IN THE early 1980s, when I was a graduate student in Los Angeles, I watched Professor Ali Mazrui’s The Africans: A Triple Heritage — a ninepart BBC/PBS documentary exploring Africa’s indigenous, Islamic and Western legacies. I was so glued to the program that I took notes, watched episodes repeatedly and carried those notes with me for decades. Mazrui argued that Western colonialism implanted administrative structures alien to African societies — bureaucracies designed not for service but for control. These structures encouraged corruption, misappropriation and institutional dysfunction. What struck me most was his warning: corruption that began under colonial rule did not disappear with independence. It metastasised, ultimately harming the very nations that had fought so hard to be free.

As I watched Mazrui dissect Africa’s bureaucratic malaise, I could not help but see my own Bangladesh reflected in his analysis. The parallels were uncanny and painful.

A system built against democracy

SOUTH Asia inherited many wounds from colonial rule, but none has proved as enduring — or as debilitating — as the bureaucratic state. The British Indian Civil Service was never meant to empower citizens. Its purpose was simple: collect revenue, maintain order and transmit imperial commands. Efficiency came not from responsiveness but from insulation — insulation from accountability, from public scrutiny and from democratic norms. Hierarchy, deference and discipline were its pillars. Service was not its ethos; control was.

One might have hoped that independence would transform this machinery. But when Pakistan inherited the colonial apparatus in 1947, it merely replaced British masters with Pakistani ones. The Civil Service of Pakistan remained dominated by a small, wellconnected elite whose loyalties lay upward, not outward. Bangladesh, born in 1971 through unimaginable sacrifice, inherited that same legacy. The officers who staffed the new nation’s ministries were trained in a tradition that prized procedural compliance over public responsiveness, institutional selfpreservation over reform and personal advancement over public service.

Independence changed the flag, not the culture.

The politicisation of bureaucracy

THE political environment of the newly independent Bangladesh made matters worse. The first Awami League government, deeply distrustful of bureaucrats associated with the Pakistani regime, moved swiftly to assert control. Officers suspected of disloyalty were forcibly retired — often without appeal. Their positions were filled by party loyalists, a pattern that has persisted across governments for decades.

This politicisation hollowed out professionalism. Officers advanced not because they designed effective policies or delivered services with integrity, but because they cultivated the right political connections. The incentive to perform was replaced by the incentive to affiliate. Over time, senior ranks became populated by individuals whose primary qualification was partisan loyalty rather than administrative competence.

Ordinary citizens do not care which party an officer privately supports. They care about fairness, efficiency and respect in public service. But when loyalty becomes the currency of advancement, corruption becomes the language of survival.

Why corruption thrives: the root causes

TO UNDERSTAND why Bangladesh’s bureaucracy remains trapped in corruption, one must examine the deeper forces that sustain it. Corruption is not merely a moral failure of individuals; it is the predictable outcome of a system designed for control rather than service.

First, the bureaucracy retains its colonial DNA. As Ali Mazrui observed, colonial administrations were efficient for imperial extraction, not for public service. Bangladesh inherited the same architecture — hierarchical, insulated and unaccountable. Independence changed the flag, not the operating system.

Second, accountability mechanisms are weak. Bureaucrats cannot be easily fired, disciplinary action is rare and the notorious OSD (Officer on Special Duty) postings allow nonperformers to draw full salaries without work. When wrongdoing carries no consequence, corruption becomes rational.

Third, politicisation has hollowed out professionalism. Recruitment and promotion often depend on partisan loyalty rather than merit. Officers quickly learn that serving political patrons advances their careers far more than serving the public. Integrity becomes a liability; affiliation becomes a survival strategy.

Fourth, discretionary power is enormous. A single officer can delay a land record, withhold a permit or stall a file indefinitely. In a system where discretion is high and transparency low, corruption thrives naturally.

Fifth, economic pressures and social expectations push many officials towards graft. Maintaining a middleclass lifestyle, sending children abroad for education and supporting extended families often exceed official salaries. Bribery becomes a financial supplement.

Finally, corruption has become culturally normalised. Citizens routinely say, ‘without speed money, nothing moves.’ Over time, bribery has transformed from a crime into a custom — an unofficial fee for accessing rights that should be guaranteed.

These root causes explain why corruption persists despite reforms, salary increases and public outrage. The system rewards corruption and punishes integrity. Until these structural incentives change, the epidemic will continue.

The explosion of corruption

CORRUPTION in Bangladesh’s bureaucracy is not a side effect — it is the system’s operating principle. What once required a few hundred taka during Pakistan times now demands tens of thousands, even millions. Bribery has become institutionalised, normalised and expected. It is the toll one must pay to access rights that should be guaranteed.

The consequences are devastating. Every year, thousands of families are pushed into debt because an official demands ‘speed money’ to process a land document, approve a permit or correct an administrative error. Even when bribes are paid, some officers delay execution until more is extracted. Greed has become a bottomless pit.

The irony is cruel: elected governments come and go, but the bureaucracy remains — greedy, entrenched and unaccountable.

