A Student Uprising: How Gen-Z toppled a government in Bangladesh


This article has been written for Easy History by George Gotua.

Revolution in the Digital Age:

Revolutions have defining moments that capture their essence. For Bangladesh’s July Revolution of 2024, it came when an engineering student named Nahid Islam was fatally shot while peacefully protesting against a government jobs quota system. The image of his bloodied body, carried by fellow students through the streets of Dhaka, spread across social media like wildfire, transforming what began as a focused policy dispute into an unstoppable nationwide uprising that would topple one of Asia’s longest-serving leaders.

The Bangladesh revolution reminds us of an eternal truth about political change: authoritarian regimes often appear invincible until suddenly they’re not. Like a seemingly solid dam that develops invisible fractures over years before catastrophically collapsing under pressure, Sheikh Hasina’s government had been accumulating structural weaknesses despite projecting strength. The quota protests simply provided the final surge that revealed these fatal flaws.

What makes the Bangladesh case particularly instructive is how a technical policy issue about government job quotas—hardly the stuff of revolutionary zeal—became the catalyst for national transformation. It demonstrates that revolutions don’t always begin with grand ideological manifestos but with specific grievances that tap into deeper wells of discontent. The story of Bangladesh’s revolution is ultimately about how young people who originally sought reform ended up dismantling an entire system when that system responded with violence rather than dialogue.

From Independence to Autocracy – Bangladesh’s Political Pendulum:

To understand the 2024 revolution, we must trace Bangladesh’s pendulum swings between democratic aspirations and authoritarian governance since its birth in 1971.

Bangladesh emerged as an independent nation through blood and sacrifice—a nine-month liberation war against Pakistan that cost millions of lives. The newly sovereign nation was founded on four principles emblazoned in its constitution: nationalism, secularism, democracy, and socialism. Its founding father, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman (father of Sheikh Hasina), was hailed as “Bangabandhu” or “Friend of Bengal.”

Yet Bangladesh’s democracy proved fragile from the start. As Sarah Tasnim Shehabuddin explains, the country inherited “weak institutions at the time of independence” which “fueled the expansion of patronage networks, manipulation of institutions for political gain, and intense competition over economic and political resources.” Think of Bangladesh’s early political system as a tree planted in shallow soil—impressive in appearance but vulnerable to being uprooted by the first serious storm.

The storms came quickly. By 1975, facing economic crisis and growing opposition, Sheikh Mujib declared a state of emergency, banned opposition parties, and created a one-party state. This dramatic power grab ended in tragedy when military officers assassinated him and most of his family in a coup—a pattern reminiscent of so many post-colonial states where democracy’s first flowering is cut short by military intervention.

Only Sheikh Hasina and her sister Sheikh Rehana, who were abroad at the time, survived this bloodbath. This traumatic history would later shape Hasina’s leadership style and her determination to maintain power at all costs.

For the next 15 years, Bangladesh experienced military rule, first under General Ziaur Rahman (founder of the Bangladesh Nationalist Party or BNP) and then under General Hussain Muhammad Ershad. It wasn’t until 1991 that Bangladesh returned to democratic governance.

Democracy’s Champion Becomes Its Challenger – The Rise of Sheikh Hasina :

The period between 1991 and 2008 saw Bangladesh’s politics dominated by an intense rivalry between two women—Khaleda Zia of the BNP (widow of Ziaur Rahman) and Sheikh Hasina of the Awami League. This era, which some call “the battle of the begums,” was characterized by alternating periods of governance that followed a disturbing pattern: whichever party gained power would use state institutions to undermine the opposition, setting the stage for future democratic erosion.

As professor Habibul Haque Khondker notes, “Conflictual politics in Bangladesh has made policy continuity and stability elusive as power holders rewrite the rules of the game in order to consolidate power and marginalize opponents.” This pattern created a political culture where winning elections became a matter of survival rather than governance.

Sheikh Hasina’s Awami League won a landslide victory in 2008. Initially welcomed as a return to the democratic values of Bangladesh’s founding, her rule gradually transformed into something more concerning. Like a frog in slowly heating water, Bangladesh’s democracy found itself in increasingly hostile conditions, though the change happened too gradually for dramatic international response.

A critical turning point came in 2011 when Hasina’s government abolished the caretaker government system that had previously ensured neutral election administration. By 2014, when the BNP boycotted elections they deemed unfair, and 2018, when widespread allegations of vote manipulation emerged, Bangladesh had effectively become a one-party state.

International observers noted the democratic backsliding, but Bangladesh’s impressive economic growth—averaging 6-7% annually over much of Hasina’s tenure—provided a counternarrative that muted criticism. The country transformed from what former US Secretary of State Henry Kissinger once dismissively called a “basket case” into an emerging economic success story, lifting millions out of poverty and becoming a garment manufacturing powerhouse.

This economic success allowed Hasina’s government to present itself as prioritizing development over democracy—a bargain many Bangladeshis initially accepted. But beneath the surface, resentments were building, particularly among the younger generation who had no memory of the liberation war and were more concerned with present corruption and repression than past achievements.

A Colonial Legacy Becomes a Modern Flashpoint:

The immediate trigger for the 2024 revolution was surprisingly bureaucratic: a dispute over Bangladesh’s quota system for government jobs. This system, a legacy from Pakistan and ultimately British colonial administration, reserved a staggering 30% of government positions for descendants of “freedom fighters” who had fought in the 1971 liberation war.

