—Syed Tahmeed Hossain, Law graduate—American International University-Bangladesh
Bangladesh’s Electoral Reform Commission recommended in January 2025 that voters should be able to recall members of Parliament between elections, a mechanism that has never existed in South Asian constitutional history. The proposal is both overdue and perilous. Overdue because Article 70, the Constitution’s rigid anti-defection clause that penalizes any deviation from the party line with loss of seat, has severed the link between MPs and their constituents for over fifty years, turning the Jatiya Sangsad into a rubber stamp for whichever party holds power. Perilous because a poorly designed recall mechanism, as comparative experience from the United States, Latin America, and elsewhere shows, can become a weapon of partisan harassment rather than a tool of democratic accountability. Getting the design right matters more than getting it quickly.
The right to recall allows voters to remove an elected official before the end of their term through a petition and special election. Its intellectual ancestry traces back to Rousseau’s Social Contract (1762), which argued that sovereignty remains permanently with the people. A 2024 study in the American Political Science Review by Arthur Ghins confirmed that Rousseau specifically envisioned “scrutiny and recall” as mechanisms for popular control over government. In practice, recall embodies the delegate model of representation: officials are agents of the electorate, not independent trustees free to ignore their voters between elections. Recall provisions exist across a wide range of democracies, from nineteen U.S. states to Bolivia, Peru, Ecuador, Taiwan, and several Canadian provinces and Swiss cantons, each with distinct rules and outcomes.
Nineteen American laboratories
The United States is the world’s most extensively studied testing ground for recall. Nineteen states allow the recall of state-level officials, while 39 permit it at the local level. No two systems are identical. California’s Article II, §§13-19, requires signatures from just 12% of voters in the last election and imposes no grounds requirement; this state’s constitution also explicitly provides that “sufficiency of reason is not reviewable.” Kansas demands signatures of 40% of voters and requires proof of a felony conviction, misconduct, or incompetence. Wisconsin and Colorado require signatures of 25% of voters, with Wisconsin’s Article XIII, §12, additionally requiring one year of public service before the official can be subject to recall and limiting the use of this mechanism to one per term.
Federal officials are immune. The Supreme Court’s reasoning in U.S. Term Limits, Inc. v. Thornton (514 U.S. 779, 1995), that states cannot impose qualifications on federal officeholders beyond those in the Constitution, was applied directly in Committee to Recall Robert Menendez v. Wells (204 N.J. 79, 2010) to strike down New Jersey’s attempt to authorize recall of U.S. Landmark cases illustrate both the promise and the cost. In 2003, California voters recalled Governor Gray Davis over the electricity crisis and budget deficit; 55.4% voted for his removal, and Arnold Schwarzenegger won the replacement contest among 135 candidates. In Wisconsin in 2011, nine state senators faced recall over Governor Walker’s anti-union legislation, Act 10, which stripped most public-sector workers of collective bargaining rights; two were removed. Colorado’s 2013 recall ousted two senators for supporting gun control. California’s 2021 attempt to recall Governor Newsom failed decisively but cost $276 million, demonstrating that even unsuccessful recalls carry serious fiscal consequences.
Beyond the United States
The American experience is not the only one to showcase the workings of the political recall mechanism: various Latin American countries similarly provide for such mechanisms in their constitutional order. In Bolivia, the 2009 Constitution permits recall of elected officials after half-term, requiring 15% of voter signatures, and Venezuela permits recall of officials in the mid-term in its 1999 Constitution, requiring 20% of voter signatures. Opposition groups triggered a recall referendum against President Hugo Chavez in 2004, though 59% of voters chose to keep him in office. The episode nonetheless demonstrated that recall mechanisms can function as a meaningful democratic check on presidential power. Recalls have also been used in politically polarized countries such as Bolivia, where ruling parties use the tool against opposition officials, and it has been questioned whether the people are indeed empowered or their tool is being used to score political points. These lessons form a key part in the political reform strategy of Bangladesh.
The Article 70 problem
Bangladesh’s need for recall is rooted in a specific constitutional pathology. Article 70, enacted in 1972, provides that any MP who votes against their nominating party forfeits their seat. The provision was designed to prevent “floor-crossing”- the practice whereby legislators switched party allegiance in exchange for patronage, destabilizing governments and making coalition politics chaotic. Its actual effect has been to make the parliament a captive of the executive. No confidence motions are practically impossible. MPs answer to party supremos, not to the 300 constituencies they represent. Between elections – which in recent Bangladeshi history have been marred by boycotts, manipulation, and serious questions about competitiveness – voters have had no institutional tools to discipline their representatives.
The July-August 2024 uprising, which toppled Sheikh Hasina’s sixteen-year regime and cost over 1,400 lives, brought this accountability deficit into sharp focus. The interim government under Muhammad Yunus established reform commissions for the constitution, the electoral system, the judiciary, and several other areas. Among the electoral commission’s recommendations was the recall of MPs.
The Bangladeshi proposal
The Electoral Reform Commission’s proposed design is far more restrictive than any American or Latin American model. Recalls during the first and last year of an MP’s tenure would be prohibited. Its use requires a petition that must be signed by no less than one-third of all registered voters in the constituency, enormously more than even the 40 percent of all Kansas voters who turned out to vote, because there is a big disparity between registered and actual voters. A recall petition should state clear grounds – such as corruption, abuse of power, or constitutional violations. Any vote is not made before the request is assessed by the election commission. A majority of the constituency’s voters (51%) are necessary to remove the sitting member by a recall vote.
