Political violence and system change often put former leaders in jeopardy. Sheikh Hasina, Bangladesh’s prime minister for 15 years, now faces the death penalty. In Iraq, the same punishment once detonated chaos, while in the United States, political violence barely slowed a president. Bangladesh, at least for the moment, sits uncomfortably somewhere in between.
Hasina has now been convicted in absentia for a deadly crackdown on student protests earlier this year. What started as anger over rising tuition fees, corruption, and police abuses quickly spiraled. Demonstrations spread from dormitories to major campuses around Bangladesh. More than 100 students were killed, thousands arrested, and universities were abruptly shuttered to contain the fury. As the violence intensified, Hasina fled the country and quietly resurfaced in India.
According to an eye-for-an-eye system of justice, Hasina’s sentence appears proportional to her crimes. But there’s more going on behind the scenes. Her sentencing is a window into how political systems decide who gets punished, who survives, and why similar attempts to cling to power can lead to dramatically different outcomes in different countries. Political leaders do not all wield the same level of violence, but they often share the same instinct: to push institutions to their limits to hold onto power. Although the scale varies dramatically—from Hasina’s deadly crackdown to Saddam Hussein’s brutal dictatorship to Donald Trump’s electoral interference—a common impulse emerges: challenging democratic norms to maintain political control.
The critical difference lies not in leaders’ intentions, but in the strength and response of the systems constraining them. Consider the divergent institutional responses: Bangladesh issued Hasina a death sentence in absentia, Brazil barred Jair Bolsonaro from future elections, Iraq executed Saddam after a formal trial, and Trump remain politically viable in the United States despite multiple criminal indictments.
Why Trump Survived and Hasina Didn’t
In Bangladesh, violent repression ended a political career and triggered legal retaliation. In the United States, the January 6 attack, a direct assault on democratic institutions, didn’t stop Donald Trump from winning reelection. Trump’s political survival was shaped not by what happened on the ground that day, but by the relative strength of U.S. institutions and the increasing polarization of American culture. Courts threw out dozens of election challenges by Trump’s team, Congress certified the results, and federal agencies kept operating. Yet none of those guardrails slowed Trump’s political momentum. Deep partisan polarization meant that accountability was defined by party identity rather than democratic norms. The outcome was unusual: a system resilient enough to absorb political violence but too divided to impose consequences on the leader who encouraged it.
Taken together, these contrasts point to a simple idea that often gets overlooked: political survival depends less on a leader’s actions than on the system in which they operate. In some countries, violent repression disqualifies a leader. In others, strong institutions cushion the shock and allow them to continue.
That tension is what makes Hasina’s case so explosive. Her supporters in the Awami League see the verdict as partisan. Opponents see overdue justice. But justice that divides a nation rarely settles anything
Weak Institutions Turn Accountability into Instability
Iraq after Saddam Hussein offers a cautionary tale. Both countries share uncomfortable structural similarities: decades of authoritarian rule, fragile institutions, deep communal rifts, overbearing neighbors, and the rise of assertive Islamic political movements. But Iraq also shows how accountability can backfire when institutions are weak. Punishing Saddam did not bring closure. It inflamed sectarian tensions, cracked what remained of the state, and helped trigger years of instability.
Bangladesh now faces its own version of that test: can justice be delivered without tearing society apart?
History suggests that punishment alone cannot stabilize a country. Legitimacy matters as much as legal verdicts. And Bangladesh has tested this before. During the 2013 Shahbagh movement, mass protests calling for harsh sentences for war criminals ignited violent clashes and deepened political polarization. Even “partial justice” produced widespread fractures, as a warning sign for what may follow.
Bangladesh’s Institutional Test
The verdict also serves as a stress test for Bangladesh’s institutions. Courts, civil servants, and security forces are watching closely. If these institutions appear aligned with one faction, public trust erodes. Leaders begin to fear leaving office. Opponents start to distrust elections. And citizens lose confidence that justice is ever neutral. When trust breaks down, countries slip into cycles of retaliation, making stability harder to maintain.
Moments like this reveal just how fragile institutional authority can be, especially in systems where power has long been personalized. A single misstep can shift public perceptions dramatically, turning skepticism into outright resistance. And once confidence begins to collapse, restoring it is far more difficult than preserving it in the first place. Regional politics only amplify the stakes.
Hasina is currently in India, and Bangladesh is requesting her extradition. How New Delhi responds will shape the domestic political landscape. In countries like Bangladesh, domestic decisions rarely stay domestic.
Why the World Should Care
Bangladesh, Iraq, and the United States illustrate the same pattern: the consequences of political violence depend as much on institutions as on actions.
In Bangladesh, violent repression ended a career and may reshape the political system. In Iraq, punishing a dictator destabilized the country for years. In the United States, strong institutions absorbed political violence and allowed a president to survive it.
“Same act. Different results.” That is the lesson for Bangladesh and for anyone watching how political accountability plays out in transitional societies. This isn’t about moral equivalence. It is about structure: the rules and institutions that decide who falls and who survives. If justice is perceived as partisan, it deepens polarization rather than easing it. And in a country where social trust is already fragile, legitimacy becomes the currency that matters most.
The Limits of Accountability
Hasina’s verdict highlights an old dilemma: justice must be both real and widely accepted. When accountability feels retributive, it divides and inflames rather than heals.
South Africa’s post-apartheid model paired justice with reconciliation, blending accountability with legitimacy. Bangladesh faces the opposite challenge today: punitive justice, weak institutions, and a polarized society. Retaliation is possible. Unrest is likely.
Transitions like this rarely move in a straight line. Societies that lack broad political consensus often see justice become another arena for competition rather than a source of closure. When rival factions interpret the same verdict in entirely different ways, it becomes harder for the state to signal neutrality or build trust. Moments of accountability can open the door to new cycles of grievance instead of breaking old ones. In such environments, even well-intended decisions can produce unintended consequences.
As always, external actors, India, Iran, and others, will shape the outcome. In much of the Global South, politics rarely remain within borders. If polarization deepens, Bangladesh risks entering the same cycle that consumed Iraq after 2003: competing narratives of justice, rival claims to legitimacy, and institutions struggling to referee between them. When societies split over what justice means, political competition becomes existential rather than procedural. Bangladesh is not Iraq, but the structural warning is real: divided publics, partisan courts, and fearful leaders often set the stage for prolonged instability. Without a shared understanding of accountability, the country may find itself repeating patterns it hopes to avoid.
The Bottom Line
Hasina’s sentence is more than a legal verdict. It is a test of Bangladesh’s political system and its ability to heal deep-rooted wounds without creating new ones. What follows will shape the country’s trajectory. History offers stark warnings. In Iraq, harsh punishment after Saddam Hussein’s fall intensified chaos instead of ending it. The United States showed the opposite pattern, with strong institutions absorbing political shocks that might have toppled governments elsewhere. Bangladesh now stands at a crossroads of its own. Will this moment of judicial reckoning bring the country together, or push it further apart?
The stakes are high. This is not about one leader’s fate. It is about whether a young democracy can confront its past without fracturing its future. The question is not whether justice will be served, but what kind of justice can help a divided society move forward. The fundamental truth remains that political survival is rarely about individual leaders. It is about the strength of the systems that govern them. Bangladesh is learning this lesson in real time, with the world watching.