On a winter afternoon in Aona – a union at Sarishabari in Jamalpur district, about 150 kilometers from Dhaka – Md. Mahbub Alam Jewel moves from courtyard to courtyard, market to market, with his fellow activists and campaigners. Holding red flags with the sickle symbol, Jewel and his colleagues greet farmers, shopkeepers, and their families and ask for votes. 

The surrounding farmland is the setting for a familiar story: shrinking profit margins, rising fertilizer costs, and middlemen who reap more benefit than the people who till the land. In the background, a slogan plays over the microphone: “Duniyar Majdur Ek Hou!” (Workers of the world, unite!).

Jewel is not a new face in politics in his constituency, but he represents a tradition that has long faded from Bangladesh’s electoral center: the country’s left. Today, he’s a Communist Party of Bangladesh (CPB) candidate contesting from Jamalpur-4 for the upcoming national election on February 12. Jewel frames his campaign not as a conventional race for power but as a moral intervention in a political system he believes has been captured by wealth and opportunism.

“Capitalism cannot protect the poor,” he said to The Diplomat. “The farmer grows the crop, but the profit goes to traders, syndicates, and political elites.”

His story carries the echoes of an older political era. Jewel is the son of a former labor union leader. He grew up watching rallies, hearing speeches, and witnessing grassroots mobilization before money and muscle power reshaped electoral politics. After spending more than a decade as a marine engineer abroad, he returned home with a deliberate decision to reject business ties, resist corporate influence, and campaign as what he calls “a political worker, not a political investor.”

His campaign centers on fair crop pricing, rationing programs for rural communities, job creation, and technical training. But his challenge is immense.

“In today’s Bangladesh, elections are expensive, networks are patronage-driven, and political relevance often depends less on ideology than on financial capacity.” Jewel said. “One of the biggest challenges is ensuring voters can safely reach polling centers. If voting centers remain secure, the election outcome could be very different.”

Jewel’s campaign is emblematic of a broader experiment unfolding across the country. In the post-Hasina era, Bangladesh’s fragmented left has joined forced in a coordinated effort to return to the electoral arena through the Democratic United Front, a coalition of leftist parties. 

The coalition includes the Communist Party of Bangladesh (CPB), Socialist Party of Bangladesh (BASAD), Bangladesh Jatiya Samajtantrik Dal (Bangladesh JaSad), Revolutionary Communist League of Bangladesh, Democratic Revolutionary Party, Sonar Bangla Party, Oikya National Awami Party, and other left-leaning groups. According to coalition leaders, they are fielding candidates in around 150 constituencies of the 300 that make up Bangladesh’s parliament.  

Their collective manifesto presents 18 pledges aimed at rebuilding the state’s democratic institutions, strengthening rule of law, reforming elections, empowering local governments, reducing inequality, and protecting human, women’s, and labor rights. The coalition emphasizes economic restructuring, public health and education reforms, environmental protection, youth empowerment, media freedom, and the promotion of culture and science. They aim to transform the parliament into a people-centered institution rather than a hub of wealth, crime, and communal influence, and pledge to uphold the ideals of the Liberation War and the mass uprisings of 1990 and 2024.

Their goal is to revive a political tradition that once shaped the country’s independence movement but now struggles for visibility in landscape dominated by the Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP), Jamaat-e-Islami, and other right-wing groups. 

Yet as candidates like Jewel walk through rural villages, a question rises over their efforts: is Bangladesh’s left mounting a meaningful comeback, or simply witnessing its own decline amid the rising of right and far-right politics?

Campaigning at the Margins: Fighting Money, Geography, and Political Muscle

In the vast wetland region of Netrokona, known as the Haor, CPB Presidium member and candidate Joly Talukder campaigns across a landscape shaped by water, isolation, and seasonal vulnerability. For half the year, livelihoods depend on fishing and agriculture; for the other half, joblessness, flooding, and debt dominate daily life.

