A mass uprising occurs when long-standing public grievances reach a breaking point, as frustration with injustice, hardship, and exclusion deepens and fear of the state gradually erodes. It is usually not sparked by a single incident but by sustained political exclusion, denial of justice, economic distress, corruption, repression, and the steady loss of institutional legitimacy, particularly when elections cease to offer real change, criminal justice institutions lose credibility, media freedoms shrink, and security forces are seen as tools of coercion rather than protection. Under such circumstances, people gradually come to see protest as the last available means of asserting their voice. A single catalytic incident, whether an episode of state repression, a sudden economic blow, or a deeply symbolic act of injustice, can then transform long-simmering frustration into collective action. Mass participation becomes possible when citizens recognize that their grievances are broadly shared and sense that the state’s coercive authority is either eroding or has lost its moral legitimacy.

In the aftermath of a mass uprising, a country often enters a fragile transitional phase marked by heightened public hope and a sense of popular empowerment alongside deep institutional uncertainty, as the collapse or loss of legitimacy of the old order creates political and administrative vacuums. While citizens, emboldened by the success of collective street action, come to believe that rapid change can be achieved through crowds rather than formal processes, state institutions—especially law enforcement and the bureaucracy remain weakened by prolonged politicization and misgovernance, resulting in governance gaps and a deterioration of law and order. The sharp contrast between high public expectations and the limited capacity of transitional authorities fuels impatience, contestation, and competing narratives about the direction of the uprising, often manifesting in mob violence, targeted attacks, and declining respect for legal authority, as seen in post-uprising Bangladesh. Whether such a volatile moment leads to democratic consolidation or renewed instability ultimately depends on restoring institutional credibility, rebuilding the legitimacy of law enforcement, ensuring inclusive political processes, and transforming the moral energy of the uprising into durable governance reforms.

However, once the immediate goals of the uprising are achieved, this mindset can persist. Instead of relying on laws, courts, elections, or administrative processes, people may continue to turn to street pressure to resolve problems. Over time, this weakens respect for legal procedures and institutions, as public action begins to substitute for lawful processes. In such contexts, the main challenge becomes restoring trust in institutions and encouraging people to resolve disputes through established legal and democratic means rather than through the power of the crowd.

The mob attacks on The Daily Star and Prothom Alo in December 2025, triggered by the killing of student leader Sharif Osman Bin Hadi on 18th December, starkly exposed the volatile mix of grief, political anger, and weakened institutional authority in post-uprising Bangladesh, as violence spiralled into collective punishment through vandalism, arson, and looting that left journalists and staff trapped and fearing for their lives. While police initially prioritized evacuation and fire control to prevent further loss of life, a restraint later criticized for allowing the mob to act with impunity, the subsequent arrests and promises of accountability could not undo the serious damage inflicted on press freedom, public trust, and the rule of law. The physical harassment of veteran journalist Nurul Kabir, the principled founding editor of New Age, while standing in solidarity with fellow journalists, further underscored the growing vulnerability of independent media and ethical journalism amid episodes of mass fury and mob violence.

These incidents are not isolated events but part of a wider pattern marked by over 1,600 roadblocks, repeated mob actions, and street-based vigilantism since August 5, reflecting a deeper crisis of trust in institutions and a dangerous normalization of vigilantes’ justice over lawful process.

The police, traditionally entrusted with maintaining public order and upholding the rule of law, often find themselves ill-equipped to operate effectively in volatile post-uprising environments, where the entire burden of restoring order ultimately falls upon them. In post-uprising Bangladesh, this challenge has been shaped by a convergence of structural, institutional, and psychological factors. Prolonged politicization has entrenched a culture of command-driven policing in which obedience to directives routinely outweighs professional judgment. Such institutional inertia suppresses initiative at the field level, weakens situational responsiveness, and fosters hesitation in taking decisive action during fast-evolving and emotionally charged confrontations—difficulties further compounded by fractured morale carried over from the uprising itself.

At the same time, persistent capacity constraints further undermine police effectiveness. Inadequate training in crowd control, negotiation, and de-escalation limits officers’ ability to manage spontaneous or leaderless violence. Resource shortages, poor intelligence flow, and the absence of clear operational guidelines during political transitions compound these weaknesses. Equally significant is the pervasive fear of political repercussions; officers are often uncertain whether decisive action will later be interpreted as excessive force or political bias. This atmosphere of uncertainty fosters hesitation, selective enforcement, and, at times, withdrawal from contested spaces, allowing violent groups and mobs to operate with impunity and eroding public confidence in the police as a neutral guardian of order.

