Bangladesh — election, erasure, empathy and victory

As Bangladesh approaches the 2026 elections, a question yet to be raised by political commentators is: who speaks for the communities who have been invisible for over fifty years? Are any human rights scholars, renowned journalists and activists examining the enduring marginalisation of Biharis (Non-Bengali Urdu-speaking communities) in Bangladesh, highlighting the risks of exploitation in the 2026 elections?

The roots of their predicament trace back to 16 December 1971, which rendered them stateless. Alleged as collaborators by the newly independent Bangladesh, they were restricted to makeshift settlements that soon became semi-permanent "camps".

Pakistan, expected to absorb those loyal to it, repatriated only a fraction, roughly 170,000 individuals, between the mid-1970s and early 1980s. The remainder were callously left in carefully managed administrative limbo, neither fully integrated in Bangladesh nor welcomed back in Pakistan.

Legal recognition in Bangladesh has progressed slowly and unevenly. The 2003 High Court ruling granted citizenship to a small group of post-1971 born residents.

The 2008 judgment extended broader citizenship and voting rights but those who were adults during the 1971 war were not covered there. Hence, citizenship status remains a complex issue, although some sources suggest they can apply for citizenship through naturalisation.

Between1971 and 2024, Bangladesh experienced approximately 15 governing authorities, including elected governments, military regimes and caretaker administrations. Despite changes in leadership and regime type, policy outcomes for Biharis remained largely unchanged. Citizenship has become a legal formality rather than a lived reality.

My apprehension that these communities in the so-called camps will again be further marginalised in the 2026 elections is grounded in observable patterns that are intertwined too.

First, Pakistan's stance on this humanitarian issue effectively removes an important layer of accountability. Decades of occasional symbolic statements and too-limited action have replaced substantive advocacy. Without external pressure, the Bihari question fades from political agendas in Dhaka, leaving communities reliant on courts rather than political leaders.

Flights and connectivity between the two countries now exist; there is no logistical barrier. Pakistan could bring back all those who wish to return, yet the delay continues, prolonging the injustice.

Second, an incredible uncritical admiration for political figures such as Khaleda Zia, without recognition of the historical controversies surrounding leaders like Major Ziaur Rahman, a former Pakistan Army major who defected during 1971, muddies the context of policy decision, errors or lapses.

Selective memory effaces responsibility and devalues the relevance to address historical injustices. My personal hurt is that Pakistan has largely remained silent on the plight of communities that remained loyal during 1971, while those who oversaw the dismemberment of the country were politically rewarded.

Many journalists and analysts refrain from bold reporting, and television screens remain silent. In private conversations, they tell me that the governments discourage such narratives. This absence of advocacy leaves the Biharis invisible in both history and contemporary politics — a reality that compounds their marginalisation as elections approach.

Third, the gagging of the full historical record in the name of diplomatic normalisation allows governments to pursue 'forward-looking' relations without acknowledging the betrayals, collective punishment and systemic neglect that defined the Biharis' experience.

Fourth, even Islamist political parties in Pakistan, despite ideological affinity and historical claims, have largely failed to advocate for the stranded communities.

This absence underscores the fact that loyalty or shared identity alone does not generate political action or protection. Even from the Islamic point of view, mere diplomatic resets cannot replace justice, and burying betrayal and wounds is not reconciliation.

Sadly, Islam is often politicised and used to justify oppression, particularly of women's rights. I hear no voice advocating for taking this matter to the Islamic Ideology Council to seek a verdict on the abandonment of nearly 324,000 Pakistani citizens for over 54 years.

Finally, bilateral engagement is increasingly transactional. Military partnerships, commerce, cricket and cultural exchanges dominate headlines, yielding economic or strategic benefits, yet leaving unresolved social injustices unaddressed. Communities that offer no immediate utility are easily sidelined.

On a personal note, the optics of this are deeply ironic. My generation learned from widely circulated histories (or propaganda?) that Bengalis fought for liberation because they or their interests were hurt by the elites of West Pakistan. What a turn of fate. Today, those who speak Bangla appear on our TV screens speaking Urdu and shake hands with rulers.

Choosing peace over prejudice is the noblest and wisest choice, but what excuse remains for structural, symbolic and societal inclusion of the stateless and long-shunned?

Bangladesh now faces a moral and political test. The Bihari question is not a relic; it is a living challenge revealing how selective memory and transactional diplomacy perpetuate exclusion.

Leadership that claims moral authority cannot allow this population to be forgotten again. Housing, education, employment and civic inclusion must complement citizenship on paper. Recognition without integration is only partial justice.

This is Bangladesh's chance to correct past injustices, reframe its intellectual maturity, reflections and superiority, and honour its virtuous obligations by graciously liberating itself from the burden of an exaggerated 1971 history and the atrocities committed against unarmed pro-Pakistan people.

The nation can look at the third generation of these helpless communities living in ghettos with empathy and embrace them as equal citizens.

Doing so will not only ease inferred tensions with its brother Pakistan, but may also serve as a moral reprimand to those thriving on hate politics, and bring demography into the service of humanity.

As the nation navigates its electoral future, ignoring the Biharis risks repeating more than half a century of desertion and disregard. Elections must not merely count these unfortunate citizens; they must involve them. The 2026 ballot offers a chance to finally address the unfinished work of history.

Being disowned is the most enduring injustice, and Bangladesh must ensure that this time it does not happen again. It might even be pitched as another liberation and victory.