It was like the climax of a film as huge crowds celebrated in the streets after hearing Sheikh Hasina had resigned and fled the country.
By their courage in resisting the brutal murder of dozens of unarmed protesters by AL supporters, the Anti-discrimination Students Movement has succeeded where the BNP and opposition political parties conspicuously failed. They brought about the fall of an all-powerful leader who accumulated more years as prime minister -- over 20 -- than anyone else in South Asia.
Writing from afar, both in age and distance, I can only marvel at the bravery of the students on a screen. Remember, the BNP tried every conceivable tactic, movement, and alliance over 15 years to unseat Hasina but could not.
It was the independent student-inspired uprising which brought an end to her rule. They did this by making the crowds their movement attracted far too large and too peaceful to shoot. It is the students, not politicians with nothing new to bring to the table, who should shape the nation’s future.
In 2018 in London, I interviewed Shahidul Alam, the globally renowned founder of Drik and activist, a few months before he was detained for over 100 days after criticizing the government's violent response to student-led road safety protests.
In the interview published in this paper while an international campaign fought for his release, I recall he answered the question “what keeps you going” by saying:
“Despite all the things that are wrong in my country, I see young people who still believe. I see young people who still have anger, I see young people who still have hope…”
The last few weeks are a vindication of his words and commitment to speak truth to power. Hope is in the air. Wordsworth’s poem on the French Revolution comes to mind: “Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive, But to be young was very heaven!”
But then I remember hearing this line quoted elsewhere, and my memory brings up sayings about revolutions “eating their young” and “turning full circle,” so euphoria evaporates.
“Don’t trust anyone over 30” is the phrase that sticks. A century of popular movements for freedom from colonialism, exploitation, injustice, and poverty are the ideals on which Bangladesh’s struggles for independence as a sovereign nation were built.
Corruption, disillusionment, and untruths are the constants its rulers, elected and otherwise, have delivered ever since. Across parties and institutions, leaders have excelled more in their ability to invent or distort facts and make excuses for their followers’ crimes, (“it was a false flag/ foreign power”) than in ensuring rule of law and building democratic institutions.
Absolute power corrupted completely enough to wither all of Sheikh Hasina’s political acumen and skills, removing any chance to resign with a semblance of dignity.
That innocent students paid with their lives for her hubris is an indelible stain and lesson for us all. Less than one month separates the initially routine start to the Beijing summit from Sheikh Hasina’s resignation and flight from Gono Bhaban.
An oft quoted line of dialogue from a novel by Ernest Hemmingway seems apt here:
“How did you go bankrupt?" Two ways. Gradually, then suddenly.”
So, what now if happy endings only happen in films?
It was easy to applaud when students and other volunteers stood up to protect Hindu temples and Christian churches from attack and to help direct traffic. It is much more difficult to accept how disgraceful it is they needed to do either in the first place.
I get what Dr Yunus might have meant when talking about this week as a “second liberation” -- a description of an atmosphere of celebration -- but can’t help thinking it was a poor choice of words, diminishing anything positive that has happened in the past five decades, including his own accomplishments.
It also fits into narratives that would diminish wrongs committed under other governments, when objectively they have all shared aspects of each other’s faults.
There is no golden age to which the country can revert, or where its polity was free of violence even if we excluded, (which we really should not), the tens of thousands killed and displaced during conflicts in CHT.
Looting and the vandalism of monuments related to independence as an expression of anger towards Sheikh Hasina is belatedly being lamented, but not before many had rejoiced in it online.
Objects and statues may be repaired but the attacks on and burning of Sheikh Mujib’s home and the Bangabandhu Memorial Museum in Dhanmondi 32 are disheartening given the part it played in independence and how carefully the family bedroom floor was preserved as it was the day Mujib was murdered in 1975. A self-respecting nation would seek to restore what can be salvaged.
As talk shows debate the interim government, the students should set out a roadmap of the reforms the country truly needs.
Dignity, equality, and justice in a land where politicians are held accountable for a start. My brain echoes with the refrain in Tracy Chapman’s song Talkin’ Bout a Revolution:
”Poor people gonna rise up/ And get their share…”
For all the changes and development Bangladesh the country has experienced, most of the nation’s people remain poor, and inequality is growing.
The moral (and economic) imperative remains the same -- to find practical ways to change. To become a land that invests in educating all its people to the highest standards, not just the children of the better off.
Where everyone can dream of a better life and freedom without needing to emigrate. Where women feel safe from harassment wherever they walk and travel. At whatever time of the day or night. And make up half of all MPs. Where there is no need to fear attacks on minorities and roads are safe for pedestrians.
Eyes need to be kept on the prize of meaningful and sustainable reform. Anything less is insufficient. The most important revolution to win, is the one in our minds.
Niaz Alam is London Bureau Chief, Dhaka Tribune.
