Global Voices - category 'freedom of speech'

The referendum paradox, the double-edged nature of digital democracy, and gender exclusion reveal a sobering reality

Originally published on Global Voices

2026 Bangladeshi general election and referendum postal ballot sending envelope. Image via Wikipedia by Bangladesh Election Commission. Public Domain.

Eighteen months after students and youth took to the streets to topple former President Sheikh Hasina’s increasingly autocratic regime, Bangladesh now faces what Chief Adviser Muhammad Yunus describes as a “century-defining moment.”

When Chief Election Commissioner AMM Nasir Uddin announced the schedule for Bangladesh’s 13th national parliamentary election on December 12, 2025, he framed it as a “historic role in advancing the country’s democratic journey.”

The interim government of Bangladesh described this election as “a test the country cannot afford to fail,” noting that “this opportunity for a democratic transition has come at the cost of enormous sacrifices made by the youth.”

Bangladesh, on February 12, will conduct what the European Union calls the “biggest democratic process of 2026”; however, a referendum mechanism, a digital transformation, and systematic gender marginalization expose the potentially shallow foundations of the country’s democratic renewal.

The referendum paradox

On February 12, voters will not simply elect representatives in Bangladesh’s 13th national parliamentary election; they will also vote on constitutional reforms that Yunus claims will shape the country for the next hundred years. Yet this dual mandate creates what might be called democracy’s Trojan horse — a referendum structure that appears democratic in form while potentially undermining democratic legitimacy in practice.

According to the July Charter Implementation Order, voters will receive a pink ballot containing approximately 185 words of dense constitutional language covering four complex proposals. They must answer a single yes-or-no question: “Do you agree with the ‘July National Charter (Constitutional Reform) Implementation Order, 2025’ and the following reform proposals contained in the July Charter?” No detailed explanation appears on the ballot itself. No opportunity exists to approve some reforms while rejecting others. Citizens simply vote yes or no on the entire package.

2026 Bangladesh Constitutional Referendum Postal Ballot. Image via Wikipedia by the Bangladesh Election Commission. Public Domain.

This approach transforms what should be deliberative democracy into what political scientists term “plebiscitary democracy”—a form in which citizens rubber-stamp elite decisions rather than engaging meaningfully with constitutional engineering. Furthermore, as revealed in National Consensus Commission data, only twelve of the thirty proposed reform areas achieved genuine consensus among political parties, yet Yunus claimed “overall agreement” on all thirty issues.

If voters approve the referendum but the elected Constitutional Reform Council fails to finalize amendments within 270 working days, then a Constitution Amendment Bill prepared by the unelected interim government automatically becomes law.

Consequently, Bangladesh could see constitutional amendments drafted by an interim government — which has no electoral mandate — become binding on a democratically elected parliament simply because that parliament failed to complete its assigned task within an arbitrary timeline.

The Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP) described this mechanism as “wholly irrational, politically motivated, and absurd,” arguing that no bill can become law without passing through parliamentary procedures and receiving presidential confirmation.

Meanwhile, Election Commissioner Abul Fazal Md. Sanaullah noted that mock exercises showed that each voter required seven to eight minutes to complete both ballots, yet the Election Commission’s current arrangements allow only 54 seconds per male voter and 65 seconds per female voter. Standing in queues for hours will discourage participation, especially among women, elderly citizens, and those with health issues. Some voters may simply leave without casting ballots, reducing turnout and weakening electoral legitimacy.

Additionally, concerns about state neutrality have emerged. Analysts have questioned whether the government can remain neutral when field-level officials — many with administrative or electoral responsibilities — have been mobilized to promote a “yes” vote through grassroots outreach. When the state itself appears partisan, even in the absence of explicit coercion, the perception of administrative pressure becomes difficult to avoid. Such perceptions could trigger legal challenges and post-referendum disputes that further destabilize Bangladesh’s fragile democratic transition.

If the referendum succeeds, it binds an elected parliament to reforms it had a minimal role in crafting. If the referendum fails, government advisers warn that “fascism will return to Bangladesh.” Either outcome suggests that Bangladesh’s democratic transition rests on shakier foundations than revolutionary rhetoric would suggest.

