The death of Khaleda Zia at the age of 80 draws a definitive line under one of the most influential, divisive, and enduring chapters in the political history of Bangladesh, a country whose modern identity was forged through struggle and repeatedly tested by instability. As the first woman elected prime minister, Zia became a symbol of both progress and polarization, admired by supporters as a resilient leader who confronted military rule and defended pluralist politics, while criticized by opponents as a figure whose governments were marred by corruption allegations, political violence, and institutional paralysis. Her passing is not merely the loss of a former head of government but the conclusion of an era in which personal rivalries and political dynasties dominated national life, shaping policy, protest, and public perception for more than three decades. In a nation still reckoning with the consequences of prolonged political confrontation, Zia’s death invites reflection on the costs of that history and the unfinished work of democratic consolidation.

Khaleda Zia’s rise to prominence cannot be understood without revisiting the turbulent aftermath of Bangladesh’s independence in 1971, a period marked by coups, assassinations, and intense ideological conflict. Her political journey began indirectly, through the ascent of her husband, Ziaur Rahman, a military officer who emerged as a central figure after the assassination of independence leader Sheikh Mujibur Rahman in 1975. Ziaur Rahman eventually seized power, founded the Bangladesh Nationalist Party, and sought to legitimize his rule through elections and limited political openness, earning both praise and criticism for blending military authority with civilian governance. His assassination in a 1981 coup abruptly transformed Khaleda Zia from a largely private individual into a political widow thrust into leadership. Over time, she assumed control of the BNP and redefined herself as a civilian opponent of military domination, mobilizing mass protests and aligning with other democratic forces to challenge authoritarian rule. That struggle culminated in the 1990 uprising that toppled military ruler H.M. Ershad, restoring parliamentary democracy and establishing Zia as one of the most powerful figures in the country.

Her electoral victory in 1991 made history, not only because she became Bangladesh’s first woman prime minister, but because her ascent symbolized a return to civilian governance after years of military interference. Zia’s first term was shaped by efforts to stabilize democratic institutions, rebuild trust in elections, and manage a deeply fractured political environment. Yet from the outset, her tenure was overshadowed by fierce rivalry with Sheikh Hasina, the daughter of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, whose own family tragedy and political ambitions mirrored Zia’s in haunting ways. The competition between the two women evolved into a bitter, personalized struggle that dominated Bangladesh’s politics, turning elections into existential contests and fueling cycles of strikes, boycotts, and street violence. The disputed election of early 1996, which Zia’s party won overwhelmingly amid an opposition boycott, underscored the fragility of democratic norms. Though her government stepped aside after just 12 days to allow a neutral caretaker administration and fresh elections, the episode entrenched mistrust and set a precedent for future electoral crises.

Zia’s return to power in 2001 marked both a political comeback and a turning point that would define her legacy in more controversial terms. Leading a coalition that included the Islamist Jamaat-e-Islami party, her government emphasized pro-market economic policies, foreign investment, and privatization, earning support from segments of the business community. At the same time, critics accused her administration of tolerating or enabling extremist groups, pointing to a rise in militant activity and attacks that shook public confidence. Relations with neighboring India deteriorated as New Delhi accused Bangladesh of allowing insurgents to operate across its borders, allegations Zia’s government denied. Domestically, corruption allegations intensified, particularly involving her elder son, Tarique Rahman, whom critics accused of running a shadow administration that influenced appointments, contracts, and policy decisions. These accusations culminated in one of the most traumatic episodes of modern Bangladeshi politics: the 2004 grenade attack on an opposition rally that killed 24 people and wounded hundreds, narrowly missing Hasina herself. While Zia denied any involvement, the attack deepened national divisions and eroded her government’s legitimacy.

The aftermath of those years ushered in a prolonged period of political decline for Zia, as power shifted decisively toward Hasina and her Awami League. Following Hasina’s return to office in 2008, Bangladesh entered an era of increasingly centralized authority, marked by contested elections, weakened opposition, and shrinking civic space. Zia became the target of multiple corruption cases, resulting in lengthy prison sentences that effectively sidelined her from active politics. Her party insisted the charges were politically motivated, arguing that the judiciary had been used as a tool to neutralize opposition, while the government maintained that the courts acted independently. Zia’s imprisonment, compounded by her deteriorating health, drew criticism from human rights organizations and foreign observers, particularly as repeated requests for her to seek medical treatment abroad were denied. Her conditional release in 2020, on humanitarian grounds, did little to restore her political influence, but it transformed her into a powerful symbol of the costs of political vendettas in a system where reconciliation had long been elusive.

Health concerns eventually eclipsed political calculations, especially after the dramatic upheavals of 2024, when mass protests forced Hasina from power and led to the formation of an interim government headed by Nobel Peace Prize laureate Muhammad Yunus. Only then was Zia permitted to travel abroad for treatment, spending months in London before returning to Bangladesh. Though she remained largely silent on politics, her continued role as chairperson of the BNP underscored her enduring symbolic importance. Even in frailty, she represented an alternative political lineage and a reminder of a time when power alternated between rivals rather than consolidating around a single authority. Her final public appearances, marked by physical weakness, carried a quiet poignancy, reflecting the toll of decades spent at the center of relentless political conflict. At her death, leadership of the BNP effectively rested with her son Tarique Rahman, ensuring that her political legacy would continue to influence the party’s direction and the broader national discourse.

Khaleda Zia’s death forces Bangladesh to confront a complex and contested legacy that defies simple judgment. She was a trailblazer who broke gender barriers at the highest level of governance, a leader who played a crucial role in ending military rule, and a central actor in shaping the country’s democratic trajectory. Yet she was also a figure whose tenure was associated with deep polarization, allegations of corruption, and alliances that many believe compromised secular and democratic values. Her lifelong rivalry with Sheikh Hasina, while energizing political participation, also entrenched a winner-takes-all mentality that weakened institutions and normalized confrontation over compromise. As Bangladesh looks toward an uncertain future, Zia’s passing closes a chapter defined by personal animosity and dynastic politics, raising the question of whether a new generation of leaders can move beyond that legacy. In the final reckoning, Khaleda Zia remains inseparable from the story of modern Bangladesh itself—a nation striving to balance memory and reform, resilience and reconciliation, as it seeks a more stable democratic path forward.