[🇧🇩] Liberation War: Sheikh Mujib and Others

[Saif]

TDS: How did you become involved with Tajuddin during the war?

MH: At that time, a Punjabi man named Jafar Naqvi lived next to my house. He had served as the Chief Reporter of The Pakistan Times between 1962 and 1964. We became very close friends. Both of us belonged to the same faction of the Communist Party — the one entangled in the Moscow–China ideological conflict. Like me, he was disillusioned with both sides, though he leaned more towards the pro-Moscow position. I was around 35 years old then, while he was over 40. By that time, he had left journalism and was serving as the resident director of Eastern Refinery Ltd in Chittagong. He frequently travelled between Chittagong and Karachi, as his maternal uncle was the head of the organisation.

Every week, he was required to report to Tikka Khan two to three times regarding Petroleum, Oil, and Lubricants — detailing available stock, goods in transit, and quantities being refined.

He would occasionally drop by and share updates. One day, he suddenly asked, "So, you're still around?" I replied, "Yes, everything seems normal now." He responded, "What normal? Another major crisis is imminent. It's going to happen soon."

He warned, "The Indians are training so many people — do you think Pakistan will just sit idle? They will strike. And once the attack happens, the war will begin."

He advised me to leave, saying, "War is about to begin again." When I asked why, he explained that the Pakistani army was delaying because the Chinese hadn't fully given their nod yet. Pakistan, he said, would find it difficult to go to war alone without clear support from China.

Within our group, we quietly gathered information. Shahidullah Kaiser, my mentor in the Communist Party, was a small-built, cheerful man of about 45. We met almost daily in Dhanmondi, where he, Ahmadul Kabir, and Zohur Hossain Chowdhury would often exchange news.

It was Shahidullah Kaiser who first told me that Tajuddin Ahmad was either in Kolkata or Delhi, and that I should go and find him — someone reliable was needed to brief them on the situation in Dhaka. So, in May, I went to Calcutta. I didn't find Tajuddin right away, but I met Amirul Islam and Nurul Quader first.

Tajuddin Ahmad first shared with me his belief that Mrs Gandhi was a sincere leader who would stand by Bangladesh's cause. In response, I raised a concern — though she may have assured full support, there remained a possibility that if China were to intervene or launch an attack, she might frame it as an external conflict and withdraw her support, leaving us to face the situation alone. This concern stemmed from insights I had received earlier from Jafar Naqvi.

Tajuddin acknowledged the risk but noted that such developments were beyond what they could have anticipated at the time.

I then argued that India's security could only be ensured through a firm assurance from the Soviet Union — specifically, that the Soviets would deter any potential Chinese aggression. I reminded him that China still had around one lakh soldiers deployed along the Ussuri River, and there was fighting between these two countries along the border. If China were to intervene and the Soviet Union formed a formal alliance with India, it could dissuade Chinese action. Only under such an arrangement, I asserted, could India feel genuinely secure. At that point, we had no other support on the global stage.

Tajuddin remained silent for a while and then suggested that I go to Delhi to raise these strategic concerns with Indian policymakers. Following his advice, I went to Delhi to engage with Indian policy-level think tanks.

The rest of my account of working with Tajuddin Ahmad during the Liberation War is documented in detail in my book Muldhara '71.

The interview was taken by Priyam Paul.​

 

[Saif]

The forgotten luminary of Bangladesh’s liberation war

History has a cruel way of dimming the light of those who served with quiet dignity while amplifying the voices of those who demanded attention. In the pantheon of Bangladesh’s founding fathers, few figures have been as systematically overlooked—and arguably mistreated—as Tajuddin Ahmed, the...

www.thedailystar.net

The forgotten luminary of Bangladesh’s liberation war

Members of the cabinet of the provisional government of Bangladesh. From left to right: Syed Nazrul Islam, Tajuddin Ahmad, Khandaker Mushtaq Ahmed, Captain M. Mansur Ali, A.H.M. Qamaruzzaman, and Colonel M.A.G. Osmani.

History has a cruel way of dimming the light of those who served with quiet dignity while amplifying the voices of those who demanded attention. In the pantheon of Bangladesh's founding fathers, few figures have been as systematically overlooked—and arguably mistreated—as Tajuddin Ahmed, the nation's first Prime Minister. Born on July 23, 1925, Ahmed's story is one of unwavering principle, strategic brilliance, and ultimate sacrifice, yet it remains largely ignored in the popular consciousness of the very nation he helped birth.

