When Power Centralizes: Echoes of India's Emergency in Bangladesh's Political Landscape

It's funny, isn't it, how history often seems to whisper familiar tunes across different eras, across different borders? Sometimes, though, those whispers become outright shouts, particularly when we observe the uncanny echoes between past political seismic shifts and present-day currents. Take, for instance, the tumultuous period of India's Emergency under Indira Gandhi, and then cast your gaze towards Bangladesh, and the reign of Sheikh Hasina.

For many of us who lived through it, or at least remember the stories, India’s Emergency from 1975 to 1977 remains a deeply unsettling chapter. Indira Gandhi, a towering figure of her time, invoked Article 352 of the Constitution. And just like that, in one fell swoop, fundamental rights were suspended. Civil liberties? Gone. The press? Muzzled, with censors breathing down the necks of editors. Political opponents? Well, they found themselves swiftly behind bars, sometimes without so much as a proper charge. It was, in truth, a period when the very bedrock of India's nascent democracy felt as though it was cracking under immense pressure.

Now, let's turn our attention eastward, to Bangladesh. Sheikh Hasina, a leader of formidable will and considerable influence, has certainly not declared a formal 'Emergency.' You won't find headlines screaming about Article 352 there. But, and this is where the comparison becomes starkly uncomfortable, many observers – both within Bangladesh and internationally – are noting a gradual, perhaps insidious, erosion of democratic norms that feels chillingly reminiscent. One could argue, quite forcefully actually, that while the name isn't the same, the spirit of unchecked power is eerily similar.

Consider the treatment of political opposition. In India during the Emergency, thousands were detained. In Bangladesh today, the principal opposition leader, Khaleda Zia, has been imprisoned; many other opposition figures, for that matter, face charges or arrests. Then there's the press. During Indira's time, censorship was explicit. Today in Bangladesh, the Digital Security Act, amongst other things, seems to cast a long, chilling shadow over journalists, making them think twice, three times, before publishing anything critical. It effectively, and perhaps quite subtly, achieves a similar outcome: a chilling effect on free speech and open discourse.

And what about the institutions meant to hold power accountable? The judiciary, for example, is meant to be fiercely independent. Yet, in both narratives, there are compelling arguments suggesting that its autonomy has been significantly weakened. Electoral processes too, are central to any healthy democracy. The allegations surrounding recent elections in Bangladesh – of irregularities, of a lack of a level playing field – only serve to amplify these concerns, echoing, if you will, the anxieties felt during India's darkest democratic hour.

Perhaps the most poignant aspect of this comparison, you could say, is the personal connection. Hasina and her sister, having survived the horrific assassination of their family, found refuge with Indira Gandhi herself. This makes the parallels all the more complex, doesn't it? It's not just a matter of historical precedent; it's almost as if a certain playbook, perhaps subconsciously, has been inherited or observed.

Both leaders, we must remember, rose to power, or solidified it, with significant public support. Indira Gandhi, after all, was 'Durga' to many. Sheikh Hasina, too, commands a loyal following, celebrated for her role in Bangladesh's development and for delivering stability, a word often invoked to justify strong-arm tactics. But stability, one might argue, comes at too high a price if it means sacrificing the very freedoms that define a vibrant, functioning democracy.

The real takeaway here, I think, isn't to demonize individuals, but rather to understand the insidious nature of power, and how easily it can corrupt, or at least distort, the democratic ideal. For once, perhaps we should see these historical echoes not as mere coincidences, but as crucial warnings. They remind us that the health of our democratic institutions isn't guaranteed; it's a fragile thing, requiring constant vigilance, open dialogue, and a stubborn refusal to let the spirit of liberty simply fade into the background, no matter the justification. And that, frankly, is a lesson we can never afford to forget.