The Slow Drift of Democracy, A First-Hand Account of Authoritarianism in Bangladesh
Power rarely reveals itself in speeches. It does in silence—in files that stop moving, in approvals that never come, and in systems that respond not to rules, but to power. I learned this first-hand during my work in Bangladesh over the past decade with a global IT major.
I was deeply involved in supporting the company’s operations that depended on the Bangladesh government’s approval. At one point, a large sum of the company’s money became trapped in Bangladeshi banks. Government controls froze the movement of funds out of Dhaka. The situation grew dangerous as a business partner became embroiled in controversy, and the company wanted to exit both the arrangement and the country. The second challenge came when the company wanted to retrench the local employees to prepare for shutting down the operations.
I spent weeks navigating ministries, regulators, and state institutions. Doors did not open easily. Processes did not move on merit alone. They moved through relationships. Through persuasion. Leveraging my relationships with senior government figures ensured that the funds were eventually released and helped the company exit the country. But the experience left me with an uneasy clarity, because I had seen, up close, how deeply the state and power were intertwined.
The Architecture of Control
In those years, Bangladesh under Sheikh Hasina was a country of outward stability and inward control. Elections were held, institutions existed, courts functioned, but everything was closely monitored and controlled by Hasina and her coterie. The opposition was systematically weakened; the judiciary increasingly appeared to move in alignment with executive power. Institutions did not collapse overnight. They were slowly reshaped.
This is the classic pattern of authoritarian consolidation. It is not sudden, not dramatic, not announced with trumpets. It happens through a thousand small adjustments: a law here, an appointment there, a pressure campaign against a journalist, a tax audit against a businessman. Each step is small enough to be explained away. The cumulative effect is a complete transformation of the political landscape.
I read, back then, that at the centre of Bangladesh’s political future stood two heirs—two sons. Two legacies with unfinished battles, about to kick off.
The Two Heirs
One was Sajeeb Ahmed Wazed, known as Joy, who helped me set up a meeting for the then-president and CEO of the company with his mother, Sheikh Hasina, in September 2017 in New York. Educated in Kodaikanal and Bengaluru, he later moved to the United States to study at the University of Texas at Arlington, where he eventually settled. Joy built his life far from Dhaka. He lives in Washington, D.C., from where he remained an influential voice behind his mother’s government, shaping its technological and strategic vision.
The other was Tarique Rahman, known as Tarique Zia, the son of Khaleda Zia, Hasina’s lifelong rival. If Hasina represented one political dynasty, Khaleda represented another. Like Hasina’s rise to power, Tarique Zia’s story too unfolded in exile.
The Exile’s Return
In 2008, facing prosecution and persecution after a witch-hunt by the Hasina government, he left Bangladesh for London. His mother, once Prime Minister, would spend her final years under house arrest and state custody. Exile did not mean silence. Zia waited. From London, he built networks. He prepared, watching closely as the political ground shifted beneath Hasina. He understood that power rarely collapses overnight. It erodes gradually, and when it does, it creates an opening for those patient enough to claim it.
His mother died on December 30, 2025. Five days earlier, he had returned to Dhaka. Not as an exile, but as a claimant to the highest office, two weeks after the interim administration announced national elections. His party rallied behind him, and Zia emerged as the sole contender for the top post. He returned as a man once driven out of his country, now poised to lead it as Prime Minister. Bangladesh had come full circle.
The Irony of History
There was a deep irony in this. In 1975, Hasina’s father, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, was assassinated in a military coup. Hasina survived only because she was abroad. She spent years in exile, including in India. When she returned in 1981, she became the face of democratic resistance, jointly with Khaleda Zia. They fought military rule and demanded institutional freedom. Initially, power changed hands between Hasina and Zia. But eventually, Hasina retained power, and power changes people.
The revolutionaries of one generation become the authoritarians of the next. Those who fought against dictatorship often find that the tools of control they resisted are too useful to abandon once they are in power. The pattern repeats across history, across continents, across ideologies.
The Lessons Learned
What I witnessed in Bangladesh was not sudden authoritarianism. It was gradual consolidation. Quiet. Procedural. Almost invisible to outsiders. And that is why it felt familiar. Because the erosion of institutions never announces itself dramatically. It unfolds slowly, through wrong administrative decisions, legal adjustments, economic controls, fear, and dependence. I saw it in Bangladesh, not as a spectator, but as a participant navigating its machinery.
Once you have seen it from inside, you recognise its patterns everywhere.
The Broader Implications
Bangladesh’s trajectory offers lessons for democracies everywhere. The slow drift toward authoritarianism is not unique to any one country. It can happen anywhere when institutions weaken, when opposition is marginalised, when the media is cowed, when the judiciary is captured. It can happen anywhere when citizens stop paying attention, when they accept small erosions as inevitable, when they convince themselves that stability is worth the price of freedom.
The return of Tarique Rahman marks a new chapter for Bangladesh. Whether that chapter will be different from the last remains to be seen. The dynastic structure of Bangladeshi politics remains intact. The same families, the same rivalries, the same patterns of exile and return. The players change, but the game remains the same.
Conclusion: The Fragility of Democracy
Democracy is not self-sustaining. It requires constant vigilance, constant effort, constant renewal. It requires citizens who will not accept the slow drift of power away from institutions and into the hands of individuals. It requires opposition that is strong enough to challenge, media that is free enough to report, courts that are independent enough to judge.
Bangladesh’s experience is a reminder of how fragile these requirements are, and how easily they can be eroded when no one is watching. The slow drift of democracy is almost imperceptible until it is too late.
Q&A: Unpacking the Bangladesh Story
Q1: What does the author mean by “power rarely reveals itself in speeches”?
Power reveals itself in silence—in files that stop moving, approvals that never come, and systems that respond not to rules but to relationships. The author learned this while navigating Bangladeshi bureaucracy to release company funds and secure approvals. Processes did not move on merit but through persuasion and connections, revealing how deeply state and power were intertwined beneath a surface of institutional normalcy.
Q2: How did authoritarianism consolidate in Bangladesh under Sheikh Hasina?
It was gradual consolidation, not sudden authoritarianism. Elections were held, institutions existed, courts functioned—but everything was closely monitored and controlled. The opposition was systematically weakened; the judiciary aligned with executive power; economic controls were used strategically. Institutions did not collapse overnight but were slowly reshaped through small adjustments, legal changes, and the creation of fear and dependence.
Q3: Who are the two heirs mentioned in the article, and what do they represent?
Sajeeb Ahmed Wazed (Joy) is Sheikh Hasina’s son, educated in India and the US, living in Washington D.C. while shaping his mother’s government’s technological vision. Tarique Rahman (Tarique Zia) is Khaleda Zia’s son, who lived in exile in London for 17 years before returning to become Prime Minister. They represent Bangladesh’s two political dynasties, showing how power remains concentrated in the same families despite changes in leadership.
Q4: What is the irony in Hasina’s political trajectory?
Hasina’s father, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, was assassinated in 1975. Hasina survived because she was abroad, spending years in exile before returning to lead democratic resistance against military rule alongside Khaleda Zia. Initially, power alternated between them, but once Hasina consolidated power, she became the authoritian figure that the revolutionaries of her generation had fought against. Power changed her, as it changes many.
Q5: What broader lessons does Bangladesh’s experience offer for democracies?
The erosion of institutions never announces itself dramatically. It unfolds slowly through administrative decisions, legal adjustments, and the gradual normalisation of control. Democracy requires constant vigilance—strong opposition, free media, independent courts, and citizens who refuse to accept small erosions as inevitable. The slow drift toward authoritarianism can happen anywhere when no one is watching.
