Shibir’s campus wins and beyond: Geopolitics, misread narratives, and the irony of tactical votes

The recently concluded Dhaka University Central Students’ Union (DUCSU) and Jahangirnagar University Central Students’ Union (JUCSU) elections have opened a floodgate of questions about the direction of student politics and, by extension, national politics in post-Hasina Bangladesh. The landslide victories of Bangladesh Islami Chhatrashibir (BICS)—long considered a marginal, cadre-based student organisation—cannot be explained solely by their organisational strength or popularity. Rather, it reflects a complex interplay of domestic disillusionment, tactical voting, regional geopolitics, and global narratives about Islamism.

This article argues that Shibir’s overwhelming wins are not merely the product of its grassroots mobilisation but also the strategic “collision” of votes from the Bangladesh Chhatra League (BCL), Bangladesh Jatiyatabadi Chhatra Dal (JCD), leftist outfits, and sections of disoriented independents. More importantly, these victories must be interpreted against the larger Indian geopolitical calculus, in which Bangladesh is increasingly portrayed as a potential “border of Islamic resurgence.” In this sense, the triumphs of Shibir may paradoxically serve the interests of those who oppose them most, both in Dhaka and New Delhi.

The dramatic fall of Sheikh Hasina and her flight to India have left a vacuum in Bangladeshi politics. The Awami League (AL), once hegemonic in both national and campus politics, is now a discredited and leaderless entity, burdened by memories of authoritarianism, corruption, and repression.

For student politics, these developments meant that the BCL, AL’s militant student wing, had no natural home. Many of its cadres and sympathisers were unwilling to back the JCD, given the BNP’s national image problem—particularly the reputation for extortionism and factional violence. In this void, Shibir emerged as a “default alternative”, not because of broad-based appeal, but because of the absence of credible rivals. The situation mirrors what political theorists call a negative coalition: votes cast not for ideological commitment but as a rejection of the discredited past.

Shibir’s involvement in the July Uprising of 2024 added credibility to its pro-student credentials. While other organisations vacillated or engaged in factional squabbles, Shibir maintained a visible presence in protests, coordinating relief and protecting demonstrators from state repression. This robust role created a halo of legitimacy, particularly among first-year and apolitical students.

Yet, in the post-election narrative, Shibir adopted a humble stance, downplaying its share of the uprising to avoid being branded as an Islamist usurper. This careful balancing act—assertive on the ground but modest in rhetoric—helped it accumulate goodwill without arousing the suspicion of neutral voters. Still, the sheer scale of its electoral victory surpasses what such goodwill could normally achieve, suggesting external dynamics at play.

BNP, the primary opposition, continues to suffer from its national-level legitimacy deficit. Accusations of rent-seeking, extortionism, and opportunism during its last stints in power weigh heavily on public memory. The Jatiyatabadi Chhatra Dal (JCD), BNP’s student wing, therefore, could not translate anti-AL sentiment into votes.

Students were caught in a paradox: while BNP’s top brass condemned corruption, its student cadres were often seen perpetuating it. This disconnect between rhetoric and reality further alienated the student electorate, indirectly benefiting Shibir.

Leftist organisations, historically vibrant in Dhaka University, could only nibble at the margins. Long accustomed to living off the “leftovers” of the AL regime—symbolic positions, NGO support, and donor-driven activism—they found themselves politically irrelevant in a post-AL Bangladesh. Their ideological appeal to secularism failed to resonate with a generation disillusioned by both neoliberal inequities and secular authoritarianism. The left’s decline effectively removed yet another competitor from Shibir’s path.

Shibir’s wins must also be placed in the context of international Islamophobia. Globally, Islamist electoral victories—even small ones—are often overrated as existential threats. The examples of Abbas Madani’s Islamic Salvation Front (FIS) in Algeria (1991) and Mohamed Morsi’s Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt (2012–2013) show how Islamist parties’ limited organisational strength was exaggerated into a narrative of unstoppable Islamist ascendancy.

In Algeria, the army cancelled elections, plunging the country into a brutal civil war, on the pretext of preventing Islamist dominance. In Egypt, Morsi’s narrow win was cast as a sweeping mandate, justifying his ouster with Western acquiescence.

In both cases, the Islamists’ rise was real but overstated, and the overstatement itself served geopolitical interests. Bangladesh may now face a similar dynamic: Shibir’s wins, though partly circumstantial, are being interpreted as evidence of a looming Islamist tide, creating a pretext for foreign intervention.

