[🇧🇩] Student Revolution: Lessons from Bangladesh

[Saif]

Daring to defend the anti-discrimination student movement

I don’t think Hasina fell because of my writing. Then why do I continue writing?

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Daring to defend the anti-discrimination student movement

In the second half of that month, the government sought to eliminate the student protesters by means of point-black shootings, airstrikes from helicopters, and other violent measures. PHOTO: AMRAN HOSSAIN

Some academics, journalists, and writers – including myself – started discussing the formation of the Forum for Bangladesh Studies in 2021. It was officially launched on October 10, 2022. Under the aegis of the forum, I have had the opportunity to work closely with some of the best minds of our country, including Dr Badiul Alam Majumdar.

My involvement with the forum helped me become more conscious of what was going on in Bangladesh during the 15-year autocratic rule of Sheikh Hasina. It also brought on a greater sense of urgency for me to write and publish opinion pieces devoted to issues of the day and taking the Hasina regime to task. However, I was perturbed by the fear of possible government reprisals.

After reading some of my essays critical of the Hasina government, one well-meaning academic friend once cautioned me saying, "Be careful." I understood his message but couldn't stop writing. His kind concern for my safety increased my respect for him.

I shared my disquiet with Dr Badiul Alam Majumdar. He told me that if we stopped writing, that would embolden the repressive regime, and if many of us wrote, it would be difficult to hound us. He added that he kept raising voice against the regime's abuse of power to have a clear conscience. I agreed with him and increased the volume of my writing on what was happening in Bangladeshi politics.

However, despite conquering my fear of government oppression, I faced an unforeseen backlash from some of my friends. My stance against Hasina's autocracy alarmed them. Like me, they hated the regime to the bone, but they didn't consider it safe to maintain communication with someone who wrote columns in newspapers criticising the government. They went to the extent of not answering my phone calls; I respected their standpoint and stopped calling them.

I failed to see much logic in being overly fearful. I thought it was important to show solidarity with brave and courageous writers and journalists who were writing from within Bangladesh against the oppression of the Hasina regime. Moreover, the newspaper editors who published my writings were all based in Bangladesh. So, living thousands of miles away from the country, why should I be scared?

Then came the anti-discrimination student movement in July 2024. In the second half of that month, the government retaliated against student protesters with point-black shootings, airstrikes from helicopters, and other violent measures. Generally, an invading force uses such methods to subdue an occupied nation. But our own security forces used them, killing and maiming thousands of our students in broad daylight. Images of the cruelty of the government were unbearable—they had a chilling effect on me.

At the same time, I was outraged to see that some of our intellectual elites were providing the government with intellectual cover-ups while our unarmed students were being killed en masse. I understood their security concerns, but I thought that, at the very least, they could remain reticent. Instead, they chose to abet autocracy. Perhaps, they thought that the regime would survive that wave of protests, and with time, things would once again fall in place.

Fear gripped all of us—in Bangladesh and in its diasporas. We could not anticipate such a murderous venture by the Hasina government to quell the student movement, nor did we comprehend the logic behind using our security forces to kill our young people in the streets.

I suffered from a severe Hamletian dilemma. Shall I or shall I not write about the government repression on the student protesters? I wanted to write, but would my writing jeopardise the security of my family members in Bangladesh?

The internal battle within me was raging. It was between my urge to rise to the occasion and write, and the need to consider the safety of my family members back home. As I was torn between these two dominant emotions, on July 30, I received a request from a journalist friend in Dhaka, saying, "If possible, please write a piece on the student movement… we all are distraught. But we are speaking."

This message reinforced the severity of the situation and the urgency to speak up. It boosted my morale and I shed my fear and hesitancy. I immediately produced two essays: "What leads students to defy death on streets" (New Age, July 31, 2024) and "Violence against students: A tribute to our little John Hampdens" (The Daily Star, August 4, 2024).

I had written "Hasina's memory-killing tactics and our responsibility" before Hasina fell and fled on August 5. But it was published afterwards, on August 7.

In post-Hasina Bangladesh, my friends who sought to distance themselves from me now answer my phone calls. Intellectual elites who were hesitant until the morning of August 5 to call a spade a spade now describe Hasina's rule as an autocracy. Many of them who adjusted with the Hasina regime then are now readjusting with the interim government and with the new reality. They lived a comfortable life then and may continue to do so now. But I have great respect for those writers and journalists who wrote and spoke against Hasina's autocracy at a time when others didn't consider it prudent to do so. I feel morally privileged that I belong to this group.

Did my writings over the years shake Hasina's autocracy? Did they help mitigate the sufferings of people in Bangladesh and elsewhere? Or, did they embolden the anti-discrimination student movement? The answers to all these questions are probably in the negative. Not many writers are able to make a material difference in society through their writings. In "In Memory of WB Yeats," the Anglo-American poet WH Auden writes in reference to his fellow litterateur WB Yeats's literary career:

Mad Ireland hurt you into poetry.

Now Ireland has her madness and her weather still,

For poetry makes nothing happen.

Yeats's literary career was largely inspired by the troubles in his country, Ireland, and he wrote to fix them. But, according to Auden, Yeats's work didn't do much to establish peace and stability in Ireland. Likewise, Hasina's autocracy got me out of my academic cocoon and motivated me to write essays on down-to-earth issues that affected Bangladesh during her rule.

But I don't think Hasina fell because of my writing. Why do I continue writing then? To use Dr Badiul Alam Majundar's words, I write out of a need to have a clear conscience. Regardless of its effects on others, my writerly commitment to noble causes serves as a source of moral comfort for me. This is very important to me. I would like to end this essay with a relevant quote from the 11th century polymath Ibn Hazm, "It seems unworthy of a man to consecrate himself to something which is not higher than he is…. One who consecrates himself to lesser things is like one who trades a precious gem for a pebble."

Dr Md Mahmudul Hasan is professor of English at International Islamic University Malaysia.​

 

[Saif]

Rethinking nationalism in the wake of Bangladesh’s uprising

If the country is to rebuild itself, it must establish a national identity that unites its citizens and secures the future of the state.

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Rethinking nationalism in the wake of Bangladesh’s uprising

In the wake of the 2024 uprising, the intellectual debate on nationalism will be crucial for shaping Bangladesh’s future. FILE PHOTO: PALASH KHAN
The 2024 student-public uprising in Bangladesh has reignited a critical conversation about the future of nationalism in the country. At the heart of this dialogue is the tension between Bangalee nationalism, born from the liberation movement of 1971, and Bangladeshi nationalism, which has been touted as an alternative. Mahfuj Alam, an important figure in the uprising, recently gave a speech that has gone viral, advocating for a shift towards a more inclusive and tolerant form of nationalism. His reflections raise important questions about the relationship between the state, society, and the individual.

Mahfuj's core argument revolves around the necessity of reforming the individual's moral character in order to reform society, which, in turn, would lead to the reform of the state. This bottom-up approach emphasises the role of personal ethics and social change as the foundations for state-building. His call for a shift away from Bangalee nationalism towards a more inclusive framework challenges the foundational ideas that have shaped Bangladesh's identity since its independence. However, this argument overlooks the complex interplay between the state and the individual and risks simplifying the path towards a more inclusive and tolerant nation.

At the crux of Mahfuj's speech is the idea that the state cannot achieve moral integrity unless its citizens first cultivate their own. This line of thinking, while partially valid, turns the relationship between the individual and the state into a one-way street. It places the burden of societal reform on the individual, ignoring the role the state itself plays in shaping the moral and ethical fabric of society. Institutions, laws, and policies are powerful tools that can influence and guide individual morality. In fact, they are often essential in protecting individuals from moral decline.
A more nuanced understanding of the relationship between the state and the individual would recognise it as a two-way process. The state has a responsibility to foster an environment where individuals can develop moral character, but individuals alone cannot bear the full burden of societal reform.

Mahfuj's vision of state-building through a bottom-up approach, where individuals and society must first be reformed before the state can be rebuilt, reflects a classical liberal view of the state. Yet, this approach can be slow and unwieldy, especially in moments of crisis like the present one. In contrast, top-down approaches, where the state takes the lead in reforming institutions and shaping societal norms, are often more effective in times of urgency. While bottom-up reform is necessary for long-term change, moments of national crisis demand swift, decisive action that only top-down approaches can deliver.

A key point in Mahfuj's argument is his call for a paradigm shift in nationalism, moving away from the secularism of 1971-based Bangalee nationalism towards a new, more inclusive form of nationalism. He critiques Bangalee nationalism as exclusionary, arguing that the rise of authoritarianism in Bangladesh has its roots in the secular framework established after 1971.

According to Mahfuj, the secularism that underpinned Bangalee nationalism failed to be inclusive, leading to the alienation of various social and religious groups, and, ultimately, contributing to the rise of authoritarianism. His vision is one of a secularism that embraces all ideologies and paths in the land, one that is more inclusive and reflective of the diversity within Bangladesh.

This critique of Bangalee nationalism is not without merit. The secularism that was central to the formation of Bangladesh in 1971 has indeed struggled to accommodate the full spectrum of identities within the country. However, Mahfuj's proposed solution—a complete break from Bangalee nationalism—raises its own set of questions. Is it truly necessary to abandon Bangalee nationalism altogether? Or can secularism be reinterpreted in a way that addresses its historical shortcomings while preserving the legacy of the liberation struggle?

The issue at hand may not be Bangalee nationalism itself but rather how its principles have been applied. If secularism were reimagined to include the diverse perspectives that Mahfuj envisions, it could serve as the basis for a reformed Bangalee nationalism that is capable of guiding Bangladesh through its current challenges. This would eliminate the need for a wholesale shift to a new nationalist paradigm, such as Bangladeshi nationalism, and would allow for a continuity of national identity rooted in the history of the 1971 struggle.

Mahfuj's call for a new nationalism, framed as a shift from Bangalee to Bangladeshi nationalism, also invites scrutiny. Can Bangladeshi nationalism, with its focus on a broader national identity, truly offer more inclusivity than a reformed Bangalee nationalism? And if it does, is that inclusivity inherent to Bangladeshi nationalism, or is it simply a matter of how secularism is applied within it? If the latter is true, then Bangladeshi nationalism may face the same application-based challenges as Bangalee nationalism has over the past five decades.

These debates are crucial as Bangladesh emerges from the 2024 uprising. The question of nationalism, and whether a paradigm shift is necessary, cannot remain unanswered for long. If the country is to rebuild itself, it must establish a national identity that unites its citizens and secures the future of the state.

The paradigm shift in nationalism that Mahfuj advocates may indeed be necessary, but only if it can offer a more inclusive, tolerant, and pragmatic path forward. Whether this shift comes through a reformed version of Bangalee nationalism or a move towards Bangladeshi nationalism remains to be seen. What is clear, however, is that any solution must address the deep-rooted issues of redemption, reconciliation, and inclusion that have haunted Bangladesh since 1971.

In the wake of the 2024 uprising, the intellectual debate on nationalism will be crucial for shaping Bangladesh's future. The state must address questions of identity and belonging to rebuild effectively. Beyond the immediate crisis, the focus should be on creating an inclusive and cohesive national identity. As Mahfuj rightly notes, the failures of redemption after 1971 must not be repeated. Moving forward, the state must reimagine its role in fostering an inclusive society that reflects the aspirations of all citizens.

Kazi ASM Nurul Huda is an associate professor of philosophy at the University of Dhaka and holds a PhD in philosophy from the University of Oklahoma, USA.​

 

[Saif]

Can you ‘mastermind’ an uprising?

