Outside a Bronx mosque, the air hung heavy with grief and pride as New York City police officers, many in formal navy blue, gathered to honor one of their own. The crowd, a sea of uniforms interspersed with traditional South Asian attire, knelt in prayer and remembrance for Officer Didarul Islam, the NYPD’s first Bangladeshi American officer killed in the line of duty. His photograph, displayed on a banner bearing the name of the Bangladeshi American Police Association, captured the hopes and heartbreak of a community that has quietly become a vital part of the city’s police force.
Officer Islam was one of four victims in the July 28, 2025, shooting at the Manhattan office tower that houses the NFL’s headquarters, a tragedy that sent shockwaves through the NYPD and the wider Bangladeshi American community. According to the Associated Press, Islam’s funeral in early August drew hundreds of mourners, including fellow officers, family members, and community leaders, all united in their sorrow and their resolve.
“He actually uplifted our community in a way that was not imaginable before,” said Shamsul Haque, co-founder of the Bangladeshi American Police Association. “His legacy will endure not only as a hero who gave his life protecting others, but also as a symbol of hope, integrity and the American dream.”
Islam’s story is emblematic of a remarkable transformation within the NYPD. Just a few decades ago, Bangladeshi Americans were a rarity in the department. Today, more than 1,000 of the NYPD’s roughly 33,000 uniformed officers are of Bangladeshi heritage, with another 1,500 civilian employees sharing similar roots, according to the association. This growth is not just a matter of numbers—it’s a testament to the evolving face of New York and its police force.
The pipeline that brought so many Bangladeshi immigrants into the NYPD began, in part, as a response to the aftermath of the September 11 attacks. Haque, who immigrated to the U.S. in 1991 and joined the force in 2004, recalled that many in the community wanted to challenge the perception that all Muslims were terrorist sympathizers. “Over the years, people started to realize that we work hard, we are ethical,” Haque said. “Although we are immigrants, we are patriotic.”
Haque’s own journey is instructive. After graduating college with a business administration degree, he chose law enforcement over finance, a decision that initially puzzled his parents. But he was driven by a sense of duty—to his country and his community. His ascent to become the first South Asian and first Muslim lieutenant commander in the NYPD, a rank he achieved before retiring earlier this year, opened doors for others who followed.
In the years after 9/11, the NYPD launched a domestic surveillance program that systematically monitored Muslim communities, businesses, mosques, and student groups in search of terror threats. Haque remembers feeling singled out during training, when a counterterrorism expert warned of the possibility that al-Qaida operatives might try to infiltrate the force. But as more Bangladeshi Americans joined and excelled, perceptions within the department began to change.
Recruitment efforts often started with civilian jobs—traffic enforcement, school safety, or 911 dispatch—that did not require U.S. citizenship. After five years, when many gained citizenship, they could apply to the police academy. Haque estimates that about 60% of Bangladeshi heritage officers in the NYPD followed this path. Officer Islam himself began as a school safety officer after immigrating to the U.S. around 2009, before working his way up to a uniformed role.
The NYPD’s demographic profile reflects New York’s diversity: 38% of uniformed officers are white, 33% Hispanic, 17% Black, and nearly 12% Asian, according to department data. Bangladeshi Americans have moved into leadership roles as well, with 10 detectives, 82 sergeants, 20 lieutenants, and four inspectors among their ranks. “I never dreamt that I would go this far, but I always had an ambition to go somewhere where I can be challenged,” said Sgt. Ershadur Siddique, current president of the Bangladeshi American Police Association and a member of Mayor Eric Adams’ security detail. “I always say, ‘Listen, give me a chance, see if I can do better than anybody else,’ you know? Give me a chance.”
For many, Islam’s death was a sobering reminder of the risks inherent in police work. Ishmam Chowdhury, a 26-year-old officer who graduated from the academy just months ago, said the tragedy struck close to home. Like Islam’s wife, who is expecting their third child, Chowdhury’s wife is also pregnant with their first. “It just hit us a little different because like that made us think, what if it happens to me today? It can,” Chowdhury told the Associated Press. “So yeah, I guess that’s a wake-up call for us that even though this is a noble job, we are definitely at grave risk.”
Chowdhury’s path to the NYPD began in Bangladesh, where he and his family were victims of repeated robberies. The sense of helplessness he felt as a teenager never quite left him. After immigrating to the U.S. in 2019, he volunteered as an unarmed auxiliary officer, then took a job as a 911 operator in 2021. In 2023, he briefly served in the Washington, D.C. police force, which had opened applications to green card holders, but he and his wife felt isolated from their New York community. Once he gained citizenship in 2024, they returned to Queens, and Chowdhury entered the police academy.
“That’s what makes this city, this country, great. It doesn’t matter where somebody comes from,” Chowdhury said. “If somebody really works hard and truly wants to do something, they can do it.”
The visible presence of Bangladeshi Americans in the NYPD is inspiring a new generation to aim higher, just as Irish, Italian, and Latino immigrants did before them. Their journey, marked by perseverance, sacrifice, and a deep sense of civic duty, is changing the narrative not only within the police force but also in the communities they serve. As Haque put it, “His legacy will endure not only as a hero who gave his life protecting others, but also as a symbol of hope, integrity and the American dream.”
As New York continues to evolve, the story of Officer Didarul Islam and his colleagues stands as a powerful reminder of the city’s capacity for renewal—and the enduring promise of opportunity for all who call it home.