Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Forced labor and Syedpur Airport construction
Remembering 1971
We had to change houses quite often. Sometime around May, my uncle Jamil Chowdhury a pro- Bengali civil servant, took off for Calcutta. So did several cousins and my sister- all cultural activists who had been active in the anti-Ayub and anti-Yahya movements. Singing songs of resistance: Janatar sangram cholbei, Joi Bangla Banglar joi, Phul khelbar din noi odyo, Banglar Hindu, Banglar Bouddho, Banglar Christan, Banglar Musulman, and so on. I was left behind with my parents, marooned, it seemed, on a desert island while life was being fought and lived elsewhere. Not to be out-done however, I was on the look out for an opportunity which came my way soon when I overheard another group of activists, mostly from the university based cultural organisation Sangskriti Sangsad, planning a ‘trip’ to Calcutta at a clandestine meeting at my cousin’s house . I used all the energy and wiles available to a teenager to convince my parents to let me accompany them across the border to India, to participate in or witness the great struggle in whatever manner I was capable of. Perhaps my parents were not too reluctant to let me go (with a family we knew very well), considering one of their daughters was already a ‘marked’ cultural activist, although safely across the border now.Our journey to India was an adventure. We had to get passes from some member of a shanti committee in Dhaka, don burquas for a ‘trip to a holy shrine’, drive through Daudkandi to Comilla, take a boat there, then walk the rest of the way to Agartala. Once in Agartala, we joined the family of an Awami League MP, who were fleeing from Dhaka. Though we slept huddled on the bare floor, and used an adjoining copse as a toilet, the air we breathed in felt pure and free. My heart went out to those we had left behind in ‘occupied’ Dhaka- even though all we had were a few clothes, a small amount of money and our immense sense of determination, pride and adventure.We took a plane to Calcutta, destination of the pro-Bengali politicians, cultural activists and intellectuals who had fled the wrath of the Pakistani regime. Calcutta – which welcomed us with open arms and served as a haven for the influx from Bangladesh with generosity and patience- I wonder if I ever took a moment off to thank the city in a silent salute? A city where so many of our relatives and friends had taken refuge.I put up at various places: at a maternal uncle’s house (Professor of Presidency College, A W Mahmood ) where my paternal uncle and sister were already sheltered; a family friends’ rooms in Sudder Street – a place rented by the late Mr Aminur Rahman, chief pilot to the government of East Pakistan who had defected and fled; at Khelaghar in Kalyani, the children’s home set up by Ms Maitreyi Devi. Finally, I found a niche in Calcutta and my little role in the War of Liberation by joining a group of other young men and women in a small two-roomed office at Netaji Bhaban, in what would become the Bangladesh Information Bank- a centre engaged in archiving each day all newspaper and journal entries on the War of Liberation. About twelve of us student-emigres, worked from 8.00-5.00 under the guidance of Mr. Jamil Chowdhury at a salary (paid by the Government- in -exile of Bangladesh) of Rs. 150 a month.There were rumours of some Bangladeshis in the upper echeleons, living it up ( and rumours were then as always, a dime a dozen) at some place called The Blue Fox. The likes of us were quite content with our 1 Rupee luchi/ghughni breakfast from the vendor each morning and the ocasional evening at Victoria Memorial Ground munching peanuts and savouring an ice cream. Truly we felt fortunate and rich, even though our meagre savings were dwindling by the day. Perhaps it was the magical, ridiculous, enviable hopefulness of youth- we were not down and under for long. Some of us were lucky in that they had their families with them; but many of us never missed the finer amenities we had been used to as members of a middle class in Dhaka for we knew there were millions less fortunate than we in the refugee camps not too far. ‘Luchi-ghugni’ from the street vendor sufficed though a few among us did end up with jaundice. We did fall terribly sick at times but I am amazed now at our resilience. And always our ears would prick up at news from the war front. We tuned in to Swadhin Bangla Betar Kendra on rickety radios, pounced on anyone who came from the battle zones and tried to piece together a comprehensive picture of how the fate of Bangladesh would be decided by the guerillas, muktijoddhas; and the Russo-Indian axis.And so the days were on. The December 6, the day the government of India granted Bangladesh recognition, was greeted with jubilation at our little office. It seemed things were ‘moving’. The director knew Suchitra Mitra well and she came over and sang for us and joined our simple celebration in the yard of the Netaji Bhaban. We pooled some money, bought jilabis, distributed them, and gathered in the back yard. But sadly I cannot recall the songs, the legendary singer sang for us!We heard the news of the surrender on December 16 at my uncle’s place as it was a Sunday. We had gathered for our weekly adda. My uncle Jamil Chowdhury also knew Argyha Sen and we picked him up right away, hired a taxi and rode through the streets of Calcutta all night unable and unwilling to sleep.Our waiting had ended. Then it hit us: how lonely we had been, how afraid, how homesick and uncertain of what the future held. Like so much flotsam adrift in an uncharted sea. Soon we headed back to the land where a green field waited for us with a red sun and a golden map etched on it.Forty two years later when I stood at Projonmo Chottor this February holding a candle on the night of the vigil, my eyes must have misted over a bit in remembrance of those days spent in rooms without electricity, lit by a candle on account of the war time blackout. But the unforgettable moment was provided by the night a friend led me by the hand to show me, the simple, inner most circle on the street where the ‘core group’ of Bloggers and Online Activists, had taken their stand. I could not make out anything in the dark save myriad human forms; but as my gaze strayed upwards, it was transfixed by a huge flag of red and green, swaying in the night sky, creating a canopy over the group that had launched the movement. It was swaying in the breeze gently. The lights from surrounding buildings and the stars, filtered through it, making it gauze-like, translucent. It was only a flag, a rectangular piece of red and green cloth. But for one surreal moment it seemed that ‘Basundhara’ – the spirit of mother Earth had risen from the fields and forests to shower her blessings on her sleepless children.
