Few years have been as eventful or as explosive as 2013 was, in our relatively recent history as the People’s Republic of Bangladesh. It was marred by upheavals, transformations, political stand-offs and social unrest, resulting in violent confrontations on a near regular-basis. Various fractures along social, economic and religious lines have been exposed and dormant forces have come to the fore in a way that leaves very little doubt that Bangladesh is experiencing an uncomfortable “coming of age” crisis.
It began with the demands for the death penalty, following a War Crimes Tribunal verdict, which gave Quader Molla a life sentence – seen as too lenient by the crowds that converged at Shahbagh in February. This quickly developed into a national movement, but a highly polarising one, since Jamaat-e-Islami and other opposition parties questioned the veracity of the tribunal’s findings, and insisted that Molla and others accused were being targeted for political motives. Their concerns were echoed by various rights groups and by a number of foreign governments. Still, the demand for justice for crimes committed in 1971 was a galvanising call, and awoke nationalistic sentiments that were severely offended by the impression that an anti-war crimes tribunal position was automatically an anti-liberation position. This was further aggravated by allegations that Jamaat-Shibir activists were attacking Hindus, temples and cultural symbols like Shaheed Minars.
Things deteriorated fast and very soon, convoluted associations were being made on both sides of a widening fault line. The Shahbagh movement was mistakenly associated with atheism and anti-Islam, for its perceived persecution of “Muslim” leaders and for some controversial blogs written by participants in the movement. Rajib Haider, one of the original organisers of the Shahbagh protests, was unfortunate enough to have lost his life at the hands of religious extremists for this.
But Shahbagh conflated war criminals with religion-based political parties, ie with Jamaat-e-Islam, leading to the valid impression that it was not just about war crimes. Institutions linked to Islamic parties, like the Islamic Bank and Ibn Sina Hospital were placed on the firing line. The AL capitalised on the opportunity to push its nemesis, the BNP, altogether off the stage, and raided its office, carting away busloads of its activists and a large part of its leadership. It did this in the name of preventing terrorism, as BNP was being inextricably linked to Jamaat, whose activists were said to be committing acts of terror. In this roundabout way, the AL sought to rid itself of political opponents. Rallies and demonstrations came under attack, casting aspersions on the AL’s commitment to democratic free expression.
The violence escalated dramatically. Sporadic scattered attacks became an everyday occurrence, and crude bombs were being detonated with increasing frequency. To control this the police were authorised to use excessive force, leading to brutality and deaths, fuelling further violent retaliations.
In April, Hefazat-e-Islam, a group of Deobandist Madrasa teachers and students, in existence since 2010, burst onto the scene demanding death to the Shahbagh bloggers along with 12 other absolutely unacceptable demands, which included curbs on “free mixing,” free speech and an end to women empowerment. Disavowing any connection with Jamaat-e-Islam, Hefazat claimed to be an apolitical entity, interested only in preserving the sanctity of Islamic civilisation. But their similarities to Jamaati rhetoric were too obvious to miss, even for Jamaat itself, who piggybacked off this “Islamic blowback” in an attempt to redress the balance of popular power. They held a massive rally at Shapla Chattar in Motijheel to demand an end to what they saw as immoral governance. Many fiery speeches ensued, along with several threats, but by and large the assembly was peaceful.
April is marked for other reasons though. On the 24th of the month, Rana Plaza collapsed, killing over a thousand garments workers. It was the single largest industrial disaster in the country and one of the worst in the world, exposing systemic frailties that had already brought the sector into considerable disrepute following previous disasters. It pitted workers against owners, leading to several weeks of protests and fears that the industry, the largest in the country, would collapse under the weight of international pressure, demands for better conditions and outright vandalism. Debates over the formation of trade unions, minimum wages and global comparative advantages were revisited, leading to a number of resolutions being signed, along with, later in the year, a revised pay-scale. But the difficult balance between economic competitiveness and workers rights remains elusive and a looming class conflict seems only to have been put off for the moment, but not permanently prevented. A silver lining to this terrible incident was the massive support rescue operations received from ordinary citizens of every stripe, who risked their own lives and dug deep into their pockets to save over 2,500 people from the rubble, in a valiant show of solidarity. Less heartening however, was the industry’s and the administration’s response.
May saw a return to ideological confrontations, but none as controversial as the violence surrounding a second Hefazat-e-Islam rally in Motijheel. After day-long running battles between the police and activists of undecipherable affiliation, the areas around Paltan, Baitul Mukarram and Motijheel resembled a war zone, which left several Hefazat men dead as a result of police firing. The conflict reached dangerous proportions as Hefazat-e-Islam refused to give up their position at Shapla Chattar (Motijheel), leading to an enormous push by combined security forces to dislodge them in the dead of the night. This was accompanied by a media blackout, making it difficult to confirm the number of casualties it caused. Hefazat claims it is in the thousands, while the government insists that no one died in the night raid.