The July uprising is too seismic to be credited to any individual

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Can you ‘mastermind’ an uprising?
The July uprising is too seismic to be credited to any individual

The student coordinators had no choice but to declare an all-out movement against the government—it was the demand of the moment, not a pre-
designed plan. Photo: PID

The July uprising claimed the lives of hundreds of people, but resulted in a seismic shift in the history of Bangladesh. The movement was a perfect storm brewed by a number of contributing factors that all seemed to align as if by divine intervention, resulting in the ouster of Sheikh Hasina's tyrannical regime. Thousands of activists took to the streets—students, workers, professionals, and intellectuals alike. Each contributed in their own way. Why, then, is there this search for a "mastermind" behind the entire movement?

This search for a mastermind cannot be solely blamed on the media or overenthusiastic social media users. Even the interim government's Chief Adviser Dr Muhammad Yunus introduced Mahfuj Alam as the brains behind the movement at an international event—although Mahfuj himself refused to be called the mastermind, a fact even the chief adviser alluded to. This reminds me of a quote from Friedrich Hayek, who said that the curious task of economics (or social science) is to show people how little they know about what they think they can design. Hayek was wrong about many things, but one of his ideas has withstood the test of time: the concept of spontaneous order. Following the trend of classical liberal thinkers before him, Hayek believed that order could arise from spontaneity.

Many social norms are established not by the enforcement of explicit rules but spontaneously for the sake of efficiency. I believe social movements follow a similar logic.

A social movement is shaped by many factors, with a plethora of internal and external actors playing their part. The July uprising was no exception. It is true that there was an organisation providing a backbone to the movement, with stellar leadership initiatives and a distribution of responsibilities that contributed to its success. When one group of leaders was picked up by security forces, another stepped up to guide the movement. The well-defined demands that evolved over time were also crucial in bringing the movement to its one-point conclusion.

The formulators of these demands and those who pushed for the final anti-regime stance deserve commendation. But calling them the "brains behind the movement" seems like an exaggeration. In fact, most leaders were and still are unknown to the public, aside from the two advisers to the interim government and a few recognisable faces repeatedly shown in the media. Many other leaders worked behind the scenes and deserve credit. But the point of my article is to argue that attributing credit to specific individuals is misguided.

In social science research, we often say that there are "spandrels"—developments that occur as a byproduct of various factors, including time and context, almost by (sometimes fortunate) accident. These factors cannot be ignored. As many film directors and novelists would say, there are more characters in a story than just protagonists and antagonists. Sometimes, the setting or time itself becomes a character. In a similar manner, I believe the primary actor in the July uprising was not an individual but the city, the moment, and the momentum of that moment. As events unfolded, the movement evolved, and the perfect conditions were created for it to propel forward.

If any one individual had not been present at that moment, the movement would not have faltered—others would likely have stepped in to make decisions. We cannot know if those decisions would have been as prudent, but the momentum of the moment demanded nothing less than what transpired. Even if key individuals had been replaced, the outcome would likely have been similar, as the movement had already taken on a life of its own.

Many people are congratulating and valorising the efforts of the coordinators, who have become national heroes. But other actors also played crucial roles, such as activists of opposing political parties, journalists who risked their lives, and expatriates who helped raise international awareness of the situation in Bangladesh. Their contributions cannot be overlooked. More importantly, the spontaneous order that defined the movement should receive primary credit for its success.

Thousands of people participated in the movement, risking their lives, writing on social media, and demanding the removal of an autocratic regime even before the one-point demand came about. Such widespread enthusiasm cannot be engineered—it can only be sparked by the momentum of the moment, which was the primary factor in the movement's success.

I am not undermining the efforts that the student leaders put in. They deserve credit for stewarding the movement. But can they really be called the masterminds, as if they planned every step and pre-designed the entire movement in their minds? Nobody could predict what would happen the next day as the movement progressed. The decision of the student leaders to launch the one-point programme upon their release from the custody of security forces was certainly pivotal, leading thousands to march to Ganabhaban on August 5. But the moral legitimacy of the Hasina regime—if there was any—had entirely vanished the moment the first bullet was fired at students. The student coordinators had no choice but to declare an all-out movement against the government—it was the demand of the moment, not a pre-designed plan.

In fact, I can attest to private conversations with movement leaders who confessed they never imagined the movement would become so massive and succeed in toppling the government during its early days. Hence, attributing the role of masterminds to the leaders is a bit of a stretch. It is natural for us to seek order and reason in historical events that defy explanation, but to claim that there was a mastermind behind the July uprising is to oversimplify a complex and multifaceted movement.​

 

[Saif]

July uprising: The garage of compassion

On July 18, Dhanmondi-27 had become one of the flashpoints when protesters took to the streets to enforce the “complete shutdown” called by the Anti-Discrimination Student Movement.

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July uprising: The garage of compassion
2 doctors set up makeshift clinic, saved over 100 lives in 2 days

On July 18, Dhanmondi-27 had become one of the flashpoints when protesters took to the streets to enforce the "complete shutdown" called by the Anti-Discrimination Student Movement.

As violent clashes broke out between the demonstrators and police, who were backed by the then ruling party activists, the roads and alleyways had turned into a warzone, resulting in deaths and myriad injuries.

However, many of those wounded were too afraid to seek medical help.

Cops were stationed in front of a number of hospitals, causing a fear of arrest in anyone who sought treatment. Many were overwhelmed with patients while others refused to provide treatment. Some charged exorbitant fees.

Amid the bloody violence, two young doctors – Dr Worthy Jukhrif and Dr Hritisha Aktar Mitheen – stood out through their sheer sense of duty.

Not only did they open their doors to the wounded, they converted their building's garage on Satmasjid Road into a makeshift clinic.

Other residents provided ample support with supplies -- bandages, antiseptics, orsaline, mineral water, and even dry biscuits.

In two days, Worthy and Mitheen treated over 100 injured people -- turning the garage into a sanctuary for those who had nowhere else to turn.

DUTY TO THE PEOPLE

Around 2:00pm on July 18, as clashes went on, tear gas clouded the streets and nearby alleys, while rubber bullets were strewn almost everywhere.

"For the first time in my life, I heard the sound of bullets. Something I had only seen or heard on television was now frighteningly close," remembered Worthy, who is an OT assistant at Ibn Sina Hospital and also works as a health show presenter on a private television channel.

From her balcony, she saw injured students huddled below -- bloodstains on their clothes, terror in their eyes.

"I knew I couldn't just stand by."

She rushed downstairs, where fellow residents -- including Dr Mitheen, a former medical officer at Labaid Specialised Hospital -- had also gathered.

"Humanity is what I acted upon. I couldn't hold myself back," said Mitheen.

Residents of the building quickly brought whatever first-aid supplies they could find.

One of the doctors' neighbours, Khurshid Jahan, said, "Seeing them wounded only reminded us that we have children too and we must act.

"As ordinary people, we had very little to offer, but I tried to provide as much comfort to the students as was possible while Dr Worthy and Dr Mitheen treated their wounds. My husband and daughter provided them with water, first-aid supplies and clothes."

At first, the wounded were being treated in the building's reception area. As more people arrived, two beds were set up in the garage and treatment continued there.

The doctors tried to provide utmost care – they removed pellets, dressed deep wounds and offered counselling.

Worthy said, "Some of the injuries were horrific – backs, heads and chests riddled with shotgun pellets lodged deep into their muscles. At least 10 victims came with pellets in their eyes."

The more severe cases were referred to trusted clinics that were willing to help, despite the fear of a ban hanging over their heads.

One particular patient left a lasting mark on Worthy – a 10-year-old who had come with pellets all over his body.

"I treated him and told him to go home. Within a few hours, he returned with another pellet in his forehead. I treated him again and he left.

"Later that day, some students showed me a video of the same boy, lying lifeless on the street … I didn't know his name, but I couldn't stop thinking about him … I still suffer from sleepless nights at the thought."

The next day – July 19 – the curfew was imposed and helicopters hovered overhead.

But the doctors continued treating the wounded – students, guardians, pedestrians, whoever came for help.

Even when supplies ran low, the building's residents reached out to pharmacy owners and managed more.

As word spread, more and more people came to this unlikeliest of clinics for help, when all other doors were slammed shut on their faces.

THREATS AND SURVEILLANCE

Around 8:30pm on July 19, police fired tear gas shells towards their building, situated on Satmasjid Road, forcing them to close the gates and bring students inside for safety.

Some men in civilian clothes questioned the building's guards, asking who the residents were and why they were treating protesters. They threatened them with dire consequences if anyone stepped outside.

"Initially, I didn't focus on the threats. But when they asked about us, I was a little nervous. We, however, carried on with our work … Our primary duty was to humanity. Whatever I did, I did for my country," Mitheen said.

Soon enough, residents began noticing drones flying above the building.

"Some colleagues from the media informed me that only three houses in the Dhanmondi area were under surveillance. Ours was one of them," Worthy said, adding that their phones were also being tracked by then.

Despite the anxiety and fear of arrest or interrogation, nothing could come in between these doctors and their sense of duty.

"I found peace knowing that I treated those students out of my duty to my profession. Helping others should be driven by humanity, not politics – blood carries no political identity.

"Despite everything, the gratitude from the students made it all worthwhile."

After the fall of the Sheikh Hasina-led government, the students who had found refuge in the garage returned on August 6. They thanked the two doctors for standing by them when no one else did.

For the new Bangladesh, Mitheen hoped that no one else would fall victim to oppression.

"We achieved victory for the brothers and sisters who gave their lives. The shedding of their blood must not go in vain."​

 

[Saif]

The psychological costs of an uprising

The systemic issues make even the admission of one’s struggles a minefield

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The psychological costs of an uprising

This idea that one must recover because another has done so is deeply troubling. It has the effect of inflicting even more suffering on those already grieving. VISUAL: SHAIKH SULTANA JAHAN BADHON

In July, a friend told me about a student protester whose anxieties had become so severe, they wanted to be captured by the police just for the ordeal to be over with. The anguish expressed in such a desire is just a snapshot of the horrors experienced by individuals who saw a state turn against them in one of the most harrowing times in the country's recent history.

Nawshin, a student of Dhaka University, remains traumatised, "I saw the police firing with my own eyes, and I saw the kids fighting back with bricks and sticks." She found herself having a panic attack multiple times, an occurrence that is not typical for her.

The fact that she lives alone, away from her family in Dinajpur, made her situation worse. "I felt like I was living in a prison," she said. Without much cash, bKash inactive, and limited messages owing to a small phone balance, her woes were exacerbated by the tightened claws of a state machinery grasping for power by any and all means. We know, but we forget to mention, the case of many such students who were away from family at that time. Have they been able to find, in a new city they might have begun to call home, even a sliver of the peace they previously found there? Is it possible now to return to dormitories that saw raids, arrests, and the violations of privacies—including by the unlawful checking of phones? Can peaceful sleep come, even months after, when the walls of one's room stopped being a protected place?

The disruption of one's intimate space violated in this manner has been one of the most defining moments of the entire period of uncertainty we lurched into; the violence outside was another. However, the period after August 5, has its own issues. Raian Abedin, a student of North South University who partook in the protests, said, "I just cannot come to terms with a reality that shifted this violently and quickly. I know so many who suffered deep, deep wounds from the protests. While I myself was fortunate enough to not face the worst, the smell of tear gas, and the fear of death still comes back to me like a memory. What we are doing now is forcing normalcy, because we have to keep living no matter what."

