I am often annoyed when some of my friends, born and raised in developed countries, describe conditions in Bangladesh. I find that some their accounts miss the essence of the land. Their stories are akin to describing Mozart’s symphony after reading about the symphony in a book, and having never heard it -- void of certain emotions and references that are so natural to us.
The mess of a system that we live in, a satire in itself, is hard to completely breathe in, unless you have called this land your own for many years and have experienced many things deshi style.
I have realised that I sound equally annoying when I talk about the Liberation War. I just cannot see it through the same lens that my previous generation can. It’s not the same lens. And theirs have blood on it.
I was born in a free country. I was born a Bangladeshi and the language I spoke at home was the national language of the country. For me, the struggle and fight behind all of this is a story -- a historical account.
Stories about my grandfather being taken and killed by the Pakistani military, my father’s struggle during and after the war, my mother’s stories -- affect me deeply. But the sting is not quite so real. How can it be? I haven’t experienced them myself -- my father was not taken, I did not have to walk for miles and spend months in hiding, I did not have to see any of my friends and neighbours die and be raped.
But I am glad I was born a Bangladeshi. And grateful.
Although, maybe if we were still Pakistan, I could get shot like Malala and become famous.
Jokes apart, even though Pakistan is a beautiful country and we have much in common, being a part of Pakistan does not seem attractive at all. Drone attacks, bombs going off in busy marketplaces, and a Taliban-infested land -- Bangladesh is not so bad after all!
The then Pakistan government showed utmost determination to not let go of land and control. Yahya Khan said: “Kill three million of them and the rest will eat out of our hands.” A merciless genocide followed and the occupation forces left no stone unturned -- the kind of conviction that comes when you want to make sure what you have is not taken from you.
The Bengali conviction was no less, and backed by Indian forces, a strong Bengali retaliation followed.
Our ambitions for rights to self determination was achieved by a bloody and traumatic war.
The sad truth about ambitions is that they are either achieved or abandoned. Either ways, they become a thing of the past. And new complications materialise.
We won the war. We became a sovereign nation. The Liberation War liberated us from being dependent on the state of Pakistan.
But there is still a lot to be liberated from and a similar conviction would help us now.
It is easier to identify an enemy that attacks in the middle of the night with heavy arms and ammunition. When there is blood and screams, there is nothing left to guess. Those were East Pakistan’s problems.
Bangladesh has other problems.
And does the ordinary Bangladeshi have rights to self-determination? What does he get out of belonging to a country that is free to do so?
With little to no social security and heavy obstacles to enter institutions -- the ordinary man is left with a life full of hardship and a life that is difficult to determine.
A Bangladeshi must be able to fully provide for herself and her family. There is no adequate government support during unemployment, decent job opportunities are limited, the public education system is beyond inadequate, and public health facilities are a joke.
To add to the misery, political parties and some corporate heavyweights are always lurking around the corner to take advantage of a disadvantaged people. Issues of labour rights, which are fundamental in developed countries, are still in shambles in our free land. These battles were fought and won a long time ago in the West. Here, the big car is still honking, with all its might and glory and one finger, at the rickshaw carrying passengers in the heat.
A life of dignity is still a dream. For many, if not most.
This can change or improve with the kind of determination and leadership that we had in 1971. Dedicated leadership is what we do not have in Bangladesh, and that is exactly what is needed to manage existing resources and take initiatives.
Politicians, who see the social ailments as urgent enemies that take away from our freedom, need to take charge and work towards our “liberation.” Will it actually be harder to combat than an army that carried out a systematic genocide?
An independent state seemed like an equally unrealistic vision at the time of the war.
A large population remains disenfranchised and powerless, with a goal to not succeed, but just survive. Without an inheritance and connections, this is still a ruthless country.
Every man is not free after all.
Orwell might say that there is still a boot stamping on our faces. The leg has changed.