|
The Fall of Dhaka was sudden
and abrupt. As late as December 15th 1971,
my pro-Pakistan friends kept saying that the Seventh Fleet of
the US Navy was on its way and as soon as it reaches the
Indian Ocean, India and it’s ally Russia would back down.
Their claim about China’s intervention to provide air
support to Pakistani troops, without which they had become
sitting ducks, made more sense. China had already fought a
war with India and was considered a more reliable
friend of Pakistan. But neither the Americans nor the Chinese
showed up. The Indians and the Russians did!
On the morning