If I were the Chief Adviser, I would resign

Chhabed Sathee

Bangladesh today is not merely unstable; it is directionless. The security of the state, the moral standing of politics, the capacity of the administration, and the credibility of the upcoming election—all stand questioned at once. The violent eruption that spread across the country following the death of youth leader Sharif Osman Hadi is not a spontaneous reaction; it is a brutal manifestation of long-accumulated anger, uncertainty, and state failure.

Bangladesh now stands at a crossroads where the state’s moral authority and public trust are shaking simultaneously. The violence that erupted late Thursday night after Hadi’s death is a naked exposure of institutional collapse.

Thirty-two-year-old Hadi was the spokesperson of Inkilab Mancha—a platform that describes itself as a “revolutionary cultural initiative inspired by the spirit of uprising.” On the eve of the national election, just as he began campaigning, he was shot in the head by masked assailants on the streets of Dhaka. He was first treated locally, then flown to Singapore for advanced care; after six days on life support, he died. This death is not merely the loss of a leader—it is a merciless verdict on the state’s security apparatus.

Hadi was widely known as a fierce critic of India. As a result, the language of anger following his killing became sharper and more emotionally charged. Videos circulating on social media in Dhaka showed vandalism, arson, and panic at the offices of Prothom Alo and The Daily Star. Troops were deployed, fire service units rushed in, and trapped journalists were rescued. The entire scene felt like a live broadcast of state failure.

The context of this unrest is clear. After a student-led uprising last year forced former prime minister Sheikh Hasina to flee to India, an interim government led by Nobel laureate Muhammad Yunus took power. Delayed reforms, an approaching election, and the frustration of a major party unable to participate in the vote had already left the state under intense strain. Hadi’s death set that taut wire ablaze.

In a televised address to the nation, the chief adviser called for calm, promised a transparent investigation, and declared state mourning. But the question remains—can a state discharge its responsibility with mourning and assurances alone? When party offices are bulldozed in the streets, when road blockades paralyze daily life, when cultural institutions are set on fire—does the state’s duty end by merely saying “remain calm”?

Here my position is unequivocal: if I were the chief adviser, I would resign.

Resignation is not escape; sometimes it is the highest political language of accountability. When the state fails to protect citizens’ lives; when security cannot be ensured ahead of an election; when the public delivers its own verdict before any investigation—clinging to power is not moral. Responsible leadership restores trust; if it cannot, it steps aside. When a state fails to safeguard life and credibility collapses, holding on to office is not leadership—it is part of the problem.

The violence Bangladesh is witnessing today is not just a law-and-order issue; it is a crisis of trust. Repeated arson attacks on the home of the country’s founding president Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, vandalism at the renowned cultural institution Chhayanaut—these are symbolic assaults. They signal that history, culture, and the media have all become targets of public rage.

An election is approaching. A credible election is not merely about ballot boxes; it is about security, justice, and trust. If justice for Hadi’s killing is not swift, transparent, and impartial, the flags of mourning may be lowered—but the anger will not subside.

At this moment, Bangladesh needs courageous decisions. Not clinging to power, but bearing responsibility. And if that responsibility cannot be carried, stepping aside becomes the most statesmanlike act.

Revenge on the Streets, Absence of the State

As news of Hadi’s death spread, violent protests erupted in Dhaka and several other cities. Videos on social media showed enraged crowds vandalizing and torching the offices of Prothom Alo and The Daily Star. Journalists were trapped inside; the army was deployed; the fire service brought the flames under control.

This was not merely an attack on media houses—it was a direct assault on freedom of expression. The tendency to turn the press into an enemy carries ominous signals for the state. At the same time, vandalism at Chhayanaut in Dhaka, the bulldozing of an Awami League office in Rajshahi, and road blockades across districts together suggest a state losing control.

Pressure and Limits of the Interim Government

Since the student-led uprising, Bangladesh has been governed by an interim administration under Muhammad Yunus. Its mandate was to create the path toward a neutral, safe, and credible election. The reality, however, is slow reforms, weak political consensus, and questionable control over the administration.

With the national election scheduled for February 12, the country was already tense. The public assassination of an active candidate pushed the situation toward explosion. In his address after Hadi’s death, Yunus urged calm, promised a transparent investigation, and warned that violence threatens democracy. The government also declared a day of national mourning. But the question persists—are mourning and statements enough?

When the State Cannot Protect Its Citizens

When a political activist is shot in public, when clear information about suspects fails to emerge even after the killing, when citizens take to the streets to deliver justice themselves—the state has effectively failed. Who bears responsibility for that failure?

Here again, my position is clear: if I were the chief adviser, I would resign.

Election—or a Festival of Uncertainty?

A credible election is not secured by ballot boxes alone. It is secured by trust, justice, and political tolerance. Today, those foundations are shaky in Bangladesh. Repeated attacks on the home of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman and the destruction of state symbols are not mere vandalism—they are a war against history and the state itself.

If justice for Hadi’s murder is not swift, transparent, and impartial, the anger will only spread. The election will then cease to be a democratic celebration and become a festival of uncertainty.

Final Word

Bangladesh stands at a moment where progress without courageous decisions is impossible. Holding on to power is not the priority—restoring trust is. And if that trust cannot be restored, stepping aside is the statesmanlike choice.

Because history does not keep accounts of who remained in power; history remembers who could bear the weight of responsibility—and who could not.

(*This column was produced by Bangla Press. Republishing our content, photos, or broadcasts in any other media outlet without permission is strictly prohibited).

Chhabed Sathee: U.S based writer, journalist and American political analyst. Editor Bangla Press.

BP/SM