Digital democracy’s double edge

When Bangladesh’s Election Commission banned physical campaign posters for the first time in electoral history, it effectively forced the 13th National Parliamentary Election into the digital realm.

Most major campaigns have moved their center of gravity online, reshaping how candidates reach voters and how voters encounter politics.

Roughly 40 percent of voters are under the age of 37, many with little memory of politics conducted exclusively through rallies, posters, and printed manifestos. For this generation, politics appears first on screens, compressed into short videos, graphic explainers, livestreamed speeches, and algorithm-driven feeds.

The youth-based National Citizen Party emerged after the 2024 student protests and has since made TikTok and Instagram key tools for engagement, reshaping protest momentum into brief, emotionally resonant visuals designed to appeal to first-time voters. Similarly, the Bangladesh Nationalist Party has leaned heavily into interactive online platforms, inviting voters to respond directly to policy proposals, while Jamaat-e-Islami, a right-leaning Islamist party, has experimented with crowdsourcing manifesto ideas through dedicated websites.

Despite impressive headline figures, large segments of Bangladesh’s population remain outside the digital ecosystem. Women, older voters, rural residents, and low-income groups are disproportionately represented among those left offline or semi-connected.

Can this shift online represent a genuine structural transformation toward youth agency and merit-based politics, while excluding millions who cannot participate in online political discourse?

Digital platforms enable smaller parties to mobilize constituencies at minimal cost; however, research reveals that sophisticated bot networks and coordinated propaganda campaigns are already working to shape Bangladesh’s electoral outcomes.

The gender exclusion test

Despite comprising over 50 percent of the population and consistently demonstrating higher voter turnout in competitive elections, women account for only 4.22 percent of candidates in the 2026 election, compared to 6.6 percent of total candidates in the 2024 elections.

Of 2,580 nomination papers submitted by candidates from 51 political parties and independents, only 109 came from women — 72 from political parties and 37 from independents. Based on currently available figures, approximately 2,000 candidates will run in 298 constituencies, with the final number of women candidates still unconfirmed, but remaining below 5 percent, representing the lowest women’s candidacy rate since 1991.

Bangladesh Nationalist Party nominated only 10 women among 287 candidates — a mere 3.5 percent that falls short of even the modest 5 percent target the party itself proposed during National Consensus Commission talks.

Bangladesh Jamaat-e-Islami’s record proves even worse. After entering electoral alliances, the party is fielding candidates in more than 200 constituencies, yet not a single nominee is a woman. This comes despite claiming 43 percent of their members are women and announcing plans to establish “the world’s largest women’s university” by merging Bangladesh’s Eden College and Begum Badrunnesa College. Recent comments from the leadership of the party on the position of women created multiple controversies.

Even the youth-led National Citizen Party, teeming with revolutionary youth leaders with a strong female participation, nominated only three women among 47 constituencies — around 7 percent.

If political parties cannot honor basic inclusion commitments in candidate selection, critics ask why anyone should believe they will implement complex constitutional amendments once elected and insulated from immediate accountability.

As Bangladesh approaches these three tests — the referendum paradox, the double-edged nature of digital democracy, and gender exclusion — they converge to reveal a sobering reality.

Together, these will determine whether Bangladesh’s July 2024 uprising translates into genuine democratic consolidation or merely produces what political scientists call “electoral authoritarianism” with a revolutionary facade.

Written by Zulker Naeen

Following the January 2026 elections, conflict-sensitive approaches are increasingly crucial in Uganda’s media ecosystem

Originally published on Global Voices

2025 Peace Journalism Award winners with PJF Director, Gloria Laker Adiiki Aciiro. Photo by Peace Journalism Foundation (PJF). Used with permission.

This article by Justine Muboka was originally published by Peace News Network on January 21, 2026. An edited version is republished on Global Voices as part of a content partnership agreement.

