It’s a fad nowadays to talk about revolutions and uprisings, especially as December brings on the holiday season.
So here’s a morsel of a revolution that put Bangladesh on what many believed to be the right track after almost two decades of bloodshed, tumult, political intrigue, coups, and a long eight-year spell of autocracy.
December 1990 was not only a period of transition in Bangladesh; the whole of Europe was undergoing massive change due to the fall of the Berlin wall a year earlier in November 1989 and, all across the globe, the reverberations of the crumbling of the Iron Curtain were being felt.
Here in Bangladesh, 1990 heralded the end to an almost 19 years of upheaval, with promising signs that a prolonged period of socio-economic uncertainty and volatility would finally lead to a period of stability.
In the years preceding the fall of the autocratic regime which usurped power in 1982, Bangladesh had seen some drastic changes that would have far reaching implications, nationally as well as globally.
Thirty five years later, standing in December 2025, a deep reflection back in time illustrates the contrasting social fabric, an evolution of ethos along with the long-term impact of the beliefs in 1990.
Youth leaving the middle class morass
Life in 1990 was more or less similar to what people were accustomed to in 1980. The notion that Bangladesh was a “poor” nation was implanted in the minds of most, the RMG industry was at a nascent stage, the word “millionaire” was rarely heard, a man who had a job, any job, was thought to have made it in life while terms like “corporate ladder,” “creature comforts,” and “gadget freak” did not exist.
For educated women, teaching was the ultimate in career while most middle-class aspirations rarely entertained exotic holidays overseas.
However, there was the obsession with going to the US to catch the American dream. This desire was something of a paradox because while for most middle-class families, “ambition” stopped after getting an employment, the need to finish education on time prompted thousands of young HSC graduates to leave for the US to pursue university education that would finish on time.
This may sound bizarre to many readers but in the 80s, due to relentless political turmoil and never-ending agitation against the government in place, the biggest victim was the tertiary level education system.
In a time before private universities, the only way to complete higher level education was through public institutes which faced a ghastly session jam due to irregular classes and frequent closures.
Dhaka University suffered the most because it was the epicentre of the movement aimed at bringing down the authoritarian regime.
Four-year courses took eight and it was a common thing to see a person pushing 30 still grappling to finish university education.
The impact of the protracted academic life severely hindered youth morale, with the disenchanted unemployed young man becoming the perennial protagonist in contemporary films and drama. The image of the educated unemployed young man with a cynical outlook became the standard image in fiction.
Fortunately, the smart/canny ones with a little money decided to leave and the place to go was the US.
When the regime fell on December 6, 1990, the trend of going abroad to finish education and, usually to stay back in a foreign land, had become a major preoccupation for a large segment of the middle class.
The American Bangladeshi diaspora that we now see had its foundation built in the 80s. By 1990, many of the students who left Bangladesh five or six years earlier had already started working in the States.
At the height of the anti-autocratic movement, firebrand students toiled all through the night writing slogans on the walls, living on filter-less cigarettes and tea.
As the regime fell, they rejoiced.
Within a year, a new democratically-elected government was in power; after about 10 years in shambles, the academic calendar was followed without any unexpected delays although the going overseas for education had, by then, become something of an obsession.
Many of those dyed in the wool revolutionaries cut their hair, sat for the TOEFL exam, put on a clean suit, and stood in line for a visa to catch a dream abroad.
December 1990 in Deep Purple exuberance:
You must be wondering why December 1990 was purple, right?
Well, in October 1990, Deep Purple, the British rock band, had just released their album Slaves and Masters, which was on display in the local music recording shops Soor Bichitra, Rainbow, and Rhythm by December 1990.
The albums were brought from Singapore, coinciding with the rage and glory of December 1990.
Did the title of the album reflect what was happening on the streets?
You bet!
Talking about the album and its impact on the youth of the time who were on the streets chanting slogans, acclaimed photographer Imtiaz Alam Beg, said: “Naturally, the name of the album struck a chord with the people who felt stifled under a coercive government. The first track, King of Dreams, was the motivating number.”
Bob Marley’s Get Up Stand Up had been an unofficial song capturing the ideals of the time but Slaves and Masters appeared when the movement reached a crescendo, he added.
The album’s release also aligned with the apotheosis of the local band music culture which, at this time, was singing the desires of the masses.
Soon after the fall, a massive free concert, celebrating Victory Day, was held at the Dhaka University premises.
It was a celebration of red and green of course, but somewhere in the heart, a small part was also purple.
Towheed Feroze is a former journalist.