Domestic Framework and International Commitments

India, being a signatory to ILO Conventions Nos. 29 and 105, is obligated to prohibit forced labour. This serves as the grundnorm for Article 23 of the Constitution, which prohibits all those practices that subjugate the vulnerable elements of society by prohibiting forced labour. Furthermore, the Bonded Labour System (Abolition) Act 1976 (“the 1976 Act”), supplemented by the NHRC 2021 Advisory and the updated version of the Standard Operating Procedure for Identification and Rescue of Bonded Labourers and Prosecuting of Offenders (2026),  provides for economic support to the freed bonded labourers. The Apex Court has also emphasised the need for economic as well as social rehabilitation for marginalised workers (Bandhua Mukti Morcha v Union of India 1984).

Legislative Vacuum and Implementation Challenges

Despite the existence of a comprehensive legislative framework, implementation remains weak. The District-Level vigilance committees, statutorily mandated under the 1976 Act, remain non-functional. Surveys for identification remain sporadic due to budgetary limitations, and inter-state coordination for migrant workers is non-existent. Even when the labourers are “rescued”, they receive minimal monetary aid – limited interim assistance of Rs. 20,000 and inadequate long-term support. Despite explicit warnings in the NHRC Advisory 2.0 (2021), bureaucratic delays in issuing release certificates and linking full compensation to trial outcomes deprive survivors of timely rehabilitation, further pushing them back into the cycle of debt and bondage.

These domestic gaps are particularly concerning, considering India’s international commitments. Article 8 of the ICCPR and Article 6 of the ICESCR, both ratified by India, prohibit forced labour; however, the misclassification of bonded labourers as voluntary workers, as noted in the recent NHRC hearing, prevents the invocation of the legislative provisions.

Way Forward: Strengthening Implementation and Accountability

Firstly, the district authorities, in coordination with the Central and State Governments, should institutionalise regular vigilance over high-risk industries through an audit supported by a public reporting mechanism to ensure accountability and transparency. Secondly, the development of inter-state coordination mechanisms would help track migrant workers and ensure rehabilitation without any constraints, thereby smoothing the entire process. Thirdly, rehabilitation schemes need to shift from economic reimbursement to skill development to stop the ongoing cycle of worker exploitation in the name of circumstances.

Fourthly, NHRC needs to focus on developing capacity-building programmes for police administration and labour officials to address the misclassification of bonded labourers and improve rescue operations. Finally, as India serves as a member of the UN Human Rights Commission (2026-2028), domestic reforms must prioritise the effective eradication of bonded labour. Significant progress in fulfilling international commitments under Article 8 of the ICCPR, Article 6 of the ICESCR and the ILO Conventions will enhance India’s international credibility and affirm its commitment towards the global prohibition of forced labour as a fundamental human right.

The new case signals the “second front” in Australia’s detention jurisprudence. In NZYQ, the High Court held that indefinite administrative detention of non-citizens was unconstitutional once removal from Australia was no longer practically possible. That decision, delivered in November 2023, overturned nearly two decades of precedent and prompted the release of more than 140 people. In response, the government swiftly enacted new legislative controls designed to maintain surveillance and containment over those released, without formally reincarcerating them.

The constitutional issue now before the Court is whether such coercive visa conditions cross the line between regulation and detention. If this new regime restricts people’s freedom, it might once again breach Chapter III of the Australian Constitution, which reserves the exercise of judicial power—including the power to impose detention—for the courts. Therefore, the difficulty strikes at the heart of Australia’s separation of powers: will the executive, in the name of “risk management,” impose restrictions equivalent to imprisonment without judicial consent?

This question reveals a unique constitutional landscape in Australia. Since a national human rights charter does not exist, there is no express constitutional right to liberty. Human freedom is protected structurally through the rule that only courts can order detention. In NZYQ, the High Court applied that principle to ascertain that administrative detention ceased to be lawful once its statutory purpose—to assist deportation—could no longer be met. Whether the logic applies to a post-detention regime in the form of intensive monitoring rather than physical confinement will be a matter of judicial consideration ahead.

