The Family Business: From Biman Airlines to the Prime Minister’s Office — How One Family Looted a Country Across Three Generations

Shamim Iskander looted Biman. His son runs “independent” media. His sister’s son became Prime Minister. The family that stole together now rules together. And nobody wants to talk about it.

I need you to follow a thread with me.

It starts at Biman Bangladesh Airlines in 2001, winds through a discharged corruption case in 2025, passes through a digital media outlet in London, and ends at the Prime Minister’s office in 2026. It’s the same thread. The same family. The same story of how Bangladesh’s political dynasty doesn’t just hold power — it monetizes it, generation after generation, and then rebrands itself to do it all over again.

We’ve spent the last eight articles in this series exposing different angles of BNP’s return to power — the institutional capture, the press freedom erosion, the security state continuity, the development narrative. Each one could stand alone. But this article is different. This one connects the dots from the past to the present, from the father to the son, from the crime to the cover-up, from the looted airline to the propaganda outlet to the Prime Minister’s residence.

This is the Iskander family. And this is how they turned Bangladesh into a family business.

Act One: The Brother Who Looted an Airline

Let’s start with what we know.

Shamim Iskander is Khaleda Zia’s younger brother. That sentence alone should tell you most of what you need to know about how power works in Bangladesh. But let me fill in the rest.

When Khaleda Zia became Prime Minister in 2001, her brother Shamim — a former Biman flight engineer with no particular qualifications for running an airline — became the undeclared owner of Biman Bangladesh Airlines. Not the CEO. Not the chairman. The owner. He controlled aircraft leasing, staff appointments, dismissals, transfers, and procurement. Every major decision at Biman went through Shamim.

The numbers are staggering. Over five years, Shamim’s influence at Biman resulted in:

Tk 250 crore in aircraft leases — for planes that could have been purchased outright for less. Biman leased aircraft at inflated rates from companies connected to Shamim’s associates, paying far more than market value for planes that were often defective or past their service life.

Tk 40 crore in commissions — siphoned through Shamim’s network. These weren’t subtle, sophisticated financial instruments. These were direct kickbacks on aircraft leases, maintenance contracts, and procurement deals.

Tk 100 crore in unnecessary costs — from a defective Airbus leased from the United States that had a market value of only Tk 62 crore. Biman paid nearly double what the plane was worth, and it spent five years hemorrhaging money on maintenance for a lemon that should never have been leased in the first place.

And then there was the unnecessary Boeing 747 lease, the maintenance kickbacks funneled through Shamim’s brother-in-law Shamsul Haque (who fled the country after January 11, 2007 and is now in London), and the wholesale control of Biman’s workforce — Shamim decided who got hired, who got fired, who got promoted, and who got transferred to the routes where the real money changed hands.

By 2006, Biman’s own pilots and employees had had enough. They nearly lynched him. I’m not being rhetorical — there were physical confrontations. Biman staff, the people who actually kept the airline flying while Shamim was stripping it for parts, revolted against their undeclared owner. This was a man who had no official position at the airline, no airline management experience, and no accountability to anyone except his sister the Prime Minister.

When the caretaker government took over after 1/11, the Anti-Corruption Commission finally moved. On May 5, 2008, a case was filed against Shamim Iskander and his wife Kaniz Fatema. On July 18, 2008, he was arrested by joint forces. On August 18, 2008, a charge sheet was filed with 36 witnesses. The charges: Tk 1.33 crore in illegal acquisition and Tk 81.81 lakh in concealment.

Thirty-six witnesses. A sitting Prime Minister’s brother. An airline looted for half a decade. Open and shut, right?

Right?

Act Two: The Discharge

On March 25, 2025, a Dhaka court discharged Shamim Iskander from the corruption case.

Discharged. Not acquitted after a full trial. Not found innocent. Discharged — meaning the court decided there wasn’t enough evidence to even proceed to trial. With 36 witnesses listed. With documented financial irregularities. With a brother-in-law who fled the country rather than face investigation.

How do you discharge a case with 36 witnesses? How do you look at the paper trail — the aircraft leases, the commission payments, the defective planes, the flight engineer who somehow became the most powerful man at the national airline — and conclude there’s nothing worth investigating?

You do it the same way every powerful person in Bangladesh has ever gotten away with corruption: you wait until your family is back in power, you let the political winds shift, and you let the courts — staffed by judges appointed or influenced by your family — make the problem go away.