Presenting a "normal" face to society is a struggle many face even in peaceful times. In the aftermath of an emergency, this issue becomes intensely complicated. It is after all, an event of massive proportions that shot its roots through every household. Zareena (name changed for privacy), a mother of two sons, who participated in the uprising, shared, "Because of the surroundings I am in and the upper-class society we mingle in, the people I usually mix with were not too invested in the situation. I felt I could not fully express my feelings."

While parents such as Zareena have been supportive, many friends and family may unwittingly be insensitive to those suffering from the memories of July. Dr Mehtab Khanam, an honorary professor in the Department of Psychology at Dhaka University, and a practicing psychologist, discussed how harmful making comparisons can be, and stated, "A lot of hurtful and judgmental comments are often passed wherein a person who is struggling might be asked why they are unable to manage when someone else in the same situation has."

This idea that one must recover because another has done so is deeply troubling. It has the effect of inflicting even more suffering on those already grieving. It is an issue afflicting not just the young, but parents like Zareena who feels she was unable to do much in her neighbourhood. Seeing the children on the streets as akin to her own children, she stated, "I have survivor's guilt that I was alive when they were out on the streets risking their lives."

For many, the return to one's previous life has been made difficult by reminders of the violence that occurred in the places they regularly pass through. For Nawshin, the Dhaka University campus bore remnants of the violence, not just in her memory, but also in the graffiti memorialising the martyred. She said, "Each time I go to campus, I am reminded of the blood. Each time I enter, I feel like I am once again traumatising myself."

However, violence has not become just a memory after August 5. It has remained an active threat for many. Nawshin stated that she never needed to think about what she wears, but now, it is a fear she carries.

Raian stated, "The protests were not the end of the story. If anything, they gave rise to numerous new things to worry about." Recently, there have been accounts of mob lynchings and increased attacks on women, but also in the retaliatory acts of violence against family members of the Awami League and the increased threats posed against systemically vulnerable communities. Even protesters themselves are finding themselves in uncertain situations. Musharrat Hossain, senior lecturer at North South University, stated, "In the aftermath, we are seeing that many students at the frontlines of the uprising are now being sidelined. At all campuses, vested groups seem to be awaiting their chance to take their stakes from the movement. In many cases, those who had put their lives on the line are not getting their due recognition."

At present, even identifying the underlying issues poses challenges. For one, not enough time has passed for us to know if people have post-traumatic stress disorder. Moreover, the symptoms of distress and various stress disorders are numerous, ranging from disrupted sleep and changes in appetite to a loss of ability to function or control one's moods. Making the situation worse is the lack of understanding that the majority of the population has towards mental health issues. Dr Mehtab Khanam stated, "There remains a lot of stigma about mental health. A majority of the nation's citizens are unaware of matters regarding mental health." Locating the problem to one of the fundamental aspects of modern society, she states, "It is unfortunate that we have been unable to develop an education system that is able to make all aspects of a child flourish." She mentioned the lack of attention to vital life skills, whether communication, anger management or problem-solving, that remain untaught in our educational institutions.

In a similar vein, Musharrat Hossain said, "The reality is we have to help the students heal. Teachers have been altering their syllabi to accommodate student's needs after such a violent period. In truth, however, we have failed to truly help them heal. Trauma-informed teaching is something we are unable to do in our universities at this point."

The systemic issues, along with the more vicious cultural stereotypes surrounding mental health, make even the admission of one's struggles a minefield. Pair this with the mushrooming of individuals claiming to have solutions for those already in a vulnerable condition, and you have a recipe for the exploitation of people with mental health struggles. I asked Dr Mehtab Khanam how an individual can know for certain that the professional they are seeking help from is a legitimate entity, and she replied, "There is currently no way to know." The answer is distressing, but Khanam explains, "At present, while there is a licensing body for psychiatrists, no such body exists for psychologists. Further exacerbating the situation is the existence of very short courses that require only a small amount of training. For a psychotherapist and a psychologist, it is not only hours of training that are required, but application of knowledge and also personal sessions for the therapists themselves."

For people battling mental illnesses for a long time, the problems are far too intimately known. Many see the answer in individual efforts, but the fact might be that just as the uprising took thousands, this challenge too will take thousands to solve. In the case of Bangladesh, it would be millions. Musharrat Hossain lays the responsibility on institutions. She said, "There is no such thing as people's reform. It must happen at a policy level, and the current period is crucial for us to act in order to prevent the vulnerable from being further abused and marginalised."

What we do know however, is that in some ways, a cultural shift has occurred post-July, if not at a mass scale, then at least among many individuals who had previously not been as concerned about the state of affairs in the country. When asked if the uprising made her more protective of her children, Zareena said, "No, the courage has increased. If the need arises, I would expect my children to stand for what is right. Unless I am satisfied that the sacrifice of all those we lost was successful, I will remain concerned about the current situation of Bangladesh."

Aliza Rahman is a member of the editorial team at The Daily Star.​

 

[Saif]

Of our hopes and fears

AS THE euphoria surrounding Sheikh Hasina’s ouster to India slowly died down, we have slowly begun to excavate the wreckages of her authoritarian rule in our surroundings as well as our collective memories. If we look critically, the immediate past — the period immediately preceding her...

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Of our hopes and fears
Nayel Rahman 10 October, 2024, 00:48

New Age

AS THE euphoria surrounding Sheikh Hasina’s ouster to India slowly died down, we have slowly begun to excavate the wreckages of her authoritarian rule in our surroundings as well as our collective memories. If we look critically, the immediate past — the period immediately preceding her departure — appeared to be unique in the country’s history. From mid-July to mid-August, the country experienced something that cannot be explained by a simple term like political violence.

In those tempestuous times, we saw protesters being shot down by snipers sitting on top of tall buildings and sharpshooters from helicopters. We saw mass graves. We saw piles of corpses being set on fire. We saw people being hounded down in construction sites and underpasses and shot from point blank range. We saw people being shot and bodies being dragged out of their homes. We saw helmeted militiamen of the Chhatra League and Juba League, the student and youth wings of the Awami League, shooting indiscriminately at protesters and attacking them with machetes. We saw internet and media blackouts. In many ways, it was a state’s full-on assault against its own people.

The disturbing images that appeared in our social media feeds and, in rare cases, mainstream media were out of the ordinary even by Sheikh Hasina’s authoritarian standards. From the mutilated, disfigured bodies of fallen military officers in Pilkhana, crushed human remains under Rana Plaza, bloated and macerated bodies on the Shitalakhya to seemingly lifeless bodies lying down in pools of blood at Shapla Chattar, we already had our own initiation and education in processing the macabre imagery. Still, nothing prepared us for what we saw and experienced in the long July.

The bloody violence took us back to our own past and forced us to confront disturbing scenes that we never expected to see again. Although the violence of 2024 was reminiscent of our sufferings in 1947 and 1971 to some degree, unlike the events of the past, it was a unique experience too. The violence was exclusively perpetrated by our own people. Unlike 1947 and 1971, we can’t blame people of different religions or ethnicities and go on vilifying our religious and ethnic minorities for crimes that most of them didn’t even participate in. As the descendants of the Hindus and the Biharis will attest, they have become our prisoners of history ever since then and probably will have to carry the burden of guilt as long as they live.

At this point in our history, we cannot single out a particular community and blame them for what happened to us. We also cannot wish away the killers and the thugs, who are essentially part of our own community, neighbourhoods, workplaces, and public spaces. Now we have to establish peace and reconcile with them while prosecuting those who have been directly involved in killing and seriously injuring people.

For us, it is no longer an investigation of police brutality and application of excessive force but a twofold task of far more important nature. We have to investigate, prosecute, and punish the massive human rights abuses inflicted by Sheikh Hasina’s law enforcement agencies and her armed militiamen, and, equally importantly, we have to build a community and forge a nation from the remnants of her rule.

Besides, during the regime’s reign of terror, it devised its own system to suppress dissent and eliminate political opponents. The strategy involved judicial and extrajudicial killings and enforced disappearances, which had its own specialised infrastructure in the much documented Aynaghor. Merely punishing those who are responsible isn’t enough. We need to put appropriate checks and balances in place so that these crimes do not happen once again.

Our experience from the long July also differs significantly from the years past, as our victory was solely earned by our own people. The creation of Pakistan necessitated an alliance with other Muslims in the subcontinent, while in 1971, we sought help from neighbouring India. In 2024, no one from outside was looking out for interests as students, workers, and common people fought Sheikh Hasina’s men on the streets.

With no one to blame for our predicaments but our own and no one to share the credits of our success with, it’s time for a new nation to emerge from the ashes of its own ancien régime. Its citizens should take duties and responsibilities of nation-building upon themselves while ensuring rights and liberties.

In the dying days of fascism and the turbulent period that followed, we have lost hundreds of lives. Many of the wounded have lost their limbs and will never go back to their old lives. The mental scars will take years or decades to heal. Sheikh Hasina, her family members, and her cronies have hollowed out the economy and put the country in billions of dollars in debt. They have outsourced our foreign policy and sacrificed our national interest for their own political and financial gains. Their mismanagement of state affairs and efforts to capture it badly damaged and compromised our internal and external security. The bloated, corrupted, largely ineffective state machinery resembles more like a white elephant than public institutions whose efficiency and expertise can be used to drive reforms. Bangladesh of today is more fragile and susceptible to external shocks than ever before.

Away from politics, our sociocultural lives have been affected by the tension surrounding our identity. The corrosive culture wars that came along only intensified over the years and made us our own worst enemies. We are extremely fearful of the people who appear to have different ideologies and whom we think threaten our way of life. The demons that still haunt us are almost forcing people to take retributive actions and promote vigilantism.

However, among all the chaos and disorder, there is room for optimism. As the law enforcement officials deserted their stations and the army personnel struggled to deal with the ensuing bedlam around the country, Bangladeshis were asked to fend for themselves. We came through the ordeal with our heads held high.

Some of us in combat fatigue foiled suspected military coup attempts in the barracks. Students and the general public warded off a judicial coup attempt at the High Court. People banded and bonded together to form neighbourhood watches to protect minority communities and their places of worship and protect themselves from thugs and looters. Younger generations volunteered to control traffic.

There are hundreds of scenes from the period following Hasina’s flight that showed Bangladeshi people have rediscovered something that was lost as we collectively dealt with modernity, urbanisation, fractious politics, and the identity crisis. Nowadays, we talk more about building the state, the economy and society. In those darkest moments, it was community that pulled us through.

The personal connection that we lost over many decades was already starting to rebuild when Sheikh Hasina’s government tried to go from door-to-door to quell the uprising. In a few cases, people of apartment buildings or neighbourhoods came to the rescue of the protesters who were hiding or about to be detained. The period following Sheikh Hasina’s departure merely solidified people’s resolve, and they organised themselves to protect not only themselves but the people who live around them and help military personnel.

Most of us wondered what kept people going through that critical time when even a countercoup might have thrown us into a prolonged period of instability. It’s hard to pinpoint a specific reason, but regaining ownership of the country might have been one. Suddenly, people began to realise that the country doesn’t belong to a dictator, her family, the oligarchs, and their coalition partners. The moments of togetherness that we saw were not cursory shows of solidarity.

Just because our former rulers didn’t do their job and merely used their power and privilege to extract maximum benefit from people they were sworn to protect, we can’t afford to leave the county to them or future successors with similar motives. For the powerful, it was an opportunity to climb up the ladder and leave everything behind when the time comes. For the ordinary people, it’s still their home, and no matter where they end up in life, they will always belong here.

