A political storm is swirling in the country over a simple flower.

The National Citizen Party (NCP), a newly formed group born from recent youth-led protests, has fixated on the Shapla (water lily) as its electoral emblem.

This demand, which may seem symbolic in more ways than one, has pitted the fledgling party against the Election Commission (EC) in a high-stakes tussle.

The latest twist came on Thursday when the EC, instead of granting the full-bloom Shapla, added a “Shapla Koli” (water lily bud) to the official list of election symbols.

The NCP’s reaction was swift and scathing: “We do not accept the symbol ‘Shapla Koli’. We want only ‘Shapla’,” declared Zahirul Islam Musa, an NCP joint member secretary, in an immediate reaction.

This seemingly arcane dispute over a flower emblem carries weighty implications.

At its heart lie questions of national identity, political symbolism, and fairness in the run-up to Bangladesh’s coming general election.

With roughly 150 new parties applying for registration amid an unprecedented political transition, the water lily saga has fast become a litmus test of how the Election Commission balances legal constraints with public sentiment.

As one observer quipped on social media: “What’s in a Shapla? Apparently, the fate of a party.”

National emblem vs party symbol

Prof Dr Abdul Latif Masum, at the Department of Government and Politics at Jahangirnagar University, explained the symbolic weight behind the NCP’s insistence on the Shapla flower as its electoral emblem.

“They want to align their politics with a national symbol that’s widely recognized, something people have seen on currency and in everyday life. It carries emotional value and can attract voters,” he told Dhaka Tribune.

He said that the NCP, having led the July student uprising, is likely seeking to leverage that momentum.

“They want to capitalize on their role in the movement,” he added.

The Shapla (water lily) lies at the heart of Bangladesh’s national emblem, floating on gentle waves and encircled by rice stalks and jute leaves.

It’s not only the national flower, but also an icon found on currency notes, passports, and official insignia across the country.

This exalted status is precisely why election authorities have balked at letting any one party monopolize it.

The EC cites the law, Article 4 of the National Emblem Rules 1972, which declares the emblem a “dignified symbol” reserved for state use, not to be “demoted” for other purposes.

In other words, turning the Shapla into a party logo could violate rules that protect national symbols from unauthorized use.

Election Commissioner Abdur Rahman El Masud put it bluntly back in July: “We’ve already decided in principle that the water lily will not be included in the [electoral] symbol list, primarily because it is part of the national emblem.”

The Chief Election Commissioner (CEC) himself reiterated that stance, stressing that “Shapla will not be part of our official schedule as an election symbol.”

Constitutional expert Shahdeen Malik underscores this logic.

Citing Bangladesh’s constitution and the 1972 Emblem Order, Malik notes that the national emblem is explicitly defined around the Shapla, making it off-limits for partisan appropriation.

Former bureaucrat and election analyst Abu Alam Shahid Khan agrees, pointing out that the water lily is the centrepiece of the emblem, far more prominent than the flanking rice ears or jute leaves, and thus should not be handed to any single party as its electoral badge.

In their view, allowing a party to campaign under the Shapla banner would effectively tether a national icon to a narrow political interest, blurring the line between state symbolism and party branding.

Why NCP wants Shapla?

Despite legal hurdles, the NCP insists on the water lily as its electoral symbol, citing deep emotional and political resonance.

“The Shapla reflects rural Bengal and the soul of our landscape—it should be reflected in politics,” said Convener Nahid Islam.

For a grassroots party born from the July Uprising, the flower symbolizes purity, resilience, and a new beginning.

Strategically, the Shapla offers strong recall among semi-literate voters, much like the Boat or Sheaf of Paddy.

NCP leaders believe its familiarity can galvanize support, especially as the party gains traction. During mass rallies, water lily imagery became a unifying motif.

The symbol is also contested.

Nagorik Oikya and Bangladesh Congress have both laid claim to it, underscoring its political value.

Congress, denied the emblem in 2017, now cites historical usage to stake a fresh claim.

The scramble reveals just how coveted the Shapla has become.

Symbolism, semantics, and social media

The Shapla saga has spilled far beyond EC meeting rooms, igniting impassioned debates on Facebook and in tea stalls alike.

Supporters of NCP accuse the Election Commission of inconsistency and unfairness.

They point to glaring precedents: several elements of the national emblem, aside from the lily, are already used as party symbols.

The sheaf of paddy, for instance, flanking the Shapla on the emblem, has long been the electoral symbol of the Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP).

A single star, another component of the emblem, is used by the Jatiya Samajtantrik Dal (JSD).

The country’s national fruit, the jackfruit, appears as a symbol for a faction of a Jatiya Party.

Even the “golden fibre,” jute, which rises above the lily on the emblem, has been allotted to a political party – Trinamool BNP.

Given these cases, NCP argues there’s “no legal barrier” to listing the water lily as well.

If paddy stalks and jackfruits can adorn ballot papers, why not the lotus?, they ask.

NCP’s legal letter to the EC in late September contended that the water lily in the national emblem is depicted in a very specific manner, “floating on water” with a particular color, implying that a party logo could use a stylized or differently colored Shapla to avoid an identical likeness.

Indeed, the party went so far as to submit alternative designs for the symbol: red petals, white petals, different artistic renditions, a creative plea for compromise.

Former election commissioner Jasmine Tully acknowledged these arguments but remained unconvinced.

Even if one considers Shapla “merely” the national flower, she argues, granting it to a party would effectively tether a national icon to that party’s fortune, a step she believes is unwise and unwarranted.

