For over a decade, memes have served as potent weapons in cultural conflicts, often wielding more influence than most realize.

This is because humor has always been a powerful political tool, and in the age of social media, it’s no surprise that internet memes have evolved into effective vehicles for spreading specific ideas.

Events like the 2016 US election underscored the importance of mastering "memetic warfare" to influence public opinion.

It showed that propaganda memes, skillfully designed to serve a specific agenda, can easily blend into the sea of innocuous memes shared daily.

In Bangladesh, where freedom of expression was heavily restricted under Sheikh Hasina's brutal regime, memes have emerged as a channel for expressing public frustration and political disenfranchisement.

Initially created to mock the oppressive political climate, these memes have sparked political awareness and cultivated a spirit of dissent.

At the forefront of popularizing memes in the Bangladeshi social media landscape are Punny Kabir and Syed Faiz Ahmed.

Punny, based in Germany and pursuing her PhD at the University of Cologne, is affectionately dubbed the "meme queen" of Bangladesh's online sphere.

Syed Faiz, a seasoned journalist and devoted Liverpool fan, complements his meme-making with sharp and sporadic commentary on politics and culture.

Faisal Mahmud, editor of Bangla Outlook (English), recently sat down with these two gifted satirists and online activists to discuss the role of memes and satire as tools for dissent, as well as their perspectives on Bangladesh's July revolution.

Here is an excerpt of that conversation for our readers.

Faisal Mahmud: My first question is for Faiz Bhai. You use memes to convey political opinions, effectively summarizing significant political events with brevity and impact. What inspired you to adopt this approach? Did you choose memes as a creative workaround to navigate the challenges of expressing dissent under Sheikh Hasina's regime, or was it primarily driven by a love for humor and satire?

Syed Faiz Ahmed: Expressing oneself directly under Sheikh Hasina’s oppressive regime was undoubtedly challenging. Having been involved in student politics for a long time, I consider myself politically aware.

From this perspective, I realized the limitations of our language. Especially when speaking to the general public, the language we use often fails to fully resonate with them. Complex ideas don’t always have the same impact.

I discovered that humor, rhetoric, and storytelling are more effective in creating connections. People relate better to these forms of communication. It’s not just about making a connection; it’s also an icebreaker—especially when it’s visual or non-textual, rather than purely textual.

In the context of Bangladesh, where literacy rates are relatively low and people's attention is easily diverted, this approach proves even more effective.

As a student of filmmaking, I have always understood the power of visuals. Figures like Satyajit Ray and even Mao Zedong influenced this approach—mocking opponents is a potent tool. So, it felt like a natural evolution. When Hasina started restricting space for open dialogue, it wasn't something I planned; rather, it was a historical pattern repeating itself.

One of my favorite books, Whispering Jokes, was written during Hitler's era, where jokes were used to mock him. After the internet took off, I naturally gravitated toward humor, particularly political satire. It's more than just entertainment—it’s a powerful political weapon. Similar practices were also common in Russia during the '70s and '80s.

To be honest, direct statements don’t allow for much creativity. During the liberation struggle, we saw that indirect expressions carried more wit and artistry. When someone decodes a meme, they become an active participant in the message.

If I were to say directly, "Hasina is good" or "Hasina is bad," it wouldn’t have the same impact. That’s why I chose memes as my medium of expression.

FM: Punny apa, Faiz Bhai mentioned that creating memes was a safer option for him in Bangladesh, as many [problematic] people wouldn't immediately grasp the message. But you were living abroad. What made you choose memes as a medium? Was it a way to express your creativity, or did you see it as a powerful platform for communication? Did you have any specific purpose in mind when using it?

Punny Kabir: When I began creating political memes, they weren’t seen as a powerful tool [in Bangladesh]. This was around 2018-2019, and at that time, I was living abroad. Being away from home often strengthens your connection to your country, and I felt that deeply. That’s when I started making memes.