Along with their sense of ownership and belongingness, people are going through a period of heightened political awareness. From roadside tea stalls, university campuses, cafes to living rooms of people’s homes, politics have become a constant theme of conversations.

The country’s artists and musicians have already drawn inspiration from the long July. Rap and Hip Hop have become the younger generations’ genre of choice for protest. Street art and graffiti have become the main mode of artistic expression. Almost every noticeable landmark now has artwork, graffiti, or calligraphy commemorating the movement. Among old classics, DL Roy’s ‘Dhono Dhanyo Pushpe Bhora’ had such a resurgence that it has become the people’s anthem.

The country’s intellectuals have broken the shackles put on them by the Digital Security Act. The intellectual stupor has gone away. So far, intellectuals and academics like Farhad Mazhar, Ali Riaz, and Rifat Hasan have become vocal about rewriting the constitution. Zia Haider Rahman, the renowned novelist, has come up with ideas to increase public engagement in the constitutional process. From social media to op-ed pages, people are coming up with ideas to change the old ways of governance.

In almost every way, the post-fascist era has become a potentially epoch-making time for Bangladesh. It is rare to see a moment in history where almost all the political, social, cultural, and intellectual forces are converging on something new. The people have come through a struggle where they have broken out of the captivity by themselves. Their experience of the Hasina regime told them they needed to take a clear break from the past and build the country anew. Let us not waste this precious moment with our pessimism, timidity, lack of political imagination, and apprehension about changes.​

 

[Saif]

Transition from autocracy

BANGLADESH experienced its first transition from autocratic rule after the fall of the regime of president Sheikh Mujibur Rahman in August 1975. The second instance of transition from autocratic rule commenced with the fall of president Ershad in 1991. The third transition from autocracy to...

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Transition from autocracy
Faizul Latif Chowdhury 10 October, 2024, 00:40

New Age

BANGLADESH experienced its first transition from autocratic rule after the fall of the regime of president Sheikh Mujibur Rahman in August 1975. The second instance of transition from autocratic rule commenced with the fall of president Ershad in 1991. The third transition from autocracy to democracy has started with the fall of the Sheikh Hasina regime on August 5 this year.

The nature and duration of the three autocratic regimes mentioned above differ widely. Sheikh Mujibur Rahman ruled the country for around three and a half years till he was killed and his government toppled in 1975. Thereafter, the transition to democracy under an elected government took a long time. With a short interlude of only three months under president Khondoker Mushtaq Ahmed — following the killing of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman — the country entered the transitional phase under the charismatic leadership of General Ziaur Rahman, who steered the process under a softcore Martial Law regime. Although he had to tackle a series of military coups in the cantonments, he enjoyed mass popularity and faced little or no resistance from people in general. Ziaur Rahman amended the constitution of the country to restore the multi-party democratic system that was eliminated by Sheikh Mujibur Rahman in January 1975.

However, Ziaur Rahman decided to enter politics and, accordingly, floated a new political party under his leadership. The second general elections of the country were held in 1978, in which his party, namely, the Bangladesh Nationalist Party, emerged as a strong political party with a wide popular base. Although relegated to the opposition bench, the leaders of the Bangladesh Awami League were happy to regain a role in national politics.

President Ershad’s autocratic rule came to an end when he resigned in 1991, in the teeth of a powerful political movement, after ruling the country for nearly a decade. General Ershad was the chief of the army and, in 1983, brought down an elected government mandated to be in power for five years till 1983. Because of this military coup, the country could not experience a transition from democracy to democracy and relapsed to autocratic rule once again.

Transition from president Ershad’s autocratic rule to democracy was a case of pacted or negotiated transition. The handover of power was smooth, and the transitional phase was managed by an extra-constitutional interim governmental system, which was referred to as ‘caretaker government’. While essentially an application of the doctrine of necessity, the model was later accepted by all political stakeholders, and, accordingly, the parliament led by Begum Khaleda Zia modified the constitution of the country in 1996 to permanently provide for caretaker government prior to general elections for electing a new government.

The world has experienced a high rate of transition to democracy in different countries since the end of the Second World War. Unfortunately, reversal to autocracy was not infrequent. It is to be recognised that Bangladesh overcame the difficulty of building self-enforcing democracy by innovating a political arrangement as noted above. It is a matter of record that the system of ninety-day ‘caretaker government’ facilitated and managed an acceptable transition from democracy to democracy. The Bangladesh Nationalist Party came to power under the leadership of Begum Khaleda Zia in 1991, the Bangladesh Awami League came to power under the leadership of Sheikh Hasina in 1996 and Bangladesh Nationalist Party again came to power in 2001 under the leadership of Khaleda Zia through elections held under caretaker governments.

Success of a caretaker government and transition from democracy to democracy depends on the personalities involved. Also, as experienced in many countries around the world, the role of the military and the role of the foreign powers in the context of international and regional geopolitics need to be factored in for understanding the dynamics that determine the development and sustainability of democratic institutions.

An entirely free election alone is not the only sign of a successful transition to democracy. However, free elections constitute the necessary condition for securing the next democratic regime. The outcome of the 1991, 1996 and 2001 elections, held under the auspices of caretaker governments, proved to be acceptable for national and international communities.

On the contrary, it is frequently argued the caretaker government headed by chief adviser Fakhruddin Ahmed, which assumed office in January of 2007, did not act fairly as a consequence of which the outcome of the general elections, scheduled to be held in April 2006 and actually held towards the end of 2008, became questionable. As it has been alleged, the military, under the command of General Mainuddin Ahmed, executed the hidden agenda of reinstating the Bangladesh Awami League to power under the leadership of Sheikh Hasina while ousting the Bangladesh Nationalist Party under the leadership of Khaleda Zia from the political scenario. It is presumed that one day the tenure of the Fakhruddina-Mainuddin government will be studied as a prelude to dictatorship.

It would not be an injustice if the regime of Sheikh Hasina, enduring over fifteen years, is termed fascistized dictatorship. No wonder that many take pleasure by ranking Sheikh Hasina alongside Gerardo Machado, Chiang Kai-shek, Adolf Hitler, Benito Mussolini, Joseph Stalin, Paul Kagame, Kim Il-sung, Hugo Chavez and Jorge Rafael Videla. All of them created police states and ruled their respective countries pursuant to their will and goals.

The term ‘police state’ has evolved over a long period of time since 18th-century Prussia. Today, police states are typically characterised by a highly centralised form of authoritarian government, pervasive state surveillance, coercion and extortion, and covert impunity for repression, torture and corruption. The police force is militarised and employed for social control, repression of the opposition and suppression of dissent. The judiciary is subjugated and is left with no choice but to listen to the dictates conveyed via the attorney general. There is hardly any respect for civil liberties and human rights. The Human Rights Commission and the like are rendered redundant. The media degenerates to serve the purpose of the ruler. A regime of intimidation prevails in all spheres of social and political life, leading to self-censorship. The citizenry as well as the officials of the state apparatus is required to align their attitude and behaviour with the ideology of the ruling dictator. Any deviation is brutally muted. The principle adopted was: If you don’t like a dog, give it a bad name and hang.

Sheikh Hasina, once considered to be an icon of democracy, successfully transformed Bangladesh into a police state since the formation of her government in January of 2009. It will demand systematic research to identify the milestones of the transformation process, their chronological order and interconnectedness. When she fled the country on August 5, after ruling the country with an iron hand for nearly 16 years, Bangladesh has essentially been rendered into a country not much different from Francoist Spain.

Large scale killing of army officials in the BDR headquarters in Dhaka, obtaining a decree from the Supreme Court declaring caretaker government system ultra vires to the values entrenched in the constitution of the country, hurried abolition of the caretaker government system from the constitution, ruthless suppression of opposition politics in every possible way, enforced disappearances and extrajudicial killing, crackdown on Islamic forces in the name of fighting terrorism, strict punitive measures for dissent and criticism, implementation of megaprojects without following due process for generating large amount of wealth via kick-backs, legal impunity for side-tracking the procurement process, plundering of banks and smuggling of black money out of the country, promotion of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman as an idol, etc, are apparently elements of one thread.

The ouster of Sheikh Hasina from power in the morning of August 5 came through an undaunting revolt of the people, spearheaded by the young students of the country. The mighty regime of the Awami League crumbled in a trice. Internationally reputed figure Nobel Laureate Professor Muhammad Yunus formed an interim government without the slightest resistance. The military did not stand on the way, although, admittedly, it was they who had arranged a safe flight for Sheikh Hasina to flee to India. However, the scenario of 2024 widely differs from that of 1975, the year in which Sheikh Hasina’s father’s Sheikh Mujibur Rahman regime was toppled, on many counts.

One can observe that the sudden end of the Mujib regime in August 1975 left a weak legacy to tackle during the transitional phase. Foremost of all, the military came forward to initiate and facilitate the regime change. Bangladesh had a negligible role in the international and regional geopolitical scenario, and there was almost no raising of the eyebrow among the foreign powers, including India. There was no private media to agitate, directly or indirectly, against the change. There was no social media through which to allow ventilation of anger by the Mujib supporters. Admittedly, the economy was in poor condition, but its basic fabric had not been distorted or shattered. As to the popular support, the activists of the Awami League were mostly unarmed and had little financial capacity to stage a counterrevolution. Most importantly, the military had no interest in politics or rent-seeking.

On the contrary, the legacy of Sheikh Hasina is pretty strong and capable of staging a counterrevolution. Hasina supporters believe that if their mistress could return to Bangladesh, she could grab power once again. Hasina’s legacy comprises a divided society rife with the culture of hatred and cancellation; a supportive community across all levels and sectors — rich with arms, money and muscle power; a police force full of officials personally loyal to Hasina’s ideology; an army commanded by generals with personal allegiance to the fallen prime minister; a civil administration dominated by Hasina supporters who upheld and facilitated the myth of development; and a judiciary submissive to the dictates of Hasina. In addition, there are hundreds of businessmen who upheld the principles of the fascist regime; a broad-based media that facilitated the erosion of democratic values and establishment of fascism; and a wide body of intellectuals and cultural activists who believe in Mujib’s one-party democracy and promoted him as the ‘greatest Bengali in a thousand years.’

New Age/ Mehedi Haque

To be continued.....................​

 

[Saif]

It would not be an easy task to pinpoint a certain event or time that caused Bangladesh’s democracy to slide into dictatorship since 2009, but the leadership under Sheikh Hasina is a good starting point. She had certain radical goals and plans up her sleeve that included sticking to power by hook or by crook, plundering national wealth in the name of development, and the establishment of an environment of intimidation and subjugation of the judiciary as well as the military. She saw it through that all democratic constitutions crumbled under her will and shrewd strategies. She successfully created a large pool of Awamiphiles across all sectors of the nation.

It has been observed that the nature of a political regime depends on the personal characteristics of its leader. It has been said that Joseph Stalin used to poke his nose into everything and instil fear in his subordinates. Sheikh Hasina was a good copy of Stalin made in a domestic mould. She created an environment of intimidation and established a mafia regime by all means. She was ingenious in spotting that mega-projects based on suppliers’ credit and foreign loans could be sources of a big amount of kickback. Later on, she chose banks as a better source of funds to plunder and syphon out of the country. The economic capital of the nation that built up over a long period was plundered away to a great extent.

