October
5, 2012
When
I was around 12 years old, my father told me, “But no! A Cox’s Bazar trip cannot
be complete without a visit to Ramu”. And
thus, we embarked on a foot trip through the greenery of Ramu, to visit the most
awe-inspiring Buddha statue I have ever seen, my first visit to a Buddhist
monastery too! And I fell in love with the peaceful sight, right at first sight.
While, over the years, I have never gotten the chance to revisit my childhood
beauty, today, I feel empty, as someone has permanently erased a part of my
memory; a memory I cherished for so long. If this is how I feel, I wonder how
the locals feel, people who have grown up with it, and cherished it, sacredly,
everyday; except, they are perhaps more devastated by their ransacked and looted
houses and livelihoods right now. But who am I to ask such questions, after all,
I also belong to the monstrous majority clan. I should hide myself in disgrace
for what have been done to them by my Muslim brothers.
I
feel sad reading news piling one after another — attacks on Buddhists and Hindus
in Ramu, Patia, Ukhia… and I for the first time feel ashamed of being a
Bangladeshi. I feel extreme anger as I ask for the zillionth time since
September 11th, why do us Muslims need a constant reminder of the fact that,
“Islam is a religion of Peace?” – cause we don’t follow what we preach.
My
friend tells me, “The government will have to rebuild those temples, and even
more gloriously,” and I ask, “Who is going to bring back the hundreds of years
of heritage that we have lost in the process?” “Who is going to counsel the
child who watched her village burn in horror?” “Will these people ever live
peacefully and in harmony again?” It is beyond me, how people ever come to bring
themselves to do such destruction and harm, but then again, we live in a world
where, seeing is believing.
The
recent attack on Islam has given our fanatic Muslims in Bangladesh, yet another
excuse to pick on everyone and anyone who thinks differently. I remember how
extremists cut beards and hair of bauls in Rajbari a few months ago, as I still
wonder what happened to the Sufi followers from Kushtia who the Muslim mobs
attacked few weeks ago, and watch the silence regarding the issue among the
civil society. I wonder if we have forgotten that our country was once founded
through the bloodshed of millions, based on a secular constitution. Then again,
I wonder, does profanity justify destruction?
Why
are we so scared of speaking up against these atrocities today? Feeling too
religious? Too scared about what might happen to our “image”, “diplomatic” and
“trade” relations? Or are we hiding in seclusion cause we feel apathetic to all
these; cause we feel safe and sound at home? Fanatics today are not only
attacking our diverse religious sects, but also attacking at the heart of our
culture. Remember the Ramna Batamul bombing on Pahela Baishakh and at an Udichi
Shilpi Goshti programme? It could have been one of us there, dead that day! Or
maybe we might have fallen victim to one of the synchronized near to 500
bombings by fanatics in 2005?
Rise
up together in solidarity, against the extremist uprising trying to take over
our beloved Bangladesh today! And let our religion be “humanity”.
Hatred
does not cease by hatred, but only by love; this is the eternal rule – Gautama
Buddha.
———————-
Mehzabin
Ahmed is a development practitioner.
Prashanta Tripura
The minorities of our nightmares
OCTOBER
15, 2012 (Opinions)
Are you afraid to go to bed these days, out of fear that the forces of evil will
leap out of your nightmares to rampage through your neighbourhood while you are
asleep? If you have been following stories of recent
attacks on minorities – first in Rangamati on September 22, then in Ramu
starting at the late hours of September 29 – you would be. If you are not, you
ought to be, at least if you care about yourself, about your dreams. If you ever
dreamed of a democratic, peaceful and prosperous Bangladesh, then need I tell
you that what are under attack are not just the ethnic or religious minorities
in faraway places, but also your very dreams and ideals?
In
mid-August, in a note that I shared with my Facebook friends, I made a casual
remark that “for all the people who long for a democratic Bangladesh, it is
still a prolonged hour of nightmares.” The immediate context of our discussion
was surrealism in art and poetry. In that context, I was just trying to make the
point that for many of us who grew up in the CHT, and for ethnic minorities
generally, living in Bangladesh has been something of a surreal existence, more
precisely like living through nightmares. As I skim through news reports over
the attacks on Buddhist communities and temples in Ramu (and subsequent attacks,
some targeting Hindus as well, in other parts of Chittagong), my eyes are drawn
to a headline “A night of joy turns to nightmare” in a local English daily,
carrying the story of a community that was preparing to celebrate a Buddhist
festival the next day, only to see their plans and preparations give way to a
sleepless night, when they had to watch homes and temples burn to ashes.
