July 16, 2025—In an unprecedented political maneuver, the National Citizen Party (NCP), a newly-emerged but controversial political entity, launched a highly orchestrated “March to Gopalganj”—the birthplace of Bangladesh’s founding father Sheikh Mujibur Rahman. The event has since triggered serious questions about state involvement, extraordinary security arrangements, and the source of the massive funding seemingly fueling the party’s sudden prominence.
Though NCP was officially unveiled on February 28, 2025, prior intelligence reports and expert commentary had already pointed to suspected links between the party and powerful institutional backers. Several observers raised red flags about the party’s rapid access to resources, organizational capacity, and its unusually cordial rapport with sections of the state machinery.
But the most jarring question emerging from the Gopalganj march remains: Why did the state provide a level of security typically reserved for presidential or prime ministerial movements? Estimates suggest that a standard presidential visit costs Tk 7.2 million per hour, while a prime ministerial tour runs close to Tk 8.1 million. In contrast, the NCP’s event featured military convoys, armored personnel carriers, surveillance drones, and a multi-agency security umbrella—reportedly costing the state over Tk 80 crore.
Footage from the march shows military vehicles leading the procession, while police, Coast Guard, and other forces maintain tight formations. Some viral clips show NCP leaders allegedly issuing firing orders from inside vehicles, with uniformed men appearing to respond. While these videos have raised eyebrows, no official investigation has confirmed their authenticity or legality.
Chattogram: War Theater or Security Necessity?
Further questions arose during the NCP’s “Birprastha” gathering in Chattogram. The coastal motel that hosted the event was guarded by BGB, RAB, SWAT, police, armored military units, and Coast Guard—creating the appearance of a wartime security grid. Social media users and political commentators compared the atmosphere to a war zone, speculating that Bangladesh might be in conflict with a neighboring state.
Yet, some government sources argue that in today’s volatile geopolitical climate, any political gathering—especially in sensitive regions—warrants enhanced security. “The deployment was precautionary. Any lapse could be exploited by subversive groups,” said one official on condition of anonymity.
Nonetheless, sweeping restrictions on public access to the venue, the presence of dog squads, and floor-by-floor military surveillance have intensified public debate. Critics argue that such extraordinary arrangements for an unregistered political group reflect selective privileges. Supporters of NCP, however, claim that the party’s growing public support justifies such scale.
Who’s Paying for All This?
Preparations for the march spanned three weeks, with NCP leaders reportedly using government circuit houses and other state facilities in various districts. The party has also established plush offices in Dhaka’s elite neighborhoods, fueling speculation about its financial backers.
In one case, NCP’s Pirojpur rally allegedly used buses belonging to the district administration—though government officials have denied authorizing any such use. Political observers question whether the state’s silence and logistical leniency toward an unregistered party is coincidental—or calculated.
So far, NCP has not disclosed any formal funding structure, published audit reports, or explained the source of its nationwide mobilization costs. The absence of transparency only deepens the intrigue. That said, NCP leaders maintain that all expenses are covered through “private donations” and “citizen contributions,” though such claims remain unverified.
A New Political Chapter—or Old Power Games?
The emergence of NCP, its state-like operations, and its extraordinary logistical muscle raise larger concerns about the future of democratic competition in Bangladesh. While its leaders promote a vision of “new politics” and “patriotic reform,” critics warn that behind the façade may lie a military-influenced political architecture aimed at reshaping the electoral landscape.
Still, in the absence of hard evidence linking NCP to any constitutional violations or formal support from state organs, observers caution against jumping to conclusions. “We must remain critical, but also fair. Democracy thrives on scrutiny, not speculation,” noted one political scientist.
As the country braces for another election cycle, the NCP saga brings to light not only questions of money and muscle—but also the deeper question: Who really decides which parties get to rise in Bangladesh’s political theatre—and at what cost to public trust?