On December 19, 2025, the air in Gulu City, Uganda, carried more than the warmth of the dry season; It carried the weight of history. At the premises of Gulu Women’s Economic Development and Globalization (GWED-G), the Peace Journalism Foundation (PJF) Uganda–East Africa launched the first edition of the Peace Journalism Awards. This initiative is designed to recognize journalism that contributes to peace, social cohesion, and development.

Held under the theme “Celebrating Peace, Progress, and the Power of the Media,” the awards marked a shift in how journalistic excellence is honored. Rather than relying on self-submitted applications, the PJF introduced a bottom-up, community-led nomination model. This approach is grounded in the belief that the grassroots communities — those most affected by journalism — are best placed to assess its value and impact.

The bottom-up model: Why grassroots organizing matters

In traditional journalism awards, recognition is often driven by applications and the submission of selected stories. By contrast, the Peace Journalism Awards rely on community validators and partner organizations, including GWED-G, to identify journalists whose work has made a demonstrable difference in post-conflict contexts such as Northern Uganda. The model is expected to expand to other regions, including Karamoja, Bunyoro, and the Rwenzori sub-region.

Celebrating the Peace Journalism Awards at the Gulu Women’s Economic Development and Globalization (GWED-G). Photo by PJF. Used with permission.

This approach elevates what might otherwise remain invisible. It recognizes reporters in remote villages who use conflict-sensitive language to defuse tensions over land disputes. It also highlights broadcasters who create space for dialogue where violence might otherwise erupt. Under this model, excellence is measured not by prominence but by verifiable community impact — reduced tensions, informed dialogue, and steps toward reconciliation.

Mega FM and the legacy of Gloria Laker

One of the most resonant moments of the ceremony was the Peace Radio Award presentation to Mega FM 102.2. The award’s significance is rooted in history. During the height of the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA) conflict in Northern Uganda, radio played a critical role as a communication bridge. Radio Freedom, established with the involvement of the Uganda People’s Defence Force (UPDF), provided information to displaced communities. It aired messages urging combatants to take advantage of the presidential amnesty. According to publicly acknowledged accounts, these broadcasts contributed to the voluntary return of thousands of former combatants.

Radio Freedom later evolved into Mega FM. Today, under the management of Irene Atek, Mega FM is widely regarded as a platform for dialogue, information sharing, and community engagement in Northern Uganda — illustrating how media can contribute to stabilization and recovery when used responsibly.

Closely linked to this history is the Excellence in Peace Reporting Award, established in honor of Gloria Laker Adiiki Aciro, a 2025 Luxembourg Peace Prize laureate. Laker’s career spans frontline reporting during the LRA conflict to regional mentorship and training, reflecting a transition from conflict coverage to peace-oriented journalism.

The inaugural recipient of this award was Rosemary Anena of Vision Group (Radio Rupiny), who came from the same station where Laker began her career. Her achievement symbolized an intergenerational and “woman-to-woman” transfer of responsibility. In a region where women’s voices were once marginalized, Anena’s work highlights constructive reporting, community resilience, and inclusive narratives.

Talk shows as spaces for de-escalation

The awards also recognized the evolving role of talk show hosts in fragile contexts. Otim Steven Acire, popularly known as “Palaring” of Radio Pacis, was named Talk Show Host of the Year for Northern Uganda. His nomination, submitted by GWED-G, highlighted the importance of mediation skills in live broadcasting.

While conventional journalism emphasizes detachment, the Peace Journalism Foundation underscored that, in high-stakes talk shows, responsible moderation can help prevent escalation. Palaring is recognized for managing tense discussions and ensuring respectful engagement among guests with opposing views. Reflecting on a recent broadcast involving multiple political candidates, he noted that deliberate use of mediation techniques helped maintain calm and constructive dialogue throughout the program.

Following the January 2026 elections, such conflict-sensitive approaches are increasingly relevant. The PJF’s framework seeks to move the media beyond sensationalism toward peace- and development-oriented reporting, emphasizing early identification of conflict triggers and promoting nonviolent responses.