As
news of the attacks in Ramu spread, strong condemnations have been voiced
throughout the country, and government officials and media personnel rushed to
the spot. Unfortunately, some news headlines indicate that the blame game or
witch hunting also started in no time. The politicization of criminal activities
can only mean allowing the real culprits to get away, if not encouraging them to
carry on their acts. Therefore, it is perhaps not a surprise that after Ramu,
similar attacks were reported to have taken place yesterday in other parts of
Chittagong. Why is it that the law enforcing agencies always seem late in
responding to situations like this?
This
question came up last week as well, in the context of attacks in Rangamati
carried out by rioters that remain to be identified officially. Nonetheless,
it was interesting that the outbreak of violence in Rangamati was instantly
reported as a “clash between Paharis (hill people) and Bengalis”. I wrote a
short piece, published in a Bangla daily, in which I questioned this tendency. I
raised a simple question: Of the entire population of Rangamati, say 60,000
people altogether comprising of various ethnicities, how many did really take
part in, or condone, the attacks that were described as inter-ethnic clashes?
60? 600? 6000? Whatever may be the actual figure, it could not possibly
constitute more than a small fraction of the total population. Given this, why
was it that we allowed a minority (i.e. the real perpetrators of violence)
colour the views of the rest? Why were we quick to describe the unfolding
development as “clashes between indigenous hill people and Bengalis (or Bengali
settlers, as specifically mentioned in some English dailies)”? My point was that
such characterizations and perceptions mainly help the real perpetrators hide
behind nameless, faceless mobs. Moreover, they also turn our attention away from
the systemic roots of violence, namely state policies and laws that are
discriminatory towards ethnic and religious minorities.
Are you afraid to go to bed these days, out of fear that the forces of evil will
leap out of your nightmares to rampage through your neighbourhood while you are
asleep? If you have been following stories of recent
attacks on minorities – first in Rangamati on September 22, then in Ramu
starting at the late hours of September 29 – you would be. If you are not, you
ought to be, at least if you care about yourself, about your dreams. If you ever
dreamed of a democratic, peaceful and prosperous Bangladesh, then need I tell
you that what are under attack are not just the ethnic or religious minorities
in faraway places, but also your very dreams and ideals?
In
mid-August, in a note that I shared with my Facebook friends, I made a casual
remark that “for all the people who long for a democratic Bangladesh, it is
still a prolonged hour of nightmares.” The immediate context of our discussion
was surrealism in art and poetry. In that context, I was just trying to make the
point that for many of us who grew up in the CHT, and for ethnic minorities
generally, living in Bangladesh has been something of a surreal existence, more
precisely like living through nightmares. As I skim through news reports over
the attacks on Buddhist communities and temples in Ramu (and subsequent attacks,
some targeting Hindus as well, in other parts of Chittagong), my eyes are drawn
to a headline “A night of joy turns to nightmare” in a local English daily,
carrying the story of a community that was preparing to celebrate a Buddhist
festival the next day, only to see their plans and preparations give way to a
sleepless night, when they had to watch homes and temples burn to ashes.
As
news of the attacks in Ramu spread, strong condemnations have been voiced
throughout the country, and government officials and media personnel rushed to
the spot. Unfortunately, some news headlines indicate that the blame game or
witch hunting also started in no time. The politicization of criminal activities
can only mean allowing the real culprits to get away, if not encouraging them to
carry on their acts. Therefore, it is perhaps not a surprise that after Ramu,
similar attacks were reported to have taken place yesterday in other parts of
Chittagong. Why is it that the law enforcing agencies always seem late in
responding to situations like this?
This
question came up last week as well, in the context of attacks in Rangamati
carried out by rioters that remain to be identified officially. Nonetheless,
it was interesting that the outbreak of violence in Rangamati was instantly
reported as a “clash between Paharis (hill people) and Bengalis”. I wrote a
short piece, published in a Bangla daily, in which I questioned this tendency. I
raised a simple question: Of the entire population of Rangamati, say 60,000
people altogether comprising of various ethnicities, how many did really take
part in, or condone, the attacks that were described as inter-ethnic clashes?
