The upcoming election will determine the future of Bangladesh’s democracy and reform agenda
The referendum paradox, the double-edged nature of digital democracy, and gender exclusion reveal a sobering reality
Originally published on Global Voices
2026 Bangladeshi general election and referendum postal ballot sending envelope. Image via Wikipedia by Bangladesh Election Commission. Public Domain.
Eighteen months after students and youth took to the streets to topple former President Sheikh Hasina’s increasingly autocratic regime, Bangladesh now faces what Chief Adviser Muhammad Yunus describes as a “century-defining moment.”
When Chief Election Commissioner AMM Nasir Uddin announced the schedule for Bangladesh’s 13th national parliamentary election on December 12, 2025, he framed it as a “historic role in advancing the country’s democratic journey.”
The interim government of Bangladesh described this election as “a test the country cannot afford to fail,” noting that “this opportunity for a democratic transition has come at the cost of enormous sacrifices made by the youth.”
Bangladesh, on February 12, will conduct what the European Union calls the “biggest democratic process of 2026”; however, a referendum mechanism, a digital transformation, and systematic gender marginalization expose the potentially shallow foundations of the country’s democratic renewal.
The referendum paradox
On February 12, voters will not simply elect representatives in Bangladesh’s 13th national parliamentary election; they will also vote on constitutional reforms that Yunus claims will shape the country for the next hundred years. Yet this dual mandate creates what might be called democracy’s Trojan horse — a referendum structure that appears democratic in form while potentially undermining democratic legitimacy in practice.
According to the July Charter Implementation Order, voters will receive a pink ballot containing approximately 185 words of dense constitutional language covering four complex proposals. They must answer a single yes-or-no question: “Do you agree with the ‘July National Charter (Constitutional Reform) Implementation Order, 2025’ and the following reform proposals contained in the July Charter?” No detailed explanation appears on the ballot itself. No opportunity exists to approve some reforms while rejecting others. Citizens simply vote yes or no on the entire package.
2026 Bangladesh Constitutional Referendum Postal Ballot. Image via Wikipedia by the Bangladesh Election Commission. Public Domain.
This approach transforms what should be deliberative democracy into what political scientists term “plebiscitary democracy”—a form in which citizens rubber-stamp elite decisions rather than engaging meaningfully with constitutional engineering. Furthermore, as revealed in National Consensus Commission data, only twelve of the thirty proposed reform areas achieved genuine consensus among political parties, yet Yunus claimed “overall agreement” on all thirty issues.
If voters approve the referendum but the elected Constitutional Reform Council fails to finalize amendments within 270 working days, then a Constitution Amendment Bill prepared by the unelected interim government automatically becomes law.
Consequently, Bangladesh could see constitutional amendments drafted by an interim government — which has no electoral mandate — become binding on a democratically elected parliament simply because that parliament failed to complete its assigned task within an arbitrary timeline.
The Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP) described this mechanism as “wholly irrational, politically motivated, and absurd,” arguing that no bill can become law without passing through parliamentary procedures and receiving presidential confirmation.
Meanwhile, Election Commissioner Abul Fazal Md. Sanaullah noted that mock exercises showed that each voter required seven to eight minutes to complete both ballots, yet the Election Commission’s current arrangements allow only 54 seconds per male voter and 65 seconds per female voter. Standing in queues for hours will discourage participation, especially among women, elderly citizens, and those with health issues. Some voters may simply leave without casting ballots, reducing turnout and weakening electoral legitimacy.
Additionally, concerns about state neutrality have emerged. Analysts have questioned whether the government can remain neutral when field-level officials — many with administrative or electoral responsibilities — have been mobilized to promote a “yes” vote through grassroots outreach. When the state itself appears partisan, even in the absence of explicit coercion, the perception of administrative pressure becomes difficult to avoid. Such perceptions could trigger legal challenges and post-referendum disputes that further destabilize Bangladesh’s fragile democratic transition.
If the referendum succeeds, it binds an elected parliament to reforms it had a minimal role in crafting. If the referendum fails, government advisers warn that “fascism will return to Bangladesh.” Either outcome suggests that Bangladesh’s democratic transition rests on shakier foundations than revolutionary rhetoric would suggest.
Digital democracy’s double edge
When Bangladesh’s Election Commission banned physical campaign posters for the first time in electoral history, it effectively forced the 13th National Parliamentary Election into the digital realm.
Most major campaigns have moved their center of gravity online, reshaping how candidates reach voters and how voters encounter politics.
Roughly 40 percent of voters are under the age of 37, many with little memory of politics conducted exclusively through rallies, posters, and printed manifestos. For this generation, politics appears first on screens, compressed into short videos, graphic explainers, livestreamed speeches, and algorithm-driven feeds.
The youth-based National Citizen Party emerged after the 2024 student protests and has since made TikTok and Instagram key tools for engagement, reshaping protest momentum into brief, emotionally resonant visuals designed to appeal to first-time voters. Similarly, the Bangladesh Nationalist Party has leaned heavily into interactive online platforms, inviting voters to respond directly to policy proposals, while Jamaat-e-Islami, a right-leaning Islamist party, has experimented with crowdsourcing manifesto ideas through dedicated websites.
Despite impressive headline figures, large segments of Bangladesh’s population remain outside the digital ecosystem. Women, older voters, rural residents, and low-income groups are disproportionately represented among those left offline or semi-connected.
Can this shift online represent a genuine structural transformation toward youth agency and merit-based politics, while excluding millions who cannot participate in online political discourse?
Digital platforms enable smaller parties to mobilize constituencies at minimal cost; however, research reveals that sophisticated bot networks and coordinated propaganda campaigns are already working to shape Bangladesh’s electoral outcomes.
The gender exclusion test
Despite comprising over 50 percent of the population and consistently demonstrating higher voter turnout in competitive elections, women account for only 4.22 percent of candidates in the 2026 election, compared to 6.6 percent of total candidates in the 2024 elections.
Of 2,580 nomination papers submitted by candidates from 51 political parties and independents, only 109 came from women — 72 from political parties and 37 from independents. Based on currently available figures, approximately 2,000 candidates will run in 298 constituencies, with the final number of women candidates still unconfirmed, but remaining below 5 percent, representing the lowest women’s candidacy rate since 1991.
Bangladesh Nationalist Party nominated only 10 women among 287 candidates — a mere 3.5 percent that falls short of even the modest 5 percent target the party itself proposed during National Consensus Commission talks.
Bangladesh Jamaat-e-Islami’s record proves even worse. After entering electoral alliances, the party is fielding candidates in more than 200 constituencies, yet not a single nominee is a woman. This comes despite claiming 43 percent of their members are women and announcing plans to establish “the world’s largest women’s university” by merging Bangladesh’s Eden College and Begum Badrunnesa College. Recent comments from the leadership of the party on the position of women created multiple controversies.
Even the youth-led National Citizen Party, teeming with revolutionary youth leaders with a strong female participation, nominated only three women among 47 constituencies — around 7 percent.
If political parties cannot honor basic inclusion commitments in candidate selection, critics ask why anyone should believe they will implement complex constitutional amendments once elected and insulated from immediate accountability.
As Bangladesh approaches these three tests — the referendum paradox, the double-edged nature of digital democracy, and gender exclusion — they converge to reveal a sobering reality.
Together, these will determine whether Bangladesh’s July 2024 uprising translates into genuine democratic consolidation or merely produces what political scientists call “electoral authoritarianism” with a revolutionary facade.