In recent protests and street confrontations, a growing pattern of public hostility toward the police has emerged, driven by the perception that law enforcement represents a discredited past order rather than a neutral civic institution, thereby steadily eroding police legitimacy, morale, and deterrent authority. Audio-visual evidence from demonstrations shows sustained verbal abuse, institutional vilification, and humiliation of officers, ranging from crude slogans and threats of social exclusion, such as calls to deny education to police families’ children. This antagonism has affected all ranks, from frontline constables to senior leadership, with misinformation, public insults, and aggressive rhetoric undermining even sincere efforts at dialogue and de-escalation. At times, verbal hostility has escalated into physical violence, as angry mobs target police with brickbats, sticks, and improvised weapons, leaving officers injured while performing their duty. Yet, despite provocation, police remain bound by law and professional ethics, unable to respond with retaliatory discrimination, even as such assaults and abuses deepen the cycle of violence, weaken the rule of law, and corrode public trust at moments when restraint and accountability are most urgently required.

Another major challenge lies in the blurred boundary between political expression and criminality. Post-uprising societies often tolerate a wide latitude of protest in the name of democratic space, but this tolerance can unintentionally normalize coercion and violence. When unlawful acts go unpunished or are selectively addressed, a culture of impunity takes root. In Bangladesh, inconsistent enforcement of the law, particularly when perpetrators claim political or moral justification, has emboldened groups to bypass legal mechanisms and resort to force.

Bangladesh’s post-independence governance is marked by a fundamental paradox: despite emerging from a liberation struggle to establish a liberal democratic Constitution, the country largely retained colonial administrative, police, and judicial structures designed for imperial control. This unresolved colonial legacy, particularly evident in the police system governed by the Police Act of 1861, prioritizes obedience over public service and lacks mechanisms for accountability and community engagement. As a result, a deep structural contradiction persists, weakening democratic accountability, eroding public trust, and contributing to managerial failures and serious abuses such as extra-legal activities.

Cosmetic changes are insufficient; what is required is evidence-based, context-sensitive reform anchored in a modern police law and supported by broader criminal justice and governance reforms aimed at addressing systemic gaps, enforcing internal discipline, restraining deviant behaviour, and removing those unfit for service. Yet successive regimes have failed to take decisive steps to reform and reorganize the police in line with public expectations. Only recently, following sustained advocacy by the police, civil society, and the media, has an ordinance been issued to establish a Police Commission, an initiative widely welcomed, despite concerns over its limited independence, as a long-overdue step. Even so, institutional reform delayed for decades cannot be expected to produce immediate results.

Consequently, in the post-uprising period under a transitional government, the police have struggled to contain mob violence. In other domains of policing, progress remains limited; inertia and capacity deficits continue to erode professionalism. Although the 2024 uprising produced a tremor indeed, a convulsion within the system, it has yet to translate into sustained structural reform. Without such transformation, the gap between democratic aspirations and colonial-era policing will persist, with serious implications for governance, security, and the rule of law.

Addressing the law and order crisis in a post-uprising society like Bangladesh requires a multidimensional policy response.

First, the depoliticisation of the police is fundamental to restoring lawful order in post-uprising settings. Law enforcement agencies must be structurally insulated from partisan influence so that operational decisions are guided by law and public safety rather than political convenience. Genuine operational autonomy, coupled with transparent and credible accountability mechanisms, would enable officers to act decisively and impartially while reassuring citizens that power is not being abused. Without such insulation, policing risks appearing selective or hesitant, further eroding public confidence.

Second, capacity building must be understood as a qualitative, not merely quantitative, exercise. Beyond manpower and equipment, police training needs to emphasize democratic policing values, crowd psychology, conflict sensitivity, and de-escalation skills, alongside human rights–compliant use of force. In volatile post-uprising environments, the police must be capable of communicating with crowds, negotiating under pressure, and identifying early warning signs of escalation. Preventive engagement, rather than reactive force, is often the key to avoiding the slide from protest to mob violence.

Third, the rule of law must be enforced in a visible, consistent, and non-discriminatory manner. Any selective tolerance of mob action, no matter how emotionally charged or politically framed, undermines legal norms and signals impunity. Swift, impartial, and transparent investigations into acts of violence, especially high-profile attacks on media or public institutions, are essential to reaffirm that no cause justifies lawlessness. Justice delayed or perceived as selective only deepens cynicism and emboldens further disorder.

