[🇧🇩] July uprising

[Saif]

Three categories of injured persons

The website of the Ministry of Health lists 13,811 people as injured. Officials from the ministry said that applicants had to submit proof of receiving treatment at a hospital or clinic along with other documents in order to be listed as injured.

Meanwhile, the ‘July Uprising Martyrs' Families and July Fighters’ Welfare and Rehabilitation Ordinance, 2025’ from the Ministry of Law, Justice, and Parliamentary Affairs states that a total of 12,887 people were injured across the country. The highest number of injuries occurred in Dhaka Division—3,098 people. Next is Chattogram Division with 1,927 injured. Rangpur and Khulna divisions recorded 1,315 and 1,195 injured respectively. The remaining three divisions—Barisal, Sylhet, and Mymensingh—reported 772, 708, and 534 injured respectively.

The ordinance categorises injured persons into three categories: critically injured, severely injured, and injured. Those considered critically injured include individuals who have lost an eye, a hand, or a leg and can no longer live independently, those who are fully blind, mentally impaired, have lost limbs, or are permanently disabled for earning a livelihood. The number of critically injured persons is 493.

Those who are partially blind, suffered severe brain injuries, or similar traumas are categorised as severely injured. Their number stands at 908. People who have lost vision or hearing, been shot, or sustained similar injuries during the July uprising and received hospital treatment are categorised as injured. Their number is 10,642.

Most of the injuries were caused by various types of gunfire. These include lethal bullets, shotgun pellets, and rubber bullets. Some were injured by batons, sticks, rods, or bricks. Others were burned in fires.

The National Institute of Traumatology and Orthopaedic Rehabilitation (NITOR or Pangu Hospital) has treated 902 injured people, including 608 people injured by gunfire. The remaining 294 were injured in other ways.

According to data from the Ministry of Health, four people had to have one arm amputated, and twenty had one leg amputated. Additionally, several hundred people suffered severe injuries to the spine, head, or other parts of the body.

According to the gazette, 844 people were killed during the July Uprising. In July and August of last year, police, RAB, and BGB used lethal weapons to suppress the student and public movement, a fact also noted in a report by the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights. In addition to law enforcement, members of various affiliate and fraternal organisations of the now-banned Awami League were also seen firing weapons in the capital and other parts of the country.

Injured people still at hospitals

There is confusion over how many injured people are still admitted in hospitals. According to the latest report of the Ministry of Health released on Thursday, 17 July, 338 patients are currently hospitalised across Dhaka and other districts. However, it has been learned after making phone calls to several hospitals that the data provided by the ministry is not accurate.

For example, while the ministry reported that 116 patients were admitted at the National Institute of Opthalmology and Hospital (NIOH), its director Professor Khair Ahmed Choudhury told Prothom Alo on Thursday that no patients injured in the July uprising were currently admitted.

The ministry also reported that 121 people were admitted at Pangu Hospital. However, on Thursday, hospital authorities said only 10 people were admitted.

The ministry reported 16 people admitted at Bangladesh Medical University. However, the university’s public relations office said on Thursday that 32 injured were currently admitted.

Besides, Prothom Alo learned that several patients are still admitted at CMH, the Burn Institute, and Dhaka Medical College Hospital. In the latest briefing held by Army Headquarters on 3 July, it was stated that 4,790 injured persons had received treatment at various Combine Military Hospitals (CMHs) across the country. On that day (3 July), 22 people were still receiving treatment at CMH, Dhaka.

Foreign physicians and treatment

Due to the complexity of the situation, the government has sent several injured people abroad for better medical treatment. However, there are allegations that in some cases there were delays in sending patients overseas.

According to the Ministry of Health, 75 people have so far been sent abroad for better treatment. Among them, 11 were sent to Singapore, 56 to Thailand, 7 to Turkey, and 1 to Russia. Of these, 29 have returned to the country after treatment. Currently, 39 people are still in Thailand and 7 in Turkey for on-going treatment.

