Dhaka: The rise of religious extremism in Bangladesh did not happen overnight. It has been designed gradually — through years of falsification, cultural delegitimization, and the systematic replacement of plural values with rigid identity politics.

In the 1990s, children going to schools in Bangladesh were increasingly exposed to distorted historical claims that Rabindranath Tagore stole the tune of the national anthem, Bengali culture was un-Islamic and traditional festivals were influenced by Hinduism. Without access to information, these claims often went unchallenged.

Over time, the focus shifted from individual belief to collective identity. Bengali festivals such as Pohela Boishakh and Mangal Shobhajatra were reframed as religious threats to Islamic culture. Whereas Islamic culture is itself diversified over different geographies. Cultural expression — music, dance, poetry, folk traditions — was declared sinful. Baul communities were attacked, shrines vandalised and folk gatherings replaced by a successful startup of “Waj” business.

This process did not deepen faith; it narrowed society.

It created a population increasingly detached from its own cultural roots, uncertain of its identity, and vulnerable to simplistic moral binaries of ‘halal’ and ‘haram’. Religion became a mechanism for control rather than reflection.

The social consequences have been severe. Communal coexistence deteriorated steadily. Participation in non-Muslim festivals was discouraged, then condemned. Hate speech against minorities became normalised. Acts of violence were justified as responses to “religious offence.” Temples were attacked, idols destroyed, families displaced.

After the so-called July revolution in 2024, this trend has intensified. Extremist groups gained visibility and legitimacy. Hate preachers operated with little restraint. Minorities, women, cultural practitioners, and dissenters became increasingly vulnerable.

More than 2,900 reported cases of minority persecution reflect not isolated incidents but a structural failure — the failure to protect pluralism, rule of law, and equal citizenship.

One of the most disturbing examples was the killing of Dipu Chandra Das, who was burnt alive after accusations of religious insult last month. The brutality of the act, and the speed with which it was justified in public discourse, illustrated how far social norms have shifted — from the presumption of innocence to collective punishment.

Perhaps the greatest tragedy is the contradiction at the heart of this transformation. A faith that teaches compassion is being used to justify cruelty. A religion expected to emphasise justice is invoked to excuse injustice. And, a society that once took pride in its diversity, is being reshaped into one that fears it.

Extremism does not destroy societies through sudden collapse. It works slowly — by redefining norms, silencing questions, narrowing acceptable thought, and rewarding conformity over conscience.

If Bangladesh is to preserve its social fabric, the response must go beyond policing and prohibition. It must involve rebuilding trust in education, restoring respect for cultural heritage, protecting minority rights, and reaffirming that citizenship is not conditional on belief.

Pluralism is not a threat to faith, it is its ethical foundation. A society that forgets this risks losing not only its harmony, but its humanity.

(The writer is a political analyst and an independent commentator. Views expressed are personal)

–IANS

/as