Normally I wouldn't be writing this, but I have little better to do ... the internet has long been down across the country and the streets are now battlegrounds, reserved only for those brave enough to fight.
How did such a simple demand spiral into this bleak situation? Throughout the history of this quota-reform movement, the demonstrations by the students were mostly peaceful -- disruptive perhaps, but not violent. But as their voices grew louder, their oborodhs spanning multiple cities finally annoyed the wrong people, and the response that ensued blew things way out of proportion.
Pictures of bloodied students of Dhaka University being beaten by the police and Chhatra League members went viral on social media -- some posts even added that old-school sepia filter to highlight how brutality against student protesters never changes.
Then came July 16, the penultimate day. A video of a protester, Abu Sayed, being shot down by the cops in Rangpur rocked the entire nation. He and five others are now being hailed as martyrs of the movement for giving their lives on that day.
The police shot first. And if there’s anything the history of student protests in this country indicates, it’s that students don’t just lay down and take it.
What followed is probably best described as all hell breaking loose. The death toll has only gone up. More and more photos and videos of violence carried out by all sides in every university quarter spread like wildfire online.
One particular video of people falling off buildings -- as it appeared to be the better alternative than being beaten on the roof -- was particularly horrifying. Talk of the opposition party’s Chhatra Dal taking advantage of this opportune moment was passed around. The prime minister made a futile attempt at talking calm into the situation. All the while, a nationwide shutdown was issued.
The day the nation shut down
Even after all that, I’m not sure anyone was prepared for the chaos on July 18. As I went out for a quick grocery run, I was met by a squadron of police marching down the inner streets of Dhanmondi. With them, a big, white, scary tank-like vehicle. In an attempt to share the scenes with my friends, I realized that the mobile internet was down. Turns out the authorities admitted to mandating as such, apparently in order to limit communication between rioters.
But with broadband and Wi-fi still connected, all the phones kept buzzing. There were videos of a police officer admitting to being given orders to shoot anyone on the streets; a captive Chhatra League member being interrogated and having inflammatory information extorted out of him; rumours of the police website being hacked; hate speech and threats flung all over social media; even a video of news reporters apparently asking the police to shoot in order to capture photos was leaked.
All of this was flooded in between constant footage of violence going viral. There was a RAB car running over protesters and then being destroyed by them. Heartbreaking scenes from Brac University were being released at swift intervals, from police shooting bullets and teargas through the gates to bringing in choppers.
With so much happening so suddenly, it was impossible to keep track and verify them all. The situation had escalated to a point where the information or misinformation could no longer be contained. Conveniently (for some), the entire country’s internet soon dropped. Poof. Just gone -- with no signs of coming back, even now.
After that, the only reality I could be certain of was the sound of gun-blasts and sirens in the ever-so-near distance and the knowledge that there have been several students who have met their untimely deaths over such poor management of the situation.
Grasping at straws for control
With my family now glued to the TV all day like it’s the early 2000s -- given it’s our only source of information -- we saw reports of the authorities blaming the internet outage on terrorists having set fire to the national data centre. Then we also saw reports that ISP companies claimed they were ordered to shut down the gateways. Subsequently, even the TV line dropped for over an hour or so. When it returned, they played it off and went straight back to the regular program of rioters and police clashing, or of smoke from buildings and streets.
Keeping people in the dark garners no support and will only rile people up more. Transparency and access to information is fundamental to maintaining people’s trust. It’s something we proudly claim to have made great strides in when speaking of our development journey. The state cannot afford such a slip up domestically or internationally.
Yet, somehow, allowing a single strike on a data centre to knock-out the entire country’s internet and not managing to return it to normal might look worse in terms of how incompetent it sounds.
Even as I write this, the repeated sound of live gun-blasts echo into my room. I am left only to imagine what the cause and results of the commotion outside is. Now after all this bloodshed, they finally hope to reach an agreement.
This was such a simple matter that just needed some level-headed discussion and some compromise.
But such mishandling of the situation, allowing it to erupt into what it is, and the excessive force demonstrated by the law only points to one thing: This all could and should have been avoided.
Tasawar Sattar is an Editorial Assistant at Dhaka Tribune.
This opinion piece was first published in the print edition of Dhaka Tribune on July 20, 2024.