Because here’s what happened between 2008 and 2025. The Awami League government pursued the case for a while, then let it languish. The courts slow-walked it. The ACC, under successive governments, didn’t exactly fight to keep it alive. And then, after the July 2024 uprising brought BNP back to power, the case was discharged in March 2025 — four months after Khaleda Zia’s death in December 2025, during a period when BNP was consolidating power and systematically clearing every legal obstacle facing their leaders.

This isn’t a coincidence. This is the pattern. We documented it in our article on the Great Acquittal — every BNP-era conviction from the 1/11 period has been overturned, discharged, or quashed since BNP returned to power. Every single one. Tarique Rahman’s money laundering conviction? Gone. The August 21 grenade attack convictions? Gone. Shamim Iskander’s corruption case? Gone.

The courts didn’t suddenly discover new evidence proving innocence. The political context changed. And the courts, which have always been responsive to political power in Bangladesh, responded accordingly.

But the discharge isn’t even the most brazen part of this story. The most brazen part came next.

In March 2026, Shamim Iskander sat in the VIP gallery at the 13th Parliament’s inaugural session. The man who looted Biman Airlines. The man whose corruption case was just discharged. The man who should have been facing trial, if not prison. He sat in the VIP gallery of Bangladesh’s Parliament, an honored guest of the government his sister’s party now leads.

From accused to VIP. From flight engineer to kingmaker. From the man who nearly destroyed Bangladesh’s national airline to a man whose family now runs the country.

If you want to understand how corruption works in Bangladesh, don’t look at the bribes. Don’t look at the kickbacks. Don’t even look at the Tk 250 crore. Look at the VIP gallery. Look at the discharge order. Look at the system that transforms a corruption case into a parliament seating assignment. That’s the mechanism. That’s how it works. Not in the shadows — in the spotlight, with everyone watching, daring anyone to say something.

Act Three: The Son Who Runs “Independent” Media

Now let me introduce you to the next generation.

Fasbeer Eskander — also spelled Fasbir Iskander — is Shamim Iskander’s son. He’s Khaleda Zia’s nephew. And in November 2020, he co-founded a digital media outlet called The Front Page.

Let me be clear about what The Front Page has achieved, because this article isn’t about diminishing their work product. With 212,000 Instagram followers, 14,000 posts, brand partnerships with Coca-Cola, Nestlé, Walton, and Mojo, and a Study UK Alumni Award for Business and Innovation, The Front Page is objectively one of the most successful digital media startups in Bangladesh’s history. It has reach. It has credibility. It has awards.

What it doesn’t have is disclosure.

Nowhere on The Front Page’s website, social media, interviews, or award citations will you find any mention of the fact that its founder and publisher is the nephew of a former Prime Minister, the son of a man who was discharged from a corruption case three months ago, and a member of the family that now controls Bangladesh’s government. This information is not disclosed in their “About” section. It’s not mentioned in their founder’s interviews with The Prestige Magazine. It’s not acknowledged in their UK Alumni Award citation. It’s simply absent.

Why does this matter? Let me count the ways.

First: the founding motivation. Co-founder Shah Md. Akib Majumder explicitly said they started The Front Page because of “lack of freedom of speech for almost 17 years” — a direct reference to Awami League rule from 2009 to 2024. This is BNP’s core political narrative, repackaged as a media startup’s origin story. The “17 years of suppression” framing is the exact language BNP uses in every press release, every rally, every interview. It’s not wrong — the Awami League period was genuinely repressive — but when the person deploying it is the Prime Minister’s nephew, it’s not independent journalism. It’s political messaging with better production values.

Second: the July 2024 coverage. Fasbeer was in America during the Bangladesh internet blackout. He ran The Front Page’s entire operation solo for two days, then assembled an international team of 20-30 volunteers to cover the uprising. He calls it “standing with the students” and “fighting from abroad.” And perhaps it was. But it was also a member of the BNP’s founding family coordinating media coverage of an uprising that would bring his family’s party to power. The line between citizen journalism and political operations doesn’t get blurrier than this.

Third: the anonymity that wasn’t just for safety. The Front Page started as an anonymous outlet in 2020. Fasbeer says even his family didn’t know he was behind it. The stated reason was safety — you couldn’t be openly critical of the Awami League government and expect to operate freely. Fair enough. But anonymity also served another purpose: it hid a massive conflict of interest. An “independent media outlet” founded by the Prime Minister’s nephew is not independent in any meaningful sense. It’s a family asset. The anonymity didn’t just protect the founder from government reprisal — it protected the family from accountability for running what amounts to a propaganda operation under the guise of citizen journalism.