60? 600? 6000? Whatever may be the actual figure, it could not possibly
constitute more than a small fraction of the total population. Given this, why
was it that we allowed a minority (i.e. the real perpetrators of violence)
colour the views of the rest? Why were we quick to describe the unfolding
development as “clashes between indigenous hill people and Bengalis (or Bengali
settlers, as specifically mentioned in some English dailies)”? My point was that
such characterizations and perceptions mainly help the real perpetrators hide
behind nameless, faceless mobs. Moreover, they also turn our attention away from
the systemic roots of violence, namely state policies and laws that are
discriminatory towards ethnic and religious minorities.
A Facebook friend of mine who lives in Ramu, provided a status update yesterday,
saying, “The religious and communal harmony that we the residents of Ramu have
always been proud of has been reduced to dusts in one night” (Translated from
original post in Bangla). Many commented on his status expressing shock and
anger at what had happened. More generally, through posts on the Facebook and
blogs, there was expression of a strong sense of disgust and outrage that most
people felt at the atrocities. “Shame!”, “Is this the Bangladesh that we dreamt
of?”, “Is it what people died for in 1971”? – These were some of the typical
reactions.
It
seems to me that the kinds of anguish and soul-searching that are represented by
the last two questions above are particularly strong among Bengalis (or
Bangladeshis) who see themselves as embodying the ideals of the War of
Liberation of 1971. What were these ideals? One was the idea of ‘communal
harmony’, which now lies shattered in places like Ramu. Government officials or
many political leaders and intellectuals in Bangladesh may not like to admit it
openly, but the sad truth is that communal harmony had been shattered on
numerous other occasions in this country in the past. The incidents like that in
Ramu by themselves do not necessarily indicate that the majority of people in
Bangladesh condone such acts. In fact, personally I am convinced that in a
statistical sense, the criminal elements of society targeting the ethnic or
religious minorities constitute minorities themselves. But the question remains,
how is it that people belonging to the latter category of ‘minorities’ can
dictate terms for the rest of us?
To
me, a big part of the answer to the above question lies in the Faustian pacts
that two generations of Bangladeshis made with undemocratic regimes in the ‘70s
and the ‘80s. We know how the euphoria of 1971 began to evaporate in the face of
enormous challenges that the new country faced. For the country as a whole, the
year 1975 marked the crystallization of deep fractures in the polity of a young
nation, fractures that in many ways remain unresolved to date. In fact, for the
ethnic minorities of the CHT, their alienation and marginalization began as
early as in 1972, when police and BDR operations purportedly conducted against
war time collaborators resulted into acts of brutalities, and the newly drafted
constitution also disregarded the existence of non-Bengali ethnicities. Even
though the concept of Bangladeshi nationalism was introduced after 1975, one
cannot say that this was done for the sake of ethnic minorities. Instead, it was
part of fundamental changes introduced in the constitution of the country,
involving increased manipulation of religious sentiments of the Muslim majority
as a clever ploy to legitimize powers grabbed illegally. Moreover, on the
ground, by the end of the 1970s, the whole CHT region had become heavily
militarized, with thousands of destitute households from the plains being
resettled in the hills in a manner that made it abundantly clear that the
Bangladeshi state did not really look at the ethnic minorities of the CHT as
trustworthy citizens of the country. Did people in the rest of Bangladesh know
much about what was going on in the CHT? I doubt it. Unlike today, there was
very little in the media about the CHT during 1975-1990 when the whole country
was under de facto military rule. But there is an even deeper question. Even if
there were people who knew about what was happening in the CHT, did they care,
or could they have done much about it? No, apparently not. Be that as it may,
the 1980s were a period when economic liberalization took roots in Bangladesh,
with active international support, and tolerance of rampant corruption at the
highest echelons of power. It was during this period that a new class of
entrepreneurs-politicians-bureaucrats consolidated their hold on power and
wealth, with very little regard for the ideals and principles of 1971, or the
older social values of tolerance and pluralism associated with rural Bengali
communities. If holding onto power meant declaring Islam to be the state
religion, and entering into alliance with political elements known to support
bigotry, so be it. This is what I meant by the Faustian pact.
The
forces that are invading the dreams and cherished ideals of most decent people
in Bangladesh may indeed constitute a minority. But they seem well organized,
and ready to pounce whenever the time is ripe, as have been shown on numerous
occasions. Moreover, they may enjoy the support of those who made pacts with the
devil. Such people too may be minority in numerical terms, but they have money
and power on their side. Are we ready to face these merchants of despair and
destruction who have leapt out of our nightmares?
