Confronting Brutal Crimes, Political Consensus and Discord

Crime Investigation Departmenr (CID) men at work. UNB

The recent wave of brutal crimes in Bangladesh has pierced the nation’s collective psyche. The murder of Sohag, a scrap trader in Dhaka’s Mitford area, whose head was crushed with a stone in broad daylight, was horrifying enough. But what followed was even more chilling. In Khulna, expelled Jubo Dal leader Mahbubur Rahman Molla was shot and then had the tendons of his legs severed—a method of killing so deliberate and cruel it left the community stunned. And in Chandpur, a mosque khatib, Maulana ANM Nur Rahman Madani, was attacked with a machete inside the mosque itself, reportedly because the assailant was dissatisfied with his sermon. Such violence, especially the last one, is virtually unheard of in Bangladesh’s religious and cultural landscape.

All these in the same month of July when in last year the nation turned the quota reform movement of the students into a mass upsurge that unseated an autocratic rule of 15 years. These are not isolated tragedies. They are symptoms of a deeper malaise—one that has eroded public trust and left citizens feeling exposed and unheard. The government has responded with arrests and promises of combing operations, but the people are asking for more than reaction. They want reform. They want accountability. They want a system that protects them before the blood is spilled.

At the same time, some political leaders seem more focussed on slogans than solutions. Some parties are threatening agitation over election symbols, while others demand sweeping reforms and trials before the next election. The consensus commission, tasked with guiding constitutional reform is making progress one by one. The political arena is drowned out by inflammatory rhetoric and blame games. These theatrics may stir emotions, but they do little to heal a wounded nation. One must accept the fact that every other has the right to differ. No BAKSAL-type unity is possible in a democracy which is nothing but a unity in diversity.

What Bangladeshis are truly calling for is a return to dignity in politics and justice in governance. They want the killers brought to justice—not just for vengeance, but to restore faith in the rule of law. They want political leaders to speak with respect, not rivalry. They want elections that reflect their voice, not ones overshadowed by desperation and disorder.

This is a moment of reckoning. The crimes must be punished with firm resolve. But beyond that, the country needs a new tone—one of empathy, unity, and democratic commitment. Bangladesh cannot afford to let brutality become the norm or let politics become a battleground of slogans. It must rise, together, with courage and compassion, towards a future where justice and democracy are not just ideals, but lived realities.