Let ‘Joi Bangla’ sound once more
These are thoughts that well up from somewhere deep in my soul. They rise, they gather in the core of the heart in me, to remind me that there was once a time when pride and tradition came together to let me know that I was a Bengali. In July 1971, as my parents, my siblings and I prepared to leave what is today Pakistan and make our way to an occupied Bangladesh, my teachers and my friends told me in something of a polite whisper that they hoped conditions would return to normal in ‘East Pakistan’ and that we could remain brothers for all time. I was in my teens. I had heard of the atrocities Pakistan’s army was carrying out in Bangladesh. I had, with something of macabre happiness, watched army trucks transport, along the road before my school, coffins carrying the bodies of Pakistan’s soldiers killed by the Mukti Bahini in Bangladesh. My friends looked morose, naturally.For me, those sombre vehicular movements by the army were intimations that Bangladesh would be a free nation someday. Like millions of other Bengalis, I had no idea when that day would dawn, but that Pakistan would someday become a bad memory best forgotten was a truth we held on to. And so, as the time drew near for my family to board the train to Karachi and then a long, circuitous Pakistan International Airlines flight to occupied Dhaka, I told my teachers and my friends that the next time I found myself in Pakistan it would be as a citizen of a free Bangladesh republic. They looked at me, aghast, as horrified as they had been on a day a couple of months earlier when I had refused to acknowledge Mohammad Ali Jinnah as the father of the nation. Predictably, a complaint made its way to the office of the school principal. I had not only rejected Jinnah but, challenged by a Punjabi classmate to demonstrate my courage, also ripped out Jinnah’s photograph from my history textbook and flung it to the ground. The principal, a Dutch missionary, aware of my need for safety, simply wanted to know why I had committed such sacrilege. I told him I honoured my father of the nation. And it was not Jinnah. It was the imprisoned Sheikh Mujibur Rahman. He looked at me for long seconds, before simply advising me thus, ‘Be careful’.It was on a cold, blustery January day close to a quarter of a century later that my English language and literature teacher, a Pakistani who had advised me in the late 1960s to take up teaching or journalism as a profession (I have done both), recalled the moment when a free Bangladesh beckoned me as I prepared to make my way out of (West) Pakistan. I was back in Quetta, no more a Pakistani but a happy, free and secular Bengali. For about a week I moved around that garrison town, walked along the old familiar streets, remembered that Colonel Taher too had walked those same streets post-March 1971 pondering his role in a gathering war of Bengali liberation. And I felt happy, meeting old friends, trekking down to the shops I had often visited with my father as he bought bread for the family every morning, feeling that certain sense of pride which comes of being part of a free nation. Back in school, for years I had led my platoon at the march past organised by the local authorities every time Pakistan’s independence day came round on 14 August. It was a story I recalled as I walked past the field where we had marched, saluting before a dais where a dignitary stood ready to enlighten us on the sacrifices that had been made in the struggle to achieve Pakistan. It snowed as I stood there, before that desolate field, wondering at the sacrifices my own fellow Bengalis had made in 1971 in their war to be free of a menacing Pakistan. Three million of my own people had died at the hands of the Pakistan state. Tens of thousands of Bengali women had been molested and raped by the Pakistan army, which had pillaged and burnt Bangladesh’s villages for nine terrible months. It was these realities I remembered on that winter day. I felt no bitterness. I only tried understanding the mysterious ways in which history took shape at seminal points in the stories of nations. And I wondered where all the ageing Pakistani soldiers who had caused us so much misery happened to be. In this season of remembrance, as we observe yet one more anniversary of Bangladesh’s freedom, it is that secular spirit of Bengal I go back to. In 1971, as Pakistan’s soldiers stopped Bengalis on Dhaka streets and peered inside their lungis to ascertain their religious affiliations, we wondered long and hard if we could ever free ourselves of that communal dispensation. And yet there were the men who instilled courage in us. The incarcerated Bangabandhu was, and remains, our hold on history. It was that season of darkness when the principles the Father of the Nation had left us with, before he was carted off to prison, lighted up the pitch dark before us. There was the Mujibnagar government, to let us know day after day that only freedom mattered, that out of the strife and all the debris around us we would reclaim our heritage and transform our geographically small land into an ideal democratic state. It was a dream that saw fulfillment on a December afternoon. Six days into liberation, as twilight descended on the country, the men who had given shape and substance to that government, the first in Bengali history, arrived home. Nineteen days after that homecoming, it was Bangabandhu’s turn to come back to a land that had freed itself on the moral strength of his political leadership. For three and a half years thereafter, we lived in sheer enjoyment of liberty. We went hungry, we joined those long queues for rations, we went looking for the bones of those Bengalis the Pakistanis and their local henchmen had murdered. And yet we looked upon that era as a stirring period in our history, for it spoke to us of the flavour in which freedom manifested itself in the lives of people who possessed the courage to dream.
