An illustration depicting Indigenous communities of the Chittagong Hill Tracts in the context of Bangladesh’s national history.
Today, Bangladesh marks its 54th Victory Day. It is a day that commemorates a historic triumph, the defeat of colonial domination and the birth of a sovereign state in 1971. It is rightly observed with pride, remembrance, and respect for sacrifice.
Yet, from the perspective of the Indigenous peoples of the Chittagong Hill Tracts (CHT), Victory Day also exposes an unresolved contradiction at the heart of the Bangladeshi state: independence was achieved, but not equally shared.
This editorial analysis argues that while Bangladesh emerged as a free nation in 1971, the Indigenous peoples of the CHT have continued to live under governance without consent. Their political autonomy has been denied, their lands systematically dispossessed, and their identity too often treated as a problem rather than a foundation of the state.
This is not a claim of separatism, nor a rejection of Bangladesh’s independence. It is an argument that independence, as experienced by the Chittagong Hill Tracts, remains incomplete.
To understand why, the story must begin not in 1971, but in 1947.
At the time of the Partition of British India, the Chittagong Hill Tracts were overwhelmingly Indigenous, with over 98 percent of the population being non-Muslim, and were administratively distinct as an Excluded Area under British rule. The people of the hills practiced customary land ownership, traditional governance, and cultural systems fundamentally different from those of the plains of Bengal.
Yet, despite geography, demography, and repeated objections from Indigenous leaders, including the Chakma Raja, the CHT was awarded to Pakistan by the Radcliffe Commission. No referendum was held. No Indigenous consent was sought. The territory was transferred as a strategic calculation, not as a homeland inhabited by peoples with political agency.
This moment set a pattern that continues today: decisions about the Chittagong Hill Tracts made without the Chittagong Hill Tracts.
Under Pakistani rule, the region functioned as an internal colony, valued for its resources but largely irrelevant when it came to rights. The most devastating expression of this reality was the construction of the Kaptai Hydroelectric Dam in the 1960s.
Built in the name of national development, the dam submerged vast areas of Indigenous land and displaced more than 100,000 people, primarily Chakmas. Villages disappeared under water. Compensation was inadequate, rehabilitation largely absent, and thousands were forced to flee to India, where they are still counted as refugees. The lesson was unmistakable: state-defined progress would proceed regardless of Indigenous survival.
The liberation of Bangladesh in 1971 raised expectations that such historical injustices would finally be addressed. Instead, the new state reproduced many of the same structures of exclusion.
The 1972 Constitution defined the nation through Bengali nationalism, leaving no room for Indigenous political identity. Indigenous peoples were labeled “tribal,” a term that stripped them of historical nationhood and denied their claim to self-determination. Proposals for regional autonomy and recognition of customary land rights were rejected.
For the Chittagong Hill Tracts, 1971 represented a change in rulers, not a transformation in how power was exercised.
From the mid-1970s onward, the region became one of the most militarized areas in the country. Armed conflict emerged not as an ideological project, but as a response to political exclusion and land dispossession.
This period saw widespread human rights violations, forced relocations, village burnings, arbitrary detention, and sexual violence. Entire communities were displaced, and the social fabric of the hills was profoundly damaged. To describe this era without acknowledging its causes is to mistake resistance for rebellion and repression for stability.
Alongside militarization came state-sponsored Bengali settlement. Indigenous lands were redistributed, customary ownership was ignored, and over time, Indigenous peoples were reduced to minorities in their own ancestral territories.
This was not an accidental outcome. It was a policy choice that redefined sovereignty as demographic dominance. Independence without land security is not independence; it is displacement under a national flag.
Finally, the 1997 Chittagong Hill Tracts Accord formally ended armed conflict and promised autonomy, land restitution, and demilitarization. Internationally, it was celebrated as a success.
More than two decades later, its core commitments remain largely unfulfilled. The Land Commission is ineffective, military presence continues, Indigenous institutions lack real authority, and political fragmentation has replaced dialogue. The Accord achieved silence, not justice.
In the post-Accord era, the CHT has entered what can only be described as managed quiet. Development projects proceed, consultation remains minimal, protest is criminalized, and media coverage remains sporadic. The language of rights has been replaced by the language of “development.” Yet development that ignores consent only reproduces the injustices it claims to solve.
Victory Day invites celebration, but it must also invite honesty. A state that governs Indigenous peoples without recognizing their political agency cannot claim to have completed its liberation project.
This editorial position is clear: acknowledging Indigenous autonomy within Bangladesh is not a threat to sovereignty; it is its fulfillment.
Completing Bangladesh’s independence requires more than symbolic inclusion. It requires recognition of Indigenous identity, restoration of land rights, meaningful self-governance, demilitarization, and an end to demographic engineering. These are not concessions. They are obligations rooted in justice.
Bangladesh’s independence is real and was earned through immense sacrifice. But for the Indigenous peoples of the Chittagong Hill Tracts, it remains unfinished.
Victory Day should not only honor the past; it should also confront what remains undone. Until freedom is shared by all peoples within the state, independence will remain partial, and victory incomplete.
