Gopalganj lies just over 150 kilometres south of Dhaka, yet politically it feels far removed from the capital. A smooth three-hour drive across the Padma Bridge connects Dhaka to a district of more than 1.3 million people where the legacy of Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman remains deeply embedded in daily life and political identity.
Long regarded as an unshakable stronghold of the Awami League (AL), Gopalganj now finds itself in an unusual moment. With the AL banned from contesting the February 12 general election, its long-time rival, the Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP), is attempting to make inroads. But in Mujib’s home district, political opportunity comes with clear limits.
On a mild February afternoon,
around 150 former freedom fighters gathered at the Muktijoddha Complex in Gopalganj town to hear BNP candidate Dr KM Babar speak. Most attendees were elderly men and women who fought in or lived through the 1971 Liberation War. Their presence alone underscored a political reality unique to Gopalganj: any party seeking votes here must openly honour Bangabandhu and the ideals of independence.
A local BNP leader and freedom fighter, Sabed Ali, made this explicit in his address. “Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman is the greatest leader in our history,” he said. “We fought the Liberation War in his name.”
Local journalists note that voter loyalty in Gopalganj has historically been driven less by party politics and more by emotional attachment to Sheikh Mujib. “People here voted for the boat symbol because of their love for Bangabandhu,” one journalist explained.
Just outside the town lies Tungipara, the village where Sheikh Mujib was born and later buried. For many Bangladeshis, it remains sacred ground. Any political campaign in the area must begin with respect for Mujib’s memory.
That reality has shaped the strategy of Mohammad Habibur Rahman, a young lawyer and former BNP leader who is contesting the Gopalganj-3 seat as an independent candidate. After deciding to run, he resigned from the BNP and began his campaign by praying at Bangabandhu’s mausoleum.
“Bangabandhu is a national leader and the architect of our independence,” Rahman said while campaigning in Tripolli village. “Respecting him is not optional here. The Liberation War of 1971 is at the core of our identity.”
Among villagers, political uncertainty runs deep. Hindu residents in Tungipara said the district was spared the post-2024 violence seen elsewhere after Sheikh Hasina’s fall, though fear and anxiety lingered. Many expressed emotional pain at Hasina’s departure from the country, with some saying she should have sought refuge in Tungipara instead of leaving Bangladesh.
Despite their enduring loyalty to the Awami League, many residents admitted they would be forced to vote differently this time. Several said they felt pressure to participate in the election for their own safety, even if they remained unwilling to publicly name a preferred candidate.
Back in Gopalganj town, symbols of Bangabandhu remain untouched—another sign of the district’s distinct political culture. While Mujib’s statues and murals were removed in parts of the country, a prominent statue and mural still stand at Gopalganj Government College, even after the institution was officially renamed.
Academics at the college declined to comment on current politics but emphasised the historical importance of the imagery. One faculty member explained that the statue depicts Sheikh Mujib delivering his historic March 7, 1971 speech—a defining moment in Bangladesh’s struggle for independence.
BNP candidate Dr KM Babar acknowledged that campaigning in Gopalganj requires a different approach. “We want to reach former Awami League voters through respect, not confrontation,” he said. “The people of Gopalganj will never support those seen as enemies of 1971.”
Although Gopalganj avoided the large-scale unrest of the 2024 anti-Hasina movement, the district still bears scars from later violence. In July last year, clashes erupted when activists from the National Citizens Party (NCP) attempted to enter the town. Security forces opened fire, killing five locals and injuring many others.
Police subsequently filed nearly two dozen cases, naming around 1,600 accused—most of them unnamed. Local journalists say this has created widespread fear, as residents worry that anyone could be detained under the vague charges.
As Bangladesh heads into a tense election, Gopalganj stands apart. Here, political competition exists, but it must operate within the emotional boundaries set by Bangabandhu’s legacy—one that continues to shape loyalties, fears, and choices in ways unseen elsewhere in the country.
