How Bangladeshi expatriates joined the July Uprising from afar

I was in Kuala Lumpur when I came to know that the internet had been shut down in Bangladesh. 

Then the images appeared: students being beaten, blood staining university campuses, injured protesters being carried away, and parents waiting outside hospital gates praying for their children.

I was sitting in my dorm room with three other Bangladeshi students. We stared at our phones, repeatedly refreshing the news feed, searching for updates.

We were traumatised, yes, but more importantly, we felt helpless.

By then, I had lived in Malaysia for four years. Being the president of the Students' Association of Bangladesh in Malaysia, I was used to helping students go through academic, administrative and other issues. But nothing had prepared us for what happened in July 2024.

Until that moment, I thought I knew the distance between "us" and "them" — between expatriates living abroad and the people back home.

But I was wrong. The illusion shattered in July.

When the streets of Dhaka and cities across Bangladesh erupted over the quota reform movement, those of us living abroad could no longer remain spectators. We watched students facing bullets, batons, and arrests. We saw the authorities attempt to isolate them by shutting down the internet and cutting off the country from the outside world.

The distance between Bangladesh and the rest of the world suddenly felt unbearable. But it also gave rise to a determination shared by expatriates across the world: if we could not stand beside the protesters in Bangladesh, we would stand for them wherever we were.

In Malaysia, we began contacting Bangladeshi student organisations, community representatives and university groups across the country. We called for nationwide protests on 19 July 2024. The response was far greater than what we had anticipated.

Students from more than 40 universities answered the call. On the same day, Bangladeshi students held demonstrations across Malaysia, raising their voices and expressing solidarity with the protesters back home.

That's not all; different student groups and expatriate communities coordinated their activities and exchanged information. Social media groups became organising spaces. 

People who had never met worked together because they shared the same fear, anger and responsibility towards Bangladesh.

Bangladeshi diaspora communities were organising rallies, issuing statements, contacting international organisations and attempting to draw global attention to the crackdown.

The movement abroad became increasingly coordinated. It was through this global coordination that another idea began gaining momentum: a shutdown of remittances.

Withholding remittance as a form of protest

Remittance is often described as the fuel of Bangladesh's foreign currency reserves, a lifeline for millions of families and one of the most important pillars of the national economy. Migrant workers endure separation, exploitation and immense personal hardship to send money home.

In July 2024, however, remittance became something more. The decision to withhold remittances became a powerful form of protest.

Abdul Bashir, a construction worker in Malaysia, posted on Facebook, "They [the Hasina government] are using our money to shoot and kill our sons. I will not send a single penny to this country. My brother is a college student, and he has been arrested on a fake case just because he was a part of the protest."

A vast majority of the expatriates supported the student movement, protested against the government's undemocratic practices and atrocities. There were also campaigns against sending remittances to Bangladesh because of the government's actions.

Asad Islam, Professor, Monash Business School

The feeling was likewise for thousands of expatriate workers across the world.

From Saudi Arabia, businessman Walid Bhuiyan made the sentiment even clearer during a Facebook Live broadcast.

"I know if we do not send remittance, the Bangladeshi economy will get destroyed, but we want this regime to get destroyed too. Then we will work even harder and send more money to rebuild our nation. But Hasina must go!"

In the United Arab Emirates, placards at protest rallies carried similarly uncompromising messages: "I will throw my money in the water, but I will not send remittance."

From 19 to 24 July 2024, Bangladesh received only $78 million in remittances. The figure was particularly striking because the daily average during the first 18 days of the month had reportedly been around $79 million. In effect, the amount normally received in a single day arrived over the course of six days.

Part of the decline was initially attributed to the nationwide internet blackout. Banking systems were disrupted, communication between expatriates and their families became difficult, and many financial transactions could not be completed.

But the numbers did not immediately recover after broadband services returned and banks resumed operations.

According to Bangladesh Bank, the country received $1.5 billion in remittances during the first 24 days of July. The previous month, Bangladesh had received $2.54 billion—the highest monthly figure in 47 months. Reports at the time described the decline as a 10.27% month-to-month fall.

The disruption was therefore not merely technical. It was deliberate, coordinated and political.

Bangladeshi students abroad were among the most vocal supporters of the uprising.

Across Europe, the Middle East, the UK, the US and Southeast Asia, expatriates rallied under the slogan of "no remittance until reform."

In cities such as Kuala Lumpur and Abu Dhabi, protesters marched with Bangladeshi flags, banners and raised fists. Those unable to protest publicly found other ways to participate. Some shared information online. Some contacted international media.

Expatriate worker Mehedi Hasan explained how some migrants intended to keep supporting their families without allowing their money to enter the country through formal banking channels.

"If we send money through legal channels or banks, the government will get the remittance. So we will send the money through Hundi. Yes, it costs us more, but the main goal is not to give a single dime to this government."

Selim Hossain, an expatriate living in Oman, described the decision to stop using official channels.

"In six years, I have always used official channels to send money. But the torture of my brothers and sisters by police, BDR and Army made me stop. This boycott is our answer."

According to Selim, at least 150 people he knew in Oman had joined the boycott, while as many as 300 others shifted to informal channels such as Hundi.

The economic impact of withholding remittance soon became visible. Bangladesh Bank acknowledged that remittance operations were effectively suspended from 18 to 23 July during the internet shutdown. Even after services resumed, inflows remained weak.

According to Bangladesh Bank, remittances totalled about $1.91 billion in July, the lowest monthly inflow in ten months. The decline was stark compared with $2.04 billion in April, $2.25 billion in May and a record $2.54 billion in June.

As pressure mounted, the government and financial service providers tried to persuade expatriates to resume sending money. Eventually, then state minister Zunaid Ahmed Palak appealed to migrant workers to resume sending money. 

Many expatriates, however, remained unconvinced. To them, patriotism could not mean sending money while students were being beaten, arrested and killed. The balance of power began to shift. 

Professor Asad Islam of Monash Business School observed, "A vast majority of the expatriates supported the student movement, protested against the government's undemocratic practices and atrocities. There were also campaigns against sending remittances to Bangladesh because of the government's actions."

For participants, the boycott was not meant to damage Bangladesh but to save it.

The cost of activism

In many Middle Eastern countries, where public protest is heavily restricted, expatriates risked arrest, deportation, job loss and damage to their immigration status. 

In the UAE, 57 Bangladeshis received lengthy prison sentences for organising demonstrations. Elsewhere, strict laws limited public protests, but many continued to resist through quieter forms of organisation and solidarity.

As the diaspora movement grew, authorities also sought to identify and intimidate protesters abroad. Activists were reportedly traced through videos, television footage, police reports and information from Awami League supporters. Cases were filed against organisers, including people who had demonstrated outside Bangladesh.

The pressure was real. Expatriates knew their names and speeches were being documented. Many feared returning home, while others worried their families in Bangladesh could face harassment.

But the crackdown had the opposite effect. Every attempt to silence expatriates only strengthened their resolve. 

The movement also exposed a long-standing contradiction. Migrant workers are often neglected, underrepresented in policymaking and poorly served by officials, yet in every national crisis the country turns to them. Their earnings sustain families, strengthen foreign exchange reserves and support the economy, but their political voices are rarely valued with the same respect.

The remittance boycott also came at a heavy personal cost. Families still needed food, rent, tuition and medical care, forcing many expatriates to find alternative ways to support relatives without using official financial channels.