The economic cost: what corruption really steals

CREDIBLE estimates reveal the staggering financial cost of Bangladesh’s bureaucratic corruption. Transparency International Bangladesh reports that citizens paid Tk 12,633 crore in bribes in a single year — 1.58 per cent of the national budget — simply to access basic public services. A 2024 White Paper on the economy found even more alarming systemic losses: annual illicit financial outflows averaging $16 billion, procurement corruption amounting to Tk 1.61-2.80 lakh crore over 15 years, and banking sector distress exceeding Tk 6.75 lakh crore. Public infrastructure projects were inflated by 70 per cent on average, siphoning off $14-24 billion, while labour-migration syndicates diverted Tk 13.4 lakh crore through illegal channels. These numbers show that corruption is not merely a moral failing; it is an economic catastrophe that bleeds Bangladesh dry.

The futility of salary increases

SUCCESSIVE governments attempted to curb corruption by dramatically increasing bureaucratic salaries and perks. The logic was simple: pay officials well and they will not need bribes.

But corruption is not driven by need; it is driven by opportunity.

Higher salaries did not reduce bribery — they inflated it. When the price of entry rises, so does the price of corruption. What was once petty graft became organised extortion. The bureaucracy became a marketplace where public suffering was monetised.

Meanwhile, many highranking officials sent their children abroad for undergraduate studies — programmes that rarely offer scholarships — paying tens of thousands of dollars in tuition and living expenses. In a country where millions struggle to afford basic necessities, such expenditures raise uncomfortable questions about the sources of wealth.

The bureaucratic stranglehold

THE most tragic aspect of Bangladesh’s bureaucratic epidemic is its ability to sabotage even wellintentioned leaders. A childhood classmate of mine, appointed as a special assistant to Dr Muhammad Yunus with the rank of state minister in the post-Hasina interim government, confided in me his frustration. Joint proposals endorsed by him, Dr Salehuddin Ahmed and Dr Yunus were routinely delayed, buried or quietly sabotaged by bureaucrats who disliked the initiative. Their grip was unbreakable.

This is not an isolated story. It is the lived experience of countless ministers, secretaries and reformers. Honest leadership is rendered impotent by a system designed to resist change.

Unlike in the United States — where hiring and firing are integral to maintaining accountability — Bangladesh’s bureaucracy is nearly impossible to discipline. The most an unwanted officer faces is reassignment as an OSD, a euphemism for drawing full salary without performing any work. For a poor country, this is not merely inefficient; it is immoral.

A professional lens: waste and inefficiency

HAVING spent decades deploying Operational Excellence programmes for multinational giants such as BASF and Merck, I have learned that most organisations carry far more employees than needed. In many cases, 95–98 per cent of tasks are nonvalueadded — wasteful, redundant or misaligned with customer needs.

Bangladesh’s bureaucracy is a textbook example. Retired civil servants privately admit that entire departments could be eliminated without affecting citizens. Processes could be streamlined, cycle times reduced and service delivery modernised. But reform requires intent, and intent requires champions.

Who will bell the cat?

The human cost

I COULD fill pages with personal anecdotes — stories of how bureaucratic delays and corruption have harmed my own family. Stories of documents withheld, rights violated and years lost to pointless procedures. Stories of officials who demanded bribes to correct their own mistakes. Stories of suffering that no citizen of a free nation should endure.

These experiences are not unique. They are the daily reality of millions.

Bangladesh is a nation of extraordinary resilience. Its people work hard, dream big and endure more than any population should. Yet they are forced to navigate a bureaucratic labyrinth that punishes honesty, rewards greed and delays justice.

What must change

REFORM is not impossible. But it requires clarity, courage and commitment.

— Define the problem with precision. Use the 5 W’s and 2 H’s — who, what, when, where, why, how bad (monetise the problem), and how much (size and frequency of problem) — to map the bureaucratic bottlenecks.

— Set SMART goals. Specific, measurable, achievable, relevant, timebound targets can transform vague aspirations into actionable reforms.

— Depoliticise recruitment and promotion. Merit must replace loyalty. Performance must replace patronage.

— Digitise processes aggressively. Automation reduces human discretion — the breeding ground of corruption.

— Empower citizens through education and awareness. No reform can succeed if citizens remain resigned to corruption as a fact of life. Public awareness campaigns, civic education and community engagement can help people understand their rights and the cost of corruption. When citizens know what is unacceptable, they are more likely to resist it.

— Enable safe, anonymous reporting. People must be able to report bribery and dishonesty without fear of retaliation. Anonymous hotlines, digital reporting platforms and whistleblower protections can transform citizens from victims into watchdogs.

— Strengthen and empower the AntiCorruption Commission. The ACC must be independent, wellfunded and free from political interference. It should have prosecutorial authority, investigative autonomy and protection for its officers. Without a strong ACC, corruption will remain unchecked.

— Introduce performancebased incentives. Reward efficiency, integrity and innovation — not seniority or affiliation.

— Enforce accountability. No system can improve when wrongdoing carries no consequence.

A moral imperative

BANGLADESH does not need a larger bureaucracy. It needs a leaner, cleaner, more accountable one: a bureaucracy mindful of its duty before the people — and before God on the Day of Judgment; a bureaucracy that remembers that public service is a sacred trust, not a personal entitlement.

Bangladesh’s future depends on breaking the colonial curse. Reform is not merely administrative; it is moral. It is about restoring dignity to citizens, hope to families and integrity to governance.

Bangladesh deserves a bureaucracy that serves — not suffocates — its people.

Dr Habib Siddiqui is affiliated with Esho Desh Gori — Let’s Build Bangladesh and is a co-founder of NRB Council, USA.