The historic verdict delivered by International Crimes Tribunal-1 on Monday marks a watershed moment in Bangladesh’s pursuit of justice, accountability, and democratic renewal. By sentencing ousted Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina and former home minister Asaduzzaman Khan Kamal to death for crimes against humanity committed during the July Mass Uprising, the tribunal has sent a message more powerful than any political slogan: no office, no legacy, and no authority can place an individual above the law.
For months, the nation waited to see whether the machinery of justice—so often compromised in the past—would withstand political pressure and historic baggage. The tribunal’s 453-page judgment, delivered in a landmark live broadcast on state television, affirmed that the state is capable of confronting its darkest chapters with transparency and moral clarity.
The verdict rests on the doctrine of superior command responsibility, a principle deeply rooted in international jurisprudence. The tribunal established that Sheikh Hasina exercised full command over Asaduzzaman Khan Kamal and former IGP Chowdhury Abdullah Al-Mamun—and that the chain of command not only permitted but actively facilitated atrocities, from the killing of unarmed students in Chankharpul to the deployment of helicopters, drones, and lethal weapons against civilian protesters. The finding that these crimes were “systematic” underscores their premeditated nature.
That the tribunal differentiated sentences—awarding a lenient five-year term to the former IGP for full cooperation—shows an important maturity in Bangladesh’s justice system. Accountability does not always mean equal punishment; it means proportionate and principled justice.
The foreign ministry’s immediate call for India to extradite the two fugitives underscores another critical dimension: the regional and diplomatic implications of the verdict. By framing the extradition as a treaty-bound obligation, Bangladesh has placed the onus squarely on New Delhi to demonstrate its commitment to justice and mutual respect. India’s stated willingness to “engage constructively” will now be tested by action.
But beyond geopolitics and legal doctrine lies the human reality: the families who lost their children, the protesters who paid with their lives, and the citizens who witnessed the state turn its weapons against its own people. For them, justice delayed was nearly justice denied. Yet justice—though imperfect—has finally arrived.
This verdict cannot restore the lives lost in July 2025. It cannot erase the trauma or heal every wound. But it does something vital: it acknowledges the suffering, validates the truth, and restores the moral contract between the state and its citizens. It tells the martyrs’ families that their children’s blood did not disappear into the cracks of history.
More profoundly, it warns every future leader—here and anywhere in the world—that power is a temporary privilege, not a shield against accountability. The people remain the ultimate arbiters of legitimacy.
As Bangladesh stands at a crossroads, this judgment serves both as closure and as a beginning. It paves the path toward a political culture grounded not in fear but in responsibility, not in impunity but in justice.