The Hero of 1971

While Sheikh Mujibur Rahman rightfully earned the title "Bangabandhu" (Friend of Bengal), Tajuddin Ahmed led the first Government of Bangladesh as its Prime Minister during the Bangladesh Liberation War in 1971, and is regarded as one of the most instrumental figures in the birth of Bangladesh. When the Pakistani military launched Operation Searchlight on 25 March 1971, it was Ahmad who demonstrated the presence of mind and organisational acumen that would prove crucial to the independence struggle.

In the chaos following the crackdown, while many leaders fled or were captured, Ahmad managed to escape to India and immediately set about the monumental task of establishing a government-in-exile. He became the Prime Minister of the Bangladesh government in exile at Mujibnagar and organised the war of liberation. The Mujibnagar Government, proclaimed on 17 April 1971, was not merely a symbolic gesture—it was a functioning administration that coordinated the liberation war, managed international diplomacy, and laid the groundwork for the independent state that would emerge nine months later.

Ahmad's leadership during this critical period was characterised by pragmatism and strategic thinking. He understood that military action alone would not suffice; the independence movement needed legitimacy, organisation, and international support. Under his guidance, the provisional government established diplomatic relations, organised the Mukti Bahini (liberation forces), and created the administrative framework that would transition into the independent state's governance structure.

The Principled Politician

What distinguished Ahmad from many of his contemporaries was his unwavering commitment to democratic principles and constitutional governance. Unlike the populist politics that often characterised South Asian leadership, Ahmad believed in institutional integrity and the rule of law. This principled approach, while admirable, would later contribute to his political marginalisation.

Tajuddin's life was a long, ceaseless commitment to principles. Even after independence, when opportunities for personal enrichment and political manoeuvring abounded, Ahmad remained steadfast in his convictions. He believed in a parliamentary system of government, fiscal responsibility, and inclusive economic development—positions that sometimes put him at odds with the more populist tendencies of the time.

His vision for Bangladesh was that of a secular, democratic state with a mixed economy that could provide opportunities for all citizens. This vision, though prescient, was perhaps too sophisticated for a nation emerging from the trauma of war and struggling with immediate survival needs.

The Tragic Downfall

The greatest tragedy of Ahmad's story is not merely his assassination but the circumstances that led to his political eclipse. He resigned from the cabinet in 1974 to live a quiet life. This resignation was not born of personal ambition or political manoeuvring but of principled disagreement with the direction the country was taking.

Ahmad had grown increasingly concerned about the concentration of power, the suspension of democratic institutions, and the establishment of a one-party state. His opposition to these developments, while constitutionally sound, marked him as a potential threat to the new order. In late July 1975, he received a desperate call from a trusted source, warning him of a conspiracy to assassinate Bangabandhu. True to his loyal nature, he rushed to warn Sheikh Mujib, despite their political differences.

The assassination of Bangabandhu on 15 August 1975 sealed Ahmed's fate. Following Sheikh Mujib's assassination in a coup d'état, Tajuddin was arrested and assassinated on 3 November 1975 while in prison, along with three senior Awami League leaders. On 3 November 1975, just over two months after their capture, all four men were brutally assassinated—a flagrant violation of both prison regulations and the nation's legal framework.

This heinous act completed a systematic campaign to eliminate every key leader from the 1971 government. Only one figure from that era's leadership survived: Khondoker Mushtaque Ahmed, Tajuddin's former colleague in the government-in-exile, who had conspired with pro-Pakistani forces to orchestrate this carnage. Even during the 1971 struggle, Mushtaque's loyalty had been questionable, though Tajuddin had managed to contain his subversive influence and prevent him from undermining the independence cause. The 1975 assassinations represented the ultimate settling of scores—revenge finally seizing its moment.

The manner of his death was particularly barbaric. The four senior leaders of the Awami League were killed with "bullets and bayonets" by those opposed to Bangladesh's liberation, working closely with Bangabandhu's assassins. As he went down the stairway of his residence in August 1975, a man in army custody, Tajuddin told his wife he might be going away forever. These words proved prophetic, and his widow was left to raise their children alone, struggling against both poverty and the political ostracism that followed.

Historical Injustice and the Need for Rectification

The treatment of Tajuddin Ahmad's legacy represents one of the most glaring injustices in Bangladesh's historical narrative. While other leaders have been celebrated with monuments, institutions, and extensive biographical works, Ahmad has remained largely in the shadows. This oversight is not merely academic—it represents a fundamental misrepresentation of the independence struggle and the values upon which the nation was founded.

