One can choose to remain silent or be vocal on any issue. But intellectuals owe it to society to do more, much more. They are supposed to express their opinions on important national issues. Hence, the silence of intellectuals is often questioned everywhere in the world.
An “intellectual quiet” does not necessarily mean that they are endorsing the state’s actions. Many intellectuals, even when they consider something is wrong, cannot muster the courage to utter words against the wrong. Not out of fear of death or being jailed -- but, merely, due to a fear of being disowned by the party. A fear of missing out on an opportunity to prosper personally.
We would find similar examples in the US in the 1960s when intellectuals were scorned for raising their voices in support of the public interest, many intellectuals had remained firm.
I know of a professor in East Bengal who had resigned from the University of Rajshahi to write a book on communalism during the 1960s, but such instances are rare.
We know a society is healthy and well when its intellectuals freely express their opinions. The intellectuals are quick to express their views -- in favour or against government actions, and the state is obliged to tolerate their views.
The intellectuals would need to flaunt less courage when institutions such as universities, the Election Commission, or the judiciary, are strong. Then, it becomes very difficult to persecute intellectuals for their views.
Then, not only the intellectuals, but also the citizens would be encouraged to fulfill their duties and to demand their rights when freedom of expression is prevalent in society.
However, the situation in Bangladesh is different.
Even considering the communal violence in our country and heinous acts of violence in India, we would find that in, spite of persecution, there needs to be a vibrant and independent presence of an intellectual class.
The struggle is real because, along with the destruction of our public institutions, we have suffered a terrible set back. And in the words of poet Kazi Nazrul Islam: Often, most amongst the educated remain “mute” intellectuals.
I would like to state three brief examples from the last decade to support my view regarding the silence of our intellectuals.
We know a society is healthy and well when its intellectuals freely express their opinions
When we were protesting against the 15th amendment to the Constitution, we had invited a former chief justice who was also active in the struggle to protect national resources.
This honest and good man was in agreement with our cause, but he refused to give a public speech in support of us.
He insisted that it is enough for his support to have been materialised in a signed statement; and did not want to put in more effort to the issue.
He believed that he had fulfilled his duties through issuing statements and other activities, but that could be the extent of the support, as he did not want to stir the government.
I heard the second example from a friend who is a journalist. My friend had approached a young and famous award-winning writer requesting to put down a few words in support of the national committee that had called a strike to protest against leasing-out our seas.
The writer’s simple response had been: “I am merely involved in literature, what do I understand about oil and gas?”
This lack of understanding and engagement does not bode well for our country. The vacuum created by the unwillingness of these remarkable people to get involved in social matters is partly seized by the religious extremists.
The third example is also about something similar. Do you recall that Khaleda Zia negotiated a deal to export gas from the Bibiyana river to India?
The national committee had called its first long march against it, and a popular writer wrote an exceptionally good piece called “The long shadow of the long march” in solidarity with the protest.
Even today, when I think of that piece, I remember a series of processions extending to the horizon over the lost river called Bibiyana.
We have had a change of government, but the looting of our national minerals continues. Writers, poets, and artists who have sold out need no mention, and we no longer have expectations from them.
Few intellectuals have been able to live up to their promise. Therefore, traditional intellectual practices at large have been discontinued, and this has a huge impact on our lives.
In the absence of camaraderie among intellectuals, stating ordinary truth and obvious facts is considered an act of bravado.
How long will this situation continue?
Perhaps our new intellectuals are being created through this process. Maybe we are yet to recognise them. Or, perhaps, new intellectuals would be borne out of the necessity, to serve the need of time -- from within and outside of the institutions -- when the institutions erode, suppressed by power and corruption.
Firoz Ahmed is a member of Ganasamhati Andolon.