While intended to honor those who sacrificed for independence, the system had become deeply problematic for several reasons. First, more than 50 years had passed since independence, making the connection between current job seekers and liberation fighters increasingly tenuous. Second, allegations were rife that the “freedom fighter” designation had been politicized, with certificates distributed as political patronage. Third, in a country with high youth unemployment, this quota appeared to prioritize family history over merit.

For university students competing for coveted government positions, the quota system represented a tangible injustice—imagine studying diligently for years only to discover that a third of available positions are effectively closed to you regardless of your qualifications.

The frustration over this issue had already boiled over once before. In 2018, student protests had successfully pressured Hasina’s government to reduce these quotas through an administrative order. However, in June 2024, Bangladesh’s High Court reinstated the full 30% reservation in a controversial ruling, triggering immediate outrage among students who saw their hard-won victory being reversed.

This seemingly technical issue became a powerful symbol of broader governance failures—a system that privileged connections over competence, that looked backward rather than forward, and that failed to adapt to the needs of a youthful population where more than half were under age 25. As one student protest leader told journalists, “This isn’t just about jobs—it’s about fairness and our future.”

The Evolution of Student Resistance:

The initial protests in early July 2024 were remarkably disciplined and focused. Students formed an organization called the Anti-Discrimination Student Movement to coordinate their activities, and they articulated specific policy demands rather than calling for regime change. They assembled peacefully at university campuses, carrying placards with slogans like “Reform Not Revolution” and “Merit Over Legacy.”

The government’s response followed a familiar pattern that would prove catastrophic. First came dismissal—officials suggested students didn’t understand the importance of honoring freedom fighters. Then came attempts to divide—pro-government student groups were mobilized to counter the protests. Finally came repression—when the Bangladesh Chhatra League (the student wing of the ruling Awami League) violently attacked protesters at Dhaka University on July 15, injuring hundreds, the movement reached its point of no return.

Like gasoline poured on a smoldering fire, the violence transformed the protests. Videos of peaceful students being beaten circulated rapidly on social media, galvanizing public opinion. Overnight, what had been a focused policy movement expanded into a widespread anti-government uprising. New participants joined the protests—parents concerned about their children’s safety, workers frustrated with economic inequality, and citizens from all walks of life outraged by the brutality.

The government fatally misread the moment, apparently believing that the same repressive tactics that had quelled previous protests would work again. But Bangladesh in 2024 was not the same country it had been even a few years earlier. Several factors made this moment different:

  1. Demographic shift: Over 65% of Bangladesh’s population was under 35 years old—a generation with no personal memory of the liberation war but intimate familiarity with the corruption and authoritarianism of the present.
  2. Digital connectivity: Despite government attempts to restrict it, internet penetration had reached over 70% of the population, with social media providing alternative information channels beyond state control.
  3. Economic expectations: Despite impressive GDP growth, inequality had worsened, and a well-educated generation faced limited opportunities in a system where connections often mattered more than qualifications.
  4. Previous mobilizations: The 2018 Road Safety Movement and earlier quota protests had created networks of experienced student organizers who understood how to mobilize effectively.

When security forces shot and killed multiple protesters in the days following July 15, including Nahid Islam whose death was captured on video, the government crossed a fatal threshold. The deaths transformed student protesters into martyrs, making compromise increasingly impossible. As one protest leader told journalists, “We came asking for reform of a quota system. They answered with bullets. Now we cannot go back until there is fundamental change.”

By late July, the movement had articulated a new, singular demand that would have been unthinkable just weeks earlier: the resignation of Sheikh Hasina and her government. What began as a policy dispute had, through the government’s miscalculations and violence, evolved into a full-scale revolutionary movement determined to reset Bangladesh’s political system.

Conclusion:

The historical context and buildup to Bangladesh’s July Revolution reveals a crucial lesson about political change: when modest reform demands meet disproportionate repression, revolution often follows. The students who initiated protests against the quota system in early July 2024 were not revolutionaries—they sought specific policy changes within the existing system. It was the government’s violent response that radicalized the movement and expanded its objectives.

This pattern echoes many historical revolutions, from France in 1789 to Iran in 1979, where regimes misinterpreted reform movements as existential threats and responded with force that ultimately proved self-defeating. As historian Crane Brinton noted in his classic “Anatomy of Revolution,” pre-revolutionary governments often suffer not from weakness but from an inability to adapt to changing circumstances.

The quota issue itself embodied deeper contradictions in Bangladesh’s political system: a government nominally committed to meritocracy and youth opportunity while preserving systems of patronage and historical privilege; a ruling party that claimed the mantle of liberation while using increasingly authoritarian means to suppress dissent; and an economic model that produced impressive growth figures but failed to deliver sufficient opportunities for an educated youth population.

In the next article in this series, we’ll examine the key turning points of the revolution itself—how student protests transformed into a nationwide uprising, the role of social media in organizing resistance despite government shutdowns, the government’s escalating crackdown, and the dramatic fall of the Hasina regime after nearly 15 years in power.


This is the first article in a three-part series examining Bangladesh’s July 2024 Revolution.


About the Author:

The author is a history hobbyist and development researcher with a first degree in History and Politics.


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