Even before Bangladesh was born as an independent state, the country’s cultural arena has been a battleground. This fight is not waged with shields and swords. It has mainly been carried on through the narrative of “religion versus culture.” Should the ancient culture of the Bengali people, which bears the strong influence of Sanatani (Hindu), Buddhist and Islamic faiths, be the foundation of national and state identity in this land? Or should the character of this state rest only on the religious identity of its Muslim-majority citizens, where language and culture from the Arab-Persian region count for more than Bengal’s own culture?
There is no reason to doubt the narrow communal mindset hidden inside this debate and this division, and these days it is hardly hidden at all. It is also undeniable that this debate plays an important role in Bangladesh’s political divisions. Above all, it was through this very division that attempts were made in 1970 and 1971 to block the emergence of Bangladesh as an independent country. But the 1970 election and the Liberation War of 1971 defeated that effort, and Bangladesh was born on the basis of Bengali cultural identity.
Recent events show that the stirring-up of the country’s origin, identity and basis of existence through that narrow debate, which began after the 2024 change of power, has not yet died down. The anti-Liberation War mindset that raised its head under the interim Yunus government is now being revived. Those who destroyed the Sheikh Mujib Memorial Museum at Road 32 in Dhanmondi to erase the history of the Liberation War, and who vandalized sculptures related to Bangabandhu and the Liberation War across the country, are now trying to strike at the very foundation of independence by a new route.
Distortion of history
Recently, the walls along a road in Dhaka were decorated with portraits of some leading figures of Bengali culture. Many welcomed this initiative by the city authorities on the wall beside the Shilpakala Academy. But then a campaign began on social media whose language, underlying message and purpose have become very familiar since the 2024 uprising. Howevercrude the campaign’s methods, its aim is clear: To crack the country’s cultural identity, to create division on the basis ofreligion, and to move the country’s birth from 1971 back to 1947, presenting Bangladesh as a product of the “two-nation theory.”
Freedom of dissent is important in every democratic society, even when that dissent amounts to distorting history. But it would be wrong to call what has been going on in Bangladesh for the past two years merely free expression. Alongside the rewriting of the nation’s history, there has been destructive activity, extreme intolerance of and threats against the pro-Liberation War narrative, and even communally provocative statements.
Some people on social media have asked why portraits of Satyajit Ray or Ishwar Chandra Vidyasagar were placed beside those of Bangladesh’s eminent artist Zainul Abedin, the actor Humayun Faridi or the national poet Kazi Nazrul Islam. Their argument is that Ray and Vidyasagar are not “Bangladeshi.” Those who say this surely understand very well that “Bangladeshi” identity is not the point here. These figures were chosen for their mountainous contributions to Bengali culture. That is exactly their problem. But there, communalism is visibly playing a big part.
Nazrul and the nation
For example, there is no fuss about the portrait of Kazi Nazrul Islam, Bangladesh’s national poet. There is no reason for any. Just as there should be no controversy over Ishwar Chandra Vidyasagar, there should be no objection to Nazrul either, because both are Bengali and both made extraordinary contributions to Bengali literature and culture. Like Vidyasagar, Kazi Nazrul Islam was also an Indian. So why object to one of them? Because he is Hindu?
Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman brought Nazrul to Bangladesh in 1972 and allotted a house in Dhanmondi for his whole family. Nazrul was not only a leading figure in Bengali-language literature; in the backdrop of the Liberation War, he was a source of inspiration for the people. Nazrul’s poems and songs gave the people courage and inspiration in 1971. After independence, the government of independent Bangladesh felt fulfilled at being able to bring him close, and the people were happy and proud to see him with their own eyes.
The tragedy was that Nazrul had lost his understanding and his speech many years before coming to Dhaka. How much he understood that he had come to Dhaka as a guest of a newly independent state is open to question. But it was probably because of the state honour he received in Dhaka that Nazrul’s family stayed on in Bangladesh.
Nazrul was born in India, spent his whole life in India, and was an Indian. He did not become a Bangladeshi overnight by spending the last four years of his life in Dhaka. Yet there is no controversy or question anywhere about declaring Nazrul the national poet of Bangladesh. There should not be. Likewise, there should be no question or controversy about adopting a song written by Rabindranath Tagore as the national anthem. But here too, out of exactly the same communal mindset, controversy has been created over Rabindranath, a follower of the Brahmo Samaj, and over his song “Amar Shonar Bangla.”
The drama and the police response
A drama of erasing Rabindranath’s portrait from the wall of the Shilpakala Academy was also staged recently. It has to be called a drama because, while a woman was about to deface Rabindranath’s portrait with ink, countless people were seen around her filming on their phones, and perhaps one or two were even live-streaming. At that very moment, a policeman ran up and stopped her!
The whole incident looked like a publicity stunt. But afterwards the police filed a “sedition” case against the woman and four people from her organization, arranging even more publicity for them. The communal mindset of an organization that exists in name only, expressed through vandalism, may be seen as a nuisance. But whether it is reasonable to treat it as outright “sedition” is a question that can certainly be asked.
Yet there is also a silver lining behind the dark cloud. On one hand, the police reaction seems excessive, especially when the alleged “crime” is essentially confined to a political statement. On the other hand, the authorities’ firmness deserves praise. Had the same incident happened under the Yunus government, the portraits of Satyajit Ray and Ishwar Chandra Vidyasagar might have been wiped off the Shilpakala Academy wall overnight. Perhaps the officials in charge at the city authority would have had to answer for it, and perhaps a job or two would have been at stake.
It goes without saying that the course of events will not stop here. The process of cutting the people of Bangladesh off from their cultural history and heritage, which began two years ago, will undoubtedly continue. Whether the government will confront this tendency, or stay indifferent like the Yunus government and in effect keep encouraging it, is a decision the BNP must make.
Instead of isolated reactions to isolated incidents and overreactions like the “sedition” case, it is time for the government to send a clear message. The foundation of Bangladesh’s birth is the language and culture of Bengalis irrespective of religion or caste. In the Bengali language, literature and the whole cultural arena, no division on the basis of religion, or of which side of the border someone was born on, is acceptable. The government must give this message clearly. Otherwise the possibility will remain that this artificial division turns into political, social and communal conflict.
Sabir Mustafa is the former head of BBC Bangla and is currently working as a freelance journalist and podcaster. Views expressed are the author’s own.