——————————————–
OCTOBER
15, 2012 (Opinions)
The Ramu attack is a good
reminder that Bangladesh doesn’t have the minimum commitment to protect the
minorities. It was something far more than shameful as several hundred
mullahs, probably supported by the
Jamaat-e-Islami attacked Buddhist shrines and homes and vandalised those because
of an alleged anti-Islamic photo in the facebook. It is at these moments that it
becomes clear why Muslims are so unpopular in so many parts of the world. Few
have taken collective and social barbarism to such heights even as they claim to
be mistreated. If people want to practice such behaviour they should take
flights to the Arab lands and do what is natural to such people there.
Bangladesh is not for them.
* * *
Hundreds and thousands of
Muslims recently took to the streets protesting the anti-Islamic film which was
made in the USA and that has spewed violence in many parts of the world. In
Bangladesh too massive rallies have been held protesting the movie so
Bangladeshi ‘Muslims’ are clearly declaring which side they are on. Now that the
Buddhists’ holy places have been vandalized and property stolen, it would be
interesting to see how many Muslims here take to the streets to protest this
sacrilege. It is important because Muslims are forever claiming to be victims
but they are very silent when they commit the same barbaric acts on people of
other faiths. We were not particularly concerned about how Arabs behave but this
is Bangladesh in South Asia and we are committed constitutionally to protect
all. The Ramu attack has challenged that basic principle and that is why it is
so serious.
* * *
The Awami League response has
been to blame it all on the BNP and the Jamaat-e-Islami which is a fine lesson
on how to be and sound pathetic. It is the responsibility of the government to
make sure that nothing happens and it has happened during their watch. They have
such a wide network of spies and security agents so how come they never sensed
anything? Or is it true what some people are saying on the street that the AL
waited for the attack to happen so that they could blame the JI and the BNP to
collect electoral brownie points? It would seem that the Government’s trust
factor is substantially diminished and even the flow of benefit of doubt is
being obstacled.
That
the Government did know about the local MP who was anti-minority is absurd. It
was not possible to gather so many to attack specific targets without a pre-plan
but this seemed to have escaped the notice of the law enforcement agencies which
is remarkable. We know that the law enforcement agencies are ineffective unless
they are told to be so by the authorities so why they didn’t act is a mystery.
And this makes the government looks terribly suspicious.
* * *
As for the BNP, it exists
beyond shame. This is the party which allowed Jamaat-e-Islami to enter national
politics just for political gain and now has become a partner to gain power. It
shall be remembered as a party friendly to traitors and even now backing the
Jamaat it shows how little it cares about the constitutional and moral
obligations to the people. God alone knows from which bottomless pit of human
degradation it draws its principles from. It supports a party that is committed
to the denial of rights to all except their own kind of Muslims and bigotry and
racism is structured as a faith element. It is convenient politics but immoral
and vile as well and history shows such political constructs in the end
collapse. Meanwhile, the strongest condemnation for the political company they
keep and the cynicism they have displayed all along.
* * *
And so what of Jamaat-e-Islami?
We have always argued that they have no space in Bangladesh or its politics.
They have opposed the birth of Bangladesh so how can they be allowed to flourish
in the same land whose birth they tried to end? It defies all logic but once one
understands how Bangladesh functions, it becomes obvious. That doesn’t make the
matter acceptable. The case for banning Jamaat is always there but what is
required is the political will. If the AL can risk such a great deal of
political uncertainty by passing the 15th amendment, why can’t it risk almost
universal approval by denying Jamaat to be in Bangladesh?
* * *
After all the words are spent,
what remains behind is the shame. We have allowed this to happen again and
again. A fanatical, bigoted and backward people with a mindset of the 6th
century, we don’t deserve Bangladesh. We didn’t need a new version of old
Pakistan where more people die from internecine religious conflict than any
other and it is perpetually mired in a medieval world of its own.
Bangladesh
was to be the exact opposite but thanks to inefficiency, corruption, bigotry and
religious excess, we have failed to build a state we could be proud of. For us
there is only disgust.
On
behalf of all who accept what we have said, our sincerest and humblest apology
to the people who have suffered in particular and to all minorities in
general.
——————————
Comments
Above.
Iftekhar
Hossain on October 2, 2012 at 7:26 pm
রামুর আগুন
জ্বালিয়ে দিলে পুড়িয়ে দিলে
আগুন দিলে ঘরে
সেই বনহি ছড়িয়ে যাবে
তোমারই অন্তরে।
ঘর উঠবে,ফুল ফুটবে
আগুন হবে নাই
তুমি বন্ধু পুড়ে পুড়ে
নিজেই হবে ছাই।
-ইফতেখার হোসেন
২/১০/২০১২
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