After close to two decades in political exile, Tarique Rahman is finally speaking to the media again. But his much-hyped BBC Bangla interview, while politically charged, offered no clear plan for rescuing a nation mired in economic crisis. In a country desperate for direction, silence on the economy is not caution — it’s negligence.
Tarique Rahman’s first major media appearance in years was always going to draw attention. His BBC Bangla interview — where he pledged to return to Bangladesh, contest elections, and reset ties with key international partners — dominated headlines across the country. His confident tone and readiness to confront the past signalled a man intent on reclaiming political ground.
Yet amid the political theatrics, one issue was conspicuously absent: the economy.
For millions of Bangladeshis struggling with rising prices and vanishing job prospects, this omission was glaring. A display of political ambition is good for mobilising a base, especially one as erratic as his has been, but what the wider populace truly needs from him, or anyone, is a credible economic vision that can rebuild this nation.
Bangladesh’s economy is under strain. Inflation has remained stubbornly high, the taka continues to weaken, and youth unemployment has reached alarming levels. The IMF warns that growth could slip below 4 percent this financial year, while inflation peaked near 12 percent in mid-2024. For a nation that once prided itself on steady growth and industrial expansion, these numbers tell a sobering story. Political ambition, in such a climate, means little without economic accountability.
A VOID AT THE HEART OF THE MESSAGE
Mr Rahman’s interview made headlines for his promise to return home and his comments about democracy. Yet beneath the noise was a telling silence. He spoke in volumes about restoring accountability and moral governance, but nothing about inflation, fiscal reform, or job creation. His passing comment that a BNP government would “restore economic balance” sounded hopeful, but it lacked substance.
The problem is not just political. It is structural. Stabilising the economy will take years of disciplined policymaking, and that begins with vision. The public needs to know how a future BNP government would create jobs, attract investment, and tame prices. Without that clarity, Mr Rahman’s comeback risks feeling like a nostalgic rerun for the fans, aka his party members, rather than a new chapter for the broader public.
FOUR FRONTS THAT DEMAND ANSWERS
If Tarique Rahman hopes to build credibility as a leader, he must confront four economic challenges head-on.
First, jobs. The BNP’s promise to create ten million jobs has struck a chord with the young. But slogans do not fill pay slips. To make the pledge believable, he needs to say where these jobs will come from. Manufacturing? IT exports? Service industries? A credible plan would include tax breaks for small firms, vocational training for young people, and targeted investment in digital infrastructure. Without that, the “ten million” promise risks sounding like theatre rather than policy.
Second, investment. For years, political instability and weak institutions have kept investors away. Both local entrepreneurs and foreign partners complain about arbitrary regulations and corruption. Restoring confidence will mean stronger banking oversight, impartial enforcement of contracts, and a clear signal that the state and the financial sector will no longer be a playground for political allies.
Some BNP insiders say Rahman’s vagueness is “tactical”. They argue that early policy declarations could be twisted by his opponents or the authorities. That may be true. Yet silence does not inspire confidence – the ordinary voters do not want to hear hyperbole, they want to be able to visualise a stable future. Even broad signals — a commitment to fiscal transparency or investor protection — would have shown he understands the weight of economic responsibility that must be borne by anyone who truly wants to pull Bangladesh out of its current downward slide.
Third, inflation. Prices of daily essentials have outpaced wages, leaving households squeezed. Ousted Awami League government often used short-term controls and politically motivated subsidies, worsening fiscal pressures. If Mr Rahman wants to present himself as a responsible alternative, he must show that his approach would be more disciplined and targeted, focused on helping the vulnerable rather than appeasing voter blocs.
Fourth, skills. Bangladesh produces thousands of graduates each year who cannot find suitable jobs, while industries complain of a shortage of skilled workers. A gutted school system and hordes of pointless universities created during the last regime serve to impart no skills that our economy needs. That mismatch stifles productivity. The struggles young people undertake to fight for the limited number of jobs – exams after exams, moving to dense urban areas, living in squalid conditions, spending half the day in commute – is soul destroying. Why would they be mollified by vague platitudes? A serious government would overhaul education policy, expand technical training, and invest in digital literacy. Someone with the intention to lead would at least have a vision of such changes. Mr Rahman often speaks about empowering youth, but empowerment means little without employability.
BETWEEN RHETORIC AND REALITY
Mr Rahman’s hesitation may reflect his circumstances. Years of exile, ongoing legal battles, and the volatility of Bangladeshi politics make public positioning difficult. Every policy word is a potential weapon in the hands of his rivals. Still, leadership is about risk. Every day he avoids explaining how he would manage the economy, doubts grow about whether he can move from opposition to governance.
The timing could not be more critical. The ‘Monsoon Uprising’ of July 2024 shattered the long-established political order. The BNP now has a rare opening to redefine itself as a responsible, modernising force. To seize it, Mr Rahman must look beyond grievance politics and offer a story of economic renewal.
LEARNING FROM OTHERS
There are lessons abroad. When Imran Khan rose to power in Pakistan, he paired his anti-corruption message with promises of economic reform, however unevenly executed. In Britain, Keir Starmer rebuilt Labour’s credibility by putting fiscal discipline before ideological purity. Voters respond to leaders who marry conviction with competence.
The opposite is also true. Kamala Harris’s short-lived presidential run in the United States showed that vagueness can destroy momentum. Voters rarely trust a politician they cannot define. For Tarique Rahman, whose public image has long been shaped by others — by his opponents, by the courts, by exile — definition is survival.
AN OPENING TO REINTRODUCE HIMSELF
Bangladesh stands at a crossroads. The political vacuum left by the July upheaval is both a danger and an opportunity. For Mr Rahman, it is a chance to reintroduce himself not just as the son of Ziaur Rahman and Khaleda Zia, but as a leader with a concrete economic plan. A single, well-crafted policy address could change perceptions overnight. A BNP white paper outlining its recovery strategy could project readiness, discipline, and seriousness.
The country does not expect miracles. It expects clarity. Voters want to know how the next government will create growth, protect savings, and rebuild confidence. Investors want signals that the rules will be stable and the markets open.
International partners want reassurance that Bangladesh will manage its debts and trade commitments responsibly. None of this requires a full manifesto today, but it does require intent.
THE STAKES
Every economic crisis is, in the end, a test of leadership. Bangladesh’s young people are running out of patience. The middle class is shrinking under the weight of inflation. The business community is paralysed by uncertainty. The international community is watching closely to see whether the next government can offer reform instead of revenge.
For Tarique Rahman, the challenge is simple but urgent. He must move from grievance to governance, from slogans to substance. The time for silence has passed. Bangladesh does not need more empty promises. It needs plans, costs, and timelines — the real language of leadership.
If he wants to be seen as a statesman rather than a survivor, he must start speaking that language, and soon. Because the economy will not wait for politics to catch up.
Adil Mahmood is a former journalist.
