Approaching the university ward quota debate: Rajshahi University in context

Rajshahi University has been thrown into turmoil. Following the anti-discrimination movement in Bangladesh last year, Rajshahi University cancelled the ward quota, which paved the way for easy undergraduate admission for the children of academic and administrative staff. As the staff insisted on the restoration of the quota, on 18 September, the University restored the quota upon certain conditions. It led to the students protesting against the decision.

The claim has sparked heated debates concerning merit and quotas, as staff claim the quota as their institutional right, while students argue it is a discriminatory practice. The word 'right' is the language of the Constitution, of courts, and of political struggle. In law, however, not everything we call a right is truly one. Sometimes what we call a right is merely a privilege, something enjoyed while it lasts but not guaranteed. At other times, even when no strict right exists, the law may still protect what courts call a legitimate expectation.

Two thinkers- Wesley Hohfeld, an American jurist writing a century ago, and Lord Denning, the great English judge of the mid-20th century-  help us see this explicit distinction. The write-up will discuss the two schools of thoughts.

For Hohfeld, rights are not vague slogans but precise legal relationships. A right never floats in the air; it always has a partner. If one person has a right, another carries a corresponding duty. If a worker has a right to wages, the employer has a duty to pay. If a citizen has a right to vote, the state has a duty to ensure elections are held. Without that correlative duty, there is no true right. By contrast, a privilege may mean I am free to do something, but no one else bears a duty to support or preserve it. If I have the privilege to walk on my own land, you have no right to stop me- but equally, you have no duty to ensure that I continue to own land to walk upon. Privilege is paired not with duty but with another's no-right. This distinction matters because it separates enforceable claims from negotiable benefits. Rights can be defended in all cases. Privileges can be altered or withdrawn by those who granted them.

If staff children truly had a right to reserved seats, then the university had a duty to continue providing them year after year. If, instead, the quota was a privilege, staff could enjoy it while it lasted, but the university bore no duty to maintain it once withdrawn. What does Bangladesh's Constitution say? Article 28(4) permits "special provision" for women, children, or for the advancement of backward sections of citizens. This is the legal foundation for affirmative actions. It allows the state to give disadvantaged groups a temporary headstart so that society as a whole becomes more equal. University employees' children do not fall into this category. They are not constitutionally recognised as a disadvantaged section of citizens. No duty, therefore, was imposed on Rajshahi University to sustain the quota. It was a policy choice, not a constitutional command.

On the above, from a Hohfeldian perspective, the staff quota was never a right backed by duty. It was a privilege: a discretionary benefit created by the university, paired with the no-right of outsiders to demand its continuation.

Yet Hohfeld does not end the story. Even where no legal right exists, the law sometimes recognises the unfairness of taking away a long-standing benefit without consultation. This is where Lord Denning enters the scene.

In Schmidt v Secretary of State for Home Affairs (1969), Denning planted the seed of the doctrine of legitimate expectation. This idea grew into a settled doctrine, later developed in landmark cases such as Council of Civil Service Unions v Minister for the Civil Service (1985) and R v North and East Devon Health Authority, ex parte Coughlan (2001), where courts recognised both procedural and, in limited circumstances, substantive protection of expectations.

Bangladeshi courts have embraced the doctrine, too. In Bangladesh v Idrisur Rahman (2009), for instance, the Appellate Division confirmed that clear practices and assurances from public authorities can generate legitimate expectations that deserve protection unless outweighed by compelling public interest. Similarly, in Rabia Bashri Irene v Bangladesh Biman (2000), the High Court Division ruled that an abrupt departure from established practice, without fairness or hearing, could be struck down as arbitrary.

Applied to Rajshahi, the staff quota may not have been a right in Hohfeld's sense, but its decades-long operation created reliance. Its abrupt abolition, without consultation or transitional measures, could be said to frustrate a legitimate expectation. That does not mean the quota must be restored, but it does mean the university owed its staff a fairer process in withdrawing it.

Now, the Rajshahi University dispute cannot be separated from the wider national context. On one hand, students argued that quotas not tied to present disadvantage were discriminatory, limiting opportunities for talented candidates. Their demand was for a level playing field where merit should prevail. Against that backdrop, the staff's call for a fresh quota appears rather tone-deaf. At a time when students across the country are challenging entrenched privileges, defending special preferences for relatively secure groups such as university academic and administrative staff risks fuelling resentment and undermining the legitimacy of the broader system of affirmative action.

Yet staff anger cannot be dismissed entirely. For many, the quota symbolised recognition of their contribution to the university. Its abrupt withdrawal, without dialogue or alternative benefits, was bound to create resentment. Institutions thrive on more than formal rules; they also depend on trust. When people feel their expectations are ignored, they often turn to protest and disruption- as the current boycott shows. The challenge for Rajshahi University is, therefore, twofold: to uphold fairness for the wider applicant pool while still acknowledging the loyalty and service of its staff.

The Rajshahi quota dispute is more than an internal quarrel. It is a test of how institutions in Bangladesh balance rights, privileges, and expectations. Hohfeld teaches us that without a corresponding duty, there is no right- only a privilege. Denning shows us that even privileges can ripen into legitimate expectations that require fairness in their withdrawal.

The lesson is simple but urgent: we must be precise about what counts as a right, cautious about defending privileges, and careful to respect legitimate expectations. Only then can our institutions remain both fair and trusted.

The writer is Associate Professor of Law, Rajshahi University, and a Doctoral Candidate, SOAS University of London, UK.