Few institutions in Bangladesh have carried as much symbolic weight as the International Crimes Tribunal (ICT). Established to prosecute atrocities committed during the country’s 1971 liberation war, the tribunal once represented a long-awaited attempt to deliver justice for one of South Asia’s darkest chapters. Today, however, the same institution is facing mounting allegations that threaten to undermine its credibility. Investigative reports, leaked communications, and internal disputes have raised disturbing questions about bribery, political manipulation, and institutional abuse within the tribunal—casting doubt on whether it still serves the cause of justice or has become a tool of political retribution.
The tribunal was originally established in 2009 under the International Crimes (Tribunals) Act 1973 to prosecute individuals accused of committing genocide, crimes against humanity, and other grave offences during the Bangladesh Liberation War of 1971. For decades, many Bangladeshis had demanded accountability for atrocities committed during the war, particularly by the Pakistan Army and its local collaborators such as the Razakar militia, the Al-Badr militia, and the Al-Shams militia.
International actors initially welcomed the move. The United Nations offered technical assistance, while the European Union expressed support for the trials and encouraged Bangladesh to ensure that proceedings adhered to international standards of due process.
At its inception, the tribunal was widely viewed as a national effort to reconcile historical trauma with legal accountability.
The role and perception of the tribunal began to shift dramatically following the political upheaval that culminated in the removal of former prime minister Sheikh Hasina from power on August 5, 2024. After the political transition, the tribunal’s jurisdiction and operational priorities were altered through legislative amendments.
Under the interim administration led by Muhammad Yunus, the tribunal began hearing a growing number of cases against senior members of the former Awami League government as well as officials from Bangladesh’s civil administration, military, and law enforcement agencies. At the same time, pending trials related to genocide committed by the Pakistan Army and its collaborators were sent to cold storage.
It may be mentioned here that Muhammad Yunus has been using ICT to punish Sheikh Hasina out of vengeance and personal vendetta for the Hasina government’s “crime” of bringing charges of tax evasion and other serious allegations, as well as for not allowing Yunus to illegally hold the position of managing director of Grameen Bank. In addition to other legal proceedings, Yunus was also sentenced to jail in Bangladesh for violating labour law.
But supporters of the new approach of targeting Sheikh Hasina argued that these prosecutions were necessary to investigate alleged crimes committed during the political turmoil surrounding the 2024 protests and subsequent power transition. Critics, however, have increasingly warned that the tribunal may be drifting away from its original mandate and being used to settle political scores.
Concerns over the tribunal’s integrity intensified after investigative reporting by British journalist David Bergman, whose work on Bangladesh’s war crimes trials has long attracted international attention.
According to Bergman, prosecutors connected with the tribunal allegedly demanded one crore taka (approximately $82,000) from the family of detained former Awami League politician ABM Fazle Karim Chowdhury in exchange for facilitating bail.
Bergman reported that audio recordings capture conversations between members of Chowdhury’s family and tribunal prosecutor Saimum Reza Talukder, who was reportedly assigned to the case.
In one conversation cited in the report, Talukder allegedly referenced a previously discussed financial demand, saying that securing release would require a “fairly large amount”, estimated at one crore taka. The conversation also reportedly included a request for an advance payment of ten lakh taka in cash.
Two independent media outlets verified the recordings by comparing call logs and voice samples.
If accurate, these allegations point to a troubling possibility: that individuals facing prosecution before the tribunal could be subject to financial extortion.
The bribery allegations emerged alongside an escalating internal conflict within the prosecution team itself.
In January 2026, then Chief Prosecutor Tajul Islam sent a formal letter to the Ministry of Law requesting the dismissal of prosecutor Sultan Mahmud. The letter cited accusations of serious professional misconduct, breaches of confidentiality, and confrontational behaviour with security staff. Yet the dispute took an unexpected turn weeks later.
On February 23, 2026—the same day Tajul Islam himself was removed from his position—Mahmud publicly accused the chief prosecutor and his associate Gazi Monawar Hossain Tamim of corruption and irregular conduct.
Through a series of social media statements, Mahmud questioned several prosecutorial decisions, including the handling of certain police officers implicated in cases and meetings allegedly held with relatives of accused individuals.
He went further, claiming that the chief prosecutor’s office had effectively become a “money-making tool”.
The accusations were immediately rejected by Tajul Islam, who dismissed them as malicious attempts to derail ongoing trials.
Responding to the allegations, Tajul Islam issued a lengthy statement denying any corruption within the prosecution team. He described the accusations as a calculated attempt by vested interests to undermine the tribunal’s work.
According to Islam, the allegations were designed to shift attention away from the prosecution of individuals accused of serious crimes.
Nevertheless, the controversy has already triggered an internal review within the tribunal’s chief prosecutor’s office to examine the bribery claims. For many observers, however, the damage to the tribunal’s credibility may already be significant.
Beyond allegations of corruption, legal experts have also raised concerns about the tribunal’s jurisdiction.
A Canadian jurist familiar with international criminal law—speaking anonymously—has argued that institutions like the tribunal must maintain a clear distinction between domestic criminal proceedings and international war crimes trials.
The International Criminal Court, based in The Hague, operates under international treaty law and deals with crimes of global concern such as genocide, crimes against humanity, and war crimes when national courts are unable or unwilling to prosecute.
The Bangladeshi tribunal, by contrast, is a domestic court created under national legislation. Confusing the two—whether intentionally or inadvertently—risks creating misunderstanding about the tribunal’s legal authority and procedural standards. The broader political environment surrounding the tribunal has become increasingly polarized.
Meanwhile, Yunus created a suffocating atmosphere in Bangladesh thus pushing the country towards the fate of a Caliphate thus threatening nation’s Bengali soul. Simultaneously, he weaponized the ICT and turned it into an instrument of targeting Sheikh Hasina by appointing Jamaat-e-Islami leaders into key positions in it. As a result, Hasina was handed the death penalty in two cases, while she faces hundreds of murder charges—most of which were lodged by the activists of the Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP) and Jamaat. The trials of Sheikh Hasina, some conducted in absentia, have drawn criticism from several international rights advocates who question whether due process standards have been fully upheld.
Yunus administration defended the proceedings as a necessary step toward accountability. These competing narratives have transformed the tribunal into one of the most contentious institutions in Bangladesh’s political landscape.
The International Crimes Tribunal was originally envisioned as a historic instrument of justice—a forum where the unresolved crimes of 1971 could finally be addressed through the rule of law. Yet the wave of allegations now surrounding the institution threatens to erode that legacy. Claims of bribery, internal corruption, and political manipulation—whether ultimately proven or disproven—have already damaged public confidence. For Bangladesh, a country whose history is deeply intertwined with the pursuit of justice for wartime atrocities, the credibility of such institutions is vital. Unless the allegations are investigated transparently and decisively, the tribunal risks transforming from a symbol of accountability into a source of enduring controversy.
