When the internet was taken away completely for a second time at around 10:30 AM yesterday, I thought the worst was about to come. In my mind, I started crafting an article, with a very different tone.
Suffice to say, things changed. Rather quickly, and so did the nature of this opinion piece. A drastic change.
Opinions. Editorial stances and opinions. For the past six years that I have been employed here, they have been what I have worked with. And in those six years, the hundreds of editorials I have personally written, and the opinion pieces I have both crafted and edited, have been all about “balance.” When we have run opinion pieces and written editorials from this department, even over the past month or so, we have dutifully tried to achieve this “balance.”
On the one hand, I can understand it. The pages of a newspaper are not social media profiles. There is a certain responsibility that comes with it. To not be reactionary. To be objective and impartial. To have a certain “gravitas.”
Yet, sometimes, in attempting to strike that “balance” we have failed -- or rather have been compelled -- to shy away from saying what we want to say. What ought to be said. What the right thing was to say.
The balance we have sought to achieve has not always been because we have wanted to achieve balance. It has been because failure to do so could have had severe ramifications. If there was one lesson that was hammered by my seniors over this time, it was this. Balance.
This has been the reality for most of Bangladesh for as long as I can remember. Every single Bangladeshi has been perpetually afraid to speak, to voice frustrations, or merely have an opinion about dissatisfaction. Many who have been brave enough to do so have been silenced. Some, perpetually. With this knowledge, the people of this nation have been quiet, for the desire to express was surely not worth the risk of life. This is true for journalists as well. Most are not paid enough, or at all, to risk their lives and livelihood.
The balance we have sought to achieve has not always been because we have wanted to achieve balance. It has been because failure to do so could have had severe ramifications
The events of yesterday have yielded many reactions. A few have been disappointing, such as the nation devolving into chaos and vandalism and arson. Many have been eye-catching, such as people bursting into tears out of sheer joy. That there is jubilation and talk of becoming “free” amongst such a vast number of people is telling of just how the people have felt for all these years.
When a nation has been silenced for years on end, can I really fault the avalanche of emotions that we witnessed? This outpouring of emotion, of anger, of joy, of frustration, of relief - it is only expected. Bangladeshis are not exactly known for not expressing. We love to have an opinion.
For me personally, I have been humbled and corrected. I never had hope that what the students achieved was possible. I never had hope that the people of Bangladesh could achieve such unity again and face injustice in this manner. For that, all I can offer is my respect. It is an achievement that will rightfully go down in history.
Yet, as I too stood on the streets, my press card in my pocket, watching the people jubilant and chanting, being together, my mind wondered: Do we as a people finally have the opportunity to have an opinion without it being struck down? Is it possible for someone to now have an opinion without their lives being in danger?
And, selfishly, is it also possible, finally, for the media, for us, to not need to have balance out of necessity?
AHM Mustafizur Rahman is Joint Editor, Editorial and Op-Ed, Dhaka Tribune.