“People here survive on six months of work and six months of uncertainty,” she explained.

Her campaign focuses on flood protection, fair access to fishing rights, employment guarantees, and land security – issues that directly shape the region’s fragile economy. Yet organizing in the Haor comes with logistical and political obstacles. Reaching voters requires boats, transport, and sustained presence – all of which demand resources left-wing parties rarely have.

Talukder argues that corruption and patronage dictate who controls water bodies, land leases, and government relief programs. “Those with power decide who fishes, who farms, and who receives aid,” she said. “Ordinary people remain dependent.”

Despite local sympathy, she acknowledged that competing with mainstream parties is a battle against an entrenched system. Wealthier candidates flood constituencies with posters, paid campaign workers, vehicles, and patron-client networks. Administrative bias and informal political influence further skew the playing field.

Across Bangladesh, left-wing candidates face similar constraints. Many struggle to pay election deposits, rent campaign offices, or print materials. While major parties deploy extensive grassroots machinery, leftist campaigns rely largely on volunteers, aging networks, and ideological commitment.

“Elections have become a business,” said one party organizer. “If you don’t invest millions, you cannot even be visible.”

Regarding the election deposit, which was increased this election, Talukder said, “Our party couldn’t field many candidates because we couldn’t afford the high deposit. The Election Commission’s policies are inconsistent. They claim to reduce money-related hurdles, but in practice, the system favors those with wealth and vehicles. Ordinary people can’t compete. This essentially ensures that only the rich win.”

The result is a paradox. The left-wing candidates often articulate concerns that resonate deeply with working-class and rural voters, yet lack the infrastructure to translate that resonance into votes.

The Left’s Long Decline

Things used to be different for Bangladesh’s left. In the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s, leftist ideas such as Marxism, Maoism, and socialism were central in mobilizing opposition to authoritarian rule in what was then East Pakistan. Parties such as the Purbo Banglar Communist Party (PBCP) and other revolutionary groups energized workers, peasants, and students, fighting for a classless society and social justice. 

Several sections of the left played an active role during the Liberation War 1971 by mobilizing people from below, coordinating local resistance, and creating the ideological framework for a people’s movement striving for independence. Their focus on labor rights, land reform, and egalitarianism struck a deep chord with peasants and workers.

Left-leaning parties and activists were a formative presence in the political resistance to the ruling Muslim League that emerged during the 1954 United Front elections, but their contributions have subsequently been all but forgotten. The United Front – which included the Awami Muslim League, along with the Krishak Praja Party, Ganatantri Dal, and Nizam-e-Islam Party – had campaigned for regional autonomy, language rights, and social justice, garnering large segments of workers, peasantry and progressive intelligentsia. Communists and other radical allies helped organize a grassroots support base for the coalition: it won control of the provincial assembly in a landslide victory over the Muslim League.

But the victory was short-lived. Within months, the government was dismissed, leading figures arrested, and civil liberties were drastically reined in as Islamabad imposed Governor’s Rule. The Communist Party and its fellows were met with bans and arrests, cutting the base out from under them and showing just how far Pakistan’s state was willing to go in order to crush leftist influence or autonomy movements in East Pakistan.

Moreover, during the 1960s internal ideological divides quickly eroded their sway. The Communist Party had fragmented into rival pro-Moscow and pro-Beijing factions. One faction supported Bangladesh’s independence and aligned with the Indo-Soviet bloc, while a second rejected the liberation framework as only partial and demanded a more radical revolution. Maoist-influenced factions like Siraj Sikder’s East Bengal Workers Movement and the Purbo Bangla Sarbohara Party began by fighting Pakistan but ultimately turned on Sheikh Mujibur Rahman’s government for not being revolutionary enough. 

These clashes added to the political turmoil of the formative years of independence. But when Maoist power waned in China these factions were suddenly bereft of both an external ideological support and a source of aid potential.