These are the thoughts that course through me today. The thrill I lived through as a teenager is the thrill I would love to go through again in my fifties and into my sixties. But then come the thoughts, brooding if you will, which throw up images of the nightmares that supplanted our dreams only three and a half years into freedom. You and I can count on our fingers the numbers of all the brave men of freedom we lost in the years after liberation. Does a revolution invariably claim its heroes? Do counter-revolutionaries, lurking in the bushes, always push patriots aside and commandeer what would have been a society of enormously talented, decidedly dedicated men of conviction? Reflect on the answers, if you can, to these questions.Of course the elements of darkness who engaged in criminality in 1971, through dispatching our patriotic Bengalis to unnecessary and unfortunate death, should pay for their heinous acts. But should that job not have been done years ago, when Zia let these bad men in through his so-called multi-party democracy, when Ershad retrieved a collaborator and turned him into a minister?These questions re-ignite the old pain in us. We have seen criminals murder the founding fathers of our free nation. Our war heroes, having waged long, twilight battles on the fields of 1971, died in internecine conflict in their liberated country. Our democracy, our socialism, our nationalism and our secularism were all done in by men we thought were the sentinels of our freedom back in 1971. Our soldiers have died on the gallows because a dictator had decreed thus. Yet another dictator sought to tamper with the judiciary and then put a communal cap on this Bengali state, to our undying shame.It is time, then, to renew the old pledge. Despite this glaring absence of enlightened Bengali nationalistic leadership today, it remains for us to light little lamps in our homes and sing songs in our villages, to pass the message on that our struggle for emancipation goes on. It is time to say Joi Bangla once more.
Politics of power versus politics of liberation
Politics is really about power; political power can be for the sake of power as also for the liberation of the people. Politics of liberation seeks to liberate all the classes in a state, including those who wield power. Quite naturally, there is a contradiction between the two. Indeed, power politics hinders politics of liberation, and, as and when the necessity arises, prevents liberation from happening. Those who are powerful want to ensure the continuation of the socio-political system on which they thrive. Liberation, on the other hand, finds it impossible to occur unless the system is overthrown. Any compromise between the two is, therefore, an impossibility.That even a struggle for independence from foreign domination can prove to be anti-liberation has been borne out by the history of the mainstream anti-colonial political movement in British India. The movement for driving away the British was, on the whole, continuous; yet it ended not in liberation of the people but only in transfer of power, preceded and followed by communal violence, bloodshed, migration and uprooting of people on an unprecedented scale. It is because of anti-liberation power politics that the subcontinent had to be partitioned. Exceptions apart, most leaders were pro-independence and not pro-liberation. In terms of human misery the putative independence of 1947 was a tragedy; next, perhaps, only to what had happened in 1757.
We in East Bengal did not take long to come to the realization that we have been betrayed. The promise held out was one of an independent homeland free from exploitation of three known enemies ? the British, the landlords and the moneylenders. That independence would not augur us well was felt by us almost as soon the new state came into being. It occurred only a few months after the achievement of independence when the founding president of the state announced in Dhaka, of all places, that Urdu and Urdu alone shall be the state language. The people of East Bengal were apprehensive that instead of being liberated they would be turned into second-class citizens. And they revolted.The state-language uprising was a beginning as well as a continuation. It was the beginning of a movement for real independence and a continuation of the one for liberation. That liberation means much more than political independence and that it cannot be achieved without a social revolution became clearer as the struggle for liberation advanced. Those who had become rulers of Pakistan had wanted political independence by which they meant transfer of power to them, and they had gained that. The people’s desire, on the other hand, was for liberation which could not be achieved without a total transformation of the social system, putting an end to all forms of exploitation and guaranteeing equality of rights and opportunities to all citizens. The rulers and the ruled stood against each other.The struggle for liberation is a continuous process. It has been there during the British period; but it failed to be the main stream owing to the repression of the rulers and the antagonism of the national movement for independence. However, most of the major uprisings in East Bengal were spearheaded by the leftists, whose ultimate dream was of a social revolution.The contradiction between those who wanted power for themselves and those who worked for empowerment of the people was beyond resolution. The distance between the two had manifested itself in the State Language Movement, the first of the many mass movements we had in the days of Pakistani repression. When the government imposed an order forbidding public gathering and procession, the mainstream political parties thought it would be imprudent to violate it, lest the disturbances likely to be caused by the violation should provide the government with an excuse for withholding the provincial election which had been overdue. But the youth, mostly students, defied the government as well as the political leaders, took to the street, and created a new history. The government arranged an election, expecting to create a division in the popular movement. Initially they failed because the political leaders formed a united front; but ultimately the governmental purpose was secured when the united front broke up on the predictable question of sharing of power. That made it easy for the military bureaucracy to usurp state power. The tactics of diverting the potentials of a revolutionary uprising into the blind alley of an election had been successfully put into practice by the British rulers in 1945. The Pakistani bureaucracy seemed to have taken the cue. But the movement for liberation continued. It brought down the regime of Ayub Khan. Yahya Khan, who took over from Ayub Khan, tried the same tactics of holding an election, hoping to divide the people of East Bengal. Having failed to do so, the disgruntled junta perpetrated one of the worst genocides in history on the Bengalis who had given through the election a verdict for independence. That is why and how the liberation war of 1971 began. Unlike the uprisings in the past it was a full-scale war, and as it gained in strength the collective dream that emerged from it went beyond the goal of independence, embodying the expectation of liberation. That we called this war one of liberation and not of independence was not without significance. The independence we were given in 1947 had taught us a lesson, and we were not prepared to have the disappointment repeated. When the Pakistani occupation army surrendered we looked forward to having a social revolution. But that was not to be. True, what happened at the end of 1971 was different from the occurrence of August 1947 in as much as power was not transferred by the rulers to a collaborating class, it was wrested from the Pakistanis through a war by a provisional government set up by the elected representatives of the people. And the state was new in many respects. It was founded on the rejection of the two-nation theory on which the Pakistani state was based and on its consequent replacement by secular Bengali nationalism. The basic principles of the state, as written in the new constitution, included secularism, democracy and socialism. But disturbingly the state machinery remained as bureaucratic as before. The organs and agencies, the laws and conventions were not changed. More importantly, the ideology of capitalist economic development ruled over all areas of the state and society as it did in the past. The rulers had changed; they were not foreigners, they belonged to soil; but having gained the power to rule they became as oppressive as those they had replaced. The euphoria began to dissipate, and feelings of frustration among the people were greater than they were after 1947, because the people had made enormous sacrifices for what they had hoped would liberate them.One of the early disappointments was the state’s failure to put the war criminals on trial. The Pakistani criminals escaped; their local collaborators were allowed to rehabilitate themselves ? socially, economically and politically. And it was not without significance that the state considered the leftist political forces who were working, rather unscientifically, for a social revolution to be greater enemies than those who had participated in the genocide.That things were not moving in the direction of the liberation of the people was indicated, symptomatically, by the acts of illegal occupation, plunder, harassment and even killing that fake freedom fighters were permitted to commit.The issuing of certificates to those who declared themselves to be freedom-fighters, ignoring the fact that barring a limited few, everyone in the country had taken part in the war in some way or other and made sacrifices, and the awarding of promotion to the government servants who claimed to have fought in the war were an anticipation of the wide-scale practice of bribery that was in the offing. Unhindered copying in public examinations began, with the guardians encouraging their wards in that indulgence. Among other things, it signified the coming of corruption and the lowering of the moral standard in all walks of life.Controlled by the hegemonic ruling class, politics itself failed to take on a democratic character. Amendments to the newly-framed constitution continued to be made to suit the undemocratic purposes of the ruling class.
