A Dhaka politician yet untainted by allegations of corruption, a member of the last Parliament, and not of Awami League told me: "Don't restrain Hasina, let her speak her mind. She is the only voice of democracy in the country." He went on to complain that most politicians who matter are either compromised or are in fear of punishment for their past wrong-doings. A mixture of favour and fear has cowed them down. The only exception is Sheikh Hasina, so she should not be silenced or marginalized.

A businessman friend with ostensible links with the powers that be cautioned me of the fate of the top politicians and asked me to ask Sheikh Hasina to shut up completely. The businessman had excellent links with the BNP government earlier and was a well-wisher of Sheikh Hasina. I sensed exasperation in his voice: "Why does Hasina have to comment on Tuku's (ex-state minister Iqbal Mahmud of BNP) children?" Yet, I was told only the other day by a banker friend that Hasina's concern over Tuku's children being sent to jail earned her respect even among those who are generally critical of her.

I was not surprised by the sharpness of the differences of interpretations of events in Bangladesh politics. Bangladesh politics is made up of sharp differences, surprises, and returning to the well-trodden, failed paths of the past.

When I quoted the "voice of democracy" sobriquet to a university professor of English, who was narrating to me the litany of "reckless statements" of Hasina, he dismissed it as nonsense. I was afraid to share with him what my politician friend told me about the future of Hasina. He told me that the time has come for Hasina to choose whether she wants to be Bangabandhu or not. If she maintains her defiance and stands her ground she will be another Bangabandhu, if she fails to perform this historic role she will be quickly forgotten as another compromised politician.

Now what is the future of Bangladesh, at least politically? Is there light at the end of the tunnel?

Some worry that Bangladesh may be heading for a soft authoritarianism replacing a dysfunctional democracy. The statement by the army chief on the need for a freedom of information act is both encouraging and baffling. Encouraging because it reinforces the commitment of a professional army to strengthen the institution of democracy, and baffling to those skeptics who see the eclipse of democracy writ large. Is it possible for the caretaker government to reformat the political system with a limited mandate, however well-meaning they may be?

When the caretaker government assumed office on 1/11, the metaphor used was of a derailed train being winched back onto the rails. So the job was limited, as indicated by the metaphor. The train driver and the crane operator have two separate roles. A businessman confided in me his conversation with a military officer, when the officer told him that the military is called upon to manage all kinds of jobs, like traffic control, crime control, fighting terrorists and disaster response.

This shows the failure of the civilian governments as it, indeed, shows the capacity of the military to deal with all these crises. So, if the military has the skill and capacity to do the job why can't they rule more permanently? A convincing argument that sold my businessman relative to the idea of the military taking over the government on a long-term basis.

But as I told him: "it is only when there is a fire in my house that I call the firemen who come to my help, take risks, put out the fire, and then return to their station." He was now not very sure, and conceded that the political future looks uncertain.

When I narrated this conversation to a leftist leader, Fazle Hossain Badsha, he agreed with me and added that it would be like the firemen wanting to stay in the house on the ground that they put out the fire. And, I thought, their living in the house would prevent future fire hazards. Fortunately, this has not come about yet. But would they still be firemen if they became occupants of that house?

As I rode on a black taxi I asked the driver about his opinion on the post 1/11 situation. He said: "all I care for is two hands-full of rice (du muttho annaya)." Sensing his predictable grumbling about the high prices of everyday essentials, I asked: "Is that all?" "Not really," he added, "if there is rampant crime and disorder in the country the money I earn from you would be robbed by someone and I will go hungry." So we need it all: orderly society and democratic polity. The problem is: nobody seems to know how or when.

Habibul Haque Khondker is a sociologist.