The question is not only the reach of executive power but the meaning of liberty itself. The government defends its measures as necessary to protect the community from non-citizens with criminal histories. The plaintiffs counter that constitutional limits cannot be overridden by administrative convenience. As the High Court has emphasised, the Constitution does not permit the executive to achieve indirectly what it is prohibited from doing directly.

From a global standpoint, the controversy extends well beyond Australia’s borders. Article 9 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (“ICCPR”) guarantees freedom from arbitrary detention. The UN Human Rights Committee’s decision in A v Australia (1997) had previously found Australia’s mandatory immigration detention regime to be in breach of that provision. The return of detention-like controls—now known as “supervision”—gives rise to familiar problems of compliance with responsibilities imposed by the international community.

Comparable struggles are visible across jurisdictions. The United Kingdom’s Rwanda deportation scheme and the United States’ ICE detention practices both test the limits of executive discretion in the realm of migration control. Australia’s current litigation thus contributes to a global dialogue about how liberal democracies reconcile border management with constitutional and human rights norms.

As the High Court prepares its judgment, the stakes could not be higher. If it recognises that coercive supervision can amount to a deprivation of liberty, it will reaffirm the judiciary’s central role in safeguarding rights through constitutional structure rather than statutory charters. If not, Australia may witness the quiet reconstitution of indefinite detention under another name. Either way, the outcome will shape not only the future of Australian constitutionalism but also the global understanding of freedom in an age of securitised migration governance.

In 2019, Türkiye imposed movement restrictions on Syrian refugees, requiring them to obtain travel permits from local authorities to move between provinces. This policy aimed to enforce provincial registration and prevent unregistered refugees from residing in major cities like Istanbul without proper documentation. As a result of these regulations, many Syrian refugees lost access to healthcare, education, and employment, because they had already established their lives in provinces other than their registered ones.

These restrictions appear to violate Article 26 of the Refugee Convention and Article 12 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR), which protects the right to freedom of movement within the host territory. By limiting movement between provinces and restricting access to essential services, Türkiye exacerbated Syrian refugees’ vulnerability. The World Health Organization (WHO) collaborated with UNHCR to develop a joint work plan stating that any restrictions on movement should be implemented in a non-discriminatory manner, considering the vulnerabilities of migrant populations. The restriction of movement also leads to the criminalization of Syrian refugees for living or working in unregistered provinces, engendering
detentions and even deportations, which violate the non-refoulment principle.

Furthermore, these restrictions hinder the ability to seek employment for refugees, who are registered in smaller provinces. Since refugees have more employment opportunities in bigger cities, the restrictions prevent Syrians from sustaining economic stability and aggravate their overall conditions.

The gender-specific impacts of these movement restrictions are particularly concerning. The movement restrictions disproportionately affect Syrian women, who are often left behind in registered provinces while men move illegally to larger cities for work. This gender-specific impact raises concerns, as restricting women’s freedom of movement and access to employment perpetuates gender-based inequality, making it difficult for women to escape abusive situations or find work in safer environments.

During the humanitarian crisis caused by the February 6, 2023 earthquake, the Turkish government alleviated its restrictive policies to a certain degree. The circular issued on February 7 instructed local authorities to permit all refugees registered with the Turkish migration authorities in the ten affected provinces to travel without a permit to other provinces, excluding Istanbul, and to remain outside their registered provinces for up to 90 days. Although this decision brought relief, it undermined Syrian refugees’ long-term well-being. The UN Human Rights Office (OHCHR) emphasizes the vitality of concentrating on the rights of people in times of crisis without discrimination and 90 days appears to be a short period when the level of catastrophe is considered.