We in East Bengal did not take long to come to the realization that we have been betrayed. The promise held out was one of an independent homeland free from exploitation of three known enemies ? the British, the landlords and the moneylenders. That independence would not augur us well was felt by us almost as soon the new state came into being. It occurred only a few months after the achievement of independence when the founding president of the state announced in Dhaka, of all places, that Urdu and Urdu alone shall be the state language. The people of East Bengal were apprehensive that instead of being liberated they would be turned into second-class citizens. And they revolted.The state-language uprising was a beginning as well as a continuation. It was the beginning of a movement for real independence and a continuation of the one for liberation. That liberation means much more than political independence and that it cannot be achieved without a social revolution became clearer as the struggle for liberation advanced. Those who had become rulers of Pakistan had wanted political independence by which they meant transfer of power to them, and they had gained that. The people’s desire, on the other hand, was for liberation which could not be achieved without a total transformation of the social system, putting an end to all forms of exploitation and guaranteeing equality of rights and opportunities to all citizens. The rulers and the ruled stood against each other.The struggle for liberation is a continuous process. It has been there during the British period; but it failed to be the main stream owing to the repression of the rulers and the antagonism of the national movement for independence. However, most of the major uprisings in East Bengal were spearheaded by the leftists, whose ultimate dream was of a social revolution.The contradiction between those who wanted power for themselves and those who worked for empowerment of the people was beyond resolution. The distance between the two had manifested itself in the State Language Movement, the first of the many mass movements we had in the days of Pakistani repression. When the government imposed an order forbidding public gathering and procession, the mainstream political parties thought it would be imprudent to violate it, lest the disturbances likely to be caused by the violation should provide the government with an excuse for withholding the provincial election which had been overdue. But the youth, mostly students, defied the government as well as the political leaders, took to the street, and created a new history. The government arranged an election, expecting to create a division in the popular movement. Initially they failed because the political leaders formed a united front; but ultimately the governmental purpose was secured when the united front broke up on the predictable question of sharing of power. That made it easy for the military bureaucracy to usurp state power. The tactics of diverting the potentials of a revolutionary uprising into the blind alley of an election had been successfully put into practice by the British rulers in 1945. The Pakistani bureaucracy seemed to have taken the cue. But the movement for liberation continued. It brought down the regime of Ayub Khan. Yahya Khan, who took over from Ayub Khan, tried the same tactics of holding an election, hoping to divide the people of East Bengal. Having failed to do so, the disgruntled junta perpetrated one of the worst genocides in history on the Bengalis who had given through the election a verdict for independence. That is why and how the liberation war of 1971 began. Unlike the uprisings in the past it was a full-scale war, and as it gained in strength the collective dream that emerged from it went beyond the goal of independence, embodying the expectation of liberation. That we called this war one of liberation and not of independence was not without significance. The independence we were given in 1947 had taught us a lesson, and we were not prepared to have the disappointment repeated. When the Pakistani occupation army surrendered we looked forward to having a social revolution. But that was not to be. True, what happened at the end of 1971 was different from the occurrence of August 1947 in as much as power was not transferred by the rulers to a collaborating class, it was wrested from the Pakistanis through a war by a provisional government set up by the elected representatives of the people. And the state was new in many respects. It was founded on the rejection of the two-nation theory on which the Pakistani state was based and on its consequent replacement by secular Bengali nationalism. The basic principles of the state, as written in the new constitution, included secularism, democracy and socialism. But disturbingly the state machinery remained as bureaucratic as before. The organs and agencies, the laws and conventions were not changed. More importantly, the ideology of capitalist economic development ruled over all areas of the state and society as it did in the past. The rulers had changed; they were not foreigners, they belonged to soil; but having gained the power to rule they became as oppressive as those they had replaced. The euphoria began to dissipate, and feelings of frustration among the people were greater than they were after 1947, because the people had made enormous sacrifices for what they had hoped would liberate them.One of the early disappointments was the state’s failure to put the war criminals on trial. The Pakistani criminals escaped; their local collaborators were allowed to rehabilitate themselves ? socially, economically and politically. And it was not without significance that the state considered the leftist political forces who were working, rather unscientifically, for a social revolution to be greater enemies than those who had participated in the genocide.That things were not moving in the direction of the liberation of the people was indicated, symptomatically, by the acts of illegal occupation, plunder, harassment and even killing that fake freedom fighters were permitted to commit.The issuing of certificates to those who declared themselves to be freedom-fighters, ignoring the fact that barring a limited few, everyone in the country had taken part in the war in some way or other and made sacrifices, and the awarding of promotion to the government servants who claimed to have fought in the war were an anticipation of the wide-scale practice of bribery that was in the offing. Unhindered copying in public examinations began, with the guardians encouraging their wards in that indulgence. Among other things, it signified the coming of corruption and the lowering of the moral standard in all walks of life.Controlled by the hegemonic ruling class, politics itself failed to take on a democratic character. Amendments to the newly-framed constitution continued to be made to suit the undemocratic purposes of the ruling class.
