Conspiracy theories alleging The Unfinished Memoirs was ghostwritten by 123 officials are baseless, confusing it with a separate archival project. Bongobondhu's 1967-69 jail notebooks, verified by facsimiles and corroborated by media, confirm his authorship. These claims lack evidence and aim to undermine a vital historical text chronicling Bengal's fight against oppression. Mujib's legacy remains authentic and unassailable.

Claims that Sheikh Mujibur Rahman’s The Unfinished Memoirs was ghostwritten by 123 officials are baseless. The text is rooted in Mujib’s 1967–69 jail notebooks, preserved in facsimile, corroborated by contemporaneous media, and consistent with his nationalist politics. The conspiracy confuses Mujib’s autobiography with an entirely different archival project. Such disinformation is not an innocent mistake—it is a calculated attempt to weaken Bengal’s memory of its liberation struggle. Did Sheikh Mujibur Rahman really need 123 ghostwriters to tell the story of his childhood, his activism, and his dream of a free Bengal? The very idea borders on the absurd. Yet in the turbulent wake of Bangladesh’s recent political upheavals, a wave of conspiracy theories has emerged claiming that The Unfinished Memoirs—a cornerstone of Bengali nationalist history—was fabricated by former IGP Mohammad Javed Patwary and a team of officials. These claims, amplified by sensationalist media and echo chambers online, are not harmless speculation. They are disinformation designed to erode the foundations of

Bongobondhu’s legacy. As someone committed to historical truth, I argue that these accusations crumble under scrutiny. They rest on a deliberate conflation of two entirely separate bodies of work, lack any substantive evidence, and collapse in the face of overwhelming documentary, textual, and historical proof that the memoirs are indeed Mujib’s own words. The Source of the Rumors The allegations originated from documents allegedly uncovered by Bangladesh’s Special Branch of police in August 2025, suggesting Patwary and his team were rewarded with cash and apartments for ghostwriting Mujib’s autobiography. A legal notice has even demanded an official probe into whether Mujib wrote the text at all. But this narrative unravels upon closer inspection. The supposed “evidence” confuses The Unfinished Memoirs with a very different project: the 14-volume Secret Documents of the Intelligence Branch on Sheikh Mujibur Rahman. That series—published under Sheikh Hasina’s oversight—compiles 48,000 pages of declassified Pakistani intelligence files. Patwary and his officers played a technical role: scanning, transcribing,…

The OHCHR MoU and the US NDA aren’t isolated events—they’re interlocking tools in a new strategy to turn Bangladesh into a geopolitical corridor. Under the guise of rights and trade, they erode sovereignty, silence resistance, and open the floodgates to foreign control. This isn’t partnership. It’s prelude to possession—with a handshake, not a hammer.

Introduction: Sovereignty by Stealth In July 2025, two international agreements quietly positioned themselves at the heart of Bangladesh’s geopolitical destiny. One was a Memorandum of Understanding (MoU) signed between Bangladesh and the United Nations Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR), granting the UN body a permanent presence in Dhaka. The other was a leaked draft of a proposed Non-Disclosure Agreement (NDA) between Bangladesh and the United States, setting the terms for deepened bilateral cooperation—on Washington’s terms. Individually, these instruments might seem routine. Together, they chart the contours of a new and dangerous architecture: Bangladesh as a "corridor nation"—a strategic conduit for Western security and economic interests, locked in from within by humanitarian oversight and from without by asymmetrical trade and security arrangements. This is a story not of occupation by force, but by framework. I. The OHCHR MoU: Human Rights or Hegemony? At first glance, the OHCHR’s new Dhaka office appears to be a benign institutional step—an

extension of international support for Bangladesh’s human rights obligations. Yet this MoU arrives in the aftermath of a political transition shaped by foreign pressure and domestic unrest. Its timing is more than symbolic; it is strategic. The OHCHR’s February 2025 report on protest-related violence conspicuously sidestepped key facts, including attacks on law enforcement and public property. Notably absent were the deaths of police officers and the documented instigation of violence by opposition-aligned groups. By legitimizing a one-sided narrative, the OHCHR's presence becomes more than observational—it becomes constitutive. It reframes political violence as civilian resistance and erases the culpability of coordinated agitators. What’s more troubling is the legal immunity granted under the MoU. UN officials enjoy broad protections under international conventions, often beyond the reach of local judicial oversight. In effect, the OHCHR becomes an untouchable actor within Bangladesh's borders, with privileged access to state institutions, data, and civil society—and no local accountability. While the MoU’s full text has not been…

Al Jazeera’s “36 Days in July” is not journalism—it is a selectively sourced, politically motivated character assassination. By platforming figures tied to extremist groups and omitting critical legal and historical context, it weaponizes leaked audio to vilify Sheikh Hasina and legitimize a coup born of coordinated violence.

1: The Spectacle Disguised as Journalism Al Jazeera’s “HASINA – 36 Days in July” is marketed as an investigative documentary. In truth, it functions as a media indictment. From framing to narration, from sourcing to visual mood-setting, the entire feature seems less interested in investigating the truth than in delivering a preordained verdict: Sheikh Hasina is guilty. Al Jazeera and the BBC, in their respective pieces, center their accusations on a short leaked audio clip — barely 80 seconds long — which they treat as a smoking gun. For the sake of brevity, this article will only focus on Al Jazeera Documentary. This audio captures a voice that has allegedly been attributed to the former Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina, issuing directives in the midst of a violent uprising. The audio, at the time of publishing, is neither forensically authenticated nor interpreted with journalistic caution. Worse, its use is framed within a montage of insinuations, selective voices, and emotionally charged imagery,

producing what can only be described as trial-by-media. Yet the words themselves offer no blanket order for violence, let alone student killings. The central "evidence" of this so-called investigation — the short leaked audio clip — that this documentary and the BBC feature appeared within days of each other, using the same core audio material and overlapping narrative structure, raises serious questions about coordination — if not lobbying. It is not implausible to suspect that this is not independent journalism but a synchronized narrative push, especially considering the actors it platformed and the timing with an ongoing legal trial. 2: The So-Called Smoking Gun – A Short Audio, A Long Stretch In the audio materials, the individual in question can be heard stating: “I have told them — if necessary, shoot… Students’ lives must be saved… But if anyone creates terror, if there’s no other way — you must act.” The voice in the audio reveals a response to a…