Fourth, rebuilding public trust should be treated as a central policy objective rather than a secondary outcome. Community engagement, structured dialogue forums, and accessible grievance-redress mechanisms can help narrow the distance between citizens and law enforcement. When people believe that their concerns can be addressed through institutional channels, the appeal of street justice and collective violence diminishes. Trust, once restored, becomes a powerful stabilizing force.

Fifth, in a post-uprising society, reform cannot be confined to the police alone; the entire criminal justice system and broader organs of the state must undergo comprehensive renovation, reorganization, and professionalization. Courts, prosecution services, correctional institutions, and oversight bodies need to function efficiently, independently, and transparently so that justice is not only done but is seen to be done. Delays, politicization, and administrative weakness within these institutions create frustration and feed the perception that formal justice is inaccessible, thereby pushing people toward extra-legal means. A credible justice system, working in coordination with law enforcement, is essential to restore faith in lawful processes.

At the same time, the wider machinery of government must address structural socio-economic gaps through a holistic and inclusive approach. Persistent poverty, inequality, unemployment, discrimination, and social exclusion often provide the fertile ground in which anger, resentment, and mob behaviour take root. Development policies must therefore go beyond economic growth to ensure equitable access to education, healthcare, employment, and social protection. When citizens experience dignity, opportunity, and fairness in their everyday lives, social tensions are reduced. In such an environment where fundamental rights guaranteed by the constitution are genuinely enjoyed and exercised, the appeal of violence diminishes, and the foundations of a peaceful, harmonious, and stable society are gradually strengthened.

Bangladesh today faces a profound challenge in the form of widespread unemployment and underemployment among educated youth, many of whom see little realistic prospect of securing decent jobs despite years of academic effort, breeding deep frustration, exclusion, and hopelessness that undermine social stability and trust in the future. When education fails to translate into opportunity, young people begin to question not only economic policy but also the fairness and legitimacy of the entire system, a dynamic clearly reflected in student protests that began as a quota reform movement for access to public sector jobs but soon evolved into a broader political mobilization aimed at toppling the government. In this context, unemployment transcends its economic dimension to become a powerful catalyst for mass mobilization, street politics, and, at times, mob violence. Therefore, sustainable and inclusive job creation is the most effective long-term response to social unrest, as meaningful employment reduces frustration and the appeal of destructive protest. By addressing unemployment, Bangladesh can not only strengthen its economy but also restore social peace, prevent mob violence, and reinforce democratic stability.

Finally, political leadership carries a decisive responsibility in shaping post-uprising norms. Clear, consistent, and unequivocal condemnation of violence, regardless of political affiliation or perceived justification, is indispensable. Leaders must resist rhetoric that legitimises anger or romanticises unlawful acts as revolutionary justice. Post-uprising societies require restraint, moral clarity, and commitment to constitutional processes if democratic gains are to be preserved rather than undermined.

In the broader canvas of state governance, the police may be metaphorically compared to the goalkeeper in a football match, the final line of defence rather than the sole guardian of order. Just as a football team relies on the coordinated performance of all eleven players, each with a defined role, effective governance depends on multiple institutions discharging their specific responsibilities for inclusive development, justice, and social welfare. When any of these organs fail, whether in service delivery, regulation, or conflict prevention, fault lines emerge, giving rise to chaos, confusion, social tension, and unrest. In such circumstances, the police inevitably find themselves at the receiving end, much like a goalkeeper facing repeated attacks because the other players have failed to defend properly. If the ball keeps coming, even the most capable goalkeeper cannot be expected to stop every shot. Similarly, when other arms of the government do not perform effectively, it is neither realistic nor fair to expect the police alone to counter every challenge, absorb the consequences of systemic failures, or prevent all breakdowns of order. In the broader framework of state governance, the police function as the final line of defence rather than the sole guardian of order.

In conclusion, the deterioration of law and order in post-uprising Bangladesh is not merely a policing failure but a governance challenge rooted in transition, mistrust, and institutional weakness. Restoring order requires more than force; it demands legitimacy, consistency, and reform. Only through a balanced approach, combining firm enforcement with institutional reform and public engagement, can Bangladesh navigate the fragile post-uprising phase and move toward a stable, law-governed democratic order.

 

Dr. Md. Motiar Rahman, ndc  is a retired Additional Inspector General of Police

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