Several factors contributed to the historical marginalisation of Tajuddin Ahmad. First, his principled opposition to authoritarian tendencies made him inconvenient for successive governments that preferred compliant historical narratives. Second, his intellectual approach to politics and governance lacked the populist appeal that resonates with mass political movements. Third, Tajuddin's assassination removed his voice from post-independence political discourse, leaving his legacy in the hands of others with different priorities.

Moreover, the political dynamics of post-independence Bangladesh meant that acknowledging Ahmad's contributions might have implied criticism of other leaders' actions. This created a climate where his role was systematically minimised.

The Case for Restoration

The time has come for Bangladesh to rectify this historical injustice and properly acknowledge Tajuddin Ahmad's contributions. This is not merely about historical accuracy—though that alone would justify the effort—but about reclaiming the values and vision that he represented.

Ahmad's commitment to democratic governance, constitutional propriety, and inclusive development remains relevant to contemporary Bangladesh. His understanding that independence was not merely about political sovereignty but about creating institutions that serve the people offers valuable lessons for current challenges.

The resurrection of Ahmad's legacy should involve several concrete steps. Educational curricula should properly reflect his role in the independence struggle and post-liberation governance. Public institutions should bear his name, and scholarship programmes should support research into his contributions. Most importantly, his political philosophy and approach to governance should be studied and discussed as part of the ongoing effort to strengthen Bangladesh's democratic institutions.

Conclusion

Tajuddin Ahmad was more than Bangladesh's first Prime Minister—he was the architect of its independence struggle and a visionary leader whose principled approach to governance offers enduring lessons. His assassination was not merely the loss of a political leader but the silencing of a voice that advocated for the democratic values and institutional integrity that any nation needs to thrive.

The failure to properly honour his memory represents not just ingratitude toward a founding father but a fundamental misunderstanding of the values that should guide the nation he helped create. Bangladesh's journey towards fulfilling its founding promise remains incomplete as long as leaders like Tajuddin Ahmad are kept in the shadows.

Tajuddin was merely 50 years old when he was murdered, leaving behind a young family and an unfinished vision for his country. The ultimate tribute to his memory would be the creation of the democratic, just, and prosperous Bangladesh he envisioned—a goal that requires first acknowledging the debt the nation owes to this forgotten architect of independence.

In remembering Tajuddin Ahmad, we remember not just a man but a set of principles that transcend individual personalities and political calculations. His resurrection in the national consciousness is not about partisan politics but about reclaiming the values of integrity, service, and democratic governance that he embodied. Bangladesh deserves to know and honour this remarkable leader who gave everything for his country and asked for nothing in return.

The prevailing impulse to diminish our heritage of struggle and liberation while undermining the legacy of our founding fathers portends troubling times for our nation. The ramifications manifest themselves with stark clarity: diminished leaders stumble through obscurity, stripped of wisdom and bereft of any sense of national purpose, while our directionless state founders amid tempestuous waters. What we urgently require is another sagacious and prescient leader of Tajuddin Ahmed's stature—one capable of delivering us from our own folly.

K A S Murshid, an economist, served with the Foreign Ministry of the Mujibnagar Government during the Liberation War in 1971.​

 

[Saif]

Tajuddin Ahmad at 100

Tajuddin Ahmad would be a centenarian on 23 July. He was a mere fifty years old when he was assassinated in November 1975. Yet in those brief five decades of his life, he achieved a feat rare in the history of political men. He rose to the peaks of leadership in the brilliance emitted by Bangabandh

thefinancialexpress.com.bd

Tajuddin Ahmad at 100
Reflections on wartime leader

Syed Badrul Ahsan
Published :
Jul 24, 2025 23:24
Updated :
Jul 24, 2025 23:24

Tajuddin Ahmad would be a centenarian on 23 July. He was a mere fifty years old when he was assassinated in November 1975. Yet in those brief five decades of his life, he achieved a feat rare in the history of political men. He rose to the peaks of leadership in the brilliance emitted by Bangabandhu and remained there till almost the very end. In between, he managed to pull off what was certainly the most significant success in its long socio-political narrative for the Bengali nation, the formation of the very first Bengali government in history and the liberation of Bangladesh. That was his moment of glory.

