In a constitutional democracy, the making of international commitments cannot be treated as a private craft exercised behind closed doors. It is a public act, undertaken in the name of the people, and it must therefore be subject to public scrutiny. Bangladesh's own basic law recognises this. Article 145A of the Constitution of Bangladesh requires that international treaties be laid before parliament. Yet for years this provision has been honoured more in its breach than in observance. The result is a democratic deficit that corrodes accountability, invites mistrust and weakens the legitimacy of foreign policy itself.
For clarity, the constitutional requirement is explicit. Article 145A provides:
"All treaties with foreign countries shall be submitted to the President, who shall cause them to be laid before Parliament:
Provided that any such treaty connected with national security shall be laid before Parliament in a secret session."
The language is neither ambiguous nor optional. It imposes a duty on the executive to ensure that international agreements -- subject only to limited exceptions -- enter the parliamentary domain. This is not a ceremonial formality; it is a mechanism designed to ensure that the people, through their representatives, are informed and able to debate commitments made in their name.
The argument for parliamentary scrutiny is not an abstract one. Treaties today are not confined to war and peace; they shape trade, energy, infrastructure, digital governance and even the terms on which data is exchanged. They can lock in long-term financial obligations, confer rights on foreign investors, or commit the state to regulatory pathways that affect citizens' daily lives. When such agreements are concluded without meaningful legislative oversight, the public is effectively asked to accept binding decisions they neither saw nor debated.
The spirit behind Article 145A is clear: transparency is not a luxury, but a constitutional duty. Placing treaties before parliament does not automatically undo executive discretion in negotiations; rather, it complements. Diplomacy often requires confidentiality during talks, but once an agreement is signed, the case for secrecy diminishes sharply. At that point, democratic legitimacy demands disclosure and discussion. Parliament is the forum where competing interests are aired, where costs and benefits are weighed, and where the government is obliged to justify its choices.
Bangladesh's own history offers a cautionary tale of what happens when this principle is neglected. The India-Bangladesh Friendship Treaty, signed between Sheikh Mujibur Rahman and Indira Gandhi, was a landmark agreement in the immediate aftermath of independence. It sought to institutionalise cooperation between the two countries at a fragile moment in South Asia's history. Yet the absence of full and open disclosure in parliament allowed rumours to proliferate -- many of them baseless, some deliberately misleading.
In the vacuum created by limited transparency, narratives emerged suggesting that the treaty compromised Bangladesh's sovereignty or bound it into unequal obligations. These claims, often exaggerated or entirely unfounded, gained traction precisely because the public and their representatives were not adequately informed of the treaty's actual provisions. Instead of reasoned debate grounded in facts, the discourse was driven by suspicion. The result was not only confusion but a gradual erosion of trust in the government's intentions.
The damage was political as well as perceptual. The government of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, already navigating immense post-war challenges, found its image tarnished by allegations that might have been dispelled through open parliamentary scrutiny. Transparency, in this sense, is not merely a normative good; it is a practical safeguard against misinformation. When citizens are denied access to authoritative information, rumour becomes a substitute for reality.
This lesson has lost none of its relevance. A pattern has taken hold in which significant international agreements -- whether with states or private entities -- have been concluded without systematic parliamentary debate. During the years of the Sheikh Hasina government, critics repeatedly complained that major deals were kept out of the legislature's line of sight. This practice did not merely sidestep a constitutional clause; it hollowed out a key mechanism of democratic accountability. When the people's representatives are denied access to the terms of international commitments, scrutiny shifts from the chamber to speculation in the public square.
The interim period that followed only sharpened the problem. A number of agreements were inked in quick succession, some involving foreign companies and others touching on strategic sectors. In the absence of clear, timely disclosure, these deals became the subject of rumour and confusion. This is the predictable consequence of opacity: where information is scarce, conjecture rushes in. The damage is twofold. First, it undermines public trust in the state's intentions. Second, it weakens the agreements themselves, as partners may find their commitments questioned by a sceptical domestic audience.
The present elected government now has an opportunity -- and an obligation -- to reset this trajectory. The most immediate step is straightforward: place all recent treaties and agreements before parliament in line with Article 145A. This should include not only state-to-state treaties but also significant contracts with foreign companies that carry public implications. In particular, recent engagements and agreements with countries such as Japan and the United States must also be subjected to parliamentary scrutiny. These partnerships often involve large-scale investments, strategic cooperation and long-term commitments. Keeping them outside parliamentary discussion risks repeating the same cycle of speculation and mistrust.
But compliance should not stop at the formal laying of documents. Too often, the tabling of treaties becomes a perfunctory act, with bulky texts deposited without explanation and little time allocated for scrutiny. If the spirit of the constitution is to be honoured, parliament must be enabled to do its job. That means structured debates, committee hearings, expert testimony and accessible summaries that translate legal jargon into plain language. It means allowing opposition voices to question, probe and, where necessary, dissent.
There are models to draw upon. In several parliamentary democracies, treaties are accompanied by explanatory memoranda detailing their objectives, financial implications and legal effects. Committees examine these documents, call witnesses and report back to the chamber. Such processes do not paralyse foreign policy; they strengthen it by ensuring that agreements rest on a broader base of consent. Bangladesh does not need to import these practices wholesale, but it can adapt their principles to its own institutional context.
Some will argue that increased parliamentary involvement risks politicising foreign policy or slowing down decision-making. This concern is overstated. Foreign policy is already political; it reflects choices about national priorities and values. The question is not whether politics is present, but whether it is conducted openly or concealed. As for speed, most treaties are not concluded overnight. Where urgency is genuinely required, mechanisms can be devised for expedited scrutiny without sacrificing transparency.
Another objection is that sensitive details cannot be aired in public. This, too, is manageable. Parliaments around the world routinely handle classified information through closed sessions or secure committees. The existence of sensitive elements should not be used as a blanket justification for withholding entire agreements from legislative oversight. Selective confidentiality is compatible with overall transparency.
What is at stake here is more than procedural tidiness. It is the relationship between the state and its citizens. In a republic, sovereignty ultimately resides with the people. When their representatives are excluded from decisions that bind the nation internationally, that sovereignty is diluted. Conversely, when treaties are debated in parliament, citizens can see how and why decisions are made. They can hold their representatives to account, reward prudence and punish folly.
Bangladesh stands at a juncture where institutional renewal is both necessary and possible. Reaffirming the role of parliament in scrutinising international treaties would be a meaningful step in that direction. It would signal a break from habits of opacity and a return to the constitutional promise of accountable governance. Above all, it would recognise a simple truth: agreements made in the name of the people must be open to the people's representatives.
In the end, democracy is sustained not only by elections but by the everyday practices that give those elections meaning. Ensuring that international treaties are discussed in parliament is one such practice -- mundane perhaps, but indispensable. Without it, the architecture of accountability remains incomplete. With it, Bangladesh can begin to rebuild trust between state and citizen, and to anchor its foreign policy in the consent of those it serves.
mirmostafiz@yahoo.com
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