The Parliamentary system was abandoned, and a one-party system introduced, to be followed, not much later, by the discarding of the basic state principles of Bengali nationalism, secularism and socialism. A military dictator found it convenient to write into the constitution the incredible idea of a state religion. Coups and counter-coups occurred. Military rule prevailed for years together. Privatisation of public industries and property was encouraged. A few prospered depriving the rest. The dominating politics of power degenerated into trading. In a word, the spirit of liberation has been cornered, continually, and politics of power has become the order of the day.
Many of those who believed in the politics of liberation joined the politics of the ruling class, owing to frustration and lack of the courage of ideological conviction. Betrayed by the ruling class, people looked up vaguely to the leftists as they had done in the past. But the failure of the leftists was devastating. Historically, the leftists were the first to raise the demand for the liberation of Bangladesh, but they were unable to take on the leadership of the war. They were divided. Some of them were unclear about the socio-economic reality and moved fruitlessly toward extremism, some others preferred to align themselves politically with the liberal bourgeois section the ruling class. Then there were those who lost heart in the absence of role models. Many of the talented, left-leaning youth went abroad for higher education and did not return. The fact of the matter is that the left parties have not been able to perform what the public had expected of them.The vacuum was filled in by a section of the Mujib Bahini who, disappointed in their expectation of remaining close to the centre of power, put up an anti-government stance, calling themselves the Jatya Samajtantrik Dal (JSD) and declaring themselves as committed to scientific socialism. As is well-known, the Mujib Bahini was formed as a second line of defense against a possible leftist take-over. Naturally, the JSD could not go far and broke into fragments.It is from the students that the pro-liberation forces have been substantially drawn. Since the independence of 1971 attempts have been made, systematically and continuously, to depoliticize the students. Elections to students’ unions are not being held; and in the absence of elected representatives those who manage to gain access to government power act as student-leaders, engaging themselves in extortion, violence and the like, with encouragement from the ruling class. What passes for student-politics has become hateful to many, and not without reason.But the struggle for liberation is not a myth, nor has its spirit disappeared. Pro-liberation forces do exist and are active. Although many of those fought in 1971 are no longer with us, it is heartening to notice that a new generation has grown up who had not seen the war but are inclined to the idea of liberation. They are dissatisfied with capitalism and believe, even if vaguely, that the system must be changed. Institutional education has not been promoting the cause of liberation. On the contrary, the three contrary systems of education are widening the class division. Madrasha education has created a large body of unemployed and unemployable youth who are likely to fall easy prey to the political call of the fanatics and peddlers of political Islam. Even among the English-medium students there are some who, disillusioned with capitalism and unable to find a leftist outlet, tend to join the so-called Islamic terrorist outfit.
The February youth uprising, demanding proper punishment for the war criminals, bears testimony, if any be needed, to the fact that despite hindrances, discouragement and diversions, the politics of liberation continues to flow. The message of this youthful and impressive occurrence is clear. The new generation is anti-establishment in outlook; it does not trust the politics of the ruling class. It is prepared to make sacrifices if necessary, and is, at the same time, waiting for a call. The call has to come not from an individual but from a movement. That movement would not be new, it would be a furtherance of the people’s continuing struggle for liberation. And there is no reason to doubt that it is on the politics of liberation as distinguished from the politics of power that the future of Bangladesh really depends. Adjustment to the existing system would not do, reforms spoken of by Civil Society and the NGO’s would not be enough; a total transformation of the system leading to democratisation of the society and the state would be needed.
That has been our collective dream for ages, and the more we move towards its realization the greater would be reawakening from the slumber of alienation and slough of despair we seem to have fallen into.
Many of those who believed in the politics of liberation joined the politics of the ruling class, owing to frustration and lack of the courage of ideological conviction. Betrayed by the ruling class, people looked up vaguely to the leftists as they had done in the past. But the failure of the leftists was devastating. Historically, the leftists were the first to raise the demand for the liberation of Bangladesh, but they were unable to take on the leadership of the war. They were divided. Some of them were unclear about the socio-economic reality and moved fruitlessly toward extremism, some others preferred to align themselves politically with the liberal bourgeois section the ruling class. Then there were those who lost heart in the absence of role models. Many of the talented, left-leaning youth went abroad for higher education and did not return. The fact of the matter is that the left parties have not been able to perform what the public had expected of them.The vacuum was filled in by a section of the Mujib Bahini who, disappointed in their expectation of remaining close to the centre of power, put up an anti-government stance, calling themselves the Jatya Samajtantrik Dal (JSD) and declaring themselves as committed to scientific socialism. As is well-known, the Mujib Bahini was formed as a second line of defense against a possible leftist take-over. Naturally, the JSD could not go far and broke into fragments.It is from the students that the pro-liberation forces have been substantially drawn. Since the independence of 1971 attempts have been made, systematically and continuously, to depoliticize the students. Elections to students’ unions are not being held; and in the absence of elected representatives those who manage to gain access to government power act as student-leaders, engaging themselves in extortion, violence and the like, with encouragement from the ruling class. What passes for student-politics has become hateful to many, and not without reason.But the struggle for liberation is not a myth, nor has its spirit disappeared. Pro-liberation forces do exist and are active. Although many of those fought in 1971 are no longer with us, it is heartening to notice that a new generation has grown up who had not seen the war but are inclined to the idea of liberation. They are dissatisfied with capitalism and believe, even if vaguely, that the system must be changed. Institutional education has not been promoting the cause of liberation. On the contrary, the three contrary systems of education are widening the class division. Madrasha education has created a large body of unemployed and unemployable youth who are likely to fall easy prey to the political call of the fanatics and peddlers of political Islam. Even among the English-medium students there are some who, disillusioned with capitalism and unable to find a leftist outlet, tend to join the so-called Islamic terrorist outfit.