Fourth: the Al Jazeera connection. The Front Page covered Al Jazeera’s “All The Prime Minister’s Men” documentary — the explosive investigation into Awami League’s corruption and authoritarianism. They claim to be “the first and only portal in Bangladesh” to do so. They used anonymity as protection. The result? A powerful piece of anti-AL content, amplified by a platform controlled by the AL’s primary political opposition — and the audience had no idea about the family connection.

None of this makes The Front Page’s content wrong. Their reporting on July 2024 was valuable. Their coverage of press freedom issues has been substantive. The problem isn’t the content. The problem is the concealment. When Fox News covers American politics, everyone knows it’s a conservative outlet. When The Daily Star covers Bangladesh, readers understand its editorial stance. But when The Front Page covers Bangladesh, its 212,000 followers have no idea that the person signing the checks is the Prime Minister’s nephew. That’s not a media outlet. That’s a masked operation.

Act Four: The Prime Minister

And then there’s Tarique Rahman.

We’ve written about him extensively in this project. The “Dark Prince.” The “symbol of kleptocratic government” — those are the US Embassy’s words, by the way, not mine. The man who ran a parallel government from Hawa Bhaban. The man who was convicted of money laundering, sentenced to 7 years in prison by the High Court, and then had his conviction overturned after the July 2024 uprising. The man who is now Prime Minister of Bangladesh.

Eighty-four cases were filed against Tarique Rahman between 2007 and 2024. BNP called all of them “politically motivated.” After July 2024, courts acquitted him of every single charge. Every one. Not reduced. Not commuted. Acquitted. The man who the US Embassy believed was “guilty of egregious political corruption that has had a serious adverse effect on US national interests” is now running the country.

But I’m not writing this to re-litigate Tarique’s case. I’m writing this to show you the family portrait. Because when you put the pieces together — Shamim looting Biman, Fasbeer running “independent” media, Tarique running the country — you’re not looking at three separate stories. You’re looking at one family’s multi-generational strategy for capturing and monetizing state power.

The brother loots the airline. The son creates the narrative that protects the family. The nephew becomes Prime Minister. The wife sits in the VIP gallery. The brother-in-law flees to London with the proceeds. And the entire extended family — the people who turned Bangladesh into their personal ATM between 2001 and 2006 — is back in power, with all charges cleared and all institutions under their control.

This isn’t a political party. It’s a family business. And the product is Bangladesh.

The Pattern: Dynasty, Not Democracy

There’s a Bengali phrase that captures this perfectly: গণতন্ত্রের মুখোশে পরিবারতন্ত্র — “dynasty hiding behind the mask of democracy.”

Bangladesh has never had a political party that wasn’t a family operation. Awami League is Sheikh Hasina’s family business. BNP is Khaleda Zia’s family business. Jatiya Party was Ershad’s family business. The pattern is so consistent it’s almost boring: founder builds party, founder’s children inherit party, party becomes vehicle for family enrichment, family uses party to shield itself from accountability.

But what makes the Iskander family different — and what makes this moment so dangerous — is the completeness of the capture. Let me lay it out:

Executive power: Tarique Rahman is Prime Minister. The head of the family’s political wing controls the government.

Media narrative: Fasbeer Eskander runs The Front Page, one of the most influential digital media outlets in Bangladesh, with no disclosure of his family connection.

Legal immunity: Shamim Iskander’s corruption case has been discharged. Tarique Rahman’s 84 cases have been acquitted. The August 21 grenade attack convictions have been overturned. The entire family’s legal exposure has been wiped clean.

Social legitimacy: Fasbeer won a Study UK Alumni Award. Shamim sits in Parliament’s VIP gallery. Tarique is treated as a legitimate democratic leader by the international community.

International rehabilitation: The US Embassy that once called Tarique a “symbol of kleptocratic government” now issues diplomatic statements about “partnership.” The UK that hosted the family’s money now hosts their media operations. The same international actors who sanctioned and condemned BNP-era corruption are now celebrating Bangladesh’s “democratic transition.”

This isn’t just a family that got away with looting a country. This is a family that got away with it, rebranded itself, and is now doing it again — with the next generation already positioned to continue the tradition.

What 17 Years of No Employment Actually Means

Let me return to Shamim Iskander for a moment, because there’s a detail in his story that deserves more attention than it’s gotten.