Sources from the Health Ministry said that Tk 785.23 million has been spent so far on treatment abroad. The government has also fully covered the medical expenses for those treated in hospitals within the country.

The ministry also noted that five patients are currently awaiting visas, and the government orders (GOs) for 20 others are in process. Several more are expected to be sent abroad for treatment. Passport preparations are underway for them, and on Monday, passport office officials visited Pangu Hospital to assist with the process.

Alongside sending patients abroad, the government has also brought in specialist doctors from various countries to assist in treatment. Medical teams from China, Nepal, the UK, the US, France, and Singapore have visited Bangladesh. These foreign doctors provided treatment mainly at Dhaka Medical College Hospital, Pangu Hospital, the National Institute of Ophthalmology, and CMH, and offered consultation to local physicians.

Discontent over treatment, road blocked

Despite these efforts, many injured individuals expressed dissatisfaction with their treatment. Over the past year, they have staged multiple protests and road blockades, demonstrated several times in front of the chief advisor’s residence, Jamuna, and organised sit-ins and gatherings in front of the Secretariat. They also tried to block the health adviser’s car, and held road blockades in Shahbagh and Agargaon. There were also incidents of vandalism at the office of the director of the National Institute of Ophthalmology.

A large number of the injured are young. Many of those who were severely injured are now physically disabled. Some have lost their means of livelihood. A number of them are under psychological stress, with many feeling depressed or traumatised. Several doctors noted that mental health care services are insufficient compared to the level of need.

Syed Abdul Hamid, professor of the Institute of Health Economics at Dhaka University, is researching the socio-economic situation and rehabilitation of the injured from the July Uprising. He told Prothom Alo, “I have noticed three major gaps regarding the injured. We have not seen effective or visible initiatives to care for their mental health. Many need physiotherapy but are not receiving it. And the government has yet to ensure any sustainable income opportunities for them. That is why many are feeling frustrated. Such despair was never desirable after such a major national change.”​

 

[Saif]

Looking at the July uprising through Actor-Network Theory

The July uprising was a networked event, a convergence of actors both familiar and unexpected.

www.thedailystar.net

Looking at the July uprising through Actor-Network Theory

Seen through ANT, the July uprising was a networked event, a convergence of actors both familiar and unexpected. The photo was taken at Central Shaheed Minar in Dhaka on August 2, 2024. FILE PHOTO: PALASH KHAN

"Action is not done under the full control of consciousness; action should rather be felt as a node, a knot, and a conglomerate of many surprising sets of agencies that have to be slowly disentangled."— Bruno Latour (2005).

When protests swept across Bangladesh in July-August 2024, culminating in the collapse of the Sheikh Hasina regime, the dominant narratives pointed to rising food prices, suppression of electoral rights, and widespread public dissatisfaction. But to understand the complexity and temporality of the July uprising, we need a conceptual apparatus that doesn't reduce cause and effect to binaries of state vs people or elite vs masses. The Actor-Network Theory (ANT), developed by thinkers like Bruno Latour, Michel Callon, and John Law, offers just such a lens.

ANT shifts the analytical gaze away from centralised actors and towards heterogeneous assemblages of human and non-human agents, each contributing agency through a web of interactions. It is not people alone who make revolutions; rather, power is distributed, negotiated, and performed through constellations of bodies, technologies, infrastructures, discourses, and materialities. By tracing how these actors align, disalign, and realign over time, ANT allows us to reassemble the political landscape not as a stable structure, but as a networked effect, always at risk of coming undone.

A revolution of actants

What emerged in July-August 2024 was a perfect storm—not in the metaphorical sense of a rare confluence of disasters but, in ANT's terms, a dense network of actors aligning across domains of affect, infrastructure, economy, and narrative.