In recent years, a necessary revival of interest in the life and career of Tajuddin Ahmad, given the callous and deliberate manner in which he has been ignored by the post-1975 Awami League leadership, has served to add the missing links to Bangladesh’s national history. Much of the revival is again a result of the strenuous efforts put into the story of the wartime leader by his daughters Sharmin Ahmad, Simeen Hossain Rimi and Mahjabin Ahmad Mimi. They have had Tajuddin’s life, in the form of biographies, letters and diaries, researched and transcribed in Bangla and published in immaculate form. Add to the story Tanvir Mokammel’s remarkable biopic, ‘Tajuddin Ahmad: Nishshongo Sharothi’, on the nation’s first Prime Minister.

Maidul Hasan’s Muldhara ’71 and Faruk Aziz Khan’s Spring 1971 have additionally highlighted the intellectual politics Tajuddin Ahmad brought into play in steering the nation to victory on the battlefield. The Mahbub Karim-edited Tajuddin Ahmad: Neta O Manush’ and Badruddin Ahmad’s Muktijuddher Mohanayok Tajuddin Ahmad have been commendable appraisals of the great man’s life and career. These works are touching tributes to the humble, austere man who has, especially since his assassination in 1975, become an icon for students of history. They have offered his legacy anew to a nation that might well have been blown off course had he not been around to take charge.

Back in March 1971, the risk for Bengalis was double-edged. On the one hand was the reality of Bangabandhu’s captivity at the hands of the Pakistan army. On the other, there was no clear sign of anyone else in the Awami League hierarchy, at least up to that point, taking control and reassuring the country that everything was on course, or soon would be. The call of duty was one that Tajuddin Ahmad heard loud and clear. By the time he crossed the border, he knew that exile, his and that of everyone else in those times of horror, would need to be purposeful. He lost little time in linking up with Indira Gandhi and laying out before her his plans of Bangladesh’s road to liberation.

Tajuddin could not have been happy, post-liberation, at being relegated to the job of Finance Minister once Bangabandhu took charge as Prime Minister, but his acute sense of loyalty precluded demonstrating any hint of his displeasure. Discipline was a lesson he had learned early on in life. He was not inclined to verbosity. He was not an orator. It was his organisational abilities which complemented the inspirational leadership of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman. These two men, more than anyone else in the party, were the reason why Bangladesh needed to be. On their watch in the early 1960s came the Six Points. In early March 1971, as Yahya Khan and Zulfikar Ali Bhutto resorted to chicanery, it was deep-rooted Mujib-Tajuddin strength that kept them at bay, until the junta unleashed the dogs of war.

That was not the only tragedy. Somewhere between cobbling the Mujibnagar government into shape in 1971 and making his way out of government in 1974, Tajuddin was a lonely, persecuted traveller. Sheikh Fazlul Haq Moni and his band of Young Turks undermined the nation’s first Prime Minister in 1971 even as he defined military and political strategy for a nation at war. There were other troubles as well. Tajuddin had constantly to look back, behind his shoulder, for there was an odour of conspiracy in Khondokar Moshtaque. Tajuddin’s loneliness took on newer dimensions in early 1972. The men who had never forgiven him for taking control of the liberation struggle now drove a wedge between him and his leader.

It was Tajuddin Ahmad’s sadness that he could not come by the opportunity to explain to Bangladesh’s founder how he and his colleagues had organised the armed struggle for freedom. It seared the soul in the battlefield leader to know that the Father of the Nation had little time for him. Worrying too for him was Bangabandhu’s move towards a definitive shift in foreign policy. A clear trend towards developing ties with the United States (US) and towards closer association with donor institutions such as the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund (IMF) left Tajuddin perturbed. He had studiously ignored Robert McNamara in early 1972. And yet it was McNamara he was compelled by circumstances to meet in 1974, at a time when famine stalked the land and socialism did not appear to hold much promise for Bangladesh.

There was something of the abrupt about Tajuddin’s departure from government. Disillusioned, he spoke of resignation and told perhaps a lot of people about it. In the end, the satisfaction of leaving government voluntarily was not to be his. It was Bangabandhu who asked him, in the larger national interest (as his terse note to Tajuddin pointed out), in October 1974 to submit his resignation. Tajuddin Ahmad complied with the directive. Between that low point in his life and the end of life itself, he would lapse into silence. The assault on pluralist democracy, through the rise of the one-party BAKSAL system of government in January 1975, appalled him.

It was the statesmanship in him that informed him of the tragedy ahead. Conditions were coming to a pass where Bangabandhu would be destroyed, he reasoned, for his enemies were gathering around him, indeed closing in on him in sinister fashion. And with Bangabandhu gone, Tajuddin and everyone else would be pushed towards doom. And that was precisely the way things happened. As he went down the stairway of his residence in August 1975, a man in army custody, Tajuddin told his wife he might be going away forever. He was to return home in November, shot and bayoneted to an ugly death.