The February youth uprising, demanding proper punishment for the war criminals, bears testimony, if any be needed, to the fact that despite hindrances, discouragement and diversions, the politics of liberation continues to flow. The message of this youthful and impressive occurrence is clear. The new generation is anti-establishment in outlook; it does not trust the politics of the ruling class. It is prepared to make sacrifices if necessary, and is, at the same time, waiting for a call. The call has to come not from an individual but from a movement. That movement would not be new, it would be a furtherance of the people’s continuing struggle for liberation. And there is no reason to doubt that it is on the politics of liberation as distinguished from the politics of power that the future of Bangladesh really depends. Adjustment to the existing system would not do, reforms spoken of by Civil Society and the NGO’s would not be enough; a total transformation of the system leading to democratisation of the society and the state would be needed.
That has been our collective dream for ages, and the more we move towards its realization the greater would be reawakening from the slumber of alienation and slough of despair we seem to have fallen into.
SAMANTA ISLAM
From news-presenter to TV host
I consider myself very lucky because for our training at CSB, famous reporters from BBC and NDTV had been flown in for our simulation training. After CSB shut down I joined ETV as News & Program Presenter. My previous experience at CSB as an assistant producer helped immensely, as one can never be a proper presenter unless you have the ‘pulse’ of a news-man. Detailed understanding of pre/post production work; and sound knowledge of news writing, packaging is an essential pre-requisite I believe. I’ve had a range of people from writers, actors, cricketers, politicians on my show. It’s been an over-whelming journey.
Juggling undergrad school and TV
My duty roster was designed to compliment my class timings. Despite the crazy hectic schedules I never missed an opportunity to participate in the annual/occasional events of NSU clubs. But after graduation, my schedules were unearthly: I would wake up at 4AM to get ready for 7AM news then head for my office at 9AM. After work, I would head to the TV station at 9PM for the 11PM news and reach home at 1AM. Life was tough.
My family had my back eventually.
Sometimes I feel I could have spent more time with family/friends but I was in love with my job. Obviously they weren’t so supportive initially, but later on my passion and dedication for my work was evident and they appreciated my hard work.
Plans for comeback?
I have savoured every step of the way, climbed each stair at a time rather than get to the top at once. Of course I miss it. If the opportunity presents itself, I will definitely grab it. I was On-Air even two days before my flight to Sydney!
Crazy fans encounters!
Lots of regular fans always texted after the shows, complimenting my performance. Flower bouquet would often arrive unexpectedly at my work place. I remember once a marriage proposal arrived in my mailbox!
Ananta Jalil Casualties of Publicity
Subhan’s role was like his party guru’s
A prosecutor of International Crimes Tribunal-1 yesterday said the role of war crimes suspect Abdus Subhan was similar to that of former Jamaat-e-Islami chief Ghulam Azam during the Liberation War in 1971.Prosecutor Sultan Mahmud Simon made the comparison after submitting a formal charge against Subhan at the tribunal’s registrar office.After the prosecution informed the tribunal about the submission, the tribunal said it would fix a date today for taking cognisance of the charge.Simon yesterday told journalists that he had submitted all the necessary evidence and statements of witnesses to the tribunal.The prosecution has decided to examine 43 witnesses to prove nine counts of war crimes allegedly committed by Subhan. The war crimes investigation agency submitted the final probe report to the prosecution on September 12.Subhan spoke Urdu very well, which is why he became a close ally of Pakistani army in 1971, Simon observed.
“Under his leadership, Peace Committee and auxiliary forces of the Pakistani army, such as Razakar, Al-Badr, Al-Shams and Al-Mujahid, had been formed at different police stations in Pabna,” he added.
ALLEGATIONS
The formal charge reads: On May 12, 1971, the Pakistani army and its local collaborators under the leadership of Subhan killed 300 to 400 people at several villages in Satbaria union under Pabna’s Sujanagar Police Station.In the presence of Subhan and under his leadership, five people of Juktitala village under Ishwardi upazila were allegedly killed and three others injured on April 13, 1971.Simon said Subhan, accompanied by local Jamaat leaders and Biharies, abducted three persons, who had taken shelter at a local mosque, on April 17 and 18 in 1971. Later, they were killed in the presence of Subhan.Led by Subhan, the Pakistani army raided Sahapur village under Ishwardi on May 2, 1971, and killed several people there and looted many houses before setting those on fire.Subhan abducted two persons from Arankhola cattle market in Ishwardi on May 16, 1971. The hostages were tortured at District Dak Bungalow in Ishwardi.Subhan also led the Pakistani army in alleged attacks at Kulniya and Dogachhi villages in Pabna on May 11, 1971. Seven people were killed and several houses were torched at that time, the prosecutor said.On May 20, 1971, under the leadership of Subhan, the Pakistani army allegedly picked up 18 people from Varara village in Pabna and killed one of them instantly, Simon said, adding the others had been tortured at Nurpur Power Plant. Some of them were later killed near Debottar Bazar.In the first week of September 1971, Subhan, accompanied by local Razakars, abducted two pro-liberation persons from Dublia Bazar under Pabna sadar upazila and killed them inside a temple at Kuciamara village.On October 30, 1971, Subhan and local Razakars attacked Betbaria village under Ishwardi upazila and looted several houses before setting those on fire, said Simon, referring to the probe findings. Four people were also abducted from the village and later killed.Earlier on July 15, Ghulam Azam was sentenced to 90 years in prison for committing genocide and other wartime offences during the war.Meanwhile, defence counsel yesterday completed cross-examining the 22nd prosecution witness in the war crimes case against Motiur Rahman Nizami.Witness Shahjahan Ali gave his deposition on September 12. The proceedings of the case were adjourned until today.