Latour's insistence that action should be felt not as a conscious decision but as a "node, a knot, and a conglomerate of many surprising sets of agencies" is particularly useful here. The July uprising was not just the sum of autonomous decisions; it was the effect of entangled agencies acting in concert and contradiction. Streets became stages where crowds moved with semi-intentional choreography, guided by calls from loudspeakers, updates from X feeds, or the sudden dispersal caused by a water cannon. The logic of revolt emerged not from centralised strategy but from the recursive entanglement of all these actors, human and non-human.

Seen through ANT, the July uprising was a networked event, a convergence of actors both familiar and unexpected. University students were joined by school-goers, informal sector labourers, disenfranchised voters, and retired bureaucrats, among many others. But no less significant were skyrocketing rice prices, delayed electricity bills, tear gas canisters, Facebook livestreams, and leaked videos of police brutality. These were not mere backdrops to human agency but active participants in shaping public perception, coordination, and rage. ANT's refusal to grant ontological privilege to humans alone foregrounds how non-humans like hashtags (#DownWithHasina), barricades, and even monsoon downpours shaped the rhythms of revolt. A protester's banner reading "Give me rice or give me justice" was not only a slogan but a node in a wider network of affective mobilisation.

Even the topography of the protests took on meaning through ANT's framework. The occupation of intersections and symbolic siege of ministry buildings all functioned as non-verbal scripts performed by crowds and urban architecture alike. Roads became political actors—so did curfews and roadblocks. These spatial and material conditions produced feedback loops in which visibility, vulnerability, and solidarity were reconfigured in real time.

Translating discontent

Central to ANT is the notion of "translation"—how actors enrol others into a network, often redefining roles in the process. The uprising did not spring from ideological coherence but from the strategic translation of disparate grievances. Some political parties, left-leaning student alliances, religious groups, and civil society organisations constructed temporary alignments around slogans that floated free of fixed referents.

"Down with Hasina" became a capacious signifier, suturing together demands for electoral reform, food security, dignity in labour, and democratic governance. The interim government that emerged post-uprising was itself not a fixed solution, but a provisional actor within this new network, one that could stabilise or unravel depending on how actants continued to assemble.

The translation was not without friction. Competing visions of post-uprising Bangladesh jostled for primacy. Some sought immediate elections; others wanted a truth and reconciliation commission. Still others demanded reparative justice for the dead and disappeared. ANT reminds us that these differences do not weaken the network but demonstrate its dynamism and ongoing negotiation.

Fragility, mediation, and reversibility

ANT emphasises that networks are never permanent. Their stability relies on continuous performance and negotiation. For long, the Hasina regime relied on a network of security forces, foreign investment, bureaucratic compliance, and digital surveillance. But when segments of that network began to disaggregate—as seen in police defections, muted international responses, and media platforms turning critical—the regime's performative power faltered.

Meanwhile, protest networks expanded transnationally. Diaspora activism, international human rights statements, IMF warnings, and viral TikToks all introduced new nodes that exerted pressure on local dynamics. Each new actant either reinforced or challenged the existing topology of power. Crucially, ANT helps us see that power is not possessed but enacted through these fluctuating relations.

Equally important is ANT's insight that the collapse of a regime is not the end of a network but a transformation. The Hasina regime's fall did not erase its network; it reconfigured it. Some institutions adapted; others resisted. The military's neutrality, for instance, became a pivotal actant.

Technopolitics and infrastructural breakdown

Technology played a vital role as a mediating actor. Smartphones, VPNs, mobile banking apps, and content moderation algorithms shaped how information flowed and resistance formed. The failure of certain infrastructural systems—supply chains, energy grids, and digital transactions—also acted as silent insurrections against the state's claim to order and efficiency.

ANT understands these not as background conditions but as relational disruptions that recalibrate agency. A power outage in Chattogram was as much a political actor in the uprising as a protest march in Dhaka. In this sense, the uprising was as infrastructural as it was ideological.