On the other side of the aisle, many Bangladeshis feel a visceral discomfort at the thought of their beloved Shapla turning into a partisan logo.

Social media posts and opinion columns have echoed a common refrain: the Shapla belongs to the nation, not any party.

Some recall that Bangladesh’s constitution itself describes the national emblem as centered on a water lily, embraced by rice sheaves and topped with jute leaves and stars.

For them, seeing that very flower stamped on campaign posters risks cheapening a state symbol – or worse, politicizing a unifying emblem.

The EC’s ‘budding’ compromise

Caught between political pressure and legal principle, the Election Commission tried to find a middle ground – quite literally a half-bloomed one.

On October 30, the EC issued a gazette expanding its list of electoral symbols from 115 to 119. Among the four new symbols added was the “Water Lily Bud” (Shapla Koli).

The subtle message: parties could have a bud, but not the fully open flower.

Election officials portrayed this as a routine update “to modernize and diversify” the pool of symbols for a surge of new parties.

But few missed the significance of Shapla Koli’s inclusion.

It was widely seen as an attempt to placate the NCP’s demand without crossing the red line of authorizing the actual emblem.

The CEC, at a press briefing earlier, had hinted that if the Shapla ever made it into the symbol list, deciding who would get it could be tricky with multiple claimants.

By offering the bud, a not-quite-Shapla, the EC perhaps hoped to dodge that fight altogether.

The gambit, however, appears to have failed.

NCP leaders immediately rejected the bud outright, dismissing it as an inadequate substitute.

After months of petitioning, letter-writing, and even designing logos, the party was in no mood for a consolation prize.

This stance is not mere stubbornness; NCP has tied its very identity to the lotus flower symbol.

As far back as early October, NCP’s Chief Coordinator Nasiruddin Patwary warned that the party “will not accept registration without the Shapla symbol. We’ll wait for a month.”

That month of waiting has now elapsed, and the EC’s bud offer clearly hasn’t satisfied them.

Historical echoes

The wrangle over the water lily is novel, but fights over electoral symbols are not new in this part of the world.

History offers a precedent where no one got what they wanted.

In the 1950s, multiple Indian parties vied for the “Plough” symbol – a dispute so heated that election authorities ultimately denied the Plough to all of them, assigning alternative symbols to each.

A similar scenario played out in what is now Bangladesh during the 1954 elections: the United Front coalition asked for the Plough, but was refused on principle and took the “Boat” (Nouka) instead.

Tellingly, that Boat later became the enduring symbol of the Awami League.

The lesson? When too many clamor for one emblem, the referee often throws it out of play.

We may be witnessing a repeat: by adding Shapla Koli and steadfastly excluding Shapla itself, the EC has effectively signaled that no party shall sail to power on the Shapla – at least not this election.

For the NCP, however, the symbol saga has become a make-or-break moment.

Having cleared the initial hurdles for registration the party now finds its electoral debut in limbo over this issue.

The EC has bluntly stated that it will not register NCP unless they choose an available symbol.

In late September, officials even attached a list of 50 alternative symbols, everything from “dish and bowl” to “inkpot with pen,” urging NCP to pick one.

But NCP held out, sending back only Shapla designs and reasserting their lone choice.

Such intransigence is risky: if NCP doesn’t relent, it could be barred from the upcoming polls entirely, dashing the aspirations of its many young activists.

Top NCP figures have hinted at drastic measures if they are denied.

“Since there is no legal barrier, the NCP must get the Shapla… unless we get it, we will see how the election is held,” threatened NCP’s Sarjis Alam on social media, suggesting the party could even disrupt the polls in protest.

This confrontational posture speaks to the deep trust deficit between new opposition forces and the election authorities in Bangladesh’s charged climate.

What’s next in the ‘Shapla’ standoff?

Prof Dr Masum cautioned that the Shapla and its variants should not be treated as interchangeable, and it remains to be seen whether the party can secure the exact symbol it seeks.

“Whether they succeed depends on whether they pursue it through institutional channels or mass mobilization,” he added.

With the election clock ticking, the 13th national polls are expected by early 2026, the Shapla symbol standoff has entered a decisive phase.

The Election Commission insists it is acting on principle and law, not bending to any political pressure in keeping the water lily off-limits.

“No one pressured us into including ‘Shapla Koli’,” EC Secretary Akhtar Ahmed asserted, implying the bud was an internal decision and not a concession to NCP’s protests.

Yet, the optics of the situation are delicate.

If NCP backs down and picks a different emblem (say, the pen or mobile phone it listed as backups), it may come across to supporters as a defeat – a revolutionary party forced to contest under a bland symbol, shorn of the romance of the Shapla.

On the other hand, if the EC were to suddenly yield and grant the full Shapla, it could face criticism for setting a precedent of bending rules under pressure, not to mention upsetting other parties that showed interest in the symbol.

There is a potential middle path: continued negotiation.

The law does allow the EC to amend its symbol list (indeed, it just did so to add the bud).

Some analysts speculate that behind closed doors, a deal could be struck – perhaps NCP agreeing to the bud symbol or a similarly evocative emblem (a compromise flower, so to speak) in exchange for prompt registration.

Another scenario could involve the interim government or elder statesmen mediating, given the high public interest in the issue.

For now, though, the NCP appears to be betting that the power of public sentiment will bolster its case.

Every day that the Shapla dispute makes headlines is a day the young party broadcasts its narrative: that it’s fighting an “institutional autocracy” at the EC, standing on principle where others yielded.