“Under his leadership, Peace Committee and auxiliary forces of the Pakistani army, such as Razakar, Al-Badr, Al-Shams and Al-Mujahid, had been formed at different police stations in Pabna,” he added.
ALLEGATIONS
The formal charge reads: On May 12, 1971, the Pakistani army and its local collaborators under the leadership of Subhan killed 300 to 400 people at several villages in Satbaria union under Pabna’s Sujanagar Police Station.In the presence of Subhan and under his leadership, five people of Juktitala village under Ishwardi upazila were allegedly killed and three others injured on April 13, 1971.Simon said Subhan, accompanied by local Jamaat leaders and Biharies, abducted three persons, who had taken shelter at a local mosque, on April 17 and 18 in 1971. Later, they were killed in the presence of Subhan.Led by Subhan, the Pakistani army raided Sahapur village under Ishwardi on May 2, 1971, and killed several people there and looted many houses before setting those on fire.Subhan abducted two persons from Arankhola cattle market in Ishwardi on May 16, 1971. The hostages were tortured at District Dak Bungalow in Ishwardi.Subhan also led the Pakistani army in alleged attacks at Kulniya and Dogachhi villages in Pabna on May 11, 1971. Seven people were killed and several houses were torched at that time, the prosecutor said.On May 20, 1971, under the leadership of Subhan, the Pakistani army allegedly picked up 18 people from Varara village in Pabna and killed one of them instantly, Simon said, adding the others had been tortured at Nurpur Power Plant. Some of them were later killed near Debottar Bazar.In the first week of September 1971, Subhan, accompanied by local Razakars, abducted two pro-liberation persons from Dublia Bazar under Pabna sadar upazila and killed them inside a temple at Kuciamara village.On October 30, 1971, Subhan and local Razakars attacked Betbaria village under Ishwardi upazila and looted several houses before setting those on fire, said Simon, referring to the probe findings. Four people were also abducted from the village and later killed.Earlier on July 15, Ghulam Azam was sentenced to 90 years in prison for committing genocide and other wartime offences during the war.Meanwhile, defence counsel yesterday completed cross-examining the 22nd prosecution witness in the war crimes case against Motiur Rahman Nizami.Witness Shahjahan Ali gave his deposition on September 12. The proceedings of the case were adjourned until today.
Bangladeshis among 42 held in UAE
At least 42 illegal immigrants including Bangladeshi nationals were arrested in Sharjah of the United Arab Emirates (UAE) as part of a police campaign launched last week, reports Gulf News Monday.The arrestees were from Bangladesh, Pakistan, India and Ethiopia.The UAE police said those caught had either illegally entered the country or absconded from their sponsors.
However, the Bangladesh Consulate in Dubai could not confirm the number of the Bangladeshi nationals immediately.“The police have recently started arresting illegal nationals. But there is no official declaration from the government about the campaign,” Consul General Abu Zafar told The Daily Star over phone.The police alleged that the arrestees took part in illegal activities to earn money quickly, either by selling goods on the street, begging or gambling. They said the campaign would continue according to a security plan set by Sharjah Police.
However, the Bangladesh Consulate in Dubai could not confirm the number of the Bangladeshi nationals immediately.“The police have recently started arresting illegal nationals. But there is no official declaration from the government about the campaign,” Consul General Abu Zafar told The Daily Star over phone.The police alleged that the arrestees took part in illegal activities to earn money quickly, either by selling goods on the street, begging or gambling. They said the campaign would continue according to a security plan set by Sharjah Police.
