Dhaka Witness Yet Anothe Protest

Amidst political turmoil in Dhaka, the Anti-Discrimination Student Movement ignites protests demanding the resignation of President Mohammad Sahabuddin Chuppu and the abolition of the constitution.

Well, it’s all kicking off in Dhaka again. The streets are alive with the sound of discontent, and this time, it’s the Baisomya-birodhi Chhatra Andolon (Anti-Discrimination Student Movement) leading the charge. Their five-point list of demands could make even the stiffest upper lip twitch. Top of the agenda? Out with the President, Mohammad Sahabuddin Chuppu, abolish the constitution altogether, and ban the Awami League’s student wing by labeling it as a band of “terrorists.”

By evening, the protestors, numbering a few hundred, had set up camp outside the grand Bangabhaban in Dhaka, the presidential residence, as if they were waiting for the man himself to come out for a chat over tea and biscuits. Policemen and soldiers formed a stiff line around the crowd but didn’t seem too keen on a kerfuffle. But then again, the night was young.

The tension ramped up when the protestors, emboldened by the dark, made a dash towards the gates. It was as if the students fancied a midnight stroll around the palace grounds. The police, who had been on their best behaviour until then, suddenly sprang into action. Scuffles ensued, and before you could say “What’s all this, then?” the sound of grenades—non-lethal, mind you—echoed through the air, followed by the hearty thwack of police batons. Five were left nursing bruises and bumps, and by midnight, it was clear this wasn’t going to end with a group sing-along.

Enter stage left: Hasnat Abdullah, the new leader of the movement, and his right-hand man, Sarjis Alam. They called an end to the fracas, promising to put a new President in the hot seat within three days and have them comfortably ensconced within seven. A bold claim, to say the least. Apparently, the interim government’s advisors are happy to sit tight until the army chief returns from the States on the 25th before making any big decisions. Seems like it’s all a bit of a waiting game.

Who Said What?

The whole business started brewing a few days back when Quota-birodhi (Quota Reformist) students began baying for the President’s blood—metaphorically, of course. It didn’t help that Sahabuddin Chuppu’s recent interview didn’t go down well. He denied any “documentary evidence” that Sheikh Hasina, the former Prime Minister currently in political exile, had officially stepped down. To which the government’s own advisor, Asif Nazrul, responded by calling him a “liar.” Charming. The student leaders didn’t mince words either, rallying with the same cry.

In response, the President’s office put out a statement: sure, Hasina hadn’t formally resigned, but she did leave the country. And so, in consultation with the Supreme Court’s top judges, Chuppu decided to establish the current interim government. Yet, despite these legal gymnastics, the Baisomya-birodhi lot weren’t having it. They wanted him gone, and quick. They gathered at the Shaheed Minar, announced Hasnat as their new leader, and slapped down a seven-day ultimatum.

A Confusion of Constitutions

For a movement with a couple of representatives in the interim government, the students’ sudden hard-line stance has raised more than a few eyebrows. After all, the government hasn’t been sitting on its hands—they’ve proposed a commission to reform the constitution and electoral system. But no, that won’t do for our young revolutionaries. They want the entire Mujibvadi (Mujibist) constitution scrapped and a new one drafted from scratch. And if the President is given the boot, the last remaining thread connecting the government to any semblance of legality will be snipped.

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High Stakes Outside Bangabhaban

By late afternoon, a small band of protestors had set up shop outside Bangabhaban, demanding the President’s resignation. After the quota reformist gathering dispersed, their numbers swelled. Feeling frisky under the cover of darkness, the crowd decided it was time to storm the gates. A foolish move, as it turned out. The police responded with a volley of sound grenades, sending the front-liners scurrying back a few paces. But like a good cup of tea left to simmer too long, the protestors came right back, sitting defiantly in their original spots. It was only when the student leaders intervened that they finally called it a night and went home.

But as they shuffled away, you could almost hear the sigh of relief from the Bangabhaban. The storm may have subsided for now, but make no mistake—Bangladesh is teetering on the edge once more. There’s a whiff of something brewing in the air, and it’s not the usual cha.

And so, for now, it’s back to the waiting game. Whether this is the start of a full-blown political tempest or just a storm in a teacup remains to be seen. Either way, keep your eyes peeled on Dhaka—things are about to get interesting.