Empowering the future: Youth as peace actors

Another defining moment of the evening was the recognition of the Youth Peace Activist of the Year. Historically, young people in periods of political tension have often been portrayed as vulnerable to manipulation. The PJF’s decision to center youth in peacebuilding reframed this narrative.

Uganda has one of the world’s youngest populations, with over 75 percent of the country being under 35 years old. When Senior Mercy Florence received the award, she emphasized the significance of being recognized in a country where young people constitute the majority of the population. Her acknowledgment sent a message that young people can be agents of social cohesion and constructive engagement. By spotlighting such initiatives, the PJF aims to encourage peaceful participation during the 2026 election cycle and beyond.

PJF Youth Mercy Florence received an award from the UPDF 4th Division PIO, Capt. David Kamya, Justine Muboka, and the Chief Guest, RCC Gulu City. Photo by Peter Banya. Used with permission.

Media, responsibility, and protection

Several speakers used the occasion to reflect on the broader role of media in society. Pamela Angwech, executive director of GWED-G, emphasized that media should be treated as an essential public good rather than a luxury. She noted:

Media should reach all communities, including displaced persons. We should promote peace-oriented and responsible journalism.

Angwech also highlighted the importance of fair labor practices within media houses and the need to appreciate journalists whose work supports the industry. She stressed that protecting journalists and upholding freedom of expression — within the bounds of the law — is fundamental to an informed society.

Gloria Laker Adiiki Aciro, speaking in her capacity as Director of the Peace Journalism Foundation, urged journalists to prioritize development-focused reporting and to learn from regional history.

“It is us who can create a society, so let us promote peaceful development,” she said, referencing the importance of avoiding post-election violence experienced elsewhere in the region.

Speaking on behalf of the security sector, Captain David Kamya, the Fourth Division Uganda People’s Defence Force (UPDF) public information officer, reflected on the human cost of conflict and called for reporting that emphasizes unity and shared responsibility.

“Let us report unity over division, humanity over hatred,” he said, noting that irresponsible reporting can have consequences for entire communities.

Local government also weighed in. Peter Banya, the Gulu City resident city commissioner for Laroo–Pece Division, encouraged journalists to highlight positive developments in the region to balance narratives and support recovery.

The digital frontier: Looking toward 2026 and beyond

Building on the success of the first edition, the PJF announced plans to expand the awards in 2026 to include Digital and Individual Peacebuilders, such as bloggers and online content creators. As information increasingly circulates across digital platforms, these categories aim to recognize efforts that counter misinformation and promote responsible online discourse.

The 2025 Peace Journalism Awards positioned ethical, impact-driven journalism as a cornerstone of sustainable peace. As Gloria Laker noted, supporting peace journalism is an investment in the infrastructure of peace — one that benefits communities, democratic processes, and regional stability. The 2025 laureates included Benson Ongom (Journalist of the Year), Dennis Ojwee (Lifetime Achievement Award), and Otim Steven Acire (Talk Show Host of the Year). They represent a media landscape that prioritizes responsibility over sensationalism. Their recognition affirms a growing consensus: When journalism chooses peace, society as a whole is strengthened.

Written by Peace News

A case that refuses to close reveals how power evades accountability

Originally published on Global Voices

Dr. Aafia Siddiqui. Image via Flickr by Jacob Freeze. CC BY 2.0.

The story of Dr. Aafia Siddiqui, a Pakistani neuroscientist educated in the United States, has remained an open wound for Pakistan for over two decades. Aaafia gained international attention after her 2010 conviction in the United States and is now serving an 86-year prison sentence in Texas for attempted murder and other felonies.

The mystery surrounding her treatment persists because its core facts have never faced transparent, international scrutiny. Instead, the United States and Pakistan offer conflicting narratives regarding her disappearance in 2003 and her reappearance in US custody in 2008. In the gap between these two versions, public trust has drained away.

The 2008 Incident and the US Verdict

The official United States version of events rests on a single afternoon in July 2008. According to court records, Afghan police detained Siddiqui in Ghazni, Afghanistan, allegedly finding documents related to explosives.

