In the aftermath of mass movements, popular uprisings, the fall of authoritarian regimes, or prolonged conflict, pledges of competent governance, a corruption-free administration, and the construction of a just society have surfaced in almost every country across the world. A recurring pattern shows that, in such moments, leadership of state reconstruction is often assumed by Western-educated politicians and professionals. A large portion of them have worked in international institutions or emerged from foreign-linked networks. They speak of dismantling old power structures; reform commissions are formed; dialogues are held; reports and draft proposals are produced. Yet structural change rarely materialises. Within a few years, many states slide back into authoritarian systems. This repetition creates a sense of “déjà vu” in state reform. Here, “déjà vu” does not merely signify a feeling of familiarity. Rather, it denotes a cycle of failure in state reform — one in which promises and revolutionary rhetoric dominate the foreground, but the post-uprising “new state” fails to chart a new course. Instead, new faces are inserted into old systems, sometimes pushing the state towards even greater instability.

The clearest example of this déjà vu can be found in Tunisia. After the Jasmine Revolution, much of the country’s reconstruction was led by Western-educated politicians and professionals. Following the fall of Zine El Abidine Ben Ali, figures such as Moncef Marzouki, Mustapha Ben Jaafar, Hamadi Jebali, Mehdi Jomaa, and Elyes Fakhfakh — widely regarded as Western-oriented — took turns leading the country. They were all pro-Western. A new constitution was adopted in 2014, hailed by Western countries as a model for the Arab world. In practice, however, structural reforms failed to advance. Political paralysis deepened, the economy came under strain, debt increased, inflation and unemployment persisted, and the entrenched behaviour of the administrative and security apparatus remained unchanged. Within a few years of adopting the new constitution, Tunisia reverted to authoritarian rule. Similar patterns have emerged elsewhere. Following mass movements, civil wars, or prolonged political instability, there is often a tendency to bring Western-educated scholars, expatriate intellectuals, and successful professionals from international organisations into the centre of state reform and policymaking. With public trust in old political elites eroded, responsibility for reform is handed to them on the assumption that they are “neutral”, “competent”, and “modern”. Yet experience across many countries suggests that this model rarely delivers the desired transformation of the state.

Analysts see clear parallels between these global experiences and Bangladesh’s current reality. They argue that although expectations of state reform were raised after the 2024 mass uprising, reform initiatives over the past 18 months have turned into a familiar déjà vu — where talk of a new beginning masks the continued pursuit of old paths.

Following the US invasion of Iraq in 2003, the Baath Party–led government of Saddam Hussein collapsed, and a new governing structure was put in place. In the first phase, the Iraqi Governing Council was formed, with Ahmed Chalabi and, later, Iyad Allawi emerging as its most prominent faces. Chalabi had lived in exile in the United States for many years and was known for his close ties to Washington. He became an influential member — and later chairman — of the Governing Council. In 2004, Iyad Allawi, also closely aligned with Western powers, became interim prime minister. Their governments pursued a number of major policies, including “de-Baathification” to exclude Baath Party members from all sectors, the dissolution of the army, the introduction of market-oriented economic reforms, and a power-sharing arrangement based on ethnic and sectarian quotas (Shia, Sunni, and Kurdish). These policies, however, quickly pushed the state towards failure. The dismantling of the army and administration created millions of armed and unemployed individuals. Corruption became institutionalised, with a large share of energy-sector revenues divided among political parties and militias. Iraq became trapped in a cycle of prolonged conflict and weak governance.

Similar trajectories have been observed in countries such as Afghanistan, Libya, Sudan, Egypt, Ukraine, Yemen, and Algeria. In Afghanistan, following the fall of the Taliban, Western-educated technocrats under Hamid Karzai and Ashraf Ghani attempted to rebuild the state. In Libya, after the overthrow of Muammar Gaddafi, foreign-based, Western-educated elites such as Mahmoud Jibril and Abdurrahim El-Keib became the faces of the interim government. In Tunisia, the post-revolution constitution-making and state reform process was led by politicians who had lived in France or emerged from French-linked networks. In Sudan, Abdalla Hamdok — who had worked at the United Nations — was appointed prime minister after the fall of Omar al-Bashir. In Yemen, leaders who had lived in Saudi Arabia and the United Kingdom assumed power after the Arab Spring. In Algeria, the transition following the Hirak movement was overseen largely by France-linked administrative elites. Most of these efforts, however, ended in failure. In some cases, the state collapsed; in others, the military or old power structures reasserted themselves. Elsewhere, civil war deepened, or democratic reforms moved in reverse. According to international analysts, professionals shaped by foreign environments and higher education often fail to fully grasp local contexts and social tensions. Without political cohesion at home, reform initiatives do not endure. And when confronted with entrenched corruption networks and vested interests, they either stall or gradually become part of the very systems they sought to dismantle.

