“It is the practice of our justice to condemn some as a warning to others. To condemn them because they have done wrong is stupidity, as Plato says; for what is done cannot be undone. But they are condemned so that they may not do the same wrong again, or so that others may avoid the example of their wrongdoing.” -- Montaigne
In a nation-state, only the government is entrusted with the authority to use force against an individual in order to safeguard and preserve the constitutionally endowed rights of the citizenry at large.
This is the solemn “social contract” upon which rests the very existence of a modern nation-state. When the government reneges on its duty of upholding the constitutionally-mandated laws and regulations, anarchy, “a war of every man against every man,” ensues.
The Leviathan of Thomas Hobbes crumbles down like Humpty Dumpty. Having said that, I shall return to Limon, and in sequence, to Rajon.
Limon was an innocent citizen who was terribly wronged by an officer of the republic. Officers can go rogue, and there are laws to curb those rogue and rotten elements. But in the case of Limon, the government, violating its solemn duty to protect and preserve the rights of a citizen, instead opted to be the rogue element.
In Narayanganj-7, the officers of the republic went rogue. The nature of the crime was such that the outcry was too loud. After vacillating a while, the government decided to take action.
The number one culprit is still at large. Some implicated officers of the republic, as per media reports, still wield enormous power. Well, things still are in process, and the nation waits.
Biswajit was killed brutally by thugs of the ruling party while the officers of the republic watched. It is a crime of omission on the part of the government.
Avijit was hacked to death and his wife was maimed, supposedly by some anti-government extremist outfit.
However, the government hierarchy decided to go slow and an unofficial official closely allied to the “all-powerful” prime minister placed a damper on proper investigation and prosecution.
This case is possibly destined to be in limbo forever.
And this brings us full circle to Rajon. A few vicious citizens took the matter into their own hands and murdered him in brio, and even had the audacity to record footage to “let the world see.”
In the case of Limon, the government’s culpability cannot be denied. In the subsequent examples, the government’s culpability, in general perspective, gradually decreases to the point of zero in the case of Rajon. But is it so?
I asked a very learned Facebook friend of mine the following question: “Is there a subliminal link between Khaleda’s indifference to fire-bombing or Hasina’s tacit support of Limon and the brutal killing of Rajon for the garden-variety commoner?” His answer was: “There is, in fact.”
He then proceeded to give a philosophical/psychological explanation of such behaviour. I, however, would like to view the whole thing from a different perspective -- law and order.
As Montaigne says: “They are condemned so that they may not do the same wrong again, or so that others may avoid the example of their wrongdoing.”
Thus, proper enforcement of law and punishment of individuals for wrongdoing is essential for the determent of future wrongdoings.
I am afraid to say that differential law enforcement has become a norm in Bangladesh.
When an officer of the republic or a functionary of the ruling party (irrespective of party affiliation) commits a punishable crime, the wrath of the law hardly touches them. Ruling party members, even the tinier members of myriad outfits, wield significant power on local law-enforcement agencies. And that is no good.
When lack of accountability or punishment becomes the norm, even the puny guys at the periphery get emboldened, and many more Rajons get killed.