Editorial

By pronouncing a death sentence on Sheikh Hasina in absentia, the International Crimes Tribunal did not deliver justice; it delivered revenge, gift-wrapped as jurisprudence. The cheering inside the courtroom and the celebratory fireworks outside told the real story: this was never about law. It was about settling scores.

No one denies that July and August 2024 were drenched in blood. Hundreds of young protesters died, many shot by security forces. Those deaths demand accountability. But accountability is not the same as ritual humiliation of a fallen leader by an unelected regime that seized power through mob fury.

Muhammad Yunus’s interim government, installed after Hasina fled on a military helicopter, has used the very tribunal she created to prosecute 1971 collaborators as a blunt instrument to erase her and her Awami League from Bangladesh’s future. That is not catharsis; it is annihilation.

The trial was a mockery of due process: a single state-appointed lawyer for multiple defendants with conflicting interests, no cross-examination of the star witness (a former police chief who bought his freedom with testimony), and a 1,200-page judgment rushed out in weeks. Even Human Rights Watch, hardly a friend of Hasina’s authoritarian streak, called it “falling short of fair-trial standards.” When victors write history with the gallows, the verdict becomes just another act of violence.

Hasina was no democrat in her final years. Elections were stage-managed, critics jailed, the media muzzled. Yet under her iron rule Bangladesh also became one of the world’s fastest-growing economies, lifted millions out of poverty, built the Padma Bridge with its own money, and gave girls the confidence to dream beyond the village. None of that excuses the killings, but it complicates the cartoon portrait of a bloodthirsty tyrant now being peddled to justify the noose.

Worse, this verdict heals nothing. It deepens the wound. Thirty percent of Bangladeshis still see Hasina as the daughter of Bangabandhu and the architect of their progress. Banning her party, hunting her lieutenants, and now sentencing her to hang will not silence that base; it will radicalise it. The bombs that rocked Dhaka hours after the verdict are the first warning.

Justice that looks like vengeance breeds only fresh cycles of retribution. Bangladesh deserved better than this theatrical bloodletting. It deserved truth, reconciliation, and elections—not a kangaroo court pronouncing death on a 78-year-old woman living in exile because her own people turned on her.

Today the students who toppled a dictator have been handed a poisoned chalice. They have replaced one form of fear with another. History will record November 17, 2025, not as the day justice prevailed, but as the day Bangladesh chose the rope over the difficult, imperfect work of building a democracy that can forgive as well as punish.

The steady rise of Indian students in the United States—now crossing an impressive 3.63 lakh in the 2024–25 academic year—offers a powerful reflection of aspiration, resilience, and global mobility. A 10% year-on-year increase, despite tightening visa norms, extended processing delays, and geopolitical uncertainties, is not merely a statistic; it is a story of determination. It signals that the pursuit of quality education and global exposure continues to outweigh bureaucratic hurdles and systemic anxieties.

At one level, this trend highlights the enduring appeal of U.S. universities. American institutions remain global leaders in research, innovation, and interdisciplinary learning, particularly in STEM fields. For thousands of Indian students, these campuses are launchpads to advanced careers, entrepreneurship, and pathways into the global knowledge economy. Yet the growing numbers also reflect India’s evolving educational landscape—one where the domestic system, despite reforms, still struggles to match global infrastructure, research opportunities, and faculty resources.

But the surge must also be understood in the context of challenges. Visa unpredictability has become a recurring concern, with students often caught in procedural limbo, facing repeated interview delays, rejections, and financial stress. The burden is even heavier for first-generation learners and students from smaller towns who invest their family’s lifetime savings in the hope of a foreign degree. These barriers underline the need for smoother bilateral engagement, streamlined visa mechanisms, and better information channels for applicants.

More importantly, the rising numbers raise a deeper question: is India prepared for the long-term consequences of this outward flow? The exodus of talent—often the most skilled and ambitious—fuels brain drain at a time when India itself is pushing to become a modern knowledge hub. Instead of viewing foreign education as a one-way pipeline, India must create conditions for return pathways: stronger research ecosystems, incentives for innovation, and industry-academia partnerships that can attract global Indian talent back home.

Despite the hurdles, the rise of Indian students in the U.S. shows a generation refusing to be constrained by systemic barriers. They are carving their place in the global academic arena with courage and clarity. The task before both nations now is to ensure that opportunity, not anxiety, shapes the future of student mobility.

• SAS Kirmani