It began with a march — or so they claimed. But the “March to Gopalganj” was never a rally. It was not an expression of democratic dissent. It was a chilling declaration of war against the soul of Bangladesh — its people, its founding ideals, its history. On July 16, 2025, that war spilled blood on the streets of Gopalganj. The air was thick with gunfire, and the soil soaked with the lives of unarmed civilians.
A regime backed by Islamists and masquerading as transitional, with Nobel laureate turned autocrat Muhammad Yunus at its helm, has unleashed a systematic campaign of state violence. What the world saw in Gopalganj was not law enforcement. It was a genocide in motion.
This wasn’t spontaneous. It was stage-managed. It was announced on Facebook days before. National Citizen Party (NCP) leaders, like Nahid Islam, Sarjis Alam, and Tasnim Jara, published open threats: that Awami League members in Gopalganj would be “buried” on that day. The mausoleum of Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, a symbol of Bangladesh’s independence and identity, was singled out. The attack was designed to erase more than lives — it was meant to erase memory.
And when the day arrived, the army didn’t just stand by — it led the assault.
Gopalganj: Where the Constitution Was Buried
It started in the afternoon. What followed was captured live on social media: soldiers firing directly at civilians, chasing down young protestors, dragging injured men across streets. In one chilling video, an army officer yells to his subordinates, “Direct shoot kor.” And they do — bullets rain on unarmed citizens. A man is shot, then stomped, his lifeless body kicked aside and loaded into a van. Another soldier kneels, aims across a lake, and fires.
Official reports downplay the horror. Four dead, says the media. Eleven, claims the Awami League. Locals believe the real number is far higher.
The role of the military leadership is not incidental. It is central. Witnesses point to Major General Emdadul Islam, GOC of Jessore, and Brigade Commander Mizanur Rahman as the men orchestrating the carnage. They say these officers gave direct orders to hunt down Awami League supporters, and when their homes were raided, even women and children were not spared. Entire neighborhoods were sealed. Those hiding inside were dragged out, interrogated, beaten, and arrested. Not for crimes — but for affiliations.
And behind every raid, every shot fired, every hospital door slammed shut — was the invisible hand of the caretaker regime. A regime that has abandoned the constitution and now rules through fear.
A Nation Hijacked by One Man’s Greed
Muhammad Yunus once promised to build a new Bangladesh. What he has built instead is a shadow state. One that answers not to its people, not to its laws, but to foreign interests and personal ambition.
This is not rhetoric. It is documented.
Since seizing power on August 5, 2024, Yunus has taken Bangladesh down a treacherous path. The judiciary has been neutralized. The parliament rendered irrelevant. Democratic institutions now serve as rubber stamps for executive orders that violate every principle the Liberation War stood for.
And worse — he has begun selling the country’s sovereignty piece by piece.
The Saint Martin Island — Bangladesh’s southernmost territory in the Bay of Bengal — is now rumored to be part of a secret deal to host a foreign drone airbase. Negotiations are underway to lease out ports in Chattogram and Mongla to external powers in exchange for political support. A western-backed corridor — through Bangladesh, to facilitate military logistics — is reportedly on the table. This is not governance. This is betrayal.
In the name of survival, Yunus is auctioning Bangladesh’s soul. And the people are paying for it in blood.
From Liberation Land to Terrorist Hub?
This power grab has consequences beyond politics.
Since Yunus took office, extremist groups like Jamaat-e-Islami and its militant wing Shibir have returned to the streets — not in secret, but with impunity. The NCP, propped up by these elements, now acts as a civilian mask for radical Islamist ideology.
Gopalganj was not the first target. It was the most symbolic. But before this:
- The Bangabandhu Memorial Museum at Dhanmondi-32 was vandalized.
- Over 2,000 sculptures and murals celebrating the Liberation War were destroyed.
- Religious minorities in Khulna, Sylhet, and Rangpur have been attacked.
- Nationalist voices — artists, professors, even freedom fighters — have been silenced or jailed.
The character of Bangladesh is being rewritten. What was once a secular republic is now being reshaped in the image of a pro-Pakistan, Taliban-style theocracy.
Bangladesh is being turned into a terrorist corridor, an ideological outpost to serve regional interests — not the dreams of its people.
Democracy Dead, Media Gagged, Law Discarded
There is no press freedom left in Bangladesh. Journalists who reported on the Gopalganj massacre were harassed. Some have disappeared. National dailies have resorted to vague headlines and half-truths — not by choice, but by coercion.
Human rights groups estimate that over 160 people were arrested after the Gopalganj incident. In reality, locals say the number is far higher. No charges. No trials. Just night raids, mobile court orders, and forced confessions. Hospitals were ordered not to treat the wounded. Emergency supplies were blocked.
The law is no longer a shield for the people. It is now a weapon of the regime.
And the economy? It’s in free fall. The currency has collapsed. Remittances have dried up. Investors are fleeing. The country that once stood as a symbol of resilience in South Asia is now becoming an economic basket case, dependent on bailouts and backroom deals.
The Resistance Rises
But dictatorships always forget one thing: People remember. People resist.
As news of the massacre spread, former Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina issued a powerful statement. She did not mince words. She called Yunus a “murderer-fascist,” accused him of selling the country, and declared this the final battle for Bangladesh’s soul.
Her party, the Awami League, has launched a “Long March to Jamuna” — not just to protest, but to reclaim. Protesters are now mobilising across the country. The streets are no longer silent. Gopalganj may have burned, but its people have lit a fire that may engulf the regime.
Bangladesh at the Brink
What happened on July 16 was not just a tragedy. It was a signal.
That the rule of law is gone.
That the constitution is irrelevant.
That democracy is dead.
That Bangladesh, the country born out of sacrifice and struggle, is now ruled by those who want to erase that very legacy.
This is not politics. This is a fight for national identity. Will Bangladesh become a militarised, pro-Pakistan, extremist outpost? Or will it rise — from the ashes of Gopalganj — and reclaim its founding values?
The world must watch. The world must speak. And the people of Bangladesh must decide.
Because history is watching — and it will not forget.
