you know."
It's devastating, but it's the truth.
Very well-written, insightful op-ed regarding the current state of Bangladesh. This is worthy of publication in an international affairs magazine.