The legal framework that governs Syrian refugees in Türkiye highlights a broader tension between the domestic legal framework regarding refugees and international principles of refugee protection. By imposing restrictions on freedom of movement, Türkiye’s policies diverge from international refugee protection standards. To protect the rights of Syrian refugees, the UN’s initiative in 2018, the Global Compact on Refugees, urges states to adopt policies that enhance refugees’ access to rights, conforming to the International Refugee Convention. While Türkiye can reconsider its refugee categorization system, international organizations can also devise new mechanisms to assist in managing the refugee burden, which exceeds Türkiye’s infrastructural capacity. Without these reforms, the current system will continue to leave Syrian refugees in a state of legal liminality, perpetuating their vulnerable conditions.

This article aims to shed light on the current state of MSHT in the country by examining its evolution over the past five years, identifying its primary forms, key perpetrators, and main driving factors. It will also introduce readers to the existing legal framework to combat MSHT, point out the key barriers that have hampered its implementation, and offer recommendations for its improvement.

How MSHT has evolved over the last 5 years

According to the 2023 Global Slavery Index (GSI), Bangladesh ranks among the countries with the highest rates of modern slavery in Asia and the Pacific where it ranks 9^th out of 27. At the global level, it is 56^th out of 160 countries. It is estimated that 1.2 million people in Bangladesh were living in modern slavery in 2021 on any given day.

Although the latest data from the index presents a grim picture, a comparison with Bangladesh’s position in the GSI in 2018 shows that it has made some progress over the years. In 2018, it ranked 19^th among 28 countries in Asia and the Pacific and 92^nd globally among 167 countries, with approximately 592,000 people living in modern slavery.

Primary forms, key perpetrators, and main driving factors

The primary forms of MSHT in Bangladesh include: (a) forced labour in various sectors such as RMG, construction, agriculture, ship-breaking industry, and restaurant and hospitality industry; (b) sexual exploitation; (c) domestic servitude; (d) organ removal; (e) forced / sham marriage; (f) begging; and (g) debt bondage.

Perpetrators come from diverse backgrounds, including both locals and foreigners, and possess varying levels of education and skills. They function solely on their own, or in small teams of individuals or within larger, more structured organisations. Also, perpetrators often disguise themselves as legitimate businesses, including employment agencies, travel agents, and hotel management.

The main driving factors include poverty and limited economic opportunities, climate change-induced environmental disasters, socio-political instability, harmful traditional practices, high youth unemployment rates, and an excessively complex visa and work permit application process.

Legal framework, its limitations, and recommendations

The legal framework governing this issue comprises certain provisions of the Constitution (Arts. 14, 27, 31, 34), the Penal Code 1860, the Prevention and Suppression of Human Trafficking Act 2012, the Bangladesh Labour Act 2006, the Overseas Employment and Migrants Act 2013, the Prevention of Human Trafficking Rules and Fund Rules 2017, among other legislations. It also encompasses various international instruments that Bangladesh has committed to uphold, including the Forced Labour Convention 1930 and its 2014 Protocol, the Abolition of Forced Labour Convention 1957, the Worst Forms of Child Labour Convention 1999, the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights 1966, and the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court 1998.

However, the main problem lies not in the content of these laws, as together they make for a quite robust legal framework on paper, but in their alarmingly low level of implementation. Several factors have been identified that contribute to this low implementation rate.

First, there is a lack of training for relevant stakeholders, such as enforcement agencies and the judiciary. Thus, specialised training programmes based on a victim-centred and trauma-informed approach for key actors need to be developed and substantially expanded.

Second, public awareness and understanding of the laws and court processes is quite low, especially in rural areas. Nationwide awareness campaigns, particularly targeting rural areas and vulnerable communities, including Rohingya refugees, need to be launched in collaboration with local NGOs, community leaders, and media outlets to ensure maximum outreach.

Third, many victims lack the financial means to initiate and continue legal proceedings. In this context, the coverage of the government-led legal aid programme needs to be expanded to reimburse recipients for case-related travel expenses.

