Just three months ago, the people of Bangladesh were swept up in a wave of national pride as our women’s football team triumphed in the SAFF Championship for the second consecutive time. Monika Chakma and Ritu Porna Chakma’s goals delivered a historic 2-1 victory over Nepal, proving that Bangladeshi women can excel in sports on the international stage. The victory sparked celebrations across the country, with women and girls finally seeing role models who defied the odds and achieved greatness in a field long dominated by men. This was a moment of hope and empowerment, a symbol of gender equality, and a testament to the resilience of Bangladeshi women.
The euphoria surrounding this win was not just about football; it was about breaking the barriers of a society that often limits women’s opportunities and freedoms. Young girls across the country began to dream bigger. They imagined themselves in stadiums, classrooms, offices, and any space that had once been closed off to them. The victory was a powerful message to the world and to our society: women in Bangladesh have the right to pursue their dreams, to play sports, to be who they want to be.
But in stark contrast to the pride and joy that the women’s football team brought to the country, a dark and disturbing reality unfolded just a few months later. In Joypurhat, a mob of Islamist extremists, mostly madrasa students, stormed a football field and forced the cancellation of a women’s match. They didn’t come to cheer or support; they came to destroy. They tore down the fences and disrupted the game, justifying their violent actions by claiming that women playing football was “anti-Islamic.” The attackers didn’t hide in the shadows—they filmed the entire episode and broadcasted it live on social media, threatening further violence if their demands weren’t met. It was clear: this was not just a protest; it was an assault on women’s rights, and they were determined to impose their will on the entire society.
What has been the response from the authorities? Sadly, nothing. The government has turned a blind eye, and law enforcement has failed to take any meaningful action. The perpetrators of the attack remain free, emboldened by the knowledge that they will not face any consequences. This failure to act is part of a larger pattern of neglect when it comes to dealing with Islamist mobs in Bangladesh.
These extremist groups, who claim to be the voice of Islam, have been allowed to operate with impunity for years. They have attacked religious minorities, destroyed Hindu temples, burned down homes, and even lynched people over baseless blasphemy accusations. And yet, time and again, they have walked free. The script is always the same: the government watches as these mobs wreak havoc, law enforcement stands by, and justice is never served. The state has allowed these Islamist forces to thrive and grow, knowing that confronting them could cost the ruling party politically.
This disturbing trend took an even darker turn yesterday, as Islamist mobs across the country destroyed the symbols and murals commemorating the 1971 Liberation War and the highest leader of the Bengali nation, Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman. Armed with bulldozers, these mobs mercilessly tore down these iconic monuments and historical representations, desecrating the very symbols of Bangladesh’s hard-fought independence. As they carried out these attacks, they chanted Islamist slogans, including “Naray Takbir, Allahu Akbar,” making it clear that their actions were motivated not by any higher cause but by a desire to impose a rigid, narrow version of Islam on the nation. Even more troubling was the complete absence of any intervention from law enforcement. The police, who should have been protecting national heritage and public order, stood by, allowing the destruction to unfold. Even the army, stationed for security purposes, failed to act against these vandals. This allowed the Islamist mob to carry out their assault without any barriers, leaving the nation’s history and its symbols of liberation in ruins.
The danger of allowing Islamist extremists to dictate the terms of society cannot be overstated. These mobs are not simply challenging women’s right to play football; they are challenging the very fabric of Bangladesh’s identity. They want to impose their narrow and regressive interpretation of Islam on everyone, and they are using violence and intimidation to do so. They don’t just want to control women’s bodies; they want to control the narrative of what Bangladesh stands for, and they want to impose a society where dissent is crushed, where freedoms are limited, and where anyone who stands in their way is silenced.
This is not just about football or about women’s rights. It is about power—power to control the direction of this nation, power to define what is and isn’t acceptable in society. The Islamists who are driving this agenda know that they can get away with it because they always have. They know that the government, fearing backlash from their political base, will hesitate to confront them. The result is that these extremists have gained unprecedented power, and they have learned that violence works—that the state will turn a blind eye, that their actions will go unpunished, and that they can impose their will on society through force.
The response from the government has been nothing short of cowardly. When opposition groups take to the streets, the government moves swiftly. Protesters are met with heavy-handed tactics: tear gas, rubber bullets, arrests, and even live ammunition. When religious minorities protest or when teachers demand fair wages, the government cracks down hard, using police forces to disperse crowds with batons and water cannons. But when Islamist mobs attack women’s rights, destroy historical symbols, or religious minorities, the government is eerily silent. There is no swift condemnation, no arrests, no serious efforts to hold the perpetrators accountable. There is only silence—a silence that speaks volumes. When the government chooses to do nothing, it is, by default, choosing to side with the oppressors.
The government’s failure to act is a sign of political weakness. The interim government knows that confronting these Islamist mobs could have severe political consequences. The fear is that cracking down on the extremists could lead to a backlash from their supporters, who may feel alienated. So, the government takes the easier route—ignoring the problem, hoping that it will disappear or be overshadowed by another issue. But this is a dangerous path. The more you allow these mobs to operate unchecked, the more power they gain. They have learned that violence works, and they have mastered the art of using fear and intimidation to reshape the country in their image.
What happened in Joypurhat is not just about a football match or women’s rights; it is about control. These extremists do not represent Islam—they represent fear, misogyny, and an obsessive need to dominate. They do not speak for the millions of peaceful Muslims in Bangladesh who want nothing more than to live in a free and inclusive society. No, they represent a small, violent minority who wish to dictate the rules of society for everyone. Every time they are allowed to succeed, Bangladesh moves closer to becoming a society where fear rules and where the rights of women, minorities, and all citizens are compromised.
To the women of Bangladesh, we stand with you. To every woman in this country, know that you are not alone. Whether you are on the football field, in the classroom, in the office, or walking the streets, your place in this country is non-negotiable. You do not need permission to live your life, to achieve your dreams, or to exist freely. The mob does not get to decide your future. Your dreams, your rights, your humanity are not up for debate.
But this is not just your fight—it is ours. If we stay silent now, it won’t stop with women’s sports. Tomorrow, it could be our books, our music, our voices. The Islamist extremists will continue to take more, pushing us all toward a future where there is no room for diversity, no tolerance for differing opinions, and no space for freedom. This is not the Bangladesh we dreamed of—a country where every citizen, regardless of gender, faith, or belief, has the right to live freely and peacefully.
The government must act. Every person involved in the attack must be arrested and prosecuted. Political leaders, civil society organizations, sports bodies, and ordinary citizens must stand firm against these Islamist mobs. We cannot allow them to dictate what is permissible in Bangladesh. If we do, we will be sending a terrifying message to young girls: that their dreams don’t matter, that their rights can be erased if enough men object. Is that the Bangladesh we want?
We cannot claim to be a progressive nation while allowing misogyny and extremism to grow unchecked. The choice is simple: either we stand with our women and our athletes, or we let fear and violence dictate the future of our country. The time to act is now.
So, hello interim government, the question remains: which side are you on?