I recently read the op-ed titled “In defense of the ban” in the Dhaka Tribune, written in support of the government’s ban on Facebook. It was a response to a response to a state minister’s op-ed that advanced the ban as a means of saving lives. Typically, readers may consider a fourth installment on the topic “too much,” but there is much more at stake here than mere smileys.
A defense of government censorship is always intriguing, in that there are not many ways to defend heavy-handed media regulation by the state, without resorting to appeals to “security,” “protection” (eg from cultural imperialism) or “loyalty.” Arguments that go beyond these political tropes often make for interesting reading. The ban defense piece, however, was a disappointment.
The piece opens with a gruesome, moving description of BNP-Jamaat violence and tragedy, narrating the story of differently-abled Shohag, 18, who was burned to death earlier this year.
While deeply tragic, the story has little to do with the ban. Invoking the death of Shohag to justify a ban on social media was in poor taste (as it is to do in the service of any political agenda).
Especially when it cannot be rationally argued that social media bans could have prevented such tragedy.
Also in poor taste were allusions to “snobbery” and “elitism” of the previous author -- because it betrayed contempt for the writer instead of a desire to rationally critique the contents.
It is with the leveraging of tragedy and an ad hominem attack that the piece moved on to its main arguments.
Firstly, the formulation of Facebook as a place for likes and smileys unnecessarily undermines the intellectual discourse that has opened up in the aftermath of 1/11 and Shahbagh.
In fact, Facebook was much more pivotal in spreading the message of Shahbagh than were blogs.
The social media platform also rose to the occasion during the collapse of Rana Plaza, the death of Rajon, the anti-VAT protests, and in a general sense, during the process of the war criminal trials.
Mainstream media now regularly source opinions from Facebook.
To collectively enjoy the benefits of a rapid-sharing platform and then deny its utility to defend a government-enforced ban is disingenuous to say the least.
Secondly, the writer terms “absurd” and “pathetic” the proposition that miscreants/terrorists could possibly switch platforms to keep communications up. His argument seems to be that miscreants are “just enough” tech-savvy to use Facebook, but not other applications.
This may be construed as an underestimation of ideologically or financially motivated actors who seek to create chaos and fear to gain power.
Anyone who remembers the political violence of the pre-2004 era will know that political violence is very much possible without Facebook. The recent incident at Tejgaon involving a Dhaka mayor also testifies to this fact.
Miscreants move within our society, and like everyone else, always find a way to communicate: The assumption that miscreants are not tech-savvy or cannot adapt to a changing social media landscape is baseless.
Not to mention that almost every newspaper has alluded to “alternative methods of accessing Facebook” in the past week.
Throughout the piece, it is posited that non-events should be accepted as indicators of (anti-terrorism) success.
While “evidence of absence” is not necessarily “absence of evidence” -- mass arrests, weakening of grassroots, backfiring of previous violence, disintegration of leadership, or shifts in tactics could each account for the lack of violence.
Next, consider this line: “The writer assumed that the rationale behind banning Facebook temporarily lies in the fact that it can kill people.”
On the contrary, a reading of the state minister’s piece and the rebuttal would have revealed that the argument came from the former and was framed as “banning Facebook saves lives.”
In moving on to a patriotic concluding note, the writer bafflingly argues that questioning government bans could only stem from the infantile need to update statuses at the cost of working-class lives.
This leap of reasoning hints at a limited understanding of the role of Facebook as a public discourse platform, the role of free media in the democratic process, and the constant citizen activism needed to preserve such platforms.
Incompleteness constitutes a fourth weakness of the article.
The op-ed fails to address at least three critical points raised in the piece it counters: Namely, the claim that many developed countries, eg France, the US, the UK, did not ban their social media even after attacks (perhaps because it is a discredited anti-terrorism strategy, though it may have limited application in counter-insurgency measures).
Next, it ignores the proposition that protesting government censorship is not in any way unpatriotic or subversive.
There is much more to democracies than applauding every government move, and in fact, challenging the ruling-elites must be a constant preoccupation of the modern citizen.
Also missing was any acknowledgement of the value of digital evidence in identifying and prosecuting criminals.
Last but not the least, the issue of economic losses and plummeting data usage too went unanswered and was dismissed with rhetorical questions about why this hue and cry did not emerge when BNP-Jamaat were exacting their deadly vengeance earlier this year.
Ignoring this dated line of sentimental reasoning, perhaps we can agree that there is little scope to defend economic losses in the name of a strategy that has no evidenced efficacy.
Treading cautiously, I will just say this: It is unwise to compare costs of BNP-Jamaat’s violence and murders to that of the government’s regulation of media space. Their moral, legal, political, and social statuses are not the same.
In the end, let us not forget that the current ban will have to be lifted at some point -- what happens then?
For seasoned, entrenched, and manipulative political actors, it is not uncommon to lay low for a while and start anew once the dust settles. Bangladesh will still be left with the same challenges as before.
It is for this very reason that banning SMS services or mobile money transfers would not make particularly good counter-measures to violence.
Bans are no more than band-aid measures that cover the wound without healing it. They more likely prevent smileys than they deter motivated perpetrators of violence.
Criminals may use the same services/amenities as us, but it doesn’t mean we should jettison critical communications infrastructure altogether.
Note that Twitter wasn’t shut down to combat the misnomer Islamic State (neither Islamic, nor a state), which regularly tweets its propaganda and videos.
A medium is a medium. It brings ideas to surface and creates exchanges, it generates critical analyses and reinforces impetus for righting social evils.
Societies stagnate and ossify in the absence of new ideas, propositions, debates, and analyses.
Simply think about how the state minister’s op-ed has spawned a complex, but necessary discourse about security-freedom tradeoffs.
Without digital and social media, where would these conversations take place?
In choosing to shut down communications to inconvenience miscreants, we must not throw the baby out with the bathwater.
