Sheikh Hasina Death Sentence Called Illegal and Unenforceable

The death sentence handed to former Bangladesh Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina by the International Crimes Tribunal–Bangladesh (ICT-B) has triggered an unprecedented wave of concern. According to multiple sources, the case is riddled with constitutional violations, questionable judicial appointments, prosecutorial bias, restricted defence rights, rushed procedures, and a trial environment that experts say was fundamentally incompatible with justice. What should have been a serious legal process has now become the center of a storm that questions the very integrity of Bangladesh’s justice system.

The ICT-B itself was built on fragile ground. Originally established under the International Crimes (Tribunals) Act of 1973, it was designed exclusively to address atrocities committed during the 1971 Liberation War. Its legal framework was never intended to prosecute events outside that narrow historical context. Yet the tribunal moved forward using amendments introduced after 5 August 2024, amendments that many legal scholars say are invalid because they were passed through an executive ordinance without parliamentary approval. Under Article 93 of the Constitution, the President did not have the authority to issue such changes, and with Parliament improperly dissolved, the legitimacy of the tribunal’s powers stands deeply compromised.

Concerns only intensified with the manner in which the judiciary was reshaped. On 10 August 2024, the Chief Justice and five judges of the Appellate Division resigned after a student mob surrounded the Supreme Court and issued an ultimatum. The sudden vacuum allowed new appointments that violated constitutional procedures, with several judges elevated hastily, bypassing mandatory probation requirements and lacking any experience in international criminal law. Their backgrounds, connections, and political leanings have fueled suspicions that the tribunal was formed with a predetermined outcome in mind.

The prosecution’s structure has also come under fire. Chief Prosecutor Mohammed Tajul Islam, who previously worked as the chief lawyer for convicted war criminals, was appointed despite glaring conflicts of interest. His past associations with Jamaat-e-Islami cast serious doubt on the impartiality of the prosecution. The appointment of Toby Cadman, another lawyer linked to past Jamaat war crimes cases, as Special Adviser to the Chief Prosecutor further deepened the perception that the tribunal was politically weaponized.

The trial process itself has been described as rushed, restrictive, and unfair. On 18 November 2024, the tribunal ordered investigators to complete their work within one month—an impossibly short timeline for allegations involving genocide and crimes against humanity. Sheikh Hasina repeatedly stated she was denied the right to choose her own legal counsel. The state-appointed lawyer admitted openly that he never attempted to contact her, had no background in international law, and was forced to represent more than one accused person at the same time. He received the full prosecution documents only weeks before the trial began, yet filed no request for more time, intensifying suspicion that the defence was never meant to function effectively.

Witness cross-examination was heavily restricted, relying on a controversial precedent that prosecutors themselves once opposed. After the verdict, the defence lawyer said he could not file an appeal because Hasina was tried in absentia, and the tribunal refused to provide him with a copy of the judgment. Trials held without the accused present are rare in serious criminal cases around the world, and almost unheard of when the punishment is death.

Meanwhile, the political backdrop grew increasingly tense. Thousands of cases were filed after 5 August 2024 against members of the Awami League, including more than 200 against Hasina herself. Many were duplicate cases lodged in multiple locations on the same day, raising suspicions of systematic targeting rather than lawful investigation. At the same time, individuals linked to extremist groups and Jamaat-e-Islami—including convicted terrorists—were released on bail or freed entirely. Reports of custodial deaths, forensic inconsistencies, arbitrary arrests, and attacks on accused individuals inside court premises painted a grim picture of a justice system under immense political pressure.

What shocked observers even more were the public statements made by senior officials before the trial concluded. The Chief Prosecutor declared as early as October 2024 that Hasina “would be brought to justice for massacres,” while a senior government adviser proclaimed she would “only return to walk the gallows.” These remarks, made long before evidence was presented, are now being cited as proof that her fate was sealed long before the court proceedings began.

Despite being a State Party to the Rome Statute, Bangladesh’s interim government chose not to take the case to the International Criminal Court—reportedly because inconsistencies in the tribunal’s case would not survive international scrutiny. Legal experts argue that this decision, combined with the extensive irregularities reported, further undermines the credibility of the verdict.

The fallout from the ruling is already reshaping the political discourse in Bangladesh and triggering deep concern among international legal experts, human rights groups, and global leaders. The case has exposed cracks in the nation’s legal structure, raising questions that go far beyond the verdict itself. It challenges the very foundation of justice, rule of law, and democratic accountability at a moment when Bangladesh is already politically fragile.

As global pressure mounts and fresh details continue to emerge, Sheikh Hasina’s death sentence now stands not just as a legal controversy, but as a defining moment for Bangladesh’s future. Whether the system can withstand the scrutiny—and whether justice will truly be served—remains a question the country must confront urgently.