A watchdog without teeth: The problems with the draft NHRC Act

On May 17, the law ministry unveiled the draft National Human Rights Commission (NHRC) Act, 2026, inviting public comments and feedback. Many have since shared their opinions. Perhaps the most concerning flaw in the draft law is its failure to confer investigative powers upon the NHRC in matters involving the disciplined forces. This omission perpetuates a years-long institutional condition of powerlessness, a deficiency the commission has itself decried and whose correction has been a persistent demand. The government should consider including full investigative powers in the new law, specifically within the proposed Section 20. Failing this, the commission will retain its traditional justification for inaction.

Compared to the current law (NHRC Act, 2009), the draft NHRC Act contains 42 sections and introduces additional penal powers to the commission. These provisions appear not only contradictory to the NHRC’s core jurisdiction but also a potential source of conflict with its independence. The government should reconsider the proposed bill following extended discussions with relevant legal stakeholders.

Some of the key concerns regarding the draft act are outlined below:

Section 13 empowers the commission to investigate human rights violations (HRVs) perpetrated by individual actors, as opposed to confining its jurisdiction to the government and public authorities. This expansion raises a significant jurisdictional and doctrinal concern. The criminal justice system, which governs individual liability, requires proof beyond reasonable doubt. By contrast, the NHRC’s quasi-judicial mandate is properly grounded in the prima facie standard for establishing HRVs attributable to the state and its public bodies. These are parallel but distinct legal frameworks. Accordingly, Section 13 ought to reference “government” and “public bodies” in the place of “individuals” or “accused.”

Section 13(b) mandates that the commission establish alleged HRVs through a prima facie inquiry followed by a full adversarial hearing between the parties. This framework is problematic on two counts: i) it imposes an onerous and costly burden on the victims, necessitating legal representation; and ii) it departs fundamentally from the non-adversarial, quasi-judicial model characteristic of NHRIs, which typically determine state responsibility on prima facie evidence and issue show-cause notices to public authorities. By adopting a court-like procedure, the draft act undermines the accessibility, expediency, and protective purpose of the commission, marking a regressive shift that risks rendering the NHRC procedurally remote and institutionally misaligned with its mandate.

Section 13 of the draft act, which supersedes Section 12 of the NHRC Act, 2009, requires fundamental reconsideration or outright replacement. The provision as drafted conflates public obligations—those attached to the state and its public bodies—with private obligations arising under human rights law. This conflation is jurisdictionally unsound. The international human rights law primarily regulates the relationship between the state and the individual, holding the state accountable for violations committed by its agents. Private obligations, in contrast, are properly addressed through ordinary criminal or civil legal frameworks. By obscuring this foundational distinction, Section 13 threatens to restrict the NHRC’s broad mandate in several critical respects, particularly its ability to focus on systemic state accountability and to operate within its intended quasi-judicial, non-adversarial framework.

Section 16(5) of the draft act empowers the NHRC to arrest individual violators. This provision raises serious jurisdictional conflicts and threatens the commission’s independent status as a human rights watchdog against the state. If the NHRC can arrest, it will also be required to produce charge sheets and appear before criminal courts, functioning like a government prosecutor. This would render the commission a subordinate authority under criminal law. No NHRI under the Paris Principles acts as a prosecutor or arresting authority.

Section 17(5)(b) empowers the NHRC to realise compensation through the Code of Criminal Procedure against individual violators. This provision is likely to be proven impractical. It reduces the commission to a rent collector, forced to follow the cumbersome Public Demands Recovery Act, whereas under the 2009 law, it could enforce recommendations through public law via the High Court. Most importantly, HRVs are adjudicated against the state, not individuals. By targeting individuals and invoking criminal procedure, the draft law fundamentally conflates criminal law with human rights law.

Section 29 ostensibly precludes the NHRC from adjudicating matters sub judice. In practice, however, the NHRC has exploited this provision over the past decade to dismiss over 90 percent of serious HRVs—including enforced disappearance, torture and death in custody, and extrajudicial killing—on jurisdictional grounds, citing pending legal proceedings against the victims. Between 2010 and 2021, for instance, the commission disposed of 70 complaints of enforced disappearance and 53 allegations of custodial torture and death, yet in no instance (except in one) did it establish a violation. Similarly, of the 30 complaints pertaining to corporal punishment and child sexual abuse in schools, none resulted in a finding of an HRV. Either the NHRC misunderstood this provision or it wilfully abused it. Consequently, the following safeguard should be added as a proviso to Section 29: “The NHRC shall not dispose of a complaint on the ground that any criminal or civil case is pending against the complainant or the victim.”

Between 2010 and 2021, the NHRC also failed to adopt its complaint handling rules of procedure despite three separate directives from the High Court, demonstrating that the problem lies not with the law but with the commission itself. Moreover, more than 60 percent of the complaints that the commission reported as disposed of have subsequently disappeared from its records. Notwithstanding this, the commission has claimed success on the basis of these very same disposals, a contradiction that raises serious questions about its record-keeping and accountability.

To strengthen the commission’s accountability, the following additional provisions should be added to the draft NHRC Act, 2026:

First, if the NHRC’s recommendations are not implemented within the prescribed time, the commission shall be obliged to file a writ petition with the High Court. Any failure to fulfil this obligation shall itself be treated as misconduct for the purpose of Section 6. Second, the commission shall hold an annual meeting with civil society organisations and Supreme Court judges, disclosing all complaint disposals with its process, outcome, and compliance from the government.

Third, the commission shall submit an annual disposal report to the relevant parliamentary committee for scrutiny within the prescribed time. Any failure to fulfil this obligation shall itself be treated as misconduct for the purpose of Section 6. Fourth, the NHRC shall publish every complaint disposal on its website. Any officer failing to do so shall be deemed in breach of public duties under this act and the government servants and employees rules.

Finally, the commission shall complete its rule-making within six months. Any failure to fulfil this obligation shall itself be treated as misconduct for the purpose of Section 6.

Md Abdul Halim is advocate at the Supreme Court of Bangladesh. He can be reached at halim_md@yahoo.co.uk.

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

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