She had an obsession with the death of his father and other members of the family who were killed in the early hours of August 15, 1975. With little care for the armed struggle in 1971, she believed that it was her father who gifted the nation with an independent state. She never forgave the followers of his father, who went silent and didn’t take to the streets to protest the killing. She considered the killing of her father a betrayal of the Bengali nation and consistently harboured prickliness about it. This made her vengeful. It cannot be forgotten that she evicted her predecessor, former prime minister Begum Khaleda Zia, from her home in 2010. The latter was officially allotted the residence on humanitarian grounds following due process after former president Ziaur Rahman was assassinated in a military coup in 1981.

Sheikh Hasina had little love for the country. She just needed power to keep ruling the country and extract its economic wealth. She demonstrated a lack of respect for others. She picked up people with criminal orientation and promoted them with a view to establishing despotism. She was unabashed in her falsification of facts and use of manipulated statistics to cheat the people. She was a psychopath who believed that the country and its wealth belonged to her. Also, she believed that winning a free and fair election was not essential for a legitimate right to power; rather, an election should be staged as required by the constitution, and people should be made to accept it through propaganda. She did not hide her mind and said, ‘I want power; I need absolute power.’

The history of Bangladesh would certainly have been different if the Bangladesh Awami League, after winning the elections held in December 2008, chose any other leader else than Sheikh Hasina as the prime minister of the country.

SOCIAL scientists around the world have tried to pinpoint the characteristics and dimensions of change in and from authoritarian rule since the breakdown of long-enduring authoritarian regimes in Spain and Portugal in the 1970s. Venezuela has proved a difficult case for achieving a democratic system. The world witnessed with dismay how the so-called ‘Arab Spring’ that spurted out in 2011 eventually actualised only in Tunisia, while other countries ended up with military coup d’etat (Egypt) or bloody civil wars (Libya, Syria, and Yemen).

Conceptualising the transition experience is a difficult task. A lot of factors affect the process of transition from autocracy to democracy. There are a lot of challenges to overcome, foremost of which is to tackle the legacies of the autocratic regime. Although the prospect for enduring democracy is not a far cry, it is indeed difficult to achieve.

An entirely free election after a prolonged period of dictatorial rule is the acid test of the transition to democracy. However, the management during the interim period is critically important.

The interim government led by Mohhamad Yunus, formed in the style of caretaker government, has many challenges to face to pave a way towards self-reenforcing democracy. The agenda before his government is long. One of the firsts is to tackle the legacies of the Sheikh Hasina regime in a strategic way so that any attempt at a counterrevolution can be thwarted at once. A socio-political environment needs to be created that will rule out catapulting Sheikh Hasina back into her chair.

Every dimension of the state has suffered profound erosion during sixteen years of despotic rule. They need to be repaired before an election is held. Over sixteen years, the regime of Sheikh Hasina has actively facilitated diverse public authorities to coordinate on extra-constitutional activities, eventually transforming the politico-institutional setting into one of autocratic rule and kleptocracy. Democratic values destroyed by the Sheikh Hasina regime need to be restored and recreated. Separation of powers is to be restored and nurtured. Impunity for corruption and misdeeds needs to be addressed for establishing the rule of law. There is no doubt that reform of the constitution, or writing a new constitution ab initio, is needed to prevent the rise of autocracy in the future. Radical thoughts are needed for it.

The influence of the international environment and foreign actors on regime change critically matters given the geopolitical scenario that has evolved in the first quarter of the 21st century. Political scientists around the world largely believe that United States policy towards regime change can play a significant role.

Political leadership between authoritarianism and democracy matters in a significant way. Bangladesh is lucky to have Professor Yunus as the helmsman. He not only enjoys the trust of the nation; he also enjoys the support of world leaders and international institutions. It is reasonable to hope that he will be able to achieve Bangladesh a favourable status in regional geopolitics. Also, support of the United States may play a crucial role, as illustrated in the recent history of different countries.

It is encouraging to note that US deputy secretary of state Richard Verma, who previously served as the US ambassador to India, recently said that decisions on elections and interim government are for the Bangladeshi people to make. With emphasis, he remarked, ‘I think the most important thing is to try to support democratic, peaceful, lawful transition in Bangladesh rather than its future direction. Our role is to support them in their democratic journey.’

Faizul Latif Chowdhury, former civil servant, is professor (adjunct), Independent University Bangladesh.​

 

[Saif]

‘We need to clearly articulate what we mean by a discrimination-free Bangladesh’ | The Daily Star

Anu Muhammad discusses the people’s aspirations for equality, the ambiguity around ‘discrimination,’ and the challenges faced by the left in Bangladesh. From class and gender inequality to ethnic and religious discrimination, this conversation highlights the crucial issues we must address to...

thegreatwave.thedailystar.net

We need to clearly articulate what we mean by a discrimination-free Bangladesh

Anu Muhammad public intellectual and former professor of Economics at Jahangirnagar University, talks about the people’s aspirations for a just and equal society, the current ambiguity around the term ‘discrimination’, and the failure of the left in Bangladesh, in an interview with The Daily Star.

The rallying cry of the student movement that turned into a mass uprising was an end to discrimination. To what extent is that overarching vision being realised?

A deeply corrupt and oppressive regime, in power for a decade and a half, has been overthrown by the July uprising in Bangladesh. It’s important that we remember that a broad cross-section of Bangladeshi citizens of diverse religious, ethnic, gender and class backgrounds participated in the movement. At least a thousand killed in the lead up to and during the uprising, over a hundred of the deceased have been identified as labourers. Moreover, among the deceased students whose identities have been ascertained, a majority hail from working-class, peasant or lower-middle-class families. Of those injured, approximately 400 have suffered eye injuries, and many have lost limbs. The vast majority of these individuals are from impoverished backgrounds and lack the financial means to afford medical treatment. This dimension of the mass uprising has not received adequate attention thus far. The participation of the working class, the impoverished, and the marginalised sections of society in this movement, as well as their grievances and expectations, have not been adequately addressed in the discourse or discussions of policymakers, the educated leadership, or the interim government, almost two months after the uprising.

One common consensus that emerged from this popular uprising and the subsequent change in government is the desire for a Bangladesh free from discrimination. Despite ideological, political, generational, and social differences among the various organisations and individuals who participated in the uprising, there is a unanimous call for a society free from inequality and discrimination. Even the graffiti drawn on the walls conveyed such mature messages. The demand to end discrimination—so clearly expressed by the people on the streets—is yet to be articulated with equal clarity by those now in positions of power. The walls proclaim that all Bangladeshis, regardless of their religion—be it Muslim, Hindu, Christian, or Buddhist—should have equal rights. They assert that religion should not be used for political gain and raise questions about the rights of indigenous peoples. They demand gender equality, and an equitable Bangladesh. But what do the student leaders and those in the government mean by the use of the term ‘discrimination’? It is crucial to clearly articulate these demands and engage in a deep analysis of what we truly mean by a “discrimination-free Bangladesh”.

What forms of discrimination or inequalities are most prevalent in Bangladeshi society right now that should be addressed? If we are to go by the outcries on social media, it would appear that the most oppressed people in Bangladesh are male Muslims…

Yes, indeed, it would appear that way. But if we are deal with the issue in all seriousness, we have to understand that Bangladesh is grappling with various forms of discrimination, with class discrimination being a prominent one. Even neoliberal economists acknowledge the significant increase in inequality in Bangladesh. Over the past two decades, the real income or GDP share of the bottom 90 percent has declined. Income is now concentrated in the hands of the top 10 percent, with the top 1 percent capturing the lion’s share. The root cause of this inequality lies in the political economy.

We must discuss issues such as workers’ wages, the increasing commercialisation of education and healthcare, and the consequent alienation of a large segment of the population. Families are going bankrupt seeking medical treatment or educating their children. These processes—deprivation coexisting with growth—are causing a large number of people to become increasingly alienated. Those who are alienated, living in poverty and deprivation, were a significant part of the recent uprising. What will happen to them, and what programmes will be implemented to lift them out of their current desperation, is a crucial question.

The second form of discrimination is gender discrimination, not just between men and women but also involving other genders. This discrimination occurs both within and outside the home. We need to acknowledge the existence of various genders and respect them. Discrimination in areas such as property rights, employment, and mobility must be addressed. For instance, a woman’s dress or freedom of movement often faces various social restrictions and obstacles. Recently, we saw how a man was harassing a number of women for their clothing, or because they were sitting alone on the beach.

Next, we have the issue of ethnicity. Until now, the existence of ethnicities other than Bengali in Bangladesh has not been officially recognised in our constitution, society, or even among the political leaders. We see the recognition of indigenous peoples in graffiti on walls, but not in policymaking. Due to this discrimination, while Bangladesh as a whole may have escaped authoritarian rule, the Chittagong Hill Tracts (CHT) remain militarised. The people of the CHT are still not free. Just as extrajudicial killings have been a significant issue in other parts of Bangladesh, they have also occurred in the CHT, but this issue is not being discussed openly.

Religious discrimination is another major issue. Not only are people of different religions facing discrimination, but even within the same religion, there are minority groups which are being targeted. It’s not just the dominance of one religion, but a specific sect within a religion that is being imposed. The events of the past month and a half, such as attacks on shrines, mosques belonging to different sects, and temples, are evidence of this. Minorities both within and outside of Islam are living in constant insecurity. The government has not taken sufficient measures to address this issue and reassure these communities that they are also protected. I recently spoke with some Hindu teachers who expressed their deep concerns about the safety of their relatives and friends. They reported incidents of their houses being demolished, looting, and job losses. It’s impossible to imagine a non-discriminatory Bangladesh where certain groups continue to live in a constant state of anxiety and fear. Not only that. recent mob killing, indiscriminate filing of cases and arrests are also matters of concern. The government needs to take a strong stance on this issue.

Does our current constitution adequately address the issue of discrimination?

We have engaged in continuous struggles—both before and after the Liberation War—because our aspirations of a just, discrimination-free society could not be fully reailsed. We’ve fought for our language, for the right to education, and against military rule, ethnic oppression, and inequality. This struggle has had an impact on a part of our constitution that prohibits discrimination based on race, religion, or gender. Additionally, the constitution states that the state is responsible for providing education and healthcare to all citizens. There’s also a provision that constitutional principles supersede other laws. However, subsequent amendments to the constitution have introduced numerous discriminatory, oppressive, and communal provisions, contradicting these fundamental principles.

The 1972 constitution was a paradox. On one hand, it spoke of equality and justice. On the other, it marginalised minority communities and centralised power, paving the way for greater authoritarianism. The dream of an equitable Bangladesh was born before 1971. The Liberation War of 1971 was also fought with this very dream, and a part of our constitution reflects this aspiration. Therefore, we must maintain this continuity. We must recognise that this struggle is not new, but rather a continuation of past efforts. This continuity must be reflected in the constitution, and we must clearly articulate in our constitution what we mean by an equitable Bangladesh.

Our walls proclaim that all Bangladeshis, regardless of their religion—be it Muslim, Hindu, Christian, or Buddhist—should have equal rights. PHOTO: Star

The left played an instrumental role in the 1969 mass uprising. What has happened to left-wing politics in Bangladesh since?

The 1969 uprising was the peak of left-wing politics in Bangladesh. Without the millions of workers from Tongi, Adamjee, and other areas coming to Dhaka, the mass uprising would not have reached its climax. This mobilisation of workers was primarily led by the left. The same was true in Chittagong. The dominant force in student organisations at that time was the left.