It is the quiet legend of the man that was Tajuddin Ahmad which Bengalis have not forgotten. In the darkness that swept across the country on 15 August 1975, there were yet the intimations of light at the end of the tunnel. Someday Tajuddin Ahmad might again take charge, as he had taken charge in April 1971, and restore the nation’s self-esteem? Someday the dreams he and Bangabandhu had forged together in their halcyon days would be born anew?

But that was not to be. That has been Bangladesh’s long agony, its indigenous Greek tragedy, often punctuated by Shakespearean despair.​

 

[Saif]

A real leader is one who perceives everyone's sufferings

Sharmin Ahmad is the eldest daughter of Tajuddin Ahmad, Bangladesh's first prime minister, the centre-point of Bangladesh's government-in-exile during the liberation war. In an interview with Prothom Alo's editor Matiur Rahman taken on 10 November 2024, she spoke about Tajuddin Ahmed as a...

en.prothomalo.com

Interview: Sharmin Ahmad on father Tajuddin's 100th birth anniversary
A real leader is one who perceives everyone's sufferings
Sharmin Ahmad

Sharmin Ahmad is the eldest daughter of Tajuddin Ahmad, Bangladesh's first prime minister, the centre-point of Bangladesh's government-in-exile during the liberation war. In an interview with Prothom Alo's editor Matiur Rahman taken on 10 November 2024, she spoke about Tajuddin Ahmed as a father, a leader and, most importantly, as a man. It was Tajuddin Ahmad's 100th birth anniversary on 23 July this year and this interview is being published in three parts on the occasion. Today we publish Part 1 of the interview.

Prothom Alo: Matiur Rahman: Today we have come to our studio to speak with Sharmin Ahmad, the eldest daughter of Tajuddin Ahmad, the prime minister of the independent Bangladesh government during the Liberation War. Sharmin Ahmed is also known as Ripi. Her mother Zohra Tajuddin was the vice president of Bangladesh Mahila Parishad. I had close connect to Zohra Tajuddin since the end of the seventies and this bond remained for life. I recall interviewing Zohra Tajuddin in November 1993. It was a long interview, published across three days in Bhorer Kagoj. It had created quite a stir at the time. I had met Tajuddin Ahmed three times when he had been the finance minister.

Tajuddin Ahmad is coming more and more into the forefront of Bangladesh's political discourse and in the media too. We published a book from Prothoma -- 'Tajuddin Namey Ekjon Prodhan Montri Chhilen' (There was a prime minister called Tajuddin Ahmed). In the meantime, it seemed that we had been forgetting that he had been the prime minister of Bangladesh at one of its most difficult times. Now I will talk with Sharmin Ahmad about Tajuddin Ahmad as a father, as a leader and most importantly as a human being.

In these new times and new circumstances, we would like to talk to you about Tajuddin Ahmad, his life, his education, his role as a father, as a leader, and as a person. We know that Tajuddin Ahmad was quite brilliant from childhood. In the matric examination, he ranked 12th among all students in what was then East Pakistan. Later, he sat for his intermediate exams from college and, if I’m not mistaken, placed fourth in the Dhaka Division. Though he studied economics at Dhaka University, he couldn’t complete his master’s degree. Later, while in jail, he passed the law examination. He was a politically conscious activist. He engaged in various activities at the time. He also kept a regular diary. This process of a leader taking shape, his studies at school, college, and university, his diary writing, his involvement in different activities—how do you view your father through all of this?

Sharmin Ahmad: This is a very wonderful question you’ve asked. You’ve already provided the context: a leader doesn’t suddenly emerge. It never happens suddenly. It comes from a lifelong discipline, from daily habits. That’s how character is built.

I remember, when I was about four or five years old, Abbu hadn’t yet been imprisoned. He had been in jail every now and then. He went away for an extended time on 8 May of 1966 and was released in 1969.

What did he do before that? Every morning at dawn, he would wake me and my younger sister Rimi, right at Fajr time. After that, he would say his prayers, and then he’d take us out in the morning. Marching us along, saying “left-right, left-right,” we’d walk through Dhanmondi’s Road 21 toward Satmasjid Road. There were many bakul trees along the way. And there was something else he always did—if a tree branch had fallen, or there was any trash lying around, he would pick it up. He would tell us, “Pick it up, too. This isn’t right. These things shouldn’t be here.” And what I noticed in all this was that, even though we were just little kids, even if we were half-asleep, he wouldn’t excuse us.

