Jamaat-e-Islami Secretary General Ali Ahsan Mohammad Mujaheed, who had absolute control over the killer force - al-Badr, Wednesday lost control at the tribunal as he was given the death sentence.
The man who had ordered al-Badr force to exterminate hundreds of people, especially intellectuals, in 1971, witnessed his execution order, delayed by more than 41 years, in a choked up courtroom.
The Jamaat leader, described as an “atrocious al-Badr” commander by the tribunal Wednesday, apparently tried to maintain decorum during the judgement session, but in the end, lost his temper.
Mujaheed, 66, was brought to the tribunal building from Dhaka Central Jail around 9:40am amid tight police security. He was kept inside the prison room, situated on the ground floor near the stairs leading to the courtroom.
He was in his regular snow-white Pajama-Punjabi, with silver-framed spectacles, black wristwatch, ash socks and biscuit-coloured shoes.
Sitting on a chair inside the prison room, he was laughing (around 10:05am) with another alleged war criminal Salauddin Quader Chowdhury, who was brought to attend another court.
With the countdown of his appearance in court, Mujaheed was seen moving his lips. He then started reading newspapers until the police asked him to go to the courtroom located at the first floor of the building.
At 10:41am, Mujaheed walked into the court, 16 minutes after the room was unlocked for all. He sat on the only chair in the dock, located on the left side (west) of the courtroom’s lone door.
The panel chief, Justice Obaidul Hasan, Justice Mozibur Rahman Miah and Judge Shahinur Islam took their seats at 10:45am at the podium, on the opposite direction (east) of Mujaheed. He could see the judges, who were at best 18 metres off, through the bars of the wooden dock.
Three feet below the podium, six bench officers (including a female) sat on another long podium to provide secretarial supports for the judges.
The third layer of the courtroom is fitted with couches in two columns, with a six-feet-passage between them.
The column on the right side of the judges had 19 rows of sofas each of which accommodates five persons on average. The defence lawyers, Jamaat-Shibir leaders, their sympathisers, and some journalists sat here.
In the other column, 20 sofa sets on the left of the judges, the prosecutors, some freedom fighters, anti-Jamaat activists and reporters sat to witness and listen to the verdict, which was delivered in three parts.
Mujaheed’s three sons – Ali Ahsan Tasdeed, Ali Ahsan Tahkik and Ali Ahsan Mabrur – and another family member sat on the last sofa, just one and a half feet away from the dock. They spoke to Mujaheed several times.
Some people sat on the chairs placed haphazardly next to the couches. Apart from them, some 50 people, mainly near the door, stood for hours and witnessed the judgement being delivered.
As soon as the proceedings started, one of the defence lawyers spoke to Mujaheed for a few minutes, followed by a brief opposition from the prosecution.
At 10:52am, the tribunal chairman made some comments on commoners’ comments on the trial of the war criminals on the streets and in the media. He then asked Judge Shahinur Islam to read out the first part of the 37-page verdict containing the abridged version of the 209-page judgement detailing the seven charges against Mujaheed.
The Jamaat leader was very attentive to the judges’ comments, so were his three sons. Putting his hands sometimes on the dock and sometimes his chair’s handle, Mujaheed stared at the judges who read out seven charges against him one after another.
His sons, especially Mabrur, uttered “pooh, pooh” (Chhi! Chhi! In Bangla) condemning the prosecution for the charges they brought against Mujaheed.
They all looked at each other and laughed as Judge Shahinur Islam declared Mujaheed liable for charge one, the killing of martyr journalist Sirajuddin Hossain. At 11:17am, his eldest son Tasdeed had his head down.
They raised their heads as the judge acquitted Mujaheed in the next two charges (number two and four) – genocide and crimes against humanity in Faridpur.
In a mood of censure, they gave the same expression “pooh, pooh” and laughed at Justice Mozibur Rahman who pronounced Mujaheed liable for the next three charges – murder, extermination of intellectuals and crimes against humanity in Dhaka.
At 12:03pm, Mujaheed was sitting comfortably in his chair, apparently being resigned to fate. He then looked at the roof of the room with gloomy eyes. After around 10 minutes, his sons were also seen dejected. Mabrur looking at his father raised his arms to try and get support for him, but his brothers were too devastated to do anything.
As soon as Justice Obaidul Hasan announced capital punishment for the charges one, six and seven, Mujaheed jumped off from his chair in anger and started dissenting.
“[It is] 100% injustice. I was not in Faridpur. I have been victimised for my role in Islamic movement,” said Mujaheed, who was accompanied by police to leave the room immediately after the judges left. Second son Tahkik broke down into tears while his siblings tried to console him.
Convicted, Mujaheed was reciting a verse from the holy Quran while leaving the courtroom. He took seat on the same chair in the prison room on the ground floor. There Mujaheed again met the senior BNP leader, Salauddin Quader.
The police later cordoned Mujaheed out of the tribunal building for Dhaka Central Jail.
The prosecution members, the anti-Jamaat members and the freedom fighters did not shout in joy as they did in the previous instances. Some of them looked at each other with smiling faces and hugged.
Golam Arif Tipoo, the chief prosecutor, Ziad Al Malum, Tureen Afroz and others rushed to the reporters waiting outside and expressed their satisfaction over the verdict.
“We are very happy with the judgement. We want its implementation as soon as possible,” Tipoo told the Dhaka Tribune.