At the time, very few people were making political memes. Slowly, memes began to gain traction—not just globally but also within Bangladesh. People started to understand the language of memes bit by bit. At the same time, internet usage was growing, and ironically, those who facilitated access to the internet became the subjects of our memes.

The 2018 election left us utterly disillusioned. After that, it felt like there would be no change for the next five years. Political repression and despair were at their peak. We had never seen such a bleak state for other platforms. Social media became the only space left for free expression, while almost all mainstream media became government propaganda outlets.

In Bangladesh, speaking out directly had become increasingly difficult. Although living abroad was relatively safer, it wasn’t risk-free. Many people were targeted, with families pressured through false lawsuits, land disputes, and fabricated charges—tools used to create lifelong problems for individuals.

I faced similar situations. After posting something, my family would call and ask me to take it down. My father, a lifelong politician involved with the leftist Bhashani-NAP, became increasingly worried due to his age, as did my mother.

I’ve always found the language of memes fascinating. At first, I created a few just for fun, as politics was always on my mind. Growing up in a politically aware family, thanks to my father, it felt natural. But after the 2018 election, I noticed something significant: the younger generation—Gen Z—was engaging with politics through memes.

People began saying, “We’re learning politics through memes.” Some even suggested I write a book called “Politics Through Memes.” That kind of response was incredibly encouraging. Even my nephew, who was actively involved in the movements, started asking me political questions he’d never asked before.

Memes aren’t just about humor; they’re an interactive platform. Through memes, people are discussing, learning, and raising questions. This interactive aspect has always felt the most important and inspiring to me.

FM: Are political memes the digital counterpart of the political cartoons found in newspapers, or do they have a more subtle and far-reaching influence? Political cartoons were traditionally created for a specific audience and their impact was limited to the readership of the publication. In contrast, memes spread quickly across digital platforms. So, are memes simply digital cartoons, or do they possess unique qualities and strengths that go beyond traditional forms of satire?

SFA: That’s an excellent question. Punny and I actually wrote a detailed research paper on this subject, though it hasn’t been published yet. The paper focuses on political memes, and through our research, we’ve come to realize that memes are the most democratic form of art. Why?

There are two key differences between political cartoons and memes.

First, creating cartoons requires a certain skill. A cartoon depends entirely on the talent and creativity of the cartoonist. In contrast, memes don’t require specialized skills. All you need is an image and some text, and voilà—you have a meme.

Second, memes don’t have a single authority or ownership. They spread rapidly and are shared so widely that tracking them is nearly impossible. While a meme might occasionally have a creator’s signature, even that doesn’t hold up because watermarks can easily be removed in digital media.

By contrast, a cartoon is always tied to its creator. For example, when you see a Debasish cartoon, you immediately recognize it as his work. But with memes, that’s not the case.

This anonymity is a significant strength of memes. If a cartoonist faces persecution—like arrest or threats—they might stop creating. But with memes, anyone can post anonymously or use a fake identity, making them far more resilient and powerful.

Another key difference is that cartoons are static. Once created, they don’t change. Memes, on the other hand, are highly adaptable. The same meme can convey completely different messages with just a minor change in text or slight manipulation.

For instance, one image could be used to mock Sheikh Hasina, and with a small tweak, the same image could mock Khaleda Zia. This flexibility gives memes a unique versatility.

For all these reasons, I often say that memes are the very embodiment of democracy.

FM: Punny apa, I have the same question for you: Are memes the digital equivalent of political cartoons? Have political memes ever served as an inspiration for you?

PK: When we started creating memes, there was a notable gap in the political cartoons in Bangladesh.This is because cartoons have always been a source of concern for authoritarian regimes. It’s said that even Hitler was intimidated by Charlie Chaplin.

While previous regimes didn’t actively target cartoonists, the Awami League has used various methods—sometimes invoking religion or feminism—to take action against them. They’ve also weaponized the Digital Security Act to suppress dissent.

