Sharia, secularism, and silence

Bangladesh faces the unsettling reality where children are increasingly subjected to sexual violence, abuse, and even brutal murder. It could have been dismissed as isolated criminal acts once but now has hardened into a recurring, systemic pattern. 

Every few weeks, public consciousness is shattered by news of a child assaulted inside a school or madrasa, violated by a neighbour, or murdered after horrific abuse. They represent a catastrophic failure of both state institutions and public morality.

When such tragedies occur, the nation routinely follows a predictable, futile script. Initial horror rapidly morphs into fierce public outrage, followed by demands for public hangings, the immediate implementation of religious law, or other dramatic displays of state authority. Almost instantly, the dialogue shifts away from the immediate safety of vulnerable children toward a well-worn culture war between religious hardliners and secularists. In this partisan crossfire, the victim is entirely erased from the conversation.

Focusing on severe punishment is understandable, but heavy sentences mean very little when the apparatus of justice is fundamentally broken. If law enforcement fails to gather reliable evidence, if medical examinations are routinely mishandled, if witnesses face unaddressed intimidation, and if trials drag on for years, the legal code becomes irrelevant. A maximum penalty that exists primarily in political speeches provides zero deterrence to an offender.

The core flaw in the national debate is its obsession with post-assault retribution. Virtually no attention is directed at the institutional preventative measures that should have been active before the abuse took place. Child sexual abuse rarely occurs in a vacuum. It is typically preceded by grooming, coercion, boundary-testing, and emotional manipulation. Warning signs are often noticed by adults who choose silence, while institutions frequently suppress complaints to shield their own reputations. By the time a case reaches the criminal justice system, multiple operational opportunities to safeguard the child have already been missed.

International comparisons highlight the inadequacy of relying solely on criminal law. India’s landmark legislation created specialized child-focused offences and fast-track courts. Yet, despite establishing hundreds of dedicated tribunals, hundreds of thousands of cases remain stalled in a massive judicial backlog. Specialized courts cannot overcome bad investigations, personnel shortages, or weak forensic capacity. Conversely, system models like England’s treat safeguarding as an ongoing, shared responsibility across education, healthcare, social services, and law enforcement. Recent legal shifts there have even established explicit duties to report suspected abuse, targeting the institutional self-preservation that so often enables perpetrators.

Bangladesh cannot simply copy foreign models, but it must adopt the fundamental principle that protection begins long before prosecution. Every educational institution, residential facility, orphanage, coaching centre, and sports club must be legally required to enforce comprehensive safeguarding policies. This includes appointing trained protection officers, implementing secure reporting mechanisms, maintaining stringent behavioral codes, and conducting thorough background checks on all staff.

Furthermore, mandatory reporting duties should apply to teachers, religious instructors, and caregivers who encounter reasonable suspicion of abuse. Such measures must be enforced universally. Religious institutions must not be singled out out of bias, nor should elite secular schools escape scrutiny due to social prestige. Any entity exercising authority over children assumes a strict duty of care that supersedes social sensitivity or institutional embarrassment.

Equally vital is the creation of specialized child-abuse response units within regional police forces. Investigating these complex crimes requires dedicated training in child interviewing techniques, evidence preservation, and trauma-informed support. Forcing a victim to repeatedly recount their trauma to untrained officials is an institutional failure in itself. Standardized, professional forensic examinations must be made accessible immediately, supported by dedicated prosecutors and comprehensive psychological support for affected families.

Systemic accountability must also extend to institutional oversight. Serious failures should trigger mandatory, independent reviews to examine whether early warning signs were ignored and what structural changes are required. The objective is not merely assigning individual blame, but preventing repetitive organizational failures.

It is within this operational context that the endless clash between sharia and secularism reveals itself as a complete distraction. Legal traditions, whether rooted in religious jurisprudence or common law, cannot function on rhetoric alone. Islamic legal history itself contains sophisticated frameworks regarding evidence, judicial responsibility, and public welfare, but invoking religious tenets is no substitute for forensic rigor, professional policing, and efficient courts. Dismissing all religious tradition as backward is equally unhelpful in building functional policy.

The state does not lack emotional speeches; it suffers from weak implementation, fragmented responsibility, and a political apparatus that favors temporary outrage over painstaking structural reform. Public anger flares briefly with each headline, only to dissipate when attention shifts, leaving victims to navigate an intimidating system alone.

The true measure of a civilized state lies not in how fiercely it promises retribution after a child’s life is shattered, but in how reliably it prevents harm, acts on early warnings, and protects the vulnerable. Bangladesh’s children do not need more political slogans; they require institutions capable of safeguarding them before the next tragedy strikes.

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The writer is a political analyst. He can be reached at  mwtanvir@gmail.com