Women and Politics in Bangladesh: The Unfinished Struggle for Equality
For generations, women in this region have endured oppression and neglect—treated as mere playthings within a deeply patriarchal society. “This cannot be remedied merely by writing two pages on paper—it requires rebellion,” wrote poet Sufia Kamal in a 1929 letter to Sawgat editor Mohammad Nasiruddin.
Indeed, rebellion has defined women’s political awakening in Bangladesh. From Begum Rokeya to Preetilata Waddedar, from Leela Nag to Sufia Kamal, women have fought on the frontlines—often paying with their blood—to claim dignity, voice, and participation.
The legacy of struggle—and the illusion of empowerment
More than five decades after independence, women’s representation in Bangladesh’s national parliament remains minimal. Although the system of reserved seats was introduced to promote women’s participation, it has failed to produce genuine empowerment. Instead, these seats have become political rewards rather than tools of transformation, keeping women’s roles largely symbolic.
The question therefore arises: why maintain a system that serves power rather than equality? The July mass uprising—a movement led and sustained by women—seemed to offer a historic opportunity for change. But did it?
Women at the heart of the July uprising
During the July movement, women were not passive participants. They stood at the forefront—organising, leading, and protecting protestors with extraordinary courage. Women students, homemakers, mothers, and professionals all played critical roles in sustaining the movement.
However, when the interim government was later formed, women’s representation shrank drastically. None of the three student advisers were women, and the Advisory Council included very few female members. At the 5 August victory gathering at the Raju Sculpture, photos showed almost all men on stage—with women sitting below, barely visible.
Thus began a troubling pattern: women who had led the uprising were quickly pushed to the margins.
Aftermath: silencing women again
Post-uprising Bangladesh saw renewed restrictions on women’s mobility, rising harassment, and online abuse. Public discussions about the movement and political reform were dominated by men. The question echoed: Where did the women go?
The disappearance was both social and political. Politics in Bangladesh has never been a safe space for women—it is dominated by aggression, resources, and hierarchy. Women are discouraged from participating in conflict-driven politics and often denied roles in decision-making.
Even when women possess the leadership skills to contribute to conflict resolution or governance, they are treated as second-class citizens—both at home and in political spaces. Family expectations, state policies, and party structures combine to exclude them.
The absence of women in the Consensus Commission’s meetings further revealed this exclusion. Despite public commitments, political parties did not bring their female members into key reform discussions.
The double and triple burden
Women in Bangladesh carry a double burden—working both inside and outside the home. When they enter politics, this becomes a triple burden. Men rarely share domestic responsibilities, and politics demands full-time engagement, discouraging many capable women from active participation.
Missed opportunities for reform
After the July uprising, there was hope that the interim government and new platforms would amplify women’s voices. However, the delayed formation of the women’s commission, the harassment of its members, and the government’s failure to defend them shattered that optimism. Their recommendations were ignored by the Consensus Commission, deepening women’s sense of betrayal.
Despite this, there was still potential to advance representation through electoral reform—especially by introducing direct elections for women’s seats in parliament. Reserved seats could serve as a transitional measure, but only if filled through direct voting rather than party nomination.
According to the 2024 political mandate, parties were supposed to ensure 30% female representation in their committees. Yet most failed to meet even this modest target. Instead, the July Charter settled for a meagre 5% nomination of women candidates.
A “boys’ club” of politics
The July Charter discussions involved over 30 political parties, yet half the population—women—were barely represented. Despite their historic leadership in social and political movements, women were again excluded from shaping the nation’s path.
The resulting charter—with its token 5% female representation and no mention of farmers, workers, or marginalised communities—became a document of elite male politics. It was, as many have called it, a “boys’ club” manifesto masquerading as national reform.
The road ahead
The struggle for women’s political rights in Bangladesh cannot be delegated or gifted—it must be claimed. Women must lead their own movement toward equality, representation, and justice.
The road is long and challenging, but as history shows, women in Bangladesh have never shied away from difficult paths. From Rokeya to the women of the July uprising, the legacy of courage endures. The next chapter of this struggle—toward true political inclusion—has already begun.
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