Analysts argue that one of the core reasons for these failures lies in the outlook of such foreign-linked professionals. Years spent abroad weaken their effective connection with domestic realities. Another major factor is the tendency to patronise their own groups and networks rather than pursuing genuinely universal reform. While foreign-linked elites employ the language of state reform, in practice, they prioritise familiar circles and select groups in decision-making and the distribution of opportunities. As a result, reform becomes an elite-driven project rather than an inclusive process. Local communities and diverse social groups fail to see themselves represented, eroding public trust and quickly exposing reforms to political opposition and social resistance.

In most cases, reform initiatives led by overseas-based leadership follow a predictable template. A series of meetings is held, reports are produced, a handful of projects are launched — and then the leaders withdraw. Dialogue takes place and drafts are prepared, but no long-term strategy is established. Reform becomes a collection of fragmented and isolated initiatives rather than a sustained, structural process of state reconstruction. In Sudan, Abdalla Hamdok’s reform agenda relied heavily on international assistance and policy advice, but it failed to take root due to the absence of a strong political base on the ground. In Yemen, the post–Arab Spring transition was similarly project-driven; despite dialogue and draft frameworks, no effective implementation structure emerged.

Another key factor is the distance between such Western-based leadership and the general population. Their social base is typically urban, educated, and embedded in administrative or international networks. Rural poor communities, unemployed youth, and those engaged in the informal economy — whose grievances largely fuel mass movements — remain excluded from decision-making processes. As a result, state reform fails to establish a meaningful connection with the public. A further cause of failure is the lack of cohesion. Foreign-linked elites rarely coalesce into a unified force; instead, they remain divided along party, ideological, and professional lines, preventing the formation of an organised reform bloc. Moreover, having worked in Europe or the United States — where rule adherence is stronger, judicial systems are relatively independent, and decisions are data-driven — they return home to formulate policies shaped by those experiences. In practice, however, they encounter systems riddled with corruption and political influence, which they are unable to dismantle. This gap renders their policies largely implementable, leaving reforms confined to paper rather than translating into tangible change.

Foreign-returned, Western-educated leaders tend to circulate within familiar circles — friends, NGOs, or colleagues from international organisations — preventing reform agendas from filtering down from the policy level to the grassroots. Reformers speak of an anti-corruption stance, yet in running the administration, they remain dependent on the same old structures. Gradually, they become part of that system themselves. In Iraq, expatriate leaders spoke out against corruption but became entangled in oil- and contract-driven politics. In Afghanistan, international aid itself turned into a source of corruption. In Tunisia, the old bureaucracy remained largely intact. As a result, instead of genuine state reform, new faces were installed within old structures, and promises of reform failed to translate into real change.

Many analysts see clear parallels between these global experiences and Bangladesh’s current reality. They argue that while expectations of state reform emerged after the mass uprising, no visible progress has been made on fundamental reforms, nor have structural changes occurred within the state machinery. About a month after assuming office, Chief Adviser Dr Muhammad Yunus travelled to New York in September 2024 to attend the 79th session of the UN General Assembly. In an interview with Voice of America, he said, “The students said we pushed the reset button; everything is gone; the past is definitely over. Now we’ll build in a new way. The people of the country want that too. To build in this new way, we need reforms.” On several occasions, he has reiterated that the July uprising was fundamentally about reform and that his government is committed to delivering it.

Analysts note, however, that the area most in need of reform — the administrative culture of the bureaucracy — has remained largely unchanged. No fundamental shift is visible in the country’s internal corruption landscape. Sectors that were accused of bribery, irregularities, and abuse of power during the tenure of the ousted prime minister, Sheikh Hasina, continue to display similar patterns today. Rather than dismantling corruption structures, the current situation appears to allow them to persist. According to stakeholders, from partisan practices and land grabbing to extortion and the misuse of political power and governance space, certain groups remain actively engaged in corruption.

In this context, Transparency International Bangladesh (TIB) Executive Director Dr Iftekharuzzaman recently told Bonik Barta, “After August 5, a major opportunity emerged to prevent corruption. But no visible government initiative was seen. Although corruption control and public administration reform are closely linked, no real progress has been made in practice. The comprehensive reform proposals put forward by the Public Administration Reform Commission included corruption prevention as a key component. While some isolated and limited issues from the commission’s recommendations were prioritised, fundamental and structural reforms weren’t implemented. Even proposals that could easily have been executed through ordinances or government decisions weren’t acted upon.”