Between 1991 and 2008 — for 17 years — Shamim Iskander had no regular employment. He was a former Biman flight engineer who, after his sister became Prime Minister, apparently didn’t need to work. During those 17 years, he:

• Controlled Biman Bangladesh Airlines as an undeclared owner
• Accumulated assets including houses in Australia and Canada
• Held a Barclays Platinum credit card in the UK
• Drove a luxury SUV (later seized by police)
• Declared approximately Tk 4 crore and 75 tola of gold to the ACC
• Had the ACC find Tk 20.47 lakh in unexplained income — which was only what they could trace

Seventeen years. No job. Multiple overseas properties. Platinum credit cards. Luxury vehicles. And the Anti-Corruption Commission could only trace Tk 20.47 lakh in unexplained wealth — less than 2 crore taka — from a man who, by every credible account, was involved in misappropriating over Tk 250 crore from Biman alone.

This tells you everything you need to know about why the ACC case failed. Not because Shamim was innocent. Because the system is designed to make it nearly impossible to trace the proceeds of corruption when the corrupt are connected to the ruling family. The money goes through shell companies, overseas accounts, family members, and associates. By the time investigators get close, the political winds have shifted and the case is discharged.

The ACC’s own charge sheet acknowledged that Shamim had Tk 1.33 crore in illegally acquired wealth and Tk 81.81 lakh in concealed assets. These are the amounts they could document — the tip of an iceberg that, based on Biman’s own records, should have been orders of magnitude larger. But the system worked as intended: the case languished, the witnesses became unavailable, the political context shifted, and the discharge was secured.

The lesson is clear. If you steal a little, you go to jail. If you steal enough, you can afford to wait out the system. And if your sister is the Prime Minister, you don’t even need to wait — the system will come to you.

The Next Generation: Zaima and the Future of the Family Business

There’s one more piece of this puzzle that we haven’t discussed yet. Tarique Rahman’s daughter, Zaima Rahman, is being positioned within BNP. She’s 25 years old. She’s already appearing at party events, building a public profile, and being discussed as the next generation of BNP leadership.

Let me be careful here. Zaima hasn’t been accused of corruption. She hasn’t looted an airline or run a media outlet. She’s young, and she deserves the chance to define herself outside her family’s shadow.

But that’s exactly the problem. She won’t get that chance. In Bangladesh’s political dynasties, the next generation doesn’t get to choose whether they inherit the family business. The business chooses them. Zaima is being groomed for leadership not because she’s demonstrated exceptional ability — she’s 25, she hasn’t had the chance — but because she’s a Rahman. She’s the family’s succession plan.

And when you look at the generational pattern, it’s hard not to see the trajectory:

Generation One: Khaleda Zia — built the political machine, won elections, held power, went to jail.

Generation Two: Tarique Rahman — ran the corruption machine from Hawa Bhaban, went into exile, came back as Prime Minister. Shamim Iskander — ran the family’s financial operations, got caught, got discharged. Fasbeer Eskander — runs the family’s media operations, wins awards, never discloses the connection.

Generation Three: Zaima Rahman — being positioned for political leadership. The Iskander sons — positioned in media and potentially business. The family’s reach extending into new sectors with each generation.

Each generation finds a new domain to capture. Khaleda captured the party. Tarique captured the government. Shamim captured Biman. Fasbeer captured the media. Zaima will capture whatever’s left. The family doesn’t just hold power — it expands into new territory with each passing decade.

Why This Matters Now

You might be reading this and thinking: “Every political family in Bangladesh does this. Awami League was worse. The Sheikh family was worse. Why single out BNP?”

That’s exactly the wrong question. The right question is: why does Bangladesh keep accepting this?

The answer isn’t that Awami League was better or worse. The answer is that the system — the family-based political party, the captured institutions, the discharged cases, the rehabilitated reputations — is the same regardless of which family is in charge. The Sheikh family and the Zia family are competing for control of the same machine. When one family controls it, they loot. When the other family takes over, they loot. The machine doesn’t change. The family at the controls changes.

And right now, the Zia family is at the controls. The brother who looted Biman is in the VIP gallery. The nephew who runs “independent” media is winning awards. The son who was called a “symbol of kleptocratic government” by the US Embassy is Prime Minister. The daughter is being groomed for the next round.