After 1969, during the Liberation War of 1971, a clear division emerged in our national politics. One faction, particularly those involved in Islamic politics, sided with Pakistan and committed war crimes. On the other hand, the Awami League and other forces, particularly those aligned with nationalism, and the left fought for liberation. This nationalism was largely Bengali nationalism, which was not all-inclusive. Those in the left camp fought for liberation and talked about socialism. However, after independence, a section of the left merged with Bengali nationalism and essentially equated left politics with Awami League politics. This was a mistake. Left politics and nationalist politics are not the same. There were also other left-wing groups who did not side with the Awami League, but they faced severe repression from 1972 onwards. Their discourse also had flaws.

After the 1975 coup and the subsequent martial law, those who came to power included individuals who were pro-Islamic and anti-liberation war. This led to a narrative of liberation versus anti-liberation, which continued throughout the 1980s and after. Consequently, the significant issue of class struggle was overshadowed. This was a major failure on the part of the left. They could have regrouped in the 1980s but failed to do so. In the 1980s, the anti-Ershad movement led to political mobilisation, and an alliance formed under the leadership of Sheikh Hasina and Khaleda Zia. A section of the left aligned with Hasina, while another aligned with Khaleda. This was a suicidal act. The left failed to maintain a distinct identity and instead chose to follow either Hasina or Khaleda. Only a small, insignificant left-wing faction remained independent.

Another threat came from various neoliberal economic policies, such as structural adjustment programmes and World Bank policies. These policies led to the dismantling of major industrial bases in Bangladesh. I believe that the World Bank’s suggestion to privatise or shut down Adamjee and other jute mills lacked any sound economic logic. In my opinion, they had a political agenda too. They wanted to dismantle the organised working class. They aimed to eliminate industries where the working class could unite. Previously, places like Adamjee had living arrangements for workers. The left’s main base was in those jute, textile, and sugar mills. Those industries were dismantled, starting in the 1980s and concluding around 2002. This was another significant blow for the left.

The left leaders failed to adapt to the new shape of the working class, which was now dominated by the garment industry and informal sector. Secondly, their failure to differentiate themselves from the politics of nationalism or religion weakened the left base in Bangladesh. Furthermore, many left leaders joined the Awami League, while another set joined the BNP or the Jatiya Party, which was disastrous. If we look at the leadership of the BNP, Jatiya Party, and Awami League, we’ll find many former leftists. In fact, former leftists have been ruling the country for a long time. However, they have not advanced the cause of left-wing ideology. The growth of the left parties has stagnated.

Do you still see any hope for the left in Bangladesh?

When we hear the phrase “discrimination-free Bangladesh” or see it written on the walls, it’s essentially a left agenda. If we can articulate what it means to talk about equity and oppose inequality, then we must inevitably move towards left-wing politics. Without the left, the fight against inequality cannot progress. Right-wing politics, or any other form of politics, inherently promotes inequality. Whether it’s religion-based politics, nation-based politics, or nationalist politics, they all promote inequality. The dominant neoliberal economic model is also inherently inequitable. I believe that the aspirations of society are fundamentally left-leaning. And the discourse of the majority who are involved in movements is also left-leaning. However, this is not articulated or recognised in the politics of the leadership. Right-wing politics, on the other hand, cannot represent people’s aspirations. By partially addressing issues of inequality, they essentially deceive the people.

How would you evaluate the interim government’s role in addressing some of the concerns you have highlighted?

A significant portion of the killed and injured during this uprising came from working-class families, and we haven’t yet seen any substantial government attention regarding the full protection they need. When we look at the government’s response to labour movements, it becomes clear that their perspective on workers hasn’t changed from the previous government. They consistently adopt the same stance: whenever there’s a labour movement, the government sides with the employers, echoing the employers’ language and arguments. And they often resort to blaming imaginary external conspiracies.

Whenever there’s a possibility of change created by peoples’ movements or mass uprisings, various social groups try to get their dues. However, the demands of the deprived people must be addressed. While there may be external influences fuelling the workers’ movement, it’s undeniable that they harbour deep resentment. We must understand the reasons behind this resentment. It stems from issues like unpaid wages, various forms of abuse, mass layoffs, and the non-payment of wages to those who participated in the labour movement. These are just some of the many grievances that contribute to their anger.

There are various gender discrimination and gender issues in society, and the government is showing no signs of addressing them. There are also serious problems with public education and healthcare. There is a lack of attention to mega projects that are a burden on our economy and pose significant risks to our environment. While this government cannot solve everything, its perspective should be clear. For instance, projects like Rampal and Rooppur pose significant risks to Bangladesh if we don’t find a way out. I’m not saying this government can cancel them immediately, but they should at least prepare the ground to do so. From the government’s statements, it seems they plan to continue with all existing agreements. But if that’s the case, what will change? The previous government signed many harmful agreements that went against national, public, and environmental interests. If these agreements continue, then the politics will also remain the same. These are major concerns for us. We haven’t seen a significant enough difference in the government’s approach to these issues.​

 

[Saif]

A tale of courage and compassion

Dr Worthy and Dr Mitheen not only opened their doors to the wounded but also converted the garage of their building on Satmasjid Road into a makeshift clinic.

www.thedailystar.net

A tale of courage and compassion
We salute the two doctors for their efforts during the uprising

VISUAL: STAR

During the July-August uprising, the compassion, integrity, and dedication of two doctors—Dr Worthy Jukhrif and Dr Hritisha Aktar Mitheen—stood out in their commitment to humanity and their profession. On July 18, Dhanmondi-27 became one of the flashpoints when violent clashes erupted between pro-reform demonstrators and police, who were backed by activists from the then-ruling party. Many injured demonstrators were too afraid to seek medical help as the government cracked down on protesters, even stationing police in front of hospitals to intimidate anyone seeking treatment. Some hospitals were overwhelmed with patients, while others refused to provide care.

Amid this difficult situation, Dr Worthy and Dr Mitheen not only opened their doors to the wounded but also converted the garage of their building on Satmasjid Road into a makeshift clinic. With the support of other residents who contributed supplies, the two doctors treated over 100 injured individuals. Despite their own trauma and shock from the events unfolding around them, they set up two beds in the garage and provided critical care, including removing pellets, dressing deep wounds, and offering counselling to the injured, thus transforming their garage into a sanctuary for those with nowhere else to turn.

The doctors recently recounted some of the horrific injuries they treated, explaining that, as a result of their efforts, on July 19, police targeted their building with tear gas shells. Additionally, men in civilian clothes questioned the building's guards, inquiring about the residents and why they were treating protesters. They even issued threats of severe consequences if anyone stepped outside. Despite these and other forms of harassment and surveillance, Dr Worthy and Dr Mitheen stood their ground for the sake of humanity, embodying the highest ideals of the medical profession and demonstrating profound compassion for their fellow countrymen.

Dr Worthy and Dr Mitheen have demonstrated just how noble the medical profession can be—something that many other doctors and carers did during the uprising. We salute them for their selfless efforts. We also urge the interim government to properly recognise the services of all such people who contributed through their acts of kindness and commitment to the nation during the mass uprising, so their example may inspire future generations.​

 

[Saif]

Extraordinary situation calls for extraordinary measures

BANGLADESH, following the overthrow of an extremely repressive government of the Awami League, in the face of a great democratically oriented student-mass uprising and subsequent voluntary disappearances of all the League leaders from the country’s political scene, obviously with a view to...

www.newagebd.net

Extraordinary situation calls for extraordinary measures
Nurul Kabir 10 October, 2024, 00:10​

BANGLADESH, following the overthrow of an extremely repressive government of the Awami League, in the face of a great democratically oriented student-mass uprising and subsequent voluntary disappearances of all the League leaders from the country’s political scene, obviously with a view to escaping court proceedings for their political, economic and criminal offences, is now passing through a critically important transitional phase of history. The great July movement, which culminated in prime minister Sheikh Hasina’s resignation and fleeing to India on August 5, apparently looked like a ‘revolution’, which many a politician and intellectual of the country still call it adorably, but in essence it was not. By the simplest definition, a ‘revolution’ is a political Event that overthrows one class of people from power by another class, enabling the winning class to build its own state machinery on the debris of that of the defeated one. And, obviously, such a revolution takes place under the leadership of an organised revolutionary party with a philosophically thought-out set of political, economic and cultural agenda, to be implemented in the post-revolution society.

The victorious July movement of the masses — more than 80 per cent of some 1,500 martyrs of and some 22,000 critically injured in the movement came from under-privileged sections of society — has definitely overthrown the autocratic regime of Sheikh Hasina’s Awami League, but the autocratic state machine that successive governments of the country’s ruling class have built up in Bangladesh since its birth and Hasina’s has further brutalised it over a decade and half remains intact with all its repressive laws, rules, policies, resources and practices.

Moreover, despite enormous courage, profound commitment and great tactical skills of the student leaders, who transformed their initial anti-job quota agitation eventually into a mass movement for the ouster of the League government, they were not a homogenous force organised under a revolutionary party with a comprehensive revolutionary agenda.

They are, in fact, a patriotic group of courageous young boys and a few girls, coming from different political traditions and containing heterogeneous politico-philosophical thoughts. Not surprisingly, the young leadership of the successful mass uprising invited, visibly ignoring the exiting constitution of the state, Professor Muhammad Younus, a Nobel peace laureate of particularly western repute, who might have been in prison if Hasina had continued in power for a few more months, to lead an ‘interim government’ to carry out certain ‘reforms’ — political, constitutional and economic, et cetera, and hold free and pair national elections for transferring power to an elected authority. The political parties and the national army have complied with wishes of the students. This is an extraordinary time.

Meanwhile, the young group of student leaders is learnt to be trying to launch a political party of their own while it has not yet formulated any manifesto and agenda for the planned party. It is, indeed, impossible to determine the political characteristic of a political party in the making — revolutionary or reformist — without analysing its manifesto and agenda. Hence, at this point of history, this is irrelevant to talk about the ‘revolutionary imposition of a revolutionary agenda by a revolutionary party’.

Under such a circumstance, the question arises as to what kind of reforms the interim government of Professor Yunus intends to carry out and in how much time it should accomplish its interim agenda. The Yunus administration has, meanwhile, announced half a dozen commissions to prescribe — in 90 days of the constitution — constitutional, electoral, judicial, public administration, police and anti-corruption mechanism reforms. It has not issued any political and philosophical guideline/s for the commissions to make recommendations to base on. Thus, the citizens concerned are left with nothing but speculating about the possible nature of the recommendations to come, and that too, based on the personal politico-philosophical orientations of the individual members of the commissions.

Bangladesh essentially needs democratic reforms in almost every sector of its collective life while the most important one being the democratisation of the constitution of its state. In a democratic dispensation, the constitution is expected to be a document reflecting the ‘general will’ of the people — the ‘sovereign’. It is the constitution that guarantees the legitimate rights of the citizens, on the one hand, and provides legitimate power for actors of different branches of the state to exercise, on the other. The constructional provisions of a democratic state, a republic in other words, must recognise the importance of the state to remain perpetually accountable to the ‘sovereign’ — the people, that is. Understandably, a genuine representation of different sections of the people — irrespective of their class, ethnic, gender and religious identities — is essential in the entire constitution making/reforming process, right from the beginning. Here, in the present case, the ‘beginning’ begins from the constitution of the ‘constitution reforms commission’ while the commission has only marginal representation of women, but it does not have any ‘representation’ from the national and religious minority communities, constituting a significantly large section of the country’s population having their own difficulties and aspirations in the existing undemocratic dispensation. Besides, despite the existence of many peasant and labour organisations in the country, no representation from these huge classes of people is there on the constitution reforms commission.