This paper critically examines the leaked draft of the U.S.–Bangladesh Reciprocal Trade Agreement, revealing it to be a deeply asymmetrical arrangement that compromises Bangladesh’s regulatory sovereignty, economic autonomy, and geopolitical independence. Under the guise of market access and tariff relief, the agreement imposes sweeping U.S. oversight across digital governance, labor law, defense procurement, environmental regulation, and data control. Rather than fostering mutual benefit, the proposed terms reflect a strategic restructuring of Bangladesh’s legal and economic infrastructure to serve U.S. commercial and strategic interests. The analysis situates this deal within the broader context of post-colonial dependency and calls for urgent public scrutiny, renegotiation, and activist resistance.

1. Introduction In July 2025, a confidential draft of the so-called U.S.-Bangladesh Agreement on Reciprocal Trade was leaked. At first glance, it appeared to be a bilateral deal to facilitate trade flows between the two countries. However, on closer inspection, the document revealed something far more consequential: a complex and far-reaching framework that, if ratified, would embed U.S. influence deep into Bangladesh’s economic, legal, and digital infrastructures. Drafted amid political instability and under an unelected interim government, this agreement must be understood not merely as a trade pact, but as a coercive tool of structural realignment: one that reorients Bangladesh’s legal, economic, and geopolitical frameworks to align with U.S. priorities, without public consultation or democratic mandate. This paper offers a critical examination of the agreement, exploring its key provisions, underlying logic, and broader implications. It further contextualizes the agreement within a lineage of similarly coercive international arrangements and concludes with strategic recommendations for activists, policymakers, and civil society actors committed

to protecting Bangladesh’s sovereignty. 1.1 Security Classification • Marked CONFIDENTIAL, with “Modified Handling Authorized.” • Declassification set for 4 years after enforcement/negotiation closure. • Suggests it is either a draft or pre-ratification version. • Legal effect is not yet public—yet expectations and timelines for Bangladeshi compliance are clear and immediate. 2. Critical Analysis of the Agreement The agreement, sprawling across 21 pages, is organized into six major sections: taxation, non-tariff barriers, digital trade and technology, rules of origin, commercial and national security terms, and investment and services. While billed as reciprocal, the obligations it places on Bangladesh far outweigh those asked of the United States. 2.1 Tariff & Non-Tariff Barriers One of the most striking aspects of the draft agreement lies in its treatment of tariff and non-tariff barriers. Bangladesh is effectively being asked to lower customs duties specifically on U.S. goods, potentially undermining the country’s ability to protect its local industries through strategic tariffs. Even more troubling, however, is…

In Mahfuz Alam’s hands, the word “mob” becomes a political mirror — reflecting only those struggles that threaten the new order. From Shahbagh to the People’s Courts, he retrofits secular justice movements into spectacles of irrational rage, while carefully omitting the rise of Islamist forces now embedded in power. His rhetoric isn’t argument — it’s choreography, built from contradictions and cloaked in abstraction. But the real danger isn’t what he says — it’s what he replaces: memory with manipulation, ethics with performance, revolution with revision. When Mahfuz speaks of Karbala, he isn't invoking resistance — he's rehearsing a morality play for a regime in need of a conscience.

“Mob means an opportunistic group that nurtures vengeful, directionless, revolutionary pretensions.” — Mahfuz Alam, Special Adviser to the Chief Adviser Let us begin with Mahfuz Alam’s own postscript — a sentence that reads like it’s been pulled from a thesaurus and passed off as philosophy. It is intended, one assumes, as a capstone to his moral framing of Bangladesh’s so-called “July revolution.” But this single line — vague, self-congratulatory, and strategically abstract — is far more revealing than its author might have intended. It does not define the mob; it betrays the mob of meaning. In Alam’s universe, a mob is not defined by who they are or what they do — but by who they threaten. And so begins the rhetorical sleight-of-hand: a redefinition of history, morality, and memory, with the aim of shielding the Interim Government’s foundational moment from scrutiny. But in trying to separate July’s student uprising from mobocracy, Mahfuz performs a quiet substitution: he lifts the

moral crimes of the present and lays them upon the past. The Mob Is Always the Other Who does Mahfuz include in his invented taxonomy of mobs? It’s instructive: • The 1971 violence against Biharis. • The early repression of anti-Mujib student voices. • Fifty-three years of attacks on religious minorities — but with no attribution. • The People’s Courts. • The ‘96 People’s Stage. • October 28 • Shahbagh. This is not analysis. It is a political Rorschach test — what shows up as “mob” in Mahfuz’s inkblot are the struggles that confront the forces he is now aligned with. Especially chilling is his treatment of Shahbagh — the spontaneous secular uprising that demanded justice for war criminals. In Mahfuz’s telling, it becomes “mob justice,” no different from communal riots. A movement rooted in the memory of the 1971 genocide is flattened into a faceless frenzy, and those who chanted for accountability are smeared as enemies of law and…

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