Meanwhile, the 18,000 Hindu women who were raped during BNP’s last stint in power have received no justice. The families of the 24 people killed in the August 21 grenade attack watched the convictions get overturned. The orphans whose money was stolen from Khaleda Zia’s Orphanage Trust are still waiting for accountability. The 600 people killed by RAB — the death squad BNP created — are still dead. The 12.1 million fake voters have been replaced by a legitimate voter roll, but the system that tried to manufacture them is still intact.

The family has been rehabilitated. The victims have been forgotten. That’s not justice. That’s a rebranding exercise.

The Front Page’s Real Headline

I want to close with a thought experiment about The Front Page, because I think it’s the most revealing part of this entire story.

Imagine, for a moment, that Sheikh Rehana’s son — Sheikh Hasina’s daughter’s son — had founded a digital media outlet during BNP’s time in opposition. Imagine this outlet had 212,000 followers, won international awards, covered the July 2024 uprising, and positioned itself as “independent citizen journalism.” Imagine that this outlet never disclosed its founder’s family connection to the Awami League’s founding family. Imagine it covered BNP corruption extensively while never mentioning its own family’s extensive corruption history.

How would BNP react? How would The Front Page itself react? They would scream. And they would be right to scream. An undisclosed conflict of interest that large would be a journalistic scandal of the highest order. The outlet’s credibility would be destroyed. The founder would be forced to resign. The awards would be rescinded.

But when Fasbeer Eskander does exactly this — when he runs a media outlet without disclosing that he’s the Prime Minister’s nephew, when he covers political stories that directly benefit his family, when he wins awards for “independent journalism” while concealing the most basic conflict of interest — the response is silence. Awards. Applause. “Next generation media.” “Citizen journalism.” “Standing with the students.”

The real headline of The Front Page isn’t any of the stories they’ve published. The real headline is the one they’ll never write: “Our Founder Is The Prime Minister’s Nephew, And We Never Told You.”

That’s the story. That’s always the story in Bangladesh. The family doesn’t just steal money. They steal the narrative. They steal the credibility that comes with “independent” journalism. They steal the legitimacy that comes with international awards. They steal the moral authority that comes with “standing with the students.” And they do it all without telling you who they are.

It’s the most sophisticated family business in Bangladesh. Not because of the money — though there’s plenty of that. But because of the audacity. The chutzpah. The absolute confidence that no one will ever check. That no one will ever connect the brother at Biman to the son in London to the nephew at The Front Page to the Prime Minister at Ganabhaban. That no one will ever draw the line from the looted airline to the “independent” media to the discharged case to the VIP gallery.

I just drew that line. And it leads to one place: a family that has turned Bangladesh into its family business, across three generations, with no accountability, no disclosure, and no end in sight.

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Sources:

• The Daily Star (July 20, 2008): “Shamim rode on Biman” — Shamim Iskander’s control over Biman Bangladesh Airlines
• The Daily Star (March 25, 2025): Discharge of Shamim Iskander from ACC corruption case
• Dhaka Tribune (March 2026): Shamim Iskander in VIP gallery at 13th Parliament inaugural session
• ACC charge sheet records (2008): 36 witnesses, Tk 1.33 crore illegal acquisition, Tk 81.81 lakh concealment
• ACC/NBR bank inquiry (2008): Sons’ names and unexplained wealth transactions
• Study UK Alumni Awards 2026: Fasbeer Eskander, Business & Innovation category
• The Prestige Magazine (November 19, 2024): Interview with The Front Page co-founders
• The Front Page (@thefrontpagebd): 212K Instagram followers, 14K posts, brand partnerships
• WikiLeaks Cable 08DHAKA1143: US Embassy describes Tarique Rahman as “symbol of kleptocratic government”
• Bangladesh High Court (July 21, 2016): Tarique Rahman sentenced to 7 years for money laundering
• Appellate Division of Supreme Court (March 6, 2025): Acquittal of Tarique Rahman and Giasuddin Al Mamun
• Speedy Trial Tribunal-1, Dhaka (October 10, 2018): August 21 grenade attack verdict — 19 death sentences, 19 life sentences
• Bangladesh High Court (December 2024): Acquittal of all 49 individuals in August 21 grenade attack case
• Transparency International CPI 2001-2005: Bangladesh ranked most corrupt country in the world for five consecutive years
• Tashnuva Masud — primary source for family intelligence and connections

Series 10 — The Dynasty Files | Article #75

Bangladesh Untold documents what happened. What you do with that information is up to you.