Singer and activist Anusheh Anadil goes beyond melody to confront the complex socio-political-cultural landscape of Bangladesh, particularly after July Uprising. In her powerful reflection “Chessboard of Shadows,” she unpacks the July 5 revolution—not just as a student uprising against corruption, but as a moment entangled in global power struggles, identity crises, and the failures of both left and right. With lyrical clarity and moral urgency, Anusheh searches for a path forward rooted in dignity, pluralism, and the quiet courage of a generation refusing to be mere pieces in someone else’s game.
Chessboard of Shadows
Anusheh Anadil
The 5 July revolution in Bangladesh cannot be understood in isolation—it was both a genuine uprising by students against corruption and a moment entangled in the wider web of global politics. While some argue that Islamic parties played a role, the truth is layered, with multiple forces at play. At the same time, the broader stage is defined by the ongoing US–China confrontation and the growing influence of BRICS as it seeks to reshape the world economy. In this maze of national and international power struggles, the essential task is awareness—recognising the hidden hands, the shifting alliances, and asking where we, as part of the Global South, truly stand. For if the South is to rise, it must do so with clarity, refusing to be reduced to a pawn in someone else’s game.
While it is undeniable that Sheikh Hasina’s regime was deeply corrupt and systematically drained Bangladesh of its resources, it is equally true that her alignment with both China and India helped shield her from significant criticism—particularly from sections of the left that remained largely silent during her rule. Today, however, the situation demands a clearer perspective. We must recognise the unmistakable influence of the United States, whose interventions have often left countries more extreme and destabilised—Afghanistan, Iraq, and much of the Middle East stand as stark examples. If we fail to understand the broader currents of global politics, Bangladesh risks becoming yet another battleground in the ongoing power struggle between China and the US.
We stand today at the edge of a profound global shift, where politics across much of the world is leaning more decisively towards the right. To understand why, we must look closely at the failures of the left. Once associated with justice and the rights of the marginalised, much of the left has grown increasingly capitalistic and corporate-driven, with politicians heavily funded by the wealthy and tied to corporate interests. As a result, their agenda has become detached from the realities and struggles of ordinary people.
In moments of uncertainty and despair, the majority of the public—who remain deeply religious—turn to faith and seek refuge in God. This spiritual yearning has been a major force in pulling societies towards right-wing politics, which often speaks more directly to this desire for meaning.
But beyond the labels of “left” and “right,” what humanity is truly searching for is justice, dignity, and an end to the widening gap between rich and poor. People long for leaders who see the world not as a marketplace where everything—including human beings—can be commodified, but through a lens of compassion, fairness, and care for the Earth itself.
What is needed now are leaders who genuinely serve the people, uphold the dignity of the vulnerable, and safeguard the environment—leaders who can restore trust, provide meaning, and chart a path away from exploitation towards a more humane and balanced future.
Bangladesh is a young nation, born in 1971. In the decades since, one of our greatest struggles has been the question of identity. Every political power that has come into office has tried to impose a definition, but none has succeeded in offering a vision broad enough to hold us all. Instead, we have been trapped in a binary: are we first Bengali, or are we first Muslim? The inability to reconcile these two dimensions has left us polarised and fractured.
The truth is, identity cannot be reduced to a single marker. A nation is not one culture but many. Bangladesh is a mosaic of languages, faiths, and traditions, yet instead of embracing this multiplicity, our politics has narrowed itself to extremes—on one side, the rigidly religious; on the other, an exaggerated cultural nationalism. Between these two poles, there is little room for a shared middle ground.
If we are to heal these divisions, we must learn to see ourselves not as one thing or the other, but as many things at once. To embrace our diversity as a strength is the only path towards a truly inclusive national identity. Only then will we begin to understand what it means to be not just Bengali or Muslim, but Bangladeshi.
In this era, we find ourselves standing upon a chessboard of shadows, where outside forces and foreign narratives attempt to define who we are. Yet the younger generation refuses to be reduced to pieces in another’s game. Instead of being polarised—forced to choose between left and right, tradition and modernity, nationalism and globalism—they are claiming a centrist ground. They call themselves centrists not out of passivity, but out of conviction: a belief that harmony must replace hostility, that balance must be chosen over blind allegiance. What they seek is not a hollow slogan of identity or a fractured patriotism, but the simple foundations of human dignity: a land where people can live in peace. For ours is not a nation bound by one version of Islam, nor a single culture, but by the many—woven together into a shared home. The task before us is not to erase these differences, nor to weaponise them, but to learn how to live with them, side by side. That is the vision of this generation: not division, but coexistence; not shadows, but light.
Anusheh Anadil: Singer and Social Activist