The current situation in Bangladesh, where the Awami League (AL) has been banned yet again — this time by the Muhammad Yunus-led interim government — underscores the enduring nature of the party as a deeply embedded sociopolitical force, rather than a conventional political entity. The narrative emerging from protests, social media, and historical parallels paints a portrait of a party that, despite authoritarian clampdowns and leadership exiles, continues to regenerate from its grassroots.
The comparison of the Awami League to a cult — while politically charged — is in many ways a reflection of its social rootedness. As the woman’s quote in the viral video suggests, loyalty to the AL often transcends electoral logic and functions more like a hereditary identity. This notion is backed by decades of intergenerational allegiance, grassroots networking in villages and urban mohallas, and a cultural ethos tied to the Liberation War of 1971. The AL is not just associated with politics but with Bangladesh’s origin story — and with Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, its foundational father figure.
The ban on May 10, 2025, is significant because it comes after a long period of political dominance by Sheikh Hasina, a phase marred by authoritarian tendencies, cronyism, and a growing disconnect from democratic ideals. Ironically, these very flaws made the party unpopular in recent years, particularly among the youth. However, the ban appears to have reversed this trajectory somewhat. In moments of repression, the Awami League has historically regained legitimacy as a symbol of Bengali nationalism and resistance to Islamist and military regimes.
Despite internal contradictions — such as AL’s local leaders often being involved in land grabs or even colluding with Islamist groups like Hefazat-e-Islam — the party retains overwhelming support from minorities and secular groups. This enduring loyalty can be partly attributed to the absence of a comparably inclusive or nationally organized alternative. The Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP), while significant, lacks the AL’s omnipresence and grassroots machinery.
The reference to the BNP and Jamaat-e-Islami positioning Bangladesh’s roots in 1947, versus the AL’s 1971-centric nationalism, speaks to the philosophical divide at the heart of Bangladeshi politics. The AL’s identification with linguistic and cultural identity — rooted in Bengali, not Islamism — makes it appealing to a wide cross-section of society, despite policy failures or autocratic drift.
What's remarkable is that AL's survival does not rest on Hasina alone. Even during her exile post-1975, the party continued to function and expand, with its student wing (Chhatra League) dominating campus politics. This resilience — of ideology, networks, and grassroots commitment — is what makes the AL unique in the region. Its latest resurgence, visible in social media videos of protests and office recaptures, echoes its historical revivals after bans in 1958, 1971, and 1975.
Ultimately, banning the Awami League may prove counterproductive for the interim government. Far from erasing its influence, such repression appears to energize its base, reinforce its symbolic status, and renew its relevance — especially at a time of national crisis. Whether or not the AL returns to power in the immediate future, its legacy and machinery suggest that it cannot be dismantled through legal decrees alone. For many Bangladeshis, being “boat people” isn’t just political; it’s cultural, even existential.