Looking back at newspapers from 2001 to 2006, there were numerous cartoons mocking Khaleda Zia, even when she was in power. Similarly, during Sheikh Hasina’s 1996–2001 tenure, cartoons mocking her were also published.

However, after 2008, the Awami League’s stance completely shifted. While there was some freedom between 2008 and 2012, things took a drastic turn after 2013.

Memes offer an advantage that cartoons simply cannot. Drawing cartoons is a complex skill that only a few can master, making it easier to intimidate or control cartoonists. However, the dynamics of memes are entirely different.

Why do people spend more time on Facebook than watching TV? Because on TV, people are passive spectators, while on Facebook, they can actively participate. People enjoy engaging in creative activities.

Creating a meme is simple, whereas drawing a cartoon is much more difficult. With cartoons, we remain passive consumers, but with memes, individuals become both consumers and creators at the same time.

Memes are not tied to a specific medium, whereas cartoons depend on a platform for distribution. This flexibility makes memes a more democratically powerful form of expression.

FM: So, would you say memes are essentially the digital version of political cartoons? Did political memes inspire you?

PK: Creating memes isn’t a quick task—it takes time. While an idea might come to you suddenly, there’s still a significant amount of effort involved. Each day brings new events, and you have to identify what’s trending. The “hot topic” online doesn’t always align with what traditional media highlights.

This means staying informed, understanding the context, and ensuring the meme maintains the right tone and message while selecting the appropriate template. It’s a process that demands time and attention.

FM: Memes and cartoons are often tied to specific cultures or contexts, making them hard to understand without prior knowledge. Is it possible to create memes with international appeal based on localized topics? Is there a method to ensure that memes resonate with global audiences?

SFA: Let me put it this way: Memes are fundamentally an online phenomenon, driven by algorithms. Without a localized focus, platforms like Facebook limit your content's reach, preventing it from gaining international attention.

In Bangladesh, Facebook dominates social media, while globally, Twitter has a stronger presence. If our content were more Twitter-based, reaching a global audience would be easier. However, due to Facebook’s design and the low usage of Twitter here, most of our content stays localized.

PK: Meme creation follows a certain structure, which by nature tends to be localized, as it is deeply rooted in local culture and phenomena. However, many memes rely on universal templates that allow people to make connections and grasp the nuances of a given context.

There are widely recognized global meme templates that can easily be adapted to fit the Bangladeshi context. On the other hand, introducing a Bangladeshi meme template to a global audience is challenging, as the cultural influence of Bangladesh on the global stage remains limited.

FM: Now, regarding the July uprising: Punny apa, since you were abroad, how did you view this revolution from a distance? Did you foresee the government's fall on the 5th? How much of the event felt organic, and how much of it seemed pre-planned?

PK: My perspective about the July uprising is limited as I followed it mainly through social media, which was one of the few available channels for updates. But I had many contacts from Generation Z, and from the 14th July onwards, I barely slept and started posting actively.

During the Abu Sayed incident, I almost watched it unfold live. Even though I was 7,000 miles away, there was only a 2–3-minute delay, and I witnessed everything in real-time on social media. This incident became a crucial turning point in shifting the narrative.

Another unexpected shift came when students from private universities  joined the protests. When middle-class youth were shot, I knew the government’s time was running out. Previously, the regime had survived by oppressing the poor or eliminating grassroots leaders, but attacking middle-class youth was a line they couldn't cross without facing serious consequences.

This revolution didn’t just bring down Sheikh Hasina; it unraveled their entire narrative. The fascist ideology that supported their regime began to disintegrate. Even the once-sacrosanct narrative of Mujibism began to lose its hold. While criticizing Sheikh Hasina had become common, no one dared challenge Mujib—he was seen as "untouchable."

But this time, the youth began creating memes about Mujib, and we indirectly referenced him as well. By August 1st, I was completely convinced when I saw the youth mocking the government with "Paglu Dance" memes.