Concerns are also mounting on the economic front. Although the interim government pledged austerity in state spending and caution in borrowing after assuming office, the reality appears to be the opposite. During the interim government’s tenure, borrowing from domestic and foreign sources is on track to reach nearly BDT 4 trillion. A large portion of this borrowing has been spent on recurrent expenditure. Salaries and allowances for government employees, along with interest payments on debt, now account for the bulk of government spending. Despite the growing debt burden, the government has failed to generate employment. Many industries and factories have shut down, and in the post-uprising period, employment has contracted rather than expanded. At the same time, credit growth in the private sector has fallen to a historic low. As of the end of December, private sector credit growth stood at just 6.10 percent, compared to more than 32 percent growth in government borrowing over the same period. The contraction of the private sector has led to a sharp decline in imports of capital machinery and industrial raw materials. In the 2024–25 fiscal year, imports of capital machinery fell by 25.42 percent. In the current fiscal year, imports of this key driver of private sector expansion have declined by more than 16 percent. Meanwhile, the country’s export growth has remained in negative territory for six consecutive months up to January of the current fiscal year.

There has been no indication of any improvement in the country’s investment climate. Over the past 16 months, foreign investment has shown little momentum. In the 2023–24 fiscal year, private sector investment as a share of GDP stood at 23.51 percent. In the following 2024–25 fiscal year, this declined to 22.48 percent. Imports of capital machinery in the last fiscal year amounted to $2.81 billion, down 19 percent year-on-year. New foreign investment in the outgoing 2024–25 fiscal year totalled just $550 million — the lowest in the past five years. The pace of expanding tax and revenue capacity has also failed to pick up, raising concerns among stakeholders that the growing debt burden is being accompanied by heightened future risks.

Metropolitan Chamber of Commerce and Industry (MCCI) President Kamran Tanvirur Rahman told Bonik Barta, “Not everyone has the experience to run a government. Choosing the right person for the right job is, to me, the most important thing. One can’t expect everyone to do everything. Overall leadership may rest with one individual, but the efficiency and competence of the team around that leader play a crucial role. Whichever party comes to power through elections in the future will face a host of challenges.”

During Sheikh Hasina’s long, authoritarian rule, regional disparities became pronounced. Under the interim government, expectations had emerged that discriminatory policies would be reversed and development allocations balanced. In practice, however, that has not happened. Instead, patterns of regional disparity in public spending have persisted even during the interim administration. Since assuming office, the interim government has approved 153 new projects with a total allocation of about BDT 2.12 trillion. Of this, Chattogram division alone received 42 percent. By contrast, poverty-stricken Rangpur received just 2.44 percent, while allocations for Rajshahi and Barishal fell to 1.38 percent and 0.86 percent, respectively. Observers note that development spending continues to be heavily concentrated in the same regions.

Associate Professor Dr Taufique Joarder of the National University of Singapore told Bonik Barta, “I don’t think it was right to place such high expectations of reform on the interim government. Reform wasn’t their primary responsibility. Nor did major contractual or policy decisions fall within their mandate. Instead of focusing on such initiatives, they should have prioritised holding elections earlier — that is, creating the minimum conditions required for an election and moving quickly to organise it. Everything else the government has done beyond that was largely superfluous and unnecessary.”

According to stakeholders, the interim government’s revolutionary rhetoric on reform has not been matched by its actual list of priorities. While claiming to place reform at the forefront, greater emphasis has, in practice, been given to state procurement, port management, and large infrastructure projects. Economist and member of the Democratic Rights Committee, Professor Anu Muhammad, told Bonik Barta, “There are some advisers and special assistants in the interim government who don’t live in Bangladesh. Many are foreign citizens; some may hold Bangladeshi citizenship. But they aren’t active as reformers. Rather, they appear more interested in concluding various agreements with the US and Western multinational companies. Their inclination towards large government procurement processes is also evident. What kind of reform is this? How does handing over ports to foreign companies qualify as reform?” He argued that such initiatives run counter to the aspirations of the mass uprising.

The economist further said, “The government could have initiated many reforms and changes if it wanted to, but it didn’t. There have been no substantive reforms in education or health. There is no visible change in the bureaucracy or the police system. Nor have there been effective measures to curb case-related corruption. Instead, mob violence has increased. If anything can be counted as an achievement, it is the inclusion of parts of the reform commission’s recommendations in the July Charter — and that alone.” In his view, the core aspiration of the mass uprising was to build a discrimination-free society, but the interim government has moved in the opposite direction.

However, Syeda Lasna Kabir, Chairperson of the Department of Public Administration at the University of Dhaka, believes it is too early to pass a definitive judgment on the interim government. She told Bonik Barta, “Many in this government have lived abroad for a long time. They have been successful in their respective professions — there is no doubt about that. But it would be wrong to assume that they would understand everything or be able to resolve all problems. For many, the biggest challenge is that they spent a long time outside the country and had comparatively limited direct engagement with local culture and realities. How far they’ve been able to internalise the country’s realities remains an open question. It wouldn’t be correct to say they’ve done nothing; nor would it be accurate to say they’ve already done a great deal.”