Hussein Muhammad Ershad’s repeated call to “abandon the politics of vengeance” remains remarkably relevant today, when political dialogue in both developing and developed democracies has become deeply polarized. Ershad demonstrated that politics grounded in civility, developmental focus, and rural empathy could transcend the chaos of ideology and violence.
In an era where religious polarization continues to destabilize democracies, his balancing act — though sometimes criticized — offers a nuanced lesson in statecraft. A pluralistic society is not one that denies religious identity but one that accommodates it respectfully and equitably.
In the discourse of development, Western models often dominate: urban-centric growth, trickle-down economics, and high-tech industrialization have long been upheld as universal blueprints. Yet, overlooked among these paradigms is a powerful grassroots-driven model implemented in Bangladesh under the leadership of President Hussain Muhammad Ershad — a model that prioritized rural empowerment, decentralized governance, and infrastructure equity. As the world re-evaluates approaches to inclusive development in the post-pandemic, climate-vulnerable, and increasingly polarized age, there is much the West can learn from this often-overlooked “Pallibandhu” (Friend of the Villages) legacy.
Ershad, a former army chief who assumed power in 1982, governed Bangladesh for nine years — a period marked not only by political turbulence but also by unprecedented rural transformation. Contrary to the common narrative of military rulers being urban elitists or disconnected technocrats, Ershad turned his administration’s attention toward the villages — the true heart of Bangladesh. His philosophy was encapsulated in a timeless motto: “If the 68,000 villages survive, Bangladesh will survive.”
This approach — rural-first, bottom-up, and infrastructure-led — should not merely be remembered as national nostalgia. It offers a practical case study for developing countries struggling with urban-rural divides, and even for advanced economies now grappling with post-industrial regional inequality and rural political alienation.
One of Ershad’s most significant structural reforms was the introduction of the Upazila system, a decentralized administrative model that granted substantial power and resources to sub-districts across the country. This reform enabled local governments to identify needs, allocate resources, and implement projects in real time — cutting through the bottlenecks of central bureaucracy.
Western development experts often speak about “bringing governance closer to the people,” but few leaders have institutionalized it as boldly or as comprehensively as Ershad did. His Upazila model improved rural service delivery, allowed for local innovation, and fostered a sense of participatory governance that remains relevant today — especially in the age of digital connectivity and citizen engagement.
The lesson here is clear: decentralization is not merely an administrative rearrangement — it is a catalyst for empowerment and ownership. In an era when rural populations in Europe and America feel abandoned by national policy elites, Ershad’s model is a reminder that meaningful engagement begins by trusting local leadership.
Between 1982 and 1990, Ershad’s government built over 10,000 miles of paved roads, 508 bridges, and connected previously isolated regions through strategic infrastructure — including the iconic Jamuna, Buriganga, and Meghna bridges. He recognized early on that without connectivity, rural development would remain a dream.
While Western urban centers thrive, many of their rural counterparts are stuck in cycles of decay due to deteriorating infrastructure. In contrast, Ershad understood that national prosperity must be geographically inclusive. Infrastructure was not a vanity project under his leadership; it was a vehicle for integration, mobility, trade, and dignity.
This equity-focused infrastructure model can inspire today’s global development community to move beyond GDP-centric thinking and focus on how roads, electricity, and transport can transform marginalized regions socially and economically.
When Ershad came to power, Bangladesh generated only 750 megawatts of electricity. By the time he stepped down in 1990, that figure had risen to 2,900 megawatts — most of it extending to rural areas. His administration prioritized electrification in villages, enabling irrigation, agro-processing, small businesses, and education to flourish.
This strategic investment in rural energy contrasts sharply with many developing nations today, where electricity remains concentrated in capital cities. Even some parts of the developed world — including rural America — continue to struggle with reliable energy access. Ershad’s model challenges the notion that only urban hubs deserve priority in national utility planning.
In today’s renewable energy push, the same rural-first mindset can help deploy off-grid solar and wind systems to communities still left behind by traditional grids.
Ershad’s legacy is also notable for its pragmatic and inclusive approach to religion. While he declared Islam the state religion, he simultaneously institutionalized protections and benefits for other faiths. He established religious welfare trusts for Hindus, Buddhists, and Christians, and introduced government holidays for festivals such as Janmashtami.
In an era where religious polarization continues to destabilize democracies, his balancing act — though sometimes criticized — offers a nuanced lesson in statecraft. A pluralistic society is not one that denies religious identity but one that accommodates it respectfully and equitably.
Despite assuming office through military means, Ershad voluntarily transitioned Bangladesh toward parliamentary democracy. He formed the Jatiya Party in 1986, introduced an 18-point program centered on development, decentralization, and social harmony, and advocated for peaceful coexistence across the political spectrum.
His repeated call to “abandon the politics of vengeance” remains remarkably relevant today, when political dialogue in both developing and developed democracies has become deeply polarized. Ershad demonstrated that politics grounded in civility, developmental focus, and rural empathy could transcend the chaos of ideology and violence.
While the West debates over how to reconnect with disillusioned rural voters, how to reverse economic centralization, or how to rebuild social trust, Ershad’s legacy offers a grounded framework. It’s not about replicating his every policy but understanding the core principles that made his rural-first approach succeed:
· Prioritize equity over elitism
· Enable local governance instead of central micromanagement
· Invest in connectivity not just for movement, but for dignity
· Extend infrastructure and services as a human right, not a political favor
· Approach faith and identity with respectful inclusivity
The future of development lies not in glittering smart cities alone, but in the empowerment of the most neglected corners of every nation — something Ershad understood and acted upon, long before global development frameworks began to catch up.
As Bangladesh moves forward and the world rethinks its models, the life and legacy of Pallibandhu Ershad deserve renewed attention — not just for the sake of memory, but for the blueprint it quietly offers the world.
About the author: Kazi Mamunur Rashid is the Secretary General of Jatiyo Party