He’d say, “If you wake up early in the morning, everything else gets easier. And if you want to do good work, you must build the habit of rising early.” And he not only would say that he truly lived that himself.

Another thing I saw in him, he always kept his word. If he told someone, “Alright, I’ll see you,” or “Yes, I’ll come,” it wasn’t said casually. He would pause and think. He would really consider, ten times over, before making a promise, whether he could actually keep it. Another trait he had was deep compassion, for people, and also for animals and birds.

Prothom Alo: Matiur Rahman: We find this in various writings of your siblings, that he would plant trees at your Dhanmondi house – mango trees, other trees, flower plants. And he would tend to them himself, weed them. He would care for animals too, take you all to the zoo to see the animals. As you were saying, about his connection to nature...

Sharmin Ahmad: When we used to walk with him in the mornings, there were stray dogs along the way. My father would bring them home. Rimi used to be a bit scared of them. Then my father and I would bathe the dogs with soap, feed them, and care for them. That’s how we ended up looking after five or six dogs at home. They would play with us.

I believe a truly great leader is someone who understands suffering in its totality, someone who can feel the pain not only of people, but also of dogs, cats, birds, any living being. Only then can one be a genuinely good leader.

The person who sows the seeds of beauty in the unseen corners, he has integrity. It’s something broader than honesty.

Prothom Alo : Matiur Rahman: We would see him taking part in all sorts of meetings and discussions, he would regularly mingle with the old and the young. He would get involved in all sorts of work, big and small. He developed his leadership through a process. He had been Awami League's cultural secretary, social welfare secretary. Then organising secretary. And then the general secretary. He didn't suddenly become a leader through anyone's influence or by money or any such thing. His diaries are clear evidence of that evolution. He has published five of his diaries so far. What are your reflections or observations on what shaped his political growth.

Sharmin Ahmad: There’s an English word, "integrity". It has an extensive meaning. It means doing what is right, the act of compassion, act of love, and act of beauty, to do those acts even if no one sees it. Someone who keeps doing those things unceasingly, even when no one is watching, has integrity. The person who sows the seeds of beauty in the unseen corners, he has integrity. It’s something broader than honesty.

Let me recount an incident of a bulbul bird. My books talks about the 1970 cyclone when many people took shelter in our home. The cyclone struct on 12 November. A bulbul bird had built its next in a money plant that grew in a flower pot in our verandah. My father would always take care of the bird. he had perhaps forgot to bring it in at the time, but the fact is that the bird died. Mother had sent me to call my father. I found him cradling the dead bulbul bird in his hands, crying. When he saw me, he looked a little embarrassed. He didn’t eat properly that day. He kept regretting, “How could I forget it?” He never blamed anyone else. He never said, you didn’t remind me, or you didn’t bring this to my notice. He was such a busy man, and it was election time. Yet in that moment, all he could think of was the bulbul. He told my mother, "How could I make that mistake? I gave shelter to so many people, Lily, yet I forgot to bring in the bulbul." Later, when I grew older, I realised, this is called humanity. He was a born leader, born humanitarian, born statesman—one who carries within him sorrow of even a little bulbul bird.

Prothom Alo: Matiur Rahman: I read of an incident in your book this morning. A boy of the village has died due to a mistake. His name was Aziz and your father was very pained at his death. He had arranged his medical treatment, given 13 ounces of blood, but the youth couldn't be saved. This had created quite a commotion, even threats of a lawsuit and such. But he managed to bring things under control, forge an understanding. This kind of thinking is what the world talks about today; a person’s view of life -- is reconciliation a path out of conflict?

Sharmin Ahmad: Certainly, reconciliation, not letting things get out of hand, creating a common ground. In that incident, a shot was accidentally fired from a gentleman’s rifle and hit the boy. When they were about to file a case over the incident, he brought both parties together and explained that it had been a mistake. The bond of goodwill he fostered between the two previously hostile sides still remains to this day.

If you remember the Liberation War of 1971, Ziaur Rahman named his force “Z Force”. At that time, General Osmani was a bit upset. He said, “How can he just name it himself? There was a process. He didn’t consult us.” So, it looked like a conflict was emerging between Ziaur Rahman and General Osmani. Then my father said, “Okay, if he names it the Z Force, we have 10 other sectors. So let Khaled Mosharraf name his force as K, others like Shafiullah name their Force as S.” That way, everyone was equal. And the dispute stopped right there.