During questioning by US personnel, officials claim she grabbed an unsecured M4 rifle and opened fire. No one was hit, but Siddiqui was shot in the torso by US forces during the scuffle. She was subsequently extradited to New York, where a federal jury convicted her in 2010 on charges tied only to that encounter. Notably, she was not convicted of terrorism or membership in Al-Qaeda, but specifically for the attempted murder of US personnel during that encounter. She was sentenced to 86 years in prison.

The disputed timeline: 2003–2008

What the legal record fails to address is the question that defines the case: Where was Siddiqui for five years? Siddiqui testified that she was abducted in Karachi in 2003 by Pakistani security forces and vanished into secret “black site” custody. Her three young children disappeared with her; while one later resurfaced, the fate of the others remains a point of deep contention. Journalists and rights advocates, including those at The Guardian, have argued she was held in unacknowledged detention, possibly at the Bagram Airbase in Afghanistan. Former detainees spoke of a “Grey Lady of Bagram” whose screams haunted the facility, though this connection has never been proven in court or examined by an independent inquiry.

Read More: Pakistan: Dr. Aafia Siddiqui Case – A Veiled Mystery

The evidence surrounding that 2008 shooting has long drawn skepticism from independent observers. Forensic reports noted a lack of gunshot residue on Siddiqui’s hands, no fingerprints on the weapon, and no bullet holes or injuries to the alleged targets despite the “close range” nature of the struggle. Amnesty International, which monitored the trial, flagged serious concerns regarding its fairness and the court’s refusal to investigate the “missing years.” While these doubts do not legally overturn the verdict, they highlight the disparity between the thinness of the tested evidence and the extraordinary weight of her nearly century-long sentence.

Pakistan’s complicity and silence

The role of Pakistan sits at the center of this unresolved history. Rights groups, including the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan, have stated there is sufficient evidence to believe Siddiqui and her children were apprehended by Pakistani intelligence agencies in 2003.

Claims frequently surface that she was handed over to the US for “bounty money” — a practice documented by lawyers like Clive Stafford Smith, who noted that elements within Pakistan’s security apparatus profited from “extraordinary renditions” during the height of US financial aid to the region. To date, Pakistan has neither proven these claims nor denied them with evidence. The state exists in a contradiction: it expresses public sympathy for “the daughter of the nation,” while maintaining a tactical silence regarding the specific mechanics of her 2003 disappearance.

Current status and allegations of abuse

The human cost of this unresolved history is visible today. Siddiqui remains held at Federal Medical Center (FMC) Carswell in Texas. Supporters report that she is frequently denied medical care, not allowed to freely practice her religion, and has faced abuse. Her current lawyer, Clive Stafford Smith, has leveled harrowing allegations, stating in late 2023 that she has been subjected to physical and sexual abuse by guards and inmates.

While the US insists the legal matter is settled, the Pakistani judiciary has begun to lose patience with its own government’s inaction. Between July 2025 and early 2026, the Islamabad High Court repeatedly rebuked Pakistani officials for using the case as a symbolic political tool rather than pursuing a sustained legal strategy. The judges questioned why no international forum has been engaged if the state truly believes she was victimized. These questions point inward. Pakistan demands justice abroad while avoiding inquiry at home.

Power versus accountability

The case endures because it exposes how power shields itself. The United States treats the 2010 verdict as the final word, effectively “fencing off” the uncomfortable questions of secret detention. Pakistan treats the case as a political campaign, useful for populist speeches, but too dangerous for actual subpoenas. Neither state has allowed a full accounting of the five missing years. Neither has accepted the risk that the truth might embarrass institutions.

Ultimately, the public is left with fragments: a conviction based on a disputed moment, a vanished decade, and a woman who became a global symbol only because the truth was deemed too embarrassing for the institutions involved to admit. As legal experts like the late Ramsey Clark once noted, the case remains one of the most troubling examples of how the law can be used to obscure, rather than reveal, the truth.

Silence protects power. Inquiry serves the law.

Written by Syed Salman Mehdi