Bangladesh today stands at a deeply unsettling crossroads. Violence no longer erupts only during moments of acute political crisis; it is increasingly performed, normalized, and even celebrated—often under the guise of public gatherings, popular sentiment, or so-called “festive” mobilisation. What was once sporadic unrest now appears to be evolving into a recurring phenomenon: the transformation of organized mob violence into public spectacle.

More alarming than the violence itself is the apparent absence of decisive state resistance. When destruction is announced in advance, carried out openly, and repeated without meaningful consequence, a troubling question arises—not merely about law-enforcement capacity, but about the moral posture of the state.

This is no longer a matter of isolated law-and-order failures. It is a question of governance, legitimacy, and the future direction of the Bangladeshi state.

1. The Rise of “Mob-Festivals”: When Violence Becomes Performance

Mob violence is not new to South Asia. What is new, however, is its ritualisation and public legitimacy. In recent years in Bangladesh, acts of arson, vandalism, and physical brutality have increasingly occurred:

following open calls or prior announcements
in the presence of cheering or complicit crowds
under the cover of political symbolism or collective emotion
without a timely or proportionate state response

In such moments, violence ceases to be merely criminal. It becomes performative power—a signal that law can be suspended, numbers can replace justice, and fear can outweigh rights.

When mobs act with confidence rather than concealment, it suggests not spontaneity but an expectation of impunity. And impunity, once normalised, is contagious.

In recent months, widely reported incidents have shown mobs targeting media institutions and minority communities following politically charged events, turning protest into orchestrated destruction. In several cases, threats were issued in advance, specific targets were identified publicly, and violence unfolded without effective prevention. These patterns illustrate how violence is increasingly framed not as an aberration, but as a spectacle.

2. “Nurturing the Wicked, Suppressing the Decent”: A Governance Pathology

The phrase “nurturing the wicked, suppressing the decent” captures a familiar governance failure observed in fragile political systems. It describes a condition in which:

Perpetrators face little or no accountability
organisers and instigators remain unidentified or untouched
journalists, minorities, and cultural actors feel unsafe
Restraint and legality are interpreted as weakness

In such environments, social norms invert. Violence is rewarded with visibility and influence, while civic responsibility is punished with vulnerability.

The consequence is not only insecurity but moral erosion. When citizens internalise the belief that wrongdoing offers protection while decency invites danger, the social contract begins to unravel. Observers and rights groups have raised concerns that under the current interim governance arrangements, attacks on minorities and independent voices have too often gone unaddressed, reinforcing a climate of fear and silence.

3. State Silence: Incompetence, Calculation, or Strategic Tolerance?

State silence in the face of violence is never neutral. It may arise from different causes, but each produces the same outcome: erosion of legitimacy.

Institutional incapacity may stem from weak coordination, poor intelligence, or overstretched security forces.
Political calculation may lead authorities to hesitate, fearing backlash or instability.
Most dangerous is strategic tolerance, where violence is tacitly allowed to intimidate, fragment opposition, or reshape civic space through fear rather than law.

Regardless of motivation, the result is identical: violence gains social permission. When the state fails to draw a clear red line, mobs begin to act as though they operate within an acceptable—if unofficial—framework of power.

4. Weapons, Impunity, and the Architecture of Insecurity

No society can endure sustained mob violence without confronting the proliferation of illegal weapons. Where looted, trafficked, or unaccounted-for arms remain in civilian or criminal hands, disorder rapidly escalates into militarised violence.

Unchecked weapons circulation produces predictable outcomes:

mobs evolve into armed groups
crime merges with political intimidation
policing becomes defensive rather than preventive
civilians retreat into silence or self-censorship

At this point, the state no longer monopolises the legitimate use of force—a defining element of sovereignty. Failure to recover illegal arms is therefore not merely a security lapse; it is a strategic surrender of authority.

5. Attacks on Media and Culture: Burning the State’s Conscience

Media outlets, cultural institutions, and artistic spaces are not peripheral to democracy; they are its moral infrastructure. Attacks on them are attacks on memory, critique, and imagination.

When journalists are threatened and cultural institutions are burned or silenced:

Truth becomes hazardous
Dissent is chilled without formal censorship
Historical narratives are forcibly reshaped
Society loses its capacity for reflection

A state that cannot protect its cultural and informational institutions ultimately cannot protect its legitimacy. Power may survive without conscience—but only temporarily.

6. Disorder as a Tool of Governance

Contrary to conventional belief, disorder does not always weaken power. In certain contexts, managed chaos becomes a means of governance.

Fear fragments solidarity.
Uncertainty discourages collective action.
Violence distracts from accountability.

A frightened population seeks survival rather than reform. Yet this strategy is inherently self-destructive. Disorder does not remain contained. Eventually, it corrodes institutions, alienates allies, and delegitimises authority at home and abroad.

History is unambiguous: states that normalise disorder eventually lose control over it.

7. A Moment of Decision: Paths Forward

Bangladesh is not without options—but time is of the essence. Restoring trust requires visible, principled action:

Zero tolerance for mob violence, regardless of political or social identity
Immediate and transparent recovery of illegal weapons
Accountability for organisers and instigators, not only foot soldiers
Protection of media, cultural institutions, and civic space
Clear reaffirmation that citizen security is the state’s primary obligation

Equally important is the role of civil society. Silence, in moments like this, is not neutrality—it is acquiescence.

Conclusion: Will Bangladesh Become a State of Fear?

Bangladesh now faces a stark choice. One path leads toward the rule of law, civic dignity, and institutional credibility. The other leads toward mob rule, fear-driven governance, and long-term instability.

A state that nurtures the wicked while suppressing the decent may appear strong in the short term—but it hollows itself from within. No nation can endure when violence replaces law and fear replaces trust.

The question, therefore, is not rhetorical:

Will Bangladesh remain a state governed by law, or become a stage where violence performs and the state watches in silence?

The answer must come now—before the fire consumes what remains.

About the Author

Minhaz Samad Chowdhury is an Independent Human Rights Defender from Bangladesh, focusing on state violence, media freedom, minority rights, and democratic accountability.

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