Prothom Alo : Matiur Rahman: At the very beginning of the Liberation War, Tajuddin Ahmad crossed the border at Kushtia, went through Kolkata, and then on to Delhi. On 4 April he met with Indira Gandhi and completed the preliminary groundwork for the war. Decisions were made on what speeches would be delivered, what form the constitution would take, and so on.

What we later saw was that, throughout the war, a significant faction within Awami League, known as the Mujib Bahini, consistently tried to obstruct and oppose the Liberation War that was being led under Tajuddin Ahmad’s leadership. There were even attempts to relieve him of that responsibility. Yet, we observe that he tried to work inclusively, bringing everyone on board regardless of party affiliation. You will remember we did a book on the Siliguri Conference titled "1971: Siliguri Sammilon" (1971: The Siliguri Conference).

Sharmin Ahmad: A meeting was held with the participation of most members of parliament, members of the National Assembly, and members of the Provincial Assembly, where discussions took place. From that meeting, support for Tajuddin Ahmad’s leadership was affirmed, and the Liberation War was conducted under his leadership.​

 

[Saif]

Tajuddin Ahmad was a key architect of the Six-Point Movement, that's an established fact

The intellect and diplomatic skill he demonstrated in bringing a global power on board is something that today’s generation can feel proud about

en.prothomalo.com

Tajuddin Ahmad was a key architect of the Six-Point Movement, that's an established fact
Sharmin Ahmad

Sharmin Ahmad is the eldest daughter of Tajuddin Ahmad, Bangladesh's first prime minister, the centre of Bangladesh's government-in-exile during the liberation war. In an interview with Prothom Alo's editor Matiur Rahman taken on 10 November 2024, she spoke about Tajuddin Ahmed as a father, a leader and, most importantly, as a man. It was Tajuddin Ahmad's 100th birth anniversary on 23 July this year and this interview is being published in three parts on the occasion. Today we publish Part 2 of the interview.

Updated: 25 Jul 2025, 13: 21

Matiur Rahman: Given all the opposition, hurdles and obstacles, Tajuddin Ahmed faced a difficult test of going forward along with everyone, and he passed with flying colours...

Sharmin Ahmad: The non-cooperation movement that Tajuddin Ahmad organised against the Pakistani government in 1971 was unprecedented. His organising technique was so skillful in every aspect, from when and how much money to withdraw from the banking sector to the roles of students, teachers, and engineers. His lifelong preparation served him well in that turbulent time in 1971. He had no directives about what to do, if a government would be formed or not. He received no instructions on those matters.

Yet, he managed things so beautifully because of his lifelong preparation. Leading a nation’s liberation war was extremely difficult because he faced obstacles from within, from within his own people. On the other hand, there was the Indian intelligence with its own agenda, posing another obstacle. And at the same time, there was external opposition from the United States, Pakistan, and China.

Consider this small example of his profound knowledge of foreign policy. When India was still unable to provide us with weapons properly, it was because India had China on one side and Pakistan and the United States (adverse powers at that time) on the other. The geopolitical and strategic alignment then was different from today. In that situation, India also felt that it had no major power beside it. We know about India’s role to bring the Soviet Union to our side in the Liberation War. Because India shaped and narrated our Liberation War story, we didn’t raise our own war narratives from our side. Now it pains me because it’s our story, our heroic tale, the sacrifices of our naval commandos, our airmen. In fact, before India retaliated against Pakistan, our air force was telling India, “We will attack first.” Just imagine how suicidal and daring that was! Where is that story in our air force history, in our school and college textbooks?

It is astonishing how he managed nine or ten years’ work in nine months! The Soviet Union said, "We stood by India for Bangladesh." They saw astute leadership here.

Through the Bangladesh Policy Cell, Tajuddin convincingly explained Bangladesh’s foreign policy vision, its geopolitical thinking and how they were working to build a newborn state. This played a key role in the signing of the India-Soviet Friendship Treaty in August. Behind that treaty lay the remarkable contribution of the Bangladesh government and Tajuddin Ahmad. The intellect and diplomatic skill he demonstrated in bringing a global power on board is something the more today’s generation learns about, the prouder they will feel.