Moreover, the sheer visibility of infrastructural breakdown became a form of counter-legitimacy. When people waited in line for hours for cooking oil or faced sudden disruptions in mobile banking, these daily inconveniences became discursive weapons, channelled into rants on social media, street slogans, and graffiti. ANT allows us to see how this cascade of micro-failures activated macro-political consequences.

Reassembling networks in motion

What emerges from this ANT-inflected reading is not a catalogue of causes but a dynamic cartography of entanglements. Rather than asking why the revolt happened or who made it happen, we begin to see how agency was dispersed, re-routed, and recursively enacted through volatile connections. ANT enables us to perceive these shifting assemblages as the very medium of political possibility. The uprising thus resists closure—not because it was unfinished in terms of outcomes, but because its very structure was one of continuous rearticulation. Before we speak of conclusions, we must acknowledge this provisionality.

ANT does not offer moral judgement or teleology. It offers a method for tracing how associations form, dissolve, and recombine. The July uprising in Bangladesh was not the result of a single cause or charismatic leadership. It was a dense choreography of actors assembling into momentary consensus, driven as much by affect and infrastructure as by slogans or manifestos.

In retrospect, to ask who led the uprising is the wrong question. The better question, from ANT's perspective, is: what network of humans and non-humans made the uprising visible, thinkable, and actionable? The answer lies not in the linear history of regime change but in the topology of connection—a cartography of revolt that remains provisional, reversible, and still unfolding.

ANT invites us to remain attentive to the unfinished nature of political transformation. The networks that brought down the Hasina regime are not inherently emancipatory; they are heterogeneous, unstable, and constantly in flux. What they do offer, however, is a method for tracking the emergence of new possibilities and the contestations that accompany them.

Dr Faridul Alam is a retired academic and writes from New York City, US.​

 

[Saif]

July uprising: Most of the deceased were working-class people

The majority of the deceased killed in July uprising were working-class people. At least 284 individuals from the labouring classes were martyred in the uprising.

en.prothomalo.com

Investigation-5
July uprising: Most of the deceased were working-class people
Ahmadul Hassan Dhaka
Updated: 20 Jul 2025, 12: 04

The majority of the deceased killed in July uprising were working-class people. At least 284 individuals from the labouring classes were martyred in the uprising.

Day labourers, rickshaw pullers, rickshaw-van drivers, CNG auto-rickshaw drivers, truck drivers and their helpers, shop workers, restaurant employees, and garment factory workers — both from formal and informal sectors — lost their lives during the uprising.

Out of the 844 names listed in the government’s official gazette of martyrs, Prothom Alo gathered specific information on 810 individuals. The newspaper interviewed the families of every one of them.

Based on family accounts and a breakdown by profession and age, the analysis shows that after labourers, students comprised the second-largest group of victims — 269 in total.

A significant number of these students were under the age of 18. School, college, and madrasah students, many of them minors, were at the forefront of the movement. According to Prothom Alo’s investigation, at least 133 children were killed during the uprising.

After labourers and students, the next highest number of deaths occurred among small and medium business owners — at least 120 lost their lives. They were followed by private sector employees, numbering 108.

Students led the uprising. But as the movement for equity and justice spread, people from nearly every class and profession joined in. This trend is also reflected in the government’s list of martyrs.

Prothom Alo’s analysis shows that 35 per cent of those martyred were working-class people. Besides, 33 per cent were students while 15 per cent were small or medium business owners, and 13 per cent were private sector employees.

Most of the killed were under 35

Among those killed during the July uprising, 79 per cent were under the age of 35 — that is 638 individuals. Notably, 17 per cent of the victims were children under 18. The majority died from live ammunition, though some were hacked, beaten, or burned to death.

Ages ranged from a 4-year-old child to a 70-year-old adult. In demographic terms, people between 15 and 64 years of age are typically considered “economically active.” Among the 810 martyrs Prothom Alo documented, 767 fell into this age group — meaning 95 per cent of the dead were working-age individuals.

