Election is not the real story, what counts is how it is conducted

By now, we all know that February 12 is election day, and BNP acting chairman Tarique Rahman's return after 17 years in exile has added December 25 as another date to remember. In some circles, the big showdown witnessed on Thursday has been pitted against the large turnout at the funeral of July warrior Sharif Osman Hadi on December 20, turning both into rallying points. Dates and rallies consume us as a nation. There are also rumours circling about secret alliances and overt and covert operations. But the real story of the next two months will not be about dates; it will be about the execution of a free and fair election as promised by the interim government. Given that two of its advisers resigned shortly before the announcement of the election schedule in order to participate in the forthcoming polls, some concerns over the rules, the referees, and the level playing field have already been raised. The outcome of the election will largely depend on how contestation is managed.

Parties and camps long demanding overarching systemic reforms have by now shown signs of hesitation. Among them are emerging parties who have understandably struggled with organisation, candidates, finances, and grassroots reach. They redirected the momentum they gathered during the July uprising into various strands. Some among them adopted delay as a political strategy. Their programmes seem intended to buy time, shift blame, or unleash fearmongering in order to delegitimise outcomes in advance. In doing so, however, they risk losing voter confidence. While they framed election postponement as a principled stand in the name of reform, they are quietly eroding institutional timelines and delaying the transition to democracy.

All this poses an intriguing dilemma for first-time voters. The voterless elections held under the previous regime have pushed many young voters into prolonged cycles of confrontation. Their political memory is defined by an urgency to "save democracy". Yet in recent months, the electoral system's processes and protections have received minimal clarity. We have seen those in charge of electoral reform meet with selected stakeholders and produce a complicated "buy one election, get one referendum free" model where voting appears as both a sacred duty and a venture into the unknown. The younger generation, whose political memory is tied to their "muscle" memory, now finds itself often subscribing to a school of thought that privileges cynicism over participation.

A wholesale rejection of the old can create problems even for those committed to change. Such an attitude makes the role of election observers more important than ever, however. Undoubtedly, we must steer clear of monitoring agents who endorsed previous flawed elections. At the same time, participating parties and alliances must come to a consensus about credible domestic and international observation mechanisms.

The Election Commission does not have much time left to invite monitors, assign mandates, and grant meaningful access. Nobody wants symbolic reassurance from rubber-stamp observers. One way to avoid post-election chaos is to guarantee robust procedural safeguards. The interim government must protect voters, not merely certify an outcome. Observers must be carefully selected, empowered, and clearly defined in their scope.

The sheer desire for or taste of power, which some construe as a necessary evil, has contaminated our political culture over the years. Many of us have grown accustomed to systems and traditions averse to compromise. We need to move away from the "do whatever you can in court, the palm tree is mine" kind of mentality that has long plagued our politics. Conversely, the urge to remain within the orbit of power can drive intense pre-election backroom bargaining or executive overreach, both of which may likely cause post-election paralysis.

Despite a number of surveys, it remains difficult to predict the voting behaviour of new voters or of supporters of the previous regime who find themselves with limited choices but may still play an important role. This raises the possibility of a fractured verdict. Meanwhile, AI-driven misinformation and disinformation can be deployed to manufacture consent or divisions, further harming the democratic process. Monitoring, therefore, must extend to all such aspects and spaces, both physical and digital.

The alleged selective flexibility shown for certain camps, combined with alleged rigidity towards others, also highlights how uneven application of rules may corrode trust faster than outright exclusion. One electoral buzzword has been "inclusivity." International pressure groups have already urged the government to include individuals or groups whose rights have not been legally revoked by courts of law. For inclusivity to be meaningful, it must be applied consistently. Otherwise, it risks becoming yet another tool of manipulation.

The road to democracy has many obstacles. The way muscle power has dominated the streets and silenced dissenting voices over the past months is a worrying sign for the planned revival of democracy. Even student leaders have at times justified the need for showdowns, falling into the same trap that equates influence with money power, whether for nominations or for countering opponents. Perhaps the greatest concern, however, lies in the neutrality of the civil and military bureaucracy. It is important for those in charge and those on the ground to maintain quiet centrality as the ultimate stabiliser. If these institutions fail to operate within transparent oversight at all times, the election may fall short of delivering its promised outcomes.

Another pressure point involves our international partners. On paper, they all want "inclusive and credible elections." Yet we carry the lived memory of a previous regime that manipulated democracy by turning elections into a procedural theatre while some of those actors watched in silence. The challenge for the interim government will be to craft a sovereign democratic standard; it needs to carefully navigate between the "rock" of defiance and the "hard place" of compliance to rebuild institutional self-respect.

As the calendar year draws to a close, few wish to carry forward the exhaustion and anxiety of the past. People are tired. They want normalcy and stability. And this can only be achieved through discipline. All parties and stakeholders concerned must therefore return to the principles of rules, fairness, and civic courage. Democracy is not a once-in-five-years moment; it is a way of life that needs to be constantly practised across society.

As 2025 gives way to 2026, we stand at a familiar threshold where hope is battling with fear. The greatest fear is that narrow personal interests may override the national good, and that internecine clashes and infighting may pave the way for external actors to exploit our vulnerabilities for geopolitical gain. It is not too late to rebuild trust in a democratic system where people of all races, religious sects, classes, and communities feel welcome to participate. The recovery of trust can be done through the consistent application of order and justice. The task of the new year is not simply to survive another election. Election 2026 must restore meaning to the act of participation itself. This is something we owe to the generation that ushered in change, especially those voting for the first time. We must ensure their right to step into the future with pride and dignity.

Dr Shamsad Mortuza  is a professor of English at Dhaka University.

Views expressed in this article are the author's own. 

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