India, reeling from the loss of its closest ally, Sheikh Hasina, views Bangladesh through the prism of national security. Indian think tanks increasingly warn of a “ninth border of Islamic radicalism”, adding Bangladesh to the list of potential hotbeds alongside Kashmir, Punjab (in the past), and Northeast insurgencies.

The irony is that pro-India lobbies within Bangladesh may have tactically facilitated Shibir’s win in order to dramatise this narrative. By allowing the least “acceptable” group to win in DUCSU, JUCSU, CUCSU, and even RUCSU, India can now argue that:

• Bangladesh is slipping into Islamist hands.

• Indian security is under imminent threat.

• A preemptive intervention in Dhaka is justified, much like Israel’s preemptive strikes in Arab capitals, most recently Doha, the fifth Muslim capital to face Israeli fire.

Thus, Shibir’s victories may paradoxically function as propaganda tools for its enemies, who seek to exaggerate the Islamist threat. And the process of developing an anti-Bangladesh narrative has been kicked off by Indian politician Shashi Tharoor. "For many, it's (DUCSU) just a student election in a foreign country. But for New Delhi, this victory is not just a blip – it is a worrying portent of things to come, a political tremor whose aftershocks could soon be felt on our side of the border," he wrote in an opinion piece for NDTV on Friday (12 September).

Toeing Tharoor’s line, former Indian High Commissioner to Bangladesh Harsh Vardhan Shringla sounded the alarm about the Shibir’s win in DUCSU. Speaking at a seminar at Delhi’s India International Centre on 14th September, Shringla, also a Rajya Sabha MP, warned of the emergence of Jamaat-Shibir in Bangladesh after the fall of the Awami League government last year, saying that they are part of the Muslim Brotherhood. He reminded the audience of Jamaat-e-Islami’s role during the 1971 Liberation War, when it was accused of atrocities, including genocide against Hindus, in collaboration with the Pakistan Army.

It may be mentioned here that the nighttime voting took place in Bangladesh in 2018 when Shringla (2016-2019) had been garnering all support for the former fascists, colluding with Awami League and thus expediting the fall of Hasina.

The mechanics of the election also reveal tactical undercurrents:

• BCL cadres, demoralised and abandoned, were divided between abstention and “revenge voting” against JCD.

• JCD voters, wary of BNP’s tainted image, sought to block the left rather than defeat Shibir.

• Leftist remnants lacked cohesion, further splintering the secular vote.

This “collision” of fragmented votes—which BNP leaders themselves acknowledge—enabled Shibir to secure a landslide that exceeds its cadre-based capacity. In essence, Shibir became the accidental beneficiary of others’ weaknesses.

Bangladeshi voters, particularly younger students, often misread Islamist leaders against the backdrop of their immediate, tangible contributions—protection during protests, welfare activities, and pro-student policies—while overlooking the long-term implications of an Islamist agenda.

This mirrors the global overrating of Islamist small successes:

Just as Morsi’s win was magnified into a “Muslim Brotherhood takeover”, Shibir’s DUCSU victory is being painted as a “Shibirisation or Jamaatisation of Islamisation” of Bangladesh. Just as Madani’s FIS was prematurely seen as the Algerian majority, Shibir’s wins were being extrapolated beyond its actual support base.The danger lies not in Shibir’s actual organisational strength, but in the narratives constructed around it, both by supporters who see it as divine vindication and by opponents who frame it as an existential crisis.

The Shibir win in DUCSU and other campus elections represents less a triumph of Islamist mobilisation than a perfect storm of political disarray, tactical voting, and geopolitical manipulation. With the AL discredited, the BNP tainted, and the left irrelevant, Shibir emerged as the unintentional victor. Yet its victory is being weaponised in narratives that exaggerate Islamist ascendancy, potentially setting the stage for foreign intervention under the pretext of regional security.

The precedents of Algeria and Egypt remind us that Islamists’ small successes are often magnified into existential threats—a dynamic that may now be unfolding in Bangladesh. Whether this leads to a deeper democratic opening or a cycle of repression and intervention depends on how domestic actors and international players choose to frame Shibir’s win.

In the end, the irony is that Shibir’s triumph, while real, may serve interests directly opposed to its own—offering its enemies the very justification they need to undermine Bangladesh’s fragile sovereignty.