These thresholds were clearly conceived by the commission as requirements to avoid unwarranted costs and instability in politics. Such caution is understandable in a nation where political mobilization has always been founded on conflict. But one wonders whether these stringent requirements reduce the mechanism to a mere ornament? When recall is practically infeasible to implement, its inclusion in the constitution can gratify reformers at a nominal level even as it has no effect on the actual balance of power between MPs and voters.
Three structural differences that matter
Transplanting democratic practices from established democracies to Bangladesh is not a simple copy-and-paste exercise. Three features of the Bangladesh context are critical to assessing the likely impact of the transplant.
First, the Article 70 paradox. American and Latin American legislators routinely vote against their parties; the recall mechanism holds them popularly accountable for choices they freely make. Bangladeshi MPs cannot vote against their party without losing their seats. What, then, would voters recall them for? The answer depends on the July Charter of 2025, which proposes modifying Article 70 to allow free voting on all matters except money bills and confidence motions. This Charter was endorsed by 24 parties and put to a constitutional referendum in February 2026, held alongside national elections, where 61% of voters reportedly endorsed the reform package. The legitimacy of that referendum has, however, been questioned due to it being held under an interim government and the lack of an electoral infrastructure, which may have confused voters about the specific reforms they were approving. A true reform of Article 70 could justify a recall mechanism to hold MPs accountable for misusing their power, whereas maintaining Article 70 as is would provide insufficient grounds for effecting popular accountability through such a mechanism.
Second, institutional capacity. American recall elections are administered by professional, well-resourced election offices. Bangladesh’s Election Commission, although constitutionally independent under Articles 118-126 of the Constitution, has historically been subordinated to the interests of the ruling party. The Constitutional Reform Commission recommended a National Constitutional Council (NCC) – composed of representatives from across the executive, legislature, judiciary, and opposition – to oversee appointments to key bodies like the Election Commission. The credibility of the recall mechanism depends on whether this proposed institutional reform takes hold. Without genuinely independent election administration, recall petitions risk being blocked when they target ruling-party MPs and fast-tracked when they target opposition figures.
Third, entrenchment in the constitution. Article II of California and Article XIII of Wisconsin in the US allow recall, so it is very hard to revoke or amend. In the case of Bangladesh, however, the proposal is based on a recommendation by the Electoral Reform Commission and, if accepted, would be given effect in statute. A statutory recall mechanism would be ruinously weak considering the history of the country in terms of constitutional amendments to benefit the incumbent president – consider for instance, the 5th Amendment, which ratified martial law decrees. Constitutional entrenchment is the only way the mechanism can be made to be durable.
Getting the safeguards right
Experiences with the recall mechanism elsewhere offer clear lessons for calibrating its design, thresholds, and safeguards. California’s low threshold has invited expensive and arguably frivolous recalls; the Little Hoover Commission’s 2022 report recommended shifting to 10% of registered voters. Bangladesh’s proposed one-third threshold may overcorrect in the opposite direction. A range of 20%–25% of registered voters, higher than any U.S. state but lower than the Electoral Reform Commission’s proposal, would better balance accessibility with seriousness. This range is supported by the Latin American experience: Bolivia’s 15% has arguably been too low, while thresholds above 30% have never been successfully triggered in any jurisdiction that provides for the recall mechanism.
Bangladesh’s exclusion of the use of the mechanism during the first and last year of an MP’s tenure is a sound policy. Cross-party signature requirements also deserve consideration; one California reform proposal would require 25% of petition signatures to come from voters of the recalled official’s own party, preventing one party from weaponizing recall against the other’s MPs. In Bangladesh’s deeply polarized landscape, this safeguard could be essential.
The political economy of the recall election suggests that there is a possibility that this mechanism can be manipulated by the wealthy and well-organized interests. The failed recall of Governor Newsom, which cost California taxpayers $276 million, is a stark reminder of how expensive these efforts can be-even when they change nothing. Bangladesh ought to put into effect campaign finance laws on recall elections and consider the possibilities of public financing so that the recall right is not an attractive privilege for only those who can afford it. Finally, the targeted MP should be entitled to due process entitlements: a formal right of response on the ballot (Colorado provides a 300-word justification), campaign finance protections, and media access. Recall is an extraordinary measure. This must be surrounded by ordinary procedural fairness.
Architecture, not theatre
Bangladesh is currently on the cusp of the first major redesign of its Constitution in 53 years. The July Charter suggests a two-house Parliament, limits on the terms of the prime minister, an increase in presidential authority, and a revised Article 70. Part of this broad agenda is the introduction of a recall mechanism, which seeks to respond to a failure that can be identified and remedied: a complete lack of inter-election popular accountability. As the experience in several American states and Latin America countries demonstrates, such a mechanism can accomplish a lot, but it can also degenerate into an expensive political drama that merely disrupts governance without creating accountability.
In the case of Bangladesh, any recall mechanism needs to be constitutionally entrenched to survive further changes of government; it requires the institutional autonomy of the Election Commission to be tasked with running it; it needs honestly calibrated thresholds that cannot be weaponized while ensuring the prospect of its actually use; and it needs campaign finance regulations to ensure that recalls are not bought by moneyed interests. The students that flooded the streets of Dhaka in July 2024 wanted a democracy whereby the power is responsive, not just during election season. The right to recall, when it is designed well, can be one of the meaningful mechanisms to contribute to the creation of such a democracy.
Suggested citation: Syed Tahmeed Hossain, Democracy Between Elections: Can the Right to Recall Fix Bangladesh’s Broken Accountability Chain? Int’l J. Const. L. Blog, Apr. 11, 2026, at: http://www.iconnectblog.com/democracy-between-elections-can-the-right-to-recall-fix-bangladeshs-broken-accountability-chain/