In June mayoral elections in all major cities of the country were won by the opposition, despite, many would say, the AL best efforts to discredit them. This was a reflection of the AL’s dwindling popularity but it also lent credence to its claim to be able to hold fair and free elections on its watch, without a caretaker system in place for the next general elections. The abolition of the caretaker system is a major sticking point for the BNP, which insisted that it be restored ahead of coming elections. The AL refused to budge and a political impasse developed that has resulted in the BNP boycotting the elections, leaving more than half the elected seats in Parliament uncontested. Earlier, following the death of Zillur Rahman, Speaker Abul Hamid became president of the Republic, while Shirin Sharmin Chaudhury, an unelected MP, became Speaker. With an AL-dominated house, an AL Speaker, and an AL President, the BNP continued to boycott parliament, leaving little room for participatory democracy to flourish.
Instead of a caretaker government, the AL opted for a multi-party polls-time government, seeking inclusion of all the major parties, including the BNP. Simultaneously, Jamaat-e-Islam was barred from participating in the elections, and number of new parties were allowed to register.
The street violence continued unabated, with attacks and retaliatory police action growing more and more brutal, and continuous hartals crippled the economy. Even the month of Ramadan gave agitators no occasion to pause. The government’s crackdown on freedom of speech also continued, with an amended ICT law giving them powers to detain and arrest anyone expressing anything that could be deemed seditious, even in a facebook status. A Russian built nuclear power plant was inaugurated at Rooppur, amidst controversy about the safe handling of nuclear waste, while plans for a coal-fuelled one at Ramphal, near the Sundarbans, brought environmentalists on the streets in protest.
The war crimes tribunal, following the protests at Shahbagh in February, amended its rules to allow prosecutors to appeal for a higher sentence, resulting in Quader Molla’s life-sentence being converted to death in September. This was seen as a popular victory, but also as a travesty of justice by eternal observers. The tribunal also handed down other death sentences, allowing the AL to keep to its electoral pledge of bringing known war criminals to book. These were widely popular among mainstream Bangladeshis, but once again, the religious right perceived it as a persecution of Muslim leaders, while the oppositions parties viewed it as political manoeuvring.
The unwillingness of leaders of the two major parties to come to terms or even to engage in any sort of constructive dialogue became a national sore point in October, and when it finally did happen the telephone conversation between Khaleda Zia and Sheikh Hasina became a national embarrassment, and resulted in nothing more than bickering of a most unflattering kind. The strikes continued and so did the killings on the streets.
In November, Sheikh Hasina brought into being the multi-party interim government to oversee the elections, scheduled for January 5. This was met with resistance by the opposition parties, and street violence, now an everyday affair, escalated to include the murdering of innocent commuters, when buses full of passengers were set alight with petrol bombs. The number of casualties grew daily. This, in turn, led to a further crackdown on the opposition leadership, with the BNP having to resort to issuing statements from undisclosed locations, like outlaws and terrorists.
As December rolled around, it became clear that the elections would not be inclusive, as the BNP refused to participate, while Jatiya Party chief Hossain Muhammed Ershad flipped and then flopped, agreeing to participate one day, and then refusing to another. In dramatic fashion he declared he would commit suicide if he was arrested, yet did no such thing when law enforcers took him away, ostensibly for his own good. The AL announced 154 seats of the 300 elected seats in parliament would be uncontested and therefore filled by MPs of the ruling alliance, making an already unrepresentative election all the more farcical.
Quader Molla was executed on the 12th of December, bring the process that began in February, full circle. The Pakistani parliament, controversially, expressed sympathy for Molla, causing considerable resentment in Bangladesh, and led to attempts at surrounding the Pakistani High Commission. Once again, Islamists expressed their ire by killing ordinary citizens and Hefazat-e-Islam sought permission for a third mass rally in the capital, but were denied it. The Commonwealth and the European Union announced that they would not be sending observers for the January elections, and on December 26 the government deployed the army to prevent a further escalation of violence. On December 29 the government intercepted an opposition-planned “March for Democracy” rally, and the capital was cut off from the rest of the country to prevent opposition activists from gathering in the city. The government also called on AL activists to be armed and ready on the streets to prevent any opposition agitation. The did this with relish, even invading the Supreme Court premises and attacking demonstrating pro-BNP lawyers, including women. Opposition leader Khaleda Zia was also prevented from leaving her house to join the rally.
Businessmen also took to the streets in December, to demand a restoration of normalcy, as the political violence is severely affecting their businesses and in turn the economy.
Needless to say, 2013 has been fraught with controversy and bloodshed. It has been the year of settling scores, acid-testing national cohesion, revisiting old fractures and creating new ones. It has shown us, clearly, that we are still far from being able to pull in the same direction, but are instead dangerously close to being pulled apart by forces that have not yet found a way to co-exist. Where we will be after the dust settles, is anyone’s guess.