The relationship between Bangladesh’s civilian government and its military has collapsed to a dangerous low. Trust, once tenuous, has now evaporated almost entirely.

Something happened in recent weeks, an incident not yet visible in public, that pushed this fragile equilibrium past the breaking point. Neither side is willing to speak openly, and even seasoned observers cannot identify the precise trigger.

What is clear, however, is that the military is not preoccupied with the visible debates consuming the political class: the fight over the July Charter, the wrangling around proportional representation in the Upper House, or the parade of half-baked reform proposals.

Their grievances lie elsewhere.

For the generals, the distrust runs through individuals inside the government itself–men and women whose political calculations threaten the military’s sense of institutional survival.

The possible removal of the Army Chief and the refusal to oust General Kamrul, despite a unified demand from all three service heads, have only deepened the fissure. The army sees manipulation and an effort to weaken its command structure.

From the government’s side, the problem is simpler and starker: General Waker has refused to recognize the primacy of civilian authority. An interim administration, already wobbling under pressure, cannot afford to be undermined from within.

This breakdown matters because it goes beyond bureaucratic turf wars. The absence of a political settlement on reform has created a vacuum and the military is slipping into it.

Senior officers are no longer waiting on the sidelines; they are weighing the calculus of banning the Jatiya Party, questioning the legitimacy of proportional representation elections, and openly wondering if the polls will even take place.

To them, if the politicians fail and paralysis grips Dhaka, the army is not just entitled but duty-bound to step in.

Bangladesh’s democracy has always been fragile. But what we are seeing now is fracture. The country’s political class has left the door ajar, and the military is ready to walk through.

An unwanted possibility

For Bangladeshis of a certain generation, the principle seems nonnegotiable that the army has no place in politics.

That understanding was the hard-won outcome of the 1990 mass movement, which forced the military back into the barracks and restored civilian rule. Any maneuvering by the generals today is a breach of a national covenant.

The danger is plain. If the political crisis deepens, if the gulf between government and army keeps widening, then the settlement of 1990 could unravel.

Intervention could become normalized, not as a rare emergency but as a routine instrument of governance. That prospect is nothing short of chilling.

After decades of agitation, the people of Bangladesh secured the right to a government free from direct military control. To see that achievement squandered would be a betrayal of history itself.

The irony is hard to miss. Just months ago, the consensus on the July Declaration and the announcement of an election timeline had suggested a way out of the stalemate. For a brief moment, it seemed as if the worst had passed.

Yet this week, Dhaka feels more tense, more unsettled, than at any time in recent memory. The sense of foreboding is unmistakable: the line drawn in 1990 is being tested, and perhaps redrawn.

That is why the burden falls squarely on Bangladesh’s political parties. They must strike a settlement, however grudging, on the hard questions that continue to paralyze them: proportional representation in the Upper House and the roadmap to elections.

In the aftermath of Sheikh Hasina’s ouster, a new order is already taking shape. Old elites are recalibrating, factions are shifting, and power brokers are testing the limits of their influence.

In such a volatile landscape, the stakes are unmistakable: either Bangladesh lays the foundation for a political system insulated from military intrusion, or it risks sliding backward into a cycle of intervention and instability.

History offers a blunt reminder. Independence was not handed down; it was seized. But preserving that independence requires more discipline than winning it.

Nothing in Bangladesh’s democratic trajectory will happen automatically. Everything must be fought for, and fought for again.

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Zia Hassan is a political analyst