In the usually somber month of mourning, they proclaimed, "This August is not a month of grief, but a month of joy." These memes dismantled the regime’s carefully crafted narrative. That’s when I knew it was only a matter of time before the government would fall.

FM: Faiz bhai, you were right there on the streets during the turbulent July period. I met you there. When did you first realize that this government wouldn't survive?

SFA: The July uprising was entirely leaderless and anonymous. Many of the participants might not have initially been motivated by a desire to fight inequality, yet they declared, "This time, we won’t go back. We’ll die if necessary, but we won’t leave."

I was in Jatrabari at the time, and the protests were quickly spreading to places like Uttara and beyond. That’s when I realized that this was rapidly turning into something far larger.

The key turning point came when students from private universities joined in. That’s when I knew the government wouldn’t survive. Those of us involved on the ground understood that without the participation of private university students, Sheikh Hasina might have managed to hold on. I discussed this with friends and said, "This movement is becoming centralized."

Several individuals played crucial roles in this process. Nahid Islam was one of the most significant heroes among us for standing up with great courage. After August 1, the movement became truly centralized.

Then, when Salimullah Khan stood in front of ULAB and declared, "We’ll accept nothing less than Sheikh Hasina’s resignation," the movement gained a new level of momentum. That video went viral, sparking fresh hope across the country.

Anu Muhammad was another key figure. On August 2, he boldly declared, "Our single demand is Sheikh Hasina’s resignation." Many mid-level leaders from the Communist Party of Bangladesh (CPB) were saying at the time, "Missing out on this movement would be disastrous or suicidal. Our top-level leadership is deeply corrupt."

But Anu Muhammad shattered that narrative in one powerful statement: "Neither the Awami League nor the leftists are backing this." His words completely shifted the narrative. These two individuals—Salimullah Khan and Anu Muhammad—made it clear that people from all walks of life had turned against Sheikh Hasina, and that her government was not long for this world.

FM: How do you assess the first 100 days of the interim government? What has been effective, what hasn't, and what changes do you believe should be made?

PK: We must keep in mind that, although people are speaking more freely now, the Cyber Security Act (CSA) is still in place, meaning it could be enforced at any time. For those of us creating memes, this CSA continues to be significant threats. Despite the government’s repeated promises to repeal them, no action has been taken so far.

I believe the government needs to strengthen itself and work towards eliminating corruption within law enforcement agencies. In the final 25 days of the previous regime, law enforcement became adversaries of the people, and restoring trust in them will be a difficult task. While there is a risk of anarchy, it is crucial for the government to assert its authority more firmly now.

Moreover, urgent measures must be taken to protect minorities, ensuring their safety. While Muslims may not face the same challenges, all minority groups deserve state-backed protection to freely practice their religion and culture.

SFA: People expect the interim government to make bold decisions within their limited time frame. For example, during the 1/11 government, there was some resentment among the urban middle class.

However, when I spoke to people in rural areas, it became clear that they believed these types of governments were capable of taking strong actions, such as demolishing illegal buildings like the Rangs Bhaban or launching large-scale projects like Hatirjheel.

Political parties, on the other hand, often struggle to take such bold steps, and this perception benefits interim governments. However, the downside is that these governments lack direct connections to the people. As they aren’t political, they don’t have local representatives or grassroots networks, which distances them from the population.

Regrettably, this interim government has failed to leverage the initial advantages it had. This is one of its most significant shortcomings. They had the chance to make swift decisions but didn’t take it.

What is most disappointing about this government is its entanglement in bureaucratic inefficiencies. Initially, we hoped they would repeal the Cyber Security Act (CSA) since they didn’t rely on votes to stay in power.

But now, it seems Dr. Muhammad Yunus has bowed to political party pressures. Had he acted decisively early on, he could have maintained a firmer position against the political parties. This has left me profoundly disappointed.

FM: Thank you both for your time.

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