On March 1, a man took offence to two women smoking at a tea stall in Dhaka's Lalmatia area. He allegedly verbally abused them, which duly offended the women, leading to an altercation followed by a crowd gathering at the scene and allegedly assaulting the women in public.

This incident, under the guise of moral policing, is yet another example of the deteriorating state of women's rights and safety in Bangladesh. What's more alarming is how the case was handled by the authorities, government representatives, and media, who repeatedly tried to water down the gravity of the incident.

While there have been several protests demanding the resignation of Home Affairs Adviser Lt Gen (retd) Jahangir Alam Chowdhury for his failure to curb the rising violence, the incident in Lalmatia led to another one organised by the Bangladesh against Rape and Abuse, a platform consisting of female activists and concerned citizens. Protesters burned an effigy of the home adviser, called for his resignation, and condemned the inaction against Golam Mostakim Rintu, the man who incited the assault on the women.

The first-hand account from an intervener, who was also assaulted by the crowd at the scene, paints a disturbing picture. Wishing to remain anonymous, the 25-year-old said he saw a man screaming and cursing at two women while a silent crowd watched. "I realised it was an act of moral policing and joined the women in protest, defending them against the man's baseless accusations of smoking 'weed' when they were simply having cigarettes and tea. The man continued his tirade, supported by a few bystanders who called him a 'murubbi.' At one point, after being subjected to relentless verbal abuse and intimidation, one of the victims threw tea at Rintu. He then physically attacked the woman, grabbing her by the hair, slapping and kicking her," he recounted.

Read more

United in misogyny?

As he stepped forward to stop the attack, his attempts to de-escalate the situation were met with further violence by Rintu and other people in the crowd, leaving him with visible injuries. "My face was bloodied, and my clothes were soon stained with it. I struggled to protect myself, but the blows kept coming," he recalled. The sheer brutality of the attack left him shaken, yet his testimony remains a crucial piece of evidence exposing the savagery of mob justice.

In an 11-second video footage secured by this author, the female victims in Lalmatia are seen surrounded by a crowd consisting of at least 20-30 people beating them indiscriminately. Yet, the authorities' response to this incident have been shockingly inadequate. In fact, the home adviser's response was not only tone-deaf but legally and morally flawed. Instead of condemning the mob attack, he focused on the supposed offence of smoking in public spaces. However, according to the Smoking and Use of Tobacco Products (Control) Act, 2005, the location where the incident took place—a roadside tea stall—does not qualify as a designated non-smoking public place. His attempt to shift focus from the violence to the act of smoking is a blatant effort to justify the assault and absolve the perpetrators. By doing that, he bolstered the narrative of the alleged attacker who played the religious card to "justify" his moral policing of the women. Does this mean women are no longer entitled to safety and their basic human rights? More disturbingly, does this mean that the religious sensitivities of some people can now be used as an excuse for perpetrating gender-based violence? The home adviser's statement is dangerous as it attempts to legitimise moral policing and vigilante violence. Such rhetoric not only emboldens perpetrators but also implies that the state is unlikely to prioritise women's right to safety over hurting some people's religious sentiments.

The Bangladesh Penal Code of 1860 clearly criminalises the actions of Rintu and the mob under several sections, including Section 354 (criminal assault on a woman with intent to outrage her modesty), Section 509 (verbal abuse intended to insult a woman's modesty), Section 504 (intentional insult to provoke a breach of peace), and Section 352 (punishment for assault or criminal force otherwise than on grave provocation). However, despite the clear violations of sections 354, 509 and 504, no immediate legal action was taken against the perpetrators. Instead, the victims were allegedly pressured into signing an aposhnama (compromise agreement).

Read more

Why this year’s Women’s Day matters

When contacted, the officer-in-charge (OC) of Mohammadpur police station claimed that "people's faith in the police is shaken post-August 5 and they are being blamed for baseless reasons," and dismissed concerns about police inaction. He also emphasised that the victims' parents had signed a compromise agreement with the perpetrators, claiming that the issue had been "resolved."

The aposnama signed between the victims' families and the perpetrators is legally invalid on multiple grounds, according to law experts. Firstly, under Bangladesh's criminal law, offences such as assault and harassment are non-compoundable, meaning they cannot be settled outside the court. Any attempt to bypass this process is a violation of due legal procedure. Secondly, the agreement was signed by the victims' parents rather than the victims themselves, undermining their autonomy and legal standing as adults. Furthermore, the agreement was allegedly signed under duress (being forced to act against your will through threats or pressure). According to one victim, someone identifying as a powerful individual called her father and coerced him into signing it. The fact that law enforcement facilitated this agreement instead of proceeding with legal action reflects a gross misuse of discretionary power.

Such coerced compromises in gender-based violence (GBV) cases often serve to protect perpetrators rather than delivering justice. This is part of a larger pattern where the police actively discourage victims from filing cases to suppress crime statistics. The reluctance to hold perpetrators accountable only reinforces a culture of impunity, where women are expected to endure harassment and violence without any recourse to justice.

In a further display of the authorities' apathy, Environment Adviser Syeda Rizwana Hasan echoed the OC's stance in her recent press briefing, referring to the mob assault as a "heated argument" between the involved parties and distancing the government from any responsibility using the compromise agreement as a "final resolution"—an invalid document, according to experts.

It is equally troubling how certain media agencies played a role in downplaying the significance of a protest that took place on March 3, condemning this incident. Some of them published reports with misleading headlines that framed the demonstration as a protest against the government's decision to ban smoking in public places. One news channel went as far as linking the protest—which was held to raise voices against the ongoing trend of GBV and moral policing of women—to an "Indian conspiracy." This attempt to manipulate the narrative is clearly aimed at delegitimising the protest and silencing calls for action against GBV.

The Lalmatia incident serves as a stark reminder of the deep-rooted patriarchy that pervades every level of society in Bangladesh. From the case of being harassed for something as trivial as wearing a tip to the recent rise in the cases of rape, sexual assault and digital harassment, it is clear that misogyny is deeply embedded in our social structures and collective psyche. It is not just the perpetrators of violence who must be held accountable; it is the entire ecosystem—spanning government officials, the media, law enforcement, and political parties—that continues to perpetuate this cycle of abuse. As the fight against GBV continues, it is critical that the public refuses to be silenced by social stigma and ostracism, disinformation and institutional biases, and stands firm against the structures that enable such violence.

The fight does not end with one protest. The resistance must not stop; for in every protest, every voice raised against injustice, lies the hope for a safer, more just future.

Mahiya Tabassum is a member of the editorial team at The Daily Star.

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

Follow The Daily Star Opinion on Facebook for the latest opinions, commentaries and analyses by experts and professionals. To contribute your article or letter to The Daily Star Opinion, see our guidelines for submission.