Mother could not take it
Modified brinjal found okay
An expert committee has termed sound all scientific findings concerning the country’s first genetically modified (GM) crop — Bt Brinjal — and is now preparing its review report on those for forwarding it to the agriculture ministry, officials said yesterday.On receipt of the experts’ report, the National Technical Committee for Crop Biotechnology (NTCCB), headed by the agriculture secretary, would look into the report and then send it to the National Committee on Biosafety (NCB) for final approval.Amidst concerns by green groups over release of GM crops inBangladesh, Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina was also apprised of the Bt Brinjal developments on Tuesday last, Agriculture Minister Matia Chowdhury told The Daily Star yesterday.When the issue was raised at a meeting of the Executive Committee of National Economic Council chaired by the premier, she encouraged the agro-scientists to pursue research on better crop varieties.Bt Brinjal is infused with pest-resistant genes that will see a drastic fall in the use of harmful pesticides in the crop, said scientists, who developed the variety at Bangladesh Agricultural Research Institute (BARI).On July 15, the BARI applied to the NTCCB seeking approval of Bt Brinjal, and the NTCCB referred it to the expert committee for review.The committee at a meeting on Tuesday last reviewed the reports provided by BARI. “According to the reports we reviewed, the Bt Gene has been expressed well in our home-grown brinjals and results have been found to be homogeneous,” said Prof Rakha Hari Sarker, a member of the committee.Rakha Hari, who teaches botany at Dhaka University (DU), also said that Bt Brinjal was found to be nutritionally okay, and a toxicological report was also placed at the meeting.Executive Chairman of Bangladesh Agricultural Research Council (Barc) Dr Wais Kabir, who chaired the meeting, told this correspondent yesterday that they would forward their report to the NTCCB in a day or two.While the nutritional tests were carried out at the DU, the toxicological tests were done in internationally accredited labs in India, officials said.These developments are taking place amidst an uproar by a section of anti-GM activists, who fear that release of Bt Brinjal would eliminate local brinjal varieties, and farmers would have to buy the seeds from multinational companies.Both the agriculture minister and BARI Director General Dr Md Rafiqul Islam Mondal, however, clarified it to The Daily Star that farmers would be able to preserve and use their own seeds in growing Bt Brinjal since it is not a hybrid and there is no possibility of losing biodiversity.Unconvinced yet, two green groups took the issue to the High Court on July 30 and the HC asked the petitioners and the government to submit scientific reports, if there is any, on whether Bt brinjal is harmful to public health and the environment.Rafiqul Islam Mondal said they have already submitted the scientific reports to their counsels for submission to the HC on September 19.BARI scientists engineered brinjal, one of the country’s most consumed vegetables, by inserting a crystal protein gene (Cry1Ac) taken from the soil bacterium Bacillus thuringiensis, known as Bt, back in 2005.It took seven years to complete greenhouse trials and open-field trials of Bt Brinjal in various agro-ecological zones in the country. Bt gene insertion in brinjal makes it resistant to fruit and shoot borer (FSB) that causes 50 to 70 percent loss of brinjal yield.A major factor behind Bt Brinjal’s development was to help farmers save money they spend on pesticides for curbing FSB infestation.Unrestrained spraying of chemical pesticides adversely affects the health of farmers and workers. Pesticide residues from a concentrated use tend to remain for a longer period in vegetables, and ultimately affect the health of consumers.Farmers are found to apply pesticides up to 80 times in a cropping season of brinjal against a recommended dose of 25, making the vegetable highly toxic.Once the crop is released, Bangladesh will join a group of 28 countries that grow GM crops. Though it will be the country’s first home-grown GM crop, consumers in the country have long been exposed to GM food through consumption of imported GM soybean oil.GM crops are derived from traditional plant varieties by altering their genetic make-up in laboratories for faster growth, resistance to pests, production of extra nutrients, or any other beneficial purpose. This is usually done by adding one or more genes to a plant’s genome using genetic engineering techniques.
Congenital heart diseases and available interventions in Bangladesh
Musical homage to Nazrul
Jatileshwar Mukhopadhyay to perform at The Daily Star Centre
For his lifetime contribution to music, the artiste has received numerous awards and honours, including “Sangeet Samman”, given by the West Bengal Government, and “Jnan Prakash Ghosh Award” by the Paschimbanga Sangeet Academy.
The musical event is open to invited guests only.
A visual feast
Gallery Chitrak in Dhanmondi is to organise a solo painting exhibition, featuring the works of Paris-based Bangladeshi painter Shahabuddin Ahmed. The exhibition will open on September 28. US Ambassador in Dhaka, Dan W Mozena will inaugurate the exhibition as chief guest. Veteran artist Rafiqun Nabi and Babou KAMICHETTY, Deputy Head of Mission of Embassy of France in Bangladesh will be present as special guests at the inaugural ceremony. Acclaimed artist Qayyum Chowdhury will preside over the programme. The exhibition will continue till October 12.
About the exposition, Mohammad Muniruzzman, curator and executive director of Gallery Chitrak said, “About 30 oil paintings will be displayed at the exhibition. Freedom fighters, Liberation War and human beings in motion are the recurring themes in the upcoming exhibition. Most of the paintings are medium -sized and prices are reasonable so collectors irrespective of class and categories can collect them.”
Shahabuddin Ahmed is one of the most recognised painters of our country who carved a niche in the ’70s — a time when a few artists started to experiment, and some painters were busy establishing a personal hallmark. The painter profoundly established himself as an ardent and devoted painter over the decades. Shahabuddin is a figurative painter. His approach is semi-realistic. Most of his themes are intimately connected. His well-built figures noticeably refer to a glorious chapter in the country’s history. His figures’ movements speak the language of our freedom fighters and their untold stories. The painter focuses on freedom fighters’ strengths, their dreams and love for the country. His desires, emotions, hopes and aspirations are strongly associated with the masses of our country. He strives to visually document a certain time, moments, and he has a great tendency to mingle an era with others.
About the exposition, Mohammad Muniruzzman, curator and executive director of Gallery Chitrak said, “About 30 oil paintings will be displayed at the exhibition. Freedom fighters, Liberation War and human beings in motion are the recurring themes in the upcoming exhibition. Most of the paintings are medium -sized and prices are reasonable so collectors irrespective of class and categories can collect them.”
Shahabuddin Ahmed is one of the most recognised painters of our country who carved a niche in the ’70s — a time when a few artists started to experiment, and some painters were busy establishing a personal hallmark. The painter profoundly established himself as an ardent and devoted painter over the decades. Shahabuddin is a figurative painter. His approach is semi-realistic. Most of his themes are intimately connected. His well-built figures noticeably refer to a glorious chapter in the country’s history. His figures’ movements speak the language of our freedom fighters and their untold stories. The painter focuses on freedom fighters’ strengths, their dreams and love for the country. His desires, emotions, hopes and aspirations are strongly associated with the masses of our country. He strives to visually document a certain time, moments, and he has a great tendency to mingle an era with others.
Shahabuddin’s canvas is not quiet or tranquil at all times, sometimes it emerges boldly and projects an audacious look. His works demonstrate contemporary life and times as well. His creations motivate us and stir our patriotic senses. The artist uses space to gradually interact more with figures. His figures are always the most dominant aspect of his canvas.
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