Fourth, there is insufficient protection and care for victims and witnesses. More resources must be allocated to establish and sustain mechanisms aimed at strengthening their protection and care.

Last but not least, the overly complex and prolonged procedures of trials discourage many victims from seeking justice. Increasing the capacity of Anti-Trafficking Tribunal personnel to effectively prosecute and adjudicate human trafficking cases, along with establishing additional tribunals in areas with high caseloads, could be a game changer in this regard.

Seeking Justice in Japan

In 2018, four plaintiffs filed suit against North Korea in Japan, seeking 100 million yen damages apiece. North Korea was informed of the suit through notice posted on the court’s bulletin board, but did not appear at any stage of the proceeding.

The Tokyo District Court found that the case was not barred by sovereign immunity because Japan does not recognise the state of North Korea. It also found that the plaintiffs had moved to North Korea because of false information. The case was dismissed, however, because the District Court decided that the plaintiffs were proffering two separate claims: for solicitation through false propaganda (prior to leaving Japan), and for a denial of freedom of movement once the migrants had arrived in North Korea. The false propaganda claim was time-barred, while the denial of freedom of movement claim did not take place in Japan and was therefore outside the Court’s jurisdiction. The plaintiffs appealed.

On 30 October 2023, the Tokyo High Court overturned the District Court’s decision. The High Court found that North Korea’s misleading pre-departure propaganda and ensuing post-migration human rights violations constituted a single continuous act. This meant that the plaintiffs were no longer time-barred. It also meant that the entire continuous act fell within the Court’s jurisdiction, because the misleading propaganda was issued on Japanese territory. The case has now been remanded to the District Court for retrial.

Seeking Justice in South Korea

Victims living in South Korea are pursuing their own avenues for justice and accountability. In December 2022, activists representing over 20 victims filed a request for the Korean Truth and Reconciliation Commission to investigate the resettlement programme and the migrants’ experiences in Japan. An investigation was officially opened in November 2023. The Commission cannot award compensation, but it can help bring to light the victims’ experiences, which can be used in future court cases or victim-centred measures.

Meanwhile, on 15 March 2024, five South Korean victims acting with the assistance of the NKDB Center for Human Rights Legal Support initiated their own lawsuit against the North Korean state for its role in the ‘Paradise on Earth’ migration. The plaintiffs seek 100 million won each to compensate for the psychological damages they suffered as a result of being forcibly detained in North Korea as well as the other abuses they suffered after having migrated due to false propaganda. North Korea was served with papers at their UN Mission in New York, but is not expected to participate in the trial.  The plaintiffs have a good chance of winning their lawsuit: in a landmark 2020 case, North Korea was found liable by a South Korean court for forcibly detaining and enslaving two Korean prisoners of war, and was ordered to pay each plaintiff 21 million won.  Their efforts to collect the compensation, however, have so far been unsuccessful.

Next Steps

The litigation in Japan and South Korea is ongoing, and important decisions in each case can be expected in the coming months. If North Korea is found liable for damages, the plaintiffs would then have the difficult task of actually collecting their compensation. The lawyer in the Japanese case has suggested that North Korean assets in Japan would be targeted. In the past, US plaintiffs have received limited compensation from seized North Korean bank accounts and sanction-violating ships.

New cases are also likely. The North Korean state did not act alone in deceiving prospective migrants. They were assisted by the General Association of Korean Residents in Japan (Chongryon), the Japanese state, and the Japanese Red Cross Society. In fact, the Japanese plaintiffs’ representative has suggested that a lawsuit against Chongryon would be coming next. There are challenges in broadening the scope of the case – in particular, the statute of limitations may present a renewed barrier for both Japanese and South Korean plaintiffs if North Korean state abuses are no longer a focal point of the case – but victims continue to be energised to hold the involved organisations accountable, and to find compensation for their years of suffering.