Where are the women?

The institutional erasure of women by the interim government, which risks propelling us back to the dark ages, cannot be the patriarchal political future of the country. Women will not allow it.

Where are the women?
Illustration: Subinoy Mustofi Eron/Netra News

The women’s movement has long been campaigning for specific measures to overcome years of entrenched discrimination, to enable qualified women to get elected at the national level. Direct election of reserved seats for women candidates, instead of selection of women’s seats, have been proposed, as well as ensuring that political parties nominate a certain percentage of general seats for women. The 2024 uprising was a chance to finally make progress on women’s representation in the corridors of power. 

We want fair elections, but the interim government seems keen to define fair elections within narrow parameters that will, in fact, make them unfair. To emphasise on the July Charter – much-heralded among some quarters despite it being unclear who exactly decided its process or why – as “the will of the people”, when women, who are 51 percent of the population, are left out, is a clear sign that targeted disenfranchisement is fair game in the new Bangladesh. Its text indicates that it emerged from discussions with political parties, alliances, and other strong stakeholders, implying it was an inclusive process. That was simply not the case. The systematic exclusion of women, however, did not happen overnight.

Within a few hours of post-Hasina Bangladesh, young women from private and public universities, who had played a pivotal role in the fall of the government, believing it to be an existential fight for justice and rights, were effectively excluded by some of their male comrades who became part of the administration. When we met a few of them within days of August 5th, they felt alienated and demoralised, while still dealing with the aftermath. Neither their frustration and disillusionment nor their trauma have been addressed by Muhammad Yunus’ public relations drive, let alone by his government’s actions. Sidelined by the government in favour of a select group of public university-based men – who inexplicably became anointed as the heirs of the uprising, despite the decisive role of other students, general public, women, workers, private university students, political parties etc. – the signs were worrying for women. 

However, a sense of complacency set in.  Surely Yunus, who had spent much of the last few decades building his reputation by recounting stories of how women changed Bangladesh, and who had specifically emphasised on women’s political empowerment when laying out his political ideology in 2007, along with his advisers, many of whom we knew to be defenders of human rights and justice, would ensure women would be an integral part of the new Bangladesh. Given the key role of women in the major historic movements that brought us to this current moment, including 1952, 1969 and 1971, and of course the 2024 summer uprising, and their undeniable role in the economy, it seemed inevitable and long overdue. 

When incidents of rape, sexual harassment, moral policing and slut-shaming of women increased, the stunning silence of the government encouraged a feeling of impunity. The initial six reform commissions formed also had little to no representation of women. When another five commissions were added, including a 10-member women’s commission, we dared to hope.  The formation of the Women’s Affairs Reform Commission (WARC) enabled a historic opportunity to bring women’s needs into the national dialogue to provoke public reflection, debate and inspire action. 

What has transpired since suggests that WARC was a tokenistic gesture from the Yunus administration, to show a superficial allyship towards women while disempowering and disenfranchising them, and dismantling the institutional possibility to build a movement. The commission’s mandate had been broad. It was tasked with reviewing existing discrimination against women in legal, social, economic and political structures, and formulating relevant reform proposals. Members of the commission came from varied backgrounds including law, health, and grassroots activism. All of them had an extensive track record, rooted in Bangladesh, of working with urban and rural Bangladeshi women.  

The WARC heard from citizens of all ages comprised of students, academics, activists, healthcare professionals, workers, farmers, labourers, doctors, lawyers, union representatives, indigenous communities, entrepreneurs and corporate leaders, government officials, and policy-makers. 39 consultations were conducted across the country, in addition to consultations with nine of the other reform commissions. The WARC analysed swathes of published research and government documents. Consisting of 15 thematic areas with 423 recommendations covering areas from women’s safety, economic participation, and access to health, to climate change and education, the report, grounded in evidence and lived experiences, reflected the wishes of Bangladeshi women from a wide range of different regions, socio-economic backgrounds, religious sensibilities, and occupations, making it broadly representative. By consulting rural women, low-income workers, and minorities, the commission ensured that historically under-represented groups were also part of the process.

The WARC report published on April 19th 2025 was immediately attacked by Hefazet-e-Islam and other far-right Islamist groups and individuals, highlighting three of the more controversial recommendations (out of a total 423), with attempts made to discredit the uniquely inclusive report as being by an elite coterie who did not represent Bangladeshi women. Such criticism has not been raised against other commissions. The backlash was aggressive, yet the government failed to give state security to the head of the commission after her photograph was distributed in its thousands at a far-right rally, and she received threats. The increasing visibility of an arguably fringe but vocal, misogynistic, intolerant, right-wing movement, on- and offline, overt and covert, was apparent. That was perhaps to be expected. 

What was not was the interim government response of distancing itself from the WARC report that it had commissioned, instead of encouraging widespread debate. In fact, Yunus and his advisers raised Jamuna’s drawbridge and froze out the WARC while simultaneously appearing to roll out the red carpet to the Islamists. That this negation of women’s voices may have long-reaching consequences for the advancement of women’s rights did not seem to be a concern of this non-elected government. With the state failing to take a moral stance, it was left to women themselves to come out in a show of solidarity with a diverse gathering in front of the parliament building. 

