H. M. Nazmul Alam

In the democratic circus of Bangladesh, we have a tradition: if your political leader doesn’t have an adjective longer than his career, he probably isn’t worth the banner you printed. “Rajpather Loraku Shoinik” (The Warrior of the Streets), “Bar Bar Nirjatito Neta” (Repeatedly Persecuted Leader), “Somoyer Sahoshi Sontan” (Brave Son of the Times)—these are but a few gems from our treasure trove of linguistic embellishment. As absurd as it may sound, there is a perverse pleasure in hearing someone with a questionable track record crowned as “The Beacon of Light” or “The Savior of the Oppressed.”

But hold on, let us take a detour to the mountainous terrain of Tajikistan, where President Emomali Rahmon had set new benchmarks in the art of verbal decoration. In Tajikistan, news anchors must practice a tongue-twisting mantra before mentioning their leader: "The Founder of Peace and National Unity, Leader of the Nation, President of the Republic of Tajikistan, His Excellency Emomali Rahmon." If you’re still standing after saying that in one breath, congratulations—you’re ready for a career in public relations.

Back home in Bangladesh, we haven’t officially adopted such lengthy eulogies, but we’re not far behind in spirit. It’s almost a cultural rite of passage for political figures to bask in grandiose titles. Whether these leaders have actually delivered on their promises is another story—one we rarely tell, for the adjectives have already consumed our ink.

And then, amid this cacophony of titles and theatrics, comes Tarique Rahman, Acting Chairman of the Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP). Recently, in a move that sent shockwaves through the political corridors, he requested his party members to stop using grandiose labels like Deshnayak (Leader of the Nation) and Rashtranayak (National Leader) before his name. He even went as far as to issue a strict ban on celebrating his birthday in an organized manner. No cake, no confetti, and, most importantly, no collections from activists in his name.

For a moment, it seemed like a glitch in the matrix. A Bangladeshi leader refusing adoration? No grandiose adjectives? No birthday extravaganza? How does one even process such radical modesty? Tarique Rahman’s message was loud and clear: leadership is about accountability, not adulation. By refusing to bask in these over-the-top labels, he not only broke a longstanding tradition of sycophancy but also set a new standard for political leadership in Bangladesh.

It’s not just about semantics. The refusal to use these titles signals a deeper cultural shift. For too long, political leaders in Bangladesh and other third-world countries have relied on theatrics to cover up their shortcomings. Leaders demand loyalty, not based on their work but on their “divine right” to lead, often supported by a concoction of historical anecdotes and poetic adjectives.

On the contrary, since 2018, Tarique Rahman’s leadership of the BNP has been marked by a commitment to accountability and discipline, with the party expelling members accused of corruption and misconduct—a rare stance in a political culture that often ignores such issues. Under his directives, the BNP has provided financial support to party members and activists who suffered political violence or state repression, demonstrating genuine care for the grassroots and boosting morale. Emphasizing political reform, Tarique Rahman has urged leaders to prioritize accountability through transparent governance and meaningful programs. His strategic leadership, evident in agenda-driven standing committee meetings and grassroots mobilization, contrasts sharply with the autocratic tendencies prevalent in many political circles. Most importantly, his decision to step away from unnecessary celebrations and titles signals a humility that is almost unheard of in our political landscape.

Meanwhile, in the broader political arena, the adjective epidemic continues to thrive. Across South Asia, leaders are glorified as if they’ve single-handedly ended poverty, cured cancer, and brought world peace—none of which is remotely true. In Bangladesh, we’ve had our fair share of “unparalleled visionaries” whose contributions barely match their self-proclaimed titles.

It’s not just a Bangladeshi problem. From Emomali Rahmon in Tajikistan to the late Nursultan Nazarbayev of Kazakhstan, the tendency to elevate leaders to near-divine status is endemic to third-world political cultures. This is often a ploy to distract from real issues: unemployment, corruption, lack of basic services.

Tarique Rahman’s approach is a lesson for political leaders not just in Bangladesh but globally. Leadership isn’t about how many banners carry your face or how many adjectives precede your name. It’s about actions that make a tangible difference in people’s lives.

The refusal to celebrate his birthday is more than just a symbolic gesture. It’s a rejection of the transactional politics that often surrounds such events. Many leaders use birthdays as an excuse to rally supporters, collect funds, and reinforce their cult of personality. By banning such practices, Tarique Rahman has drawn a line between genuine leadership and self-serving theatrics.

For the citizens of Bangladesh, this shift in tone offers a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, we can move beyond the era of meaningless slogans and focus on real governance. Adjectives won’t fix our potholes. They won’t reduce commodity prices or improve our education system. But leaders who prioritize accountability and humility might.

For the rest of the political class, the message is clear: the age of empty titles is over. The people of Bangladesh are tired of hearing grand promises without seeing any action. Leaders like Tarique Rahman are showing that humility and hard work can speak louder than the most eloquent of titles.

As Bangladesh navigates this period of political transition, it’s time for our leaders to take a page from Tarique Rahman’s playbook. Let’s retire the endless adjectives and focus on the actions that truly define leadership. The time for theatrics is over. The time for accountability has begun.

And for those still clinging to their Rajpather Loraku Shoinik banners, here’s a gentle reminder: the people of Bangladesh deserve more than your adjectives. They deserve leaders who deliver on their promises. Because, at the end of the day, no amount of eulogies will hide the cracks in a broken system.

The writer is an Academic, Journalist & Political Analyst.