If morning shows the day, evidently, the interim government of Professor Yunus, which has appointed the commission, intends to offer the post-July mass-uprising Bangladesh a patriarchal, Bengali Muslim majoritarian piece of constitution of the state, ignoring the fact that the great mass uprising against autocracy was participated in and supported by, although by different degrees, all sections of the people — Bengalis and non-Bengalis, male and female, Muslims and non-Muslims, the rich and the poor.

If this is the kind of reforms that the interim government intends to carry out in other sectors as well, Bangladesh has no chance to get out the old political, economic and legal order. It should realise that an extraordinary situation, arising out of magnificent student-mass uprising that has generated new hopes and aspiration in society, needs extraordinary measures to fulfil the new demand of history — a genuinely democratic transformation of the pseudo-democratic republic.

Nurul Kabir is editor of New Age​

 

[Saif]

Credit for August 5 uprising belongs to students, not any party: Jamaat Ameer

Jamaat-e-Islami Ameer Dr Shafiqur Rahman has stated that the credit for the August 5 mass uprising does not belong to any political party but rather to the students and the people. He remarked that the nation has been freed from fascism through the bloodshed and sacrifices of the youth and the gene

thefinancialexpress.com.bd

Credit for August 5 uprising belongs to students, not any party: Jamaat Ameer
Published :
Oct 11, 2024 20:51
Updated :
Oct 11, 2024 20:51

Jamaat-e-Islami Ameer Dr Shafiqur Rahman has stated that the credit for the August 5 mass uprising does not belong to any political party but rather to the students and the people. He remarked that the nation has been freed from fascism through the bloodshed and sacrifices of the youth and the general public.

"We seek to earn the genuine love of the people through our work. We do not want divisions between the minority and the majority. We envision a society where temples, like mosques, do not require security. If anyone attempts to disrupt our harmony, we must unite to resist them," he said.

Dr Shafiqur Rahman made these remarks as the chief guest at a workers' conference organised by Sylhet Metropolitan Jamaat, held on Friday at 3:30 pm at the Kushiyara International Convention Hall in South Surma, Sylhet, UNB reports.

The event was presided over by Muhammad Fakhrul Islam, a member of Jamaat's Central Executive Committee and Ameer of Sylhet Metropolitan Jamaat, and conducted by Secretary Muhammad Shahjahan Ali. Several thousand workers from the city attended the conference.

In his address, Dr Shafiqur Rahman added that during the regime of the 'fallen fascist', Jamaat-e-Islami suffered the most oppression. "Our top leaders were executed on charges of crimes against humanity, and they were martyred. Today, history has marked them as the real perpetrators of crimes against humanity," he concluded.​

 

[Saif]

How we go about the Bangla Spring now will define its future | The Daily Star

Between “July 34-36”, Bangladesh saw the explosion of a united democratic desire among people of all classes and professions. The demand for democracy was the revolutionary desire then. Following on from that, establishing meaningful democracy is going to be the true revolutionary programme now...

thegreatwave.thedailystar.net

How we go about the Bangla Spring now will define its future
Altaf Parvez

Before the Bangla Spring, there was a perception around the world that in the era of “surveillance states”, transformative politics cannot emerge victorious. This, after all, was the era of spies, of reactionists, of populism—an era of Pegasus’s dominance. But if George Orwell was alive, he would have looked on in awe at how the people of Bangladesh have flipped “1984” in 2024. This is why this mass uprising has communicated new hope among the oppressed peoples of the world. They are now thinking, “Victory is possible.” As a result, there is a global necessity to protect this uprising in Bangladesh. At the same time, conservative attempts to discredit and derail it are also nothing unnatural.

Lethargy in civil administration

Already, the Bangla Spring has faced some troubles within the country. There is some scepticism in society about the strength of the government that has been formed following the uprising. The government is facing a multidimensional crisis as it struggles to project an image of power. Perhaps as a byproduct of this, the administration has not been as active as expected. The activity in police stations has not resumed in full swing, and the police are yet to conduct patrols like they used to. Incidences of stealing and hijacking are on the rise.

The fire incidents in Gazi Tyre and Pran-RFL factories spread terror among industrialists. In Gazi Tyre, looting took place for an extended period of time, after which it was set on fire, yet no effective preventive steps were seen. The fact that industrialists, afflicted by fire and terror, are having to go around asking for security in different places is definitely a matter of embarrassment for the interim government.

At the same time, the pre-announced destruction of shrines in various places is spreading fear in rural society. No one in the administration seems to be considering it their responsibility to stop these attacks. Although warnings of legal actions against those involved were issued by the chief adviser’s office, their effects were negligible.

In fact, even during the terrible floods in Greater Noakhali, the civil administration was unable to assume the role of leading the coordination efforts. Instead, people had to place their trust in the army and students. Even though hundreds of trucks filled with relief goods left Dhaka, a tremendous weakness was observed in coordination among involved groups, especially with regard to prioritising marginal areas that needed the relief on an emergency basis.

Many volunteers were seen distributing relief in places close to highways and big roads, taking some pictures, and coming back. It’s as if there was nothing to be done about getting rid of the floodwaters other than distributing relief and blaming India! The people of Greater Noakhali and surrounding areas were in an unthinkable state of suffering because of waterlogging.

People don’t want to lose trust

Similar to Noakhali, the spirit of the mass uprising was almost absent in the civil administration’s response to flood in other affected districts as well. In all sorts of offices including educational institutions, there is only the circus of removing the officials who have been there until now and replacing them with new ones. The political-philosophical direction behind why the “old” ones must be removed and why it’s necessary to replace them with “new” ones has not been communicated to the field level.

As a result, these institutions have fallen into the cycle of signing attendances and various groups vying for control. Trying to avail everyday “services”, people can’t find any sign of the “Second Liberation War”.

At the end of the “war”, people are finding it hard to understand how they could be participating in the reconstruction of the country. In other words, there is no clear political and administrative “vision” that has been delivered to the districts and upazilas even after an incident as big as a mass uprising. The stimulus and promises seem to be stuck in TV screens. Unbeknownst to everyone, the seeds of hopelessness are being sowed even though the memory of the sacrifices of so many still burns freshest. But ordinary people are still not ready to lose hope. At least with Muhammad Yunus, they have a lot of trust.

Students belong on the ground, not in bureaucracy

In this tug of war between hope and despair, the students and others involved in the mass uprising could have taken the responsibility of building synergy between society and central administration. But the formation of students’ and people’s mass uprising committees in every district has not happened. They have not been assigned any specific activity relating to building the country. If the will is there, even now they can be used to accomplish a variety of nation-building activities.

On the ground, I have heard many say that the students could have solved many long-festering problems, such as illegal encroachment of rivers, without delay. By controlling traffic across the country on the first few days after August 5, students proved that they are ready to do any practical and technical task. They proved their worth again during the flood rescue and relief operations. At that time, “old society” did help them with open hands.

At the Bangladesh Agricultural University in Mymensingh, students were seen taking initiatives to produce saplings for post-flood agricultural rehabilitation. Many may remember that a similar spirit took hold in the tumultuous days of 1972-73. But the new government is failing to give this spontaneous youth force suitable tasks to keep alight the kindling of this fire. Instead of fashioning a “combined national role” for students, we have seen a handful of student leaders become advisers to the government. Perhaps a few more of them will join bureaucratic activities.

The highest achievement from all of this could be a “synergy” between the students and the people, and the old bureaucracy. But the demand of the mass uprising was not coordination with the colonial administration, or the debuts of students and new people within the bureaucracy. The demand was its complete reform. A full-body change. The consequence of the present organisational strategy is twofold. First, it’s leading to a bureaucratisation of talented student organisers as they waste their valuable time in administrative complications over appointments, transfers, suspensions, and so on. Second, watching the “coordinators” of the movement work like this could lead to pessimism particularly among the Generation Z.

Both scenarios would be extreme forms of self-sabotage. It is as though the “Spring” is being forcefully transformed into a “Winter”.

The uprising that started under the leadership of the Anti-discrimination Student Movement platform remains incomplete without the expected transformation of the state. That is why the entire leadership group of the student movement should have been on the ground for a much longer period. They should have highlighted the demands of reform from the field level. They should have compiled these demands and continuously presented them in front of the government. Only in this way could the uprising live on as a continuous process. The civil administration would not have been able to sit idle in sabotage like it is doing now.

But instead, some dangerous signs of superiority and chauvinism can be seen now. Some specific young people are being given the proprietary rights for the “mass” movement. Some are being affectionately given the title of “masterminds”. But if we removed the bubbles of individualism, we would see that the “mastermind” of the Bangla Spring is an all-encompassing desire for democracy. The students and the people turned the quota reform movement into a one-point movement a day before the “coordinators” uttered it. We must not forget that.​

To be continued....................

 

[Saif]

The movement should be made more inclusive

Considering that the July-August movement did not happen under the leadership of one person or party or coalition, it is illogical for the student body of one university to claim sole authority over the movement. In fact, this movement does not belong to a coalition of many universities either.

The descriptions of those killed and wounded in the movement make it clear that it was a movement of people of all classes and professions. In fact, it is historically inaccurate to characterise this movement as having started with the quota reform question and ended with the fleeing to India of Sheikh Hasina.

The essence of the 14-15-year-long struggle of people of many classes and professions has lent itself to the Bangla Spring. Thus, it is not just a child born to the middle class during the month of July. Without the realisation of the desires of so many people through this long period of time, this movement will not stop. In that sense, only a fair election will not fulfil the demands of the labourers killed or wounded in this movement.

There are no universities in the spot—Dhaka's Jatrabari—where most people were killed during the movement. It is mainly an area of labourers. The bloodiest resistance during the mass uprising occurred here. These people did not sacrifice their lives on the issue of quota reform. Various longstanding crises in their day-to-day lives led them to take to the streets. They were unable to forget the feeling of insult borne out of an omnivorous culture of extortion and the denial of the right to vote in a number of elections.

So, the fact that people of these classes and professions are appearing in front of the government with their demands is not unnatural. It is all a sign of a society reborn that everyone, from labourers of pharmaceutical companies to rickshaw pullers, is engaging in processions and meetings. The incidents of beating up members of Ansar or doctors are very reactionary in nature. The central leadership of the Anti-discrimination Student Movement needs to rethink these issues.

To raise the inclusive profile of the movement, the demands of different classes and professions must be considered with importance. The organisers of the Anti-discrimination Student Movement can go to people from all walks of life and explain to them why it’s important to give room for political reforms. The powers of the movement need to be synergised with various marginal groups, instead of synergising it with the bureaucracy. Chasing away the different professional groups who are raising demands now will have a boomerang effect in the long run. Even now, the fact that the public is accepting this government as inclusive enough—despite the fact that there is no representation of workers and farmers in the adviser’s council—is because of their love for the students, and trust in some of the advisers. But nothing is permanent.

Meanwhile, the lack of participation by female students in the decision-making process of the Anti-discrimination Student Movement is becoming notable, whereas a big base of power for the July-August movement was the long processions that female students would call during days and nights. Not only on the university premises, but in districts and upazilas too, young women were in the vanguard of the movement with tremendous emotion and excitement. The traditional ideas about Bangladeshi women long held by our society have, by and large, been erased this time. Only an anti-discriminatory, democratic society can adopt the progressive elements of the recent movement. But in the field, there are some different tendencies too. One of them is to transform the mass uprising into a so-called “cultural war”. Already, Islamic parties are sitting together with a “revolutionary” goal, according to the media. Organisers of many “banned” organisations are having cases against them withdrawn, as per media reports. Many in the “intelligentsia” are raising public support to transform the current government into a “revolutionary government”. The “united power” of July 36 (August 5) is getting split into many subgroups like this. Many are trying to stuff their ideological desires into the spirit of the uprising.

