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RECENT reports from Students Against Discrimination and Jatiya Nagarik Committee reveal a staggering toll of 1,581 deaths during the student-led uprising from July 16 to August 5 in Bangladesh. Alongside these deaths, over 19,200 injuries have been documented by the health ministry. Among the injured, many have endured the loss of limbs, eyesight, or other critical body parts — which will forever burden the course of their lives.

The uprising, although it succeeded in overthrowing the Awami League regime, left the nation facing many deeply rooted challenges. One of the most troubling aspects in the aftermath of the July uprising is witnessing political parties, sidelined for nearly 17 years, now attempting to use the movement for political gain.The students who led the protests did so in opposition to a system that had failed them entirely. They were not fighting for any particular political party; they were fighting for their future. Yet, already, we see political opportunists attempting to claim ownership of students’ struggles, turning the movement into a tool of political expediency. New faces are continually emerging, claiming to be the ‘masterminds’ behind the uprising. Meanwhile, our infamous political culture of extortion and land encroachment has resurfaced at the grassroots level, instigated by political parties now vying for power and control in the aftermath of the previous regime’s downfall — showing merely a shift in who holds power, rather than a departure from the corrupt political practices of the past.

What is troubling is that only two months have passed since the uprising, and the media’s gaze has already shifted elsewhere. The stories of the students and the youth — once central to the national dialogue — are being overshadowed by various agendas of political parties. If our collective memory can so easily be redirected, the questions arise: who will now bear witness to the fate of the youth who fought and sacrificed for a vision of a better Bangladesh, only to be left to grieve in a state that has yet to fully recognise their sacrifice? And what about the rest of the nation, still struggling with the aftershock of witnessing such horrific violence inflicted upon them?

The interim government recently announced rehabilitation measures for the families of those killed and pledged to cover the medical expenses of the injured. While these promises are significant, they fail to address the full spectrum of suffering. The physical toll of the uprising is devastating, but the psychological wounds — both on the individual and the collective psyche of the nation — are immeasurable. Our state, driven by capitalist imperatives and eager to resume economic normalcy, quickly reopened factories and businesses, sending people back to their 9:00am–5:00pm routines. But what of the wounds on the minds of this mass of people that remain unaddressed?

In the rush to return to economic normalcy, the deeper emotional and mental impacts of the uprising have been overlooked. The emphasis on economic recovery, while vital, has overshadowed the urgent need for psychological healing. The focus has shifted to restoring material conditions, but the mental wounds left behind by the violence continue to fester. Without addressing these psychological wounds, the government risks creating a society that is, perhaps, economically functional but emotionally fractured. The long-term stability of the nation depends not only on economic recovery but also on the healing of its people’s minds.

State-sanctioned violence has long been a persistent feature of Bangladesh’s political landscape, leaving countless individuals victimised each year. In 2023 alone, from January to September, 6,401 people were directly affected by political violence. Yet, our national discourse never addresses the need for comprehensive psychosocial rehabilitation. Even when discussions of rehabilitation emerge, they typically focus on physical recovery, overlooking the psychological wounds.

The psychological consequences of state-sanctioned violence on a nation are not mere speculation. Social scientists have long demonstrated how such violence disrupts social relationships and erodes trust within communities, leading to widespread alienation and psychological trauma. As anthropologist Veena Das (2006) argues, political violence exposes the limits of how we understand and experience life, challenging the very cultural frameworks that make life intelligible and meaningful. The emotional distress caused by political violence often breeds further cycles of alienation and resentment.

I reached out to Kazi Rumana Haque, the lead psychosocial counsellor at Moner Bondhu, for her insights. In my interview with her, she explained that many clients have been exhibiting symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder since the uprising. ‘Fear at night and sleeplessness are common,’ she said, ‘with flashbacks from the protests disturbing their sleep.’ Haque also noted anxiety and panic attacks triggered by the sound of helicopters, which remind people of the memories of gunfire from helicopters targeting innocent civilians during the uprising. She emphasised the need for support groups and professional help, explaining, ‘We collectively experienced a whirlwind of emotions — fear, grief, despair, anger, sadness — throughout the uprising. The mental toll now we are feeling is natural. Self-care, counselling, and surrounding ourselves with support can help remind us that we are not alone in it and aid in our recovery.’

While mental health platforms like Maner Bandhu have been offering specialised support to their clients since the uprising, Bangladesh still lacks a comprehensive framework for trauma counselling or mental health services for victims of political violence. Without this infrastructure, it is nearly impossible for survivors, the families of the deceased, and the nation itself to recover from such psychological trauma. The issue at hand, therefore, is not merely one of physical rehabilitation but of collective psychological healing— a process that is essential for the long-term emotional stability and well-being of the nation.

Beyond the immediate political recalibration, Bangladesh must address the questions concerning accountability, psycho-social rehabilitation, and collective healing. However, repaying the psychological debt incurred by the July uprising extends beyond the horizon of government responsibility; it is a responsibility for all who reap the benefits of the sociopolitical changes our youth fought for. It is time to initiate a national conversation on how we will confront the lasting psychological impact of state-sanctioned political violence and trauma. Without such a reckoning, without a structured response to this debt, we risk not only a fractured society but the betrayal of the very sacrifices our youth made in the pursuit of a just future.

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Nabila Tasneem Anonnya is a sociocultural anthropologist with a research focus on economy and gender.