That Tajuddin Ahmad was one of the main architects of the six-point-demand is an established fact. Rehman Sobhan, who was involved in the drafting the Six Points, himself says very few people understood the logic and economic policies behind it as deeply as Tajuddin Ahmad did

Matiur Rahman: At the same time, the Indian government, the other leftist democratic state governments of India, supported these initiatives taken by Tajuddin Ahmad and the Bangladesh government in exile. And globally, a coalition emerged in support of India—comprising the Soviet Union and all its allied states, along with other powers that also played a role. In this context, an all-party Advisory Council for the Liberation War was formed. Though the council could not function effectively, Tajuddin Ahmad played a major role in its formation and made significant efforts to establish it, despite opposition from within his own party. He strove to work inclusively, not only with his own party members but also by bringing in others from outside the party. That is how leaders like Maulana Bhashani, Manoranjan Dhar, the Congress Party, the National Awami Party, and the Communist Party were brought together to form the Advisory Council. The credit for this goes to Tajuddin Ahmad.

Sharmin Ahmad: He wanted to unite all parties for this at a national level. There were some people in the party who said they wouldn’t include the opposition.
Matiur Rahman : Let me take you back a little. A few days after he left, Zohra Tajuddin received a small note: “I’ve gone. We couldn’t meet. You too should blend in with the seventy million people, and we will meet again after the success of the Liberation War.” Three months later, you all went to Kolkata. At the time, the policy of the expatriate government during the Liberation War was that no one would lead a family life. That’s why he stayed in his office. This way of life, we saw it in him from childhood through to later years. Do you remember anything about that life in Kolkata—those days, those stories you may have heard from your mother?

Sharmin Ahmad: At that time, I was eleven years old, so many memories remain vivid and bright in my mind. When my mother received the note, it said, “Lily, I couldn’t say anything before I left, please forgive me. You and the children should blend in with the seventy-five million people. I don’t know when we’ll meet again. Yours, Dolon Champa.”
Isn’t that beautiful? A man, a wartime politician, and he signs his name as “Dolon Champa.” So poetic! That was one of both my parents’ favourite flowers. Whenever my mother saw a dolon champa, she knew it was from my father. Even now, when I visit his final resting place, I take dolon champa flowers with me, his favourite. My mother loved jasmine flowers, so I bring those for her.

On 25 May 1971, on or around the birth anniversary of poet Kazi Nazrul, we crossed the border. After we arrived, my mother was eager to tell my father everything that had happened. At one point, the Pakistan Army held a sten gun to her chest. She was fluent in Urdu, and that saved her life, she pretended to be a tenant and escaped. Our names were on a death list. They said Tajuddin was their main enemy, as you know.

Rao Farman, Khadim Hossain Raja, even Bhutto—their writings mention: “Our real enemy is Tajuddin Ahmad.” We were on that death list. My mother would say, “These terrifying stories must be told—Tajuddin needs to know.” But Tajuddin Ahmad only answered the phone late at night. At that time, we were at the residence of Hossain Ali Sahib, who had declared his allegiance to the Bangladesh government. My father told him, “I’ll come at night.”

Matiur Rahman : That’s where you first took shelter.

Sharmin Ahmad: That's where we stayed at first. We went to Sonamura, Bakhsnagar, Agartala, various places and ended up at Kolkata at his place. My father said, "Oh, you've arrived? Okay, I'll see you tonight." Then he came around 1:00 am. I can remember vividly, I was awake, eagerly waiting for my father to arrive. I was reading a book on the verandah when I saw my father entering the house with Hossain Ali. He came and stroked my head, and do you know what the first thing was that he asked? He patted my head and asked, "What's the situation of the liberation war? What are the activities of our freedom fighters in Kapasia?" He was asking this to an 11-year-old girl. He was so dedicated. Then I also told him that our boys from Kapasia were trained in the areas of Uttar Khamer and Dakshin Khamer. From there, they joined the war. They looted the Kapasia police station and got some arms and ammunition and were using these to confront the Pakistani forces.

Hossain Ali had knocked and my mother opened the door. Standing at the doorway, my father just looked at Sohel, Mimi, and Rimi who were asleep. He told my mother, "Lily, we in the cabinet have pledged that we will not live a family life until the country is independent." He said, “This is a government officer's house. It is not wise to stay here. You will be moved as soon as possible." He said all this perhaps in one or two minutes. My mother later said, "I looked at Tajuddin in amazement. Who is this? What a great human being! I expressed my solidarity with his groundbreaking decision. And just looked at him and conveyed my understanding through my eyes. And he, too, just looked at me and let me know he had understood." How beautiful!

Tajuddin Ahmad

To be continued...................​