But on the ground during July-August, the pictures were different. Everyone’s demand was for democracy. The anger against a massacre made this demand explosive. People stood up in front of deadly guns not because of some “revolutionary ideology”. It wasn’t the call of the intelligentsia that made them do it, it was the desire for a democratic society. It was against the limitless authoritarianism of one person. It was against unthinkable police dominance within society.

Between July 34-36 (August 3-5), Bangladesh saw the explosion of a united democratic desire among people of all classes and professions. The demand for democracy was the revolutionary desire then. Following on from that, establishing meaningful democracy is going to be the true revolutionary programme now. The intelligentsia making more “revolutionary” demands can be seen as undue pressure on the interim government.

But to fulfil the fundamental expectation of the Bangla Spring, some crucial reforms of the state’s colonial structure is a must. Among them are reforms for the local government system and many institutions like the Election Commission. To move forward with these reform programmes, it might be necessary to rewrite the constitution too. For that, experts have said that the proposed election could be organised in the form of the people’s council election of 1970. Meanwhile, the interim government needs to undertake some quick reforms, and for that, they need the political parties to participate and consent to them. Without this much-needed participation, it will be difficult to realise the goal of transformation and to make it durable. In this scenario, the centrist BNP needs to play a special role and stand with the government.

On the ground, BNP activists need to suppress their tendency to take control and occupy, and the prime responsibility of the leadership of the party has to be to help the government in their reform agenda.

BNP has a big responsibility

At this moment, BNP is definitely a major force among the political parties. They themselves have already proposed some reforms. As a result, there is little room for BNP as a power in the movement to disagree with the non-partisan students and people and the interim government. However, BNP’s reform proposals are very mild in their characteristics. A positive aspect is that Ganatantra Mancha, a major proponent of reform politics in Bangladesh, stands as an ally of BNP. If these two parties cooperate with the government that is enthusiastic about enacting reforms, there is no need to delay the elections.

If the election is left hanging for an indefinite period of time, then the development work on the ground is bound to slow down. Besides, without an elected government, there will be scant foreign investment.

From the upazilas to the national parliament, there are no public representatives at any level. On the one hand, the administration that has been a victim of partisanship is in extreme turmoil; on the other hand, the same structure has to deal with the pressure of implementing the annual development plan. The result is easy to guess. Thus, reform and elections must both be undertaken. In between all of this, those responsible for the corruption and crimes of past years must be brought to justice.

Despite credible news of the loot of thousands of crores of taka by mafias masquerading as industrialists and politicians, if they are not brought to justice and punished then the powers of the movement will have no option but to enact people’s courts in the country. The culture of corruption-disappearance-murder has put Bangladesh into an existential risk. To stop corruption on a structural level, the anti-corruption commission must be reformed according to the current political desire.

To move the reform agenda forward, news media must be rebuilt as mass media

The media world now has an enormous responsibility to understand the local nature of corruption. Revoking the Cyber Security Act and rescuing media organisations from the hands of businessmen-appointed mercenaries are the initial demands in this case. Broadcast mediums can be brought under a trust where institutions are managed in a journalism-friendly way.

Over the past years, the broadcast media has been used like tissue paper for the powerful, while hardworking journalists could not write or say much in fear of the Digital/Cyber Security Act. Cases and harassment were every-day occurrences.

The editor of the premier English newspaper of the country once told this writer about the 80 cases filed against him. How can the media contribute to building the country from this situation? But instead of any structural solutions, opportunist media “houses” of the past have suspended and appointed one or two people to resort to hide-and-seek games.

Attention also must be given towards stopping anti-Bangladesh campaigns in the outside world. An effective way of stopping this is to conduct credible investigations over the violent incidents that occurred in recent weeks and to use fact-checkers en masse. A second way is to engage the leadership of different religions and ethnicities in extensive diplomatic activities. In this, the government and the student movement must show the courage to neutralise any right-wing sabotage at the root.

Going forward, the pluralistic character of the mass uprising must be sustained throughout Bangladesh’s future.

Altaf Parvez is a researcher and writer​

 

[Saif]

Protecting the gains of the ‘second liberation’

At present, there are four areas of profound challenges that require a more proactive approach.

www.thedailystar.net

Protecting the gains of the ‘second liberation’
Bangladesh - Gains of the second liberation

VISUAL: SALMAN SAKIB SHAHRYAR

In my previous column, I mentioned that the "second liberation" of August 5 restored our citizenship, overthrew a violent authoritarian rule, and halted economic disaster. But clearly, the journey has only begun. The all-important task now is to sustain these gains.

The government has announced six commissions for critical reforms in that spirit. These commissions—looking into electoral, constitutional, anti-corruption, judiciary, administrative, and police reforms—are headed by some of the best people with long dedicated work in these areas. These are all areas where reforms chosen wisely and implemented effectively will put Bangladesh on a just, equitable development path.

In parallel, a high-powered white paper committee has been tasked to examine the experience of the previous government's rule to understand what went wrong with its economic management and identify the lessons for the future. While oligarchs and political cronies became wealthy, the economy plunged into a macroeconomic crisis, lost its competitive edge, reduced job growth, and became excessively concentrated regionally and in the hands of a few powerful people.

The economist in me hopes that the committee will highlight the critical importance of providing far more autonomy, authority and resources for critical financial management, evaluation, data collection and research institutions, such as the CAG, IMED, BBS and BIDS, so that the integrity of data and research is uncompromised, and that they are made available timely.

Even more profoundly, I hope they will point out that providing high-quality public services, support for small and medium businesses, and generally a good investment climate and good governance in our towns and villages will be impossible under an excessively centralised political economy. In sum, achieving the SDGs will require decentralising and devolving political, administrative and economic powers to urban and rural local governments. Only that can truly unleash our people's creative spirits and entrepreneurial energies.

The interim government has done well by tying the work of these groups to a tight frame of delivering their reports within three months. It is an ambitious target, and there will be a need to consult. However, a short period will require these groups to focus on the core issues and write crisply. Then we can have national conversations around their reports.

There are, however, four areas of profound challenges that require a more proactive approach. Unless these are met, the gains of the second liberation are in danger of being lost in economic instability and social unrest.

That is not speculative thinking. Economic and job growth and poverty reduction will slow without a quick return to stability. Bangladesh took nearly 20 years after independence to regain the per capita incomes of 1970, mainly due to political instability. Economic growth took off only by restoring democratic constitutional rule and legitimate elected governments that could back and sustain Saifur Rahman's vigorous fiscal and trade reforms.

So, what is to be done now?

First, sustaining the gains of August 5 requires not letting the economy falter. Yes, we have inherited a "mess," an endangered economy. Proper steps are being taken in fiscal, financial, education and other matters. But the voice of the private sector, which employs most of our workers, earns our foreign exchange and produces most of our output, must be in the cabinet. Let a labour leader be also included to get the voice of the workers. But the economy's day-to-day concerns must be heard from those directly involved. Yes, this enlarges the size of the cabinet. But to protect the gains of the second liberation and the success of the interim government, the economy—jobs and welfare of the people—deserves the highest consideration.

Second, we need a more forceful approach to restoring law and order. Yes, Bangladesh is undoubtedly in a unique post-uprising aftermath where the police, the primary weapon of suppression under the past regime, lack confidence and morale and are mostly unseen. Yes, it is also true that the law and order situation could be far worse, given the circumstances. Yet, these are inadequate arguments that undermine the interim government. If entrepreneurs and workers perceive a lack of understanding and lose confidence and security, economic activity will decline as factories close down, exports fall and jobs are lost. Social unrest will follow.

For starters, we need undivided attention. The current arrangement under which one adviser has both home and agriculture portfolios is extraordinary and needs change. The coordination between the justice and home ministries needs improvement. The filing of dubious cases indiscriminately to imprison members and fellow travellers of the past regime diminishes this government's credibility. We are not talking about forgiving leaders of the past autocratic government and party. They must bear responsibility for their decisions and actions that caused widespread mayhem. However, murder cases have been filed against ordinary people where the accused are known to have been far away from the crime scenes.

Let me give a specific example. The former planning minister, Prof MA Mannan, is an upright man. He tried to speak the truth in office, sometimes subtly, to point out wrongs and mistakes. Because of his truth-telling, he was removed from the cabinet in January. He is, in fact, someone who needs to be consulted about his experience, but he was arrested last month on an absurd charge of murder (he was granted bail on October 9). Even the students and people of his area protested on his behalf.

Then there was the question of assaults on indicted prisoners on the way to the courtroom. It did not require rocket science to stop such misdeeds, and it has been done. But there have been several incidents of lynching across the country, which erode confidence.

The government has taken the sensible step to endow army officers with magistracy powers, but it is unlikely that it would be enough given that they lack the necessary training and experience. A corps of police and RAB officers with integrity and experience can be formed as a special task force working with the now magistracy-empowered army to tackle crime and disorder swiftly. They can also subdue violence with dialogue and firmness, but with minimum force. The UN has been requested to provide the necessary training to the police force. Other bilateral partners can also be requested. But we need urgency.

Third, a more realistic approach is required for much-needed constitutional reforms. There is broad agreement about the critical parameters of the new political order we seek. These include providing much stronger checks and balances to power and enshrining civil and human rights with the full force of the constitution. Other ideas floating around are proportional representation, bicameral houses, with proportional representation in at least one of them; term limits for heads of government; freeing parliamentarians from the yoke of Article 70 in the case of non-budget and no-confidence motions; strong parliamentary committees and oversight especially in the area of financial management; and a political parties act that set up transparent and democratic codes of conduct.

It is worth highlighting that the need to move ahead with decentralisation and devolution in the country is missing here. Bangladesh is one of the most centralised countries in the world, where local governments control less than 10 percent of public expenditures compared to more than 20 percent share of local government in other lower-middle-income countries. Our cities and towns are in a mess because our mayors lack budget and authority. And yes, they also lacked accountability to the people under the last regime.

Fourth, that brings us to the crucial matter of process here. Should we rewrite a new constitution or make amendments to the old one? Writing a new constitution will, rightly, invite considerable controversy over issues that may be peripheral to the urgent, forward-looking tasks at hand. There will be the question of validity. A few pointed amendments that can implement reforms and then be put to a referendum may be a more manageable path.

Let us be blunt here: a new constitution that risks removing the separation between the state and religion and between the state and ethnicity could potentially create second-class citizens in Bangladesh. That will be tragically contrary to the spirit of the Liberation War, where hundreds of thousands of martyrs gave their lives for freedom and equality. The spirit of an inclusive, equal society is also at the heart of the anti-discrimination movement of the students and people who brought in the second liberation. A new constitution that does not recognise these truths will lead the country to backwardness and regress.

We cannot afford to lose our rich syncretic history and culture that made this land generously welcome migrants and visitors. If our people are to prosper, we need the embrace of the world: we need massive amounts of foreign investment for jobs, global market access, and the technology it will provide. We need other countries to embrace our workers by providing them with jobs abroad. We need a constitution and a country that unites its people in a liberal, open and equal society that the world will embrace.

Dr Ahmad Ahsan is director at the Policy Research Institute of Bangladesh (PRI), a former World Bank economist, and a faculty member at Dhaka University.​