AGRICULTURE remains the single largest sector in Bangladesh in terms of employment. The Bangladesh Economic Survey 2024 states that 45 per cent of the country’s labour force is involved in agriculture. For a nation so deeply tied to the land, the traditional rights of farmers — to save, exchange, and cultivate seeds — are not cultural relics. They are the living basis of food security, community resilience and rural survival. These practices have endured for centuries, forming the backbone of farming in the global south. Yet today, that backbone is under strain from international treaties, patent regimes and domestic laws that often prioritise commercial breeding over community rights.
Globally, the framework governing plant varieties is shaped by two dominant instruments: the World Trade Organization’s Agreement on Trade-Related Aspects of Intellectual Property Rights (TRIPS) and the UPOV Convention. Both focus on granting legal protection to plant breeders, often through patents or systems designed to serve corporate breeders. The International Convention for the Protection of New Varieties of Plants (UPOV), particularly its 1991 act, goes even further by restricting farmers’ ability to reuse seeds. This breeder-centric approach is at odds with the informal, community-based seed systems upon which millions of smallholder farmers depend.
Bangladesh, while a WTO member, has thus far declined to join the UPOV Convention. This decision is prudent and should remain unchanged. UPOV’s rigid structure leaves little space for the preservation of informal seed exchange practices. However, Bangladesh’s own legislative response — the Plant Varieties Protection Act of 2019 — has fallen short of fully protecting the rights it claims to uphold. While the Act aims to safeguard both breeders and farmers, several provisions remain vague, inaccessible, and biased toward commercial interests.
Section 23(2) of the act illustrates this tension. It allows farmers to reproduce and sell seeds from protected varieties, but not for commercial purposes. This vague line between personal and commercial use invites legal uncertainty. If a farmer sells surplus seed at a local market, does that qualify as commerce? Such ambiguity weakens the very protections the law was meant to ensure. It also threatens seed diversity, stifles grassroots innovation, and makes it harder for farmers to adapt to the challenges of climate change.
Another fault line lies in the process of registering plant varieties. The system assumes equal capacity between traditional farmers and corporate breeders, which is far from reality. Most smallholders lack access to legal knowledge, financial resources, and technical support. The barriers to entry are high, the bureaucracy opaque. As a result, farmers struggle to claim protection or benefits from varieties they have nurtured over generations. This undermines the spirit of the law and deepens the marginalisation of rural communities.
The growing influence of patents on plant genetics compounds the threat. In a country where the majority of farmers operate informally, the risk of inadvertently using patented genetic material is real. A farmer may cultivate a crop unaware that it contains a patented trait and find themselves facing legal penalties. Meanwhile, smaller breeders who cannot afford legal representation or licensing fees are pushed out of the system entirely. This creates a dangerous concentration of control in the hands of multinational corporations and undermines the collective resilience of the farming sector.
By comparison, India offers a more grounded model. The Protection of Plant Varieties and Farmers’ Rights Act of 2001 recognises farmers as breeders in their own right. It affirms their ability to save, use, and sell farm-saved seeds, as long as the seeds are not sold under a commercial brand. It includes mechanisms for benefit-sharing and protection of traditional knowledge. This is not a perfect system, but it shows that legislation can balance innovation and equity. Bangladesh would do well to learn from it.
Moreover, Bangladesh has international obligations under the International Treaty on Plant Genetic Resources for Food and Agriculture (ITPGRFA), a treaty that promotes the conservation of plant genetic resources, benefit-sharing, and farmers’ participation in policymaking. However, these commitments have not yet translated into enforceable legal protections. The disconnect between treaty obligations and domestic law is growing wider.
What Bangladesh needs now is more than incremental reform. The time has come to adopt a comprehensive Farmers’ Rights Law. This law must go beyond the limited provisions of the 2019 Act. It should unambiguously protect the rights of farmers to save, use, exchange and sell seeds — including at markets. It must address the structural disadvantages faced by smallholder farmers in the registration process and include legal aid for navigating the system.
Such a law should also block the patenting of conventionally bred or indigenous varieties and prevent corporations from monopolising genetic resources that have long been part of community knowledge. Transparency in seed labelling and traceability would protect farmers from accidental infringement and build trust in the system. Benefit-sharing mechanisms must be mandatory, not aspirational. And an independent National Farmers’ Rights Authority should be established to ensure implementation, monitor abuses, and serve as a platform for dispute resolution.
Legal change, however, is only part of the solution. Strong agricultural policies must work in tandem with legal protections. Research must shift toward climate-resilient farming and sustainable practices that serve the interests of small farmers. Extension services should be scaled up to offer practical advice and training, especially in remote areas. Community seed banks can help preserve local varieties and offer farmers a means of exchange outside of commercial supply chains. Integrated farming systems that combine crops, livestock, and aquaculture can improve soil health and reduce reliance on synthetic inputs. These are not just technical adjustments. They are political choices about whose knowledge matters and whose survival counts.
The right to seed is the right to sovereignty. For a country where nearly half the workforce depends on agriculture, ensuring the freedom of farmers to control their seeds is an existential priority. Without this right, food security becomes fragile, innovation becomes exclusive, and rural communities become voiceless. Seed sovereignty is not a slogan. It is the foundation of a just and sustainable agricultural future.
Bangladesh must not follow the global drift toward seed privatisation and genetic monopolies. It must chart a course that protects its farmers as custodians of biodiversity, agents of innovation, and stewards of the land. The law must serve them, not silence them. The future of agriculture depends on it.
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Tahsina Zaman is a law graduate from Bangladesh University of Professionals. Abdur Rahman Al-Mamun is a student at the Hajee Mohammad Danesh Science & Technology University.