The movement that sparked the July uprising was driven in part by demands for employment. Unemployment, inequality, and social injustice were core grievances. That so many working-age individuals joined spontaneously and lost their lives underscores the deep impact of these systemic issues. The scale of this loss is devastating for any country.

Large number of labourers joined the uprising

Many of the working-class people killed during the uprising were the sole breadwinners in their families. Their deaths have left their loved ones devastated.

Prothom Alo’s analysis indicates that Dhaka’s Jatrabari, Uttara, Mirpur, Mohammadpur, and Rampura areas witnessed the highest casualties — at least 324 people died in these five neighbourhoods. These areas are also home to large working-class populations. Particularly in Jatrabari, Mohammadpur, and parts of Mirpur, where fierce resistance took place, working-class people played a central role.

One such victim was Rajib Hossain, a CNG driver shot dead in Jatrabari on 19 July last year. His father, Tofazzal Hossain, told Prothom Alo on Wednesday that Rajib had lived in a rented flat with his wife and two children. Since his death, the family has been in crisis. They had to leave Dhaka and move to Damudya in Shariatpur, where his wife’s family lives.

Other areas like Savar, Gazipur, and Narayanganj — densely populated with formal and informal sector workers, including garment laborers — also saw high death tolls. According to the investigation, at least 65 people died in Savar, 36 in Gazipur, and 34 in Narayanganj. Many were working-class individuals.

Most deaths occurred in 5 areas of Dhaka

Syed Sultan Uddin Ahmed, head of the Labour Reform Commission, told Prothom Alo that many labourers were killed while simply going to work. He said, “When a working-class person dies, the entire family falls into crisis.”

Labourers have long suffered systemic inequality, he added. Many could not accept the brutal killing of students, which pushed them to join the protests. The Labour Reform Commission has submitted several recommendations to the interim government for ensuring protection for the families of slain labourers, and for addressing structural inequality and improving workers’ living standards. These recommendations must now be implemented.

33pc of the victims were students

Among the dead were 269 students, including Abu Sayed and Mir Mahfuzur Rahman Mughda. The student deaths account for 33 per cent of all those martyred. The list includes students from public and private universities, schools, colleges, and madrasahs. One of them was 16-year-old Abdullah Al Mahin.

Mahin, a student of the National Institute of Engineering and Technology, was shot dead on 4 August in front of the Rajuk Commercial Complex in Azampur, Uttara. His mother, Samira Jahan, told Prothom Alo on Wednesday (16 July), “He told me, ‘What’s the point of studying if I don’t get a job because of discrimination?’ He said he would fight inequality even if it cost him his life. And he really did die.”

Another protester in Uttara was Sheikh Shihabuddin, a student of a polytechnic institute. Speaking to Prothom Alo, he said he joined the movement for two reasons: his belief in the demand to eliminate discrimination in employment and society, and the emotional trauma of seeing fellow students shot and injured. He recounted how indiscriminate gunfire tore through Uttara and how he helped carry wounded students to the hospital.

Youths faced the bullets

The July uprising was youth-led. Even in the face of police and military gunfire, they refused to abandon the streets.

A report published in February by the UN Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights found that the Sheikh Hasina government employed systematic and increasingly brutal measures to crush the protests. Between 15 July and 5 August, more than 1,400 people may have been killed. The report stated that 66 per cent of the victims were shot by rifles, 12 per cent by shotguns, and 2 per cent by handguns.

Dhaka University professor of Population Sciences, Mohammad Mainul Islam, told Prothom Alo, “The youth who participated in the uprising became symbols of courage. One of the most striking aspects of this movement was the death of more than a hundred children and adolescents. Their sacrifice in the face of injustice and inequality will never be forgotten.”

[This report was prepared with assistance from Prothom Alo correspondents Md Mamun, Jannatul Naeem, Abriti Ahmed, and district correspondents.]​