Six commissions’ recommendations were presented to the National Consensus Commission (NCC), for discussion after its formation on February 12th 2025. The remaining five commissions’ recommendations were submitted to the government later: the women’s, labour, media, local government, and health commissions. The heads of these five commissions sent a letter to the chief adviser on August 3rd asking for the inclusion of their recommendations, but there was no reply. The July Charter is, therefore, based on the consensus of reform recommendations from six commissions by 33 political parties, most of which have not been tested electorally, not to mention that their male representatives have smaller national profiles than the women involved with the WARC report. Presided over by a seven-person all-male NCC, the stakeholders left out were women – the majority of the population. 

Women not only deserved a seat at the table as citizens, but also for their economic impact. They bear the bulk of unpaid work and the major share of child and elderly care, while also being the backbone of the informal and formal economy. Women constitute 58 percent of the agricultural labour force, yet are not defined as farmers, with 45.7 percent receiving no remuneration. The biggest reason for this country’s economic survival under Yunus this past year has not been flashy powerpoint presentations, deluges of social media posts and photographs of men who were part of the interim government in a variety of confident poses, and undefined promises of foreign investment, but the contribution of women. As has been the case for a very long time, the garment and migrant labour industries – the latter of which has been highlighted by the government – on which the Bangladeshi economy is entirely dependent, exist because of women. Even availing opportunities after securing more favourable terms vis-a-vis US tariffs, relies on women’s labour and skill.

53 percent of garment employees are women, and migrant women are sending increasing amounts, not to mention the informal labour forced on women, to enable men to go abroad for work. Yet, many of the issues women face on a daily basis are not addressed by those in power, with only 7 percent of women directly elected in parliament since 2008. Are all women champions of women’s rights? No, but if women are directly elected, verifiable research is unanimous that this could be transformative in terms of focusing on priorities for women. The tired counter arguments from political parties has been that women are not ready or available, and that this agenda is being pushed by a Dhaka-based elite group who do not know the ground realities. On the contrary, the impetus has been driven by the needs of women to have their voices heard, and the women on the ground throughout the country, who are ready. So is the electorate. From Teknaf to Tetulia, feedback from the populace suggests that it is open, if not ready to vote for candidates who are clean, capable, and committed to service, whatever their gender, as opposed to being trapped in a cycle of thuggery and corruption.

The NCC process is itself inherently flawed. After hard work by the 11 reform commissions, the recommendations are heading towards an ignominious dead-end in a cul-de-sac of extension upon extension. The decision of which reforms should be taken forward is essentially being made by male members of mostly traditional political parties, with no requirement for the political parties or the interim government’s representatives to include their women leadership. Input from six commissions with 800 recommendations were put up;  166 out of 800 were discussed, and from these 84 became agreed points (where there was two-thirds consensus).  

The July Charter, as it now stands, mentions the reserved seats of women as 50, to be gradually increased to 100, and nomination of 5 percent of general seats for women, to be increased by 5 percent every election until 2043, capped at 33 percent.  There is no mention of direct election of reserved women’s seats, which has been a key point raised by the women’s movement for years. A poll done by the Yunus government’s own Election Reform Commission (ERC) of 46,080 households showed 74 percent of respondents wanted direct election of reserved seats. The process with selected reserved seats is problematic for women’s leadership development and accountability to the electorate. In the absence of testosterone to fuel a violent mob, The Forum for Women’s Political Rights (FWPR) coalition was formed and galvanised into action as a pressure group on August 31st 2025, when it was apparent that women’s wishes and proposals from civil society platforms (including male advocates within the process), were not being heard, let alone getting traction. 

There had been an expectation, indeed trust in the government, that the state would ensure the majority of the population, represented by women, would be part of the process. That this is not the case is a complete betrayal. Born in response to this, the FWPR at a minimum demanded 100 reserved seats for direct election by women for 2026, with 33 percent nomination to general seats by political parties. The FWPR is also pressing for necessary amendments of the RPO, especially a framework to guarantee 33 percent nomination by political parties for general election, ensuring a safe, harassment-free environment, and allocation of funds from the state to cover women’s election expenses. We envisage these reasonable demands to merely be the beginning of a movement for political representation, not its end.

This is not only a women’s issue or just a matter of women’s rights. Ensuring women’s voices have representation by women is a question of justice, equity, and inclusivity, and is integral to the integrity of democracy in Bangladesh itself, for a stable and sustainable society. Violence against women, education, health and labour rights, poverty alleviation and financial inclusion are some of the areas in which women have voiced strong opinions and often been at the vanguard, as evidenced in the WARC report. They need to be brought to the forefront in parliament by women themselves, for the betterment of the country. The interim government, political parties, and the NCC have a responsibility to ensure that women are part of any critical decision-making process for the nation, and, therefore, an integral part of the July Charter, if it is to be considered legitimate, or anything more than an expensive exercise in posturing, endorsed by the old boys’ club.●

Sadaf Saaz Siddiqi is a member of Naripokkho’s executive committee, and a representative of the Forum for Women’s Political Rights.