After independence, the left briefly filled a unique place as one of very few sources of political opposition, especially after the religion-based parties were banned in 1972. But factional disputes and friction with the ruling Awami League kept leftist parties from consolidating power. 

Mujib exploited these rifts by ending multi-party competition with the creation of his one-party state, under the Bangladesh Krishak Sramik Awami League (BAKSAL), which took in parts of the left under its tentacles while sidelining radical mass movements. At the same time, restrictions on the media – and the consolidation of newspapers under state control in 1975 – suffocated dissent and confined space for ideological pluralism.

The left was relegated to the margins when Bangladesh moved from socialist ideals to military rule and market-based economic reforms after 1975. Under Ziaur Rahman and, later, Hussain Muhammad Ershad, leftist parties were suppressed despite their role within the larger anti-autocratic movements. 

Forty years later, leftist parties were once more part of a larger pro-democracy movement during the 1990 mass uprising against the military dictator Ershad. By the late 1980s, student unions, labor groups and political parties – including a five‑party leftist alliance as well as larger coalitions led by the Awami League and the BNP – came together to demand an end to autocratic rule. These protests, strikes and mass demonstrations spread throughout the autumn of 1990, often at great personal cost to those involved, including students and workers. Despite a state of emergency and brutal repression, the protests cross-cut ideological divides to paralyze the regime’s influence and contributed to the end of Bangladesh’s extended military rule in 1990. 

By the 1990s, electoral politics had come to be defined around a polarized Awami League–BNP duopoly, and leftist parties were finding it difficult to keep their heads above water in a political process increasingly determined by money and patronage.

“Inspiring Dreams” But Not Trusted to Govern

“Over time, the left lost ground,” said Altaf Parvez, a political analyst and an independent researcher. He argues that the decline reflects a combination of ideological stagnation, organizational weakness, and state suppression. Left-wing parties, he said, failed to modernize their strategy, broaden their social base, or respond effectively to shifting economic realities.

“They remained confined to urban intellectual circles,” he noted, “while losing touch with rural voters and emerging social groups.”

At the same time, electoral politics became increasingly shaped by money, patronage, and centralized leadership. Mainstream parties expanded their networks, while leftist organizations struggled with limited resources, internal divisions, and leadership crises.

And remains true despite the participation of leftist parties in the movement Sheikh Hasina’s autocratic regime. Their role during the July uprising was significant, but that doesn’t seem to have translated to electoral momentum.

“There are examples – even in the U.S., figures like Zohran Mamdani have gained traction with pro-left positions in New York. Sri Lanka saw a left-leaning rise after a mass uprising, leading to government formation. But as I said earlier, left-wing parties in Bangladesh still have not made the necessary theoretical and organizational reforms,” Parvez said. “They lack strong engagement with grassroots struggles, in my opinion.”

He pointed to two “major crises” facing Bangladesh’s left: “One is a theoretical crisis. The other is an organizational crisis. Their local-level engagement has significantly declined. And they lack a strong understanding of the social changes happening in Bangladesh.”

Dr. Sabbir Ahmed, a professor at the Department of Political Science at University of Dhaka, points to another barrier: public perception. For decades, segments of society have viewed left-wing politics with suspicion, often fueled by narratives portraying leftists as anti-religious or disconnected from cultural norms.

“They can inspire dreams,” Ahmed said, “but they have not built the credibility or leadership needed to govern.”

This credibility gap has deepened as Bangladesh’s economy has transformed. Rapid urbanization, overseas migration, garment-sector expansion, and digital connectivity have reshaped voter priorities. Yet many left-wing parties continue to rely on slogans rooted in older class frameworks, without fully adapting to new labor structures or youth political culture.

Meanwhile, right-wing and religious political actors have successfully mobilized identity, morality, and social conservatism to expand their influence – filling a vacuum left by progressive fragmentation.

“I think perhaps they formed this coalition to unify themselves given the rise of right-wing forces and indirectly counter them. But we will only know after the election,” Ahmed said.

“In my view, they won’t surprise anyone in the election. Based on past trends and the votes their candidates have received, this will likely not change.”

A Coalition Strategy: Can Unity Revive Red Politics?

The Democratic United Front represents an attempt to overcome decades of fragmentation. Comprising the CPB, BASAD, Bangladesh JaSad, and other left-leaning groups, the coalition positioned itself as an alternative to what it describes as a “millionaire-dominated parliament.”

According to Bazlur Rashid Firoz, general secretary of the BASAD and a central leader of the coalition, the economic profile of candidates illustrates a broader democratic crisis. “In the current election, there are nearly 2,000 candidates, of whom 891 are millionaires. According to data published by Transparency International Bangladesh, 27 of them have assets exceeding 1 billion taka,” he told The Diplomat. 

“In this reality, our political commitment is to prevent Parliament from becoming a club of businessmen and the wealthy. Because if the rich dominate, the interests of workers, the deprived, and marginalized communities will be ignored. Our main objective is to raise public awareness and strengthen that awareness through this election.”

Firoz sees the 2024 July Uprising as carrying on the fight for the unrealized ideals that won Bangladesh its independence. “In our view, the Liberation War of 1971 was the nation’s greatest struggle – for equality, human dignity, and social justice. But those ideals were never fully realized,” he said. “Then came the 1990 mass uprising against military rule, yet democracy was still not fully established. As a result, in 2024, people once again took to the streets demanding change. These three movements are part of a continuous political struggle in our national history.”

To fully achieve these idea, he said, “We believe that not only a change in government, but a change in the system is necessary. Even within a capitalist framework, pro-people reforms are possible – Sri Lanka’s recent experience is an example.” 

“…We want to ensure fair wages, safe working conditions, and social security for workers.”

From his perspective, left-wing participation is not only about winning seats but also about reshaping political discourse – intensifying conversations around labor rights, wealth inequality, price controls, public healthcare, and state accountability.

Dr. Mushtaq Hossain, a member of the Standing Committee of Bangladesh JaSad, framed the movement more pragmatically. He acknowledged that overthrowing capitalism is unrealistic but argued for reforming it through stronger regulation, progressive taxation, and welfare expansion.

“The minimum demand is to reduce corruption and criminalization,” he said to The Diplomat. “Without that, democracy cannot function.”

The coalition also opposes the referendum, being voted on the same day as the general election. The left-leaning parties think the referendum risks undermining the ideological foundations of the Liberation War. Leaders warn against what they describe as a drift away from secularism, social justice, and historical accountability.

Relevance or Revival: The Future of Bangladesh’s Left

Despite structural disadvantages, left-wing candidates insist their campaign represents more than an electoral contest. They frame their participation as part of a longer historical struggle  demanding accountability and reform – connecting the ideals of 1971, the anti-military uprising of 1990, and the July Uprising in 2024

In this narrative, their mission seems to preserve a political alternative in a system increasingly defined by polarization, elite dominance, and rising right and far right politics. Joly Talukder believes even limited success can influence political culture. “Even if we cannot win many seats,” she said, “we can change conversations – about corruption, about farmers, about ordinary people.”

For Jewel, the campaign is about moral resistance. “If politics belongs only to the rich,” he said, “then democracy becomes meaningless.”

Yet the road ahead remains uncertain.

“The lack of popularity for left-wing parties has existed since 1971. They have almost no acceptance in electoral politics,” Ahmed said. “Elections require a mass base, which communist or left-wing organizations largely lack across the country. 

“Moreover, even if they communicate their message, the stigma persists: people still see them as anti-religion forces. This perception hasn’t changed much. Given the political environment and the legacy of previous Awami League governments, the secular narrative hasn’t resonated broadly with people.”

Ahmed concluded: “Their manifesto emphasizes creating a parliament free of millionaires. I feel this is more of a dream. Leftist and communists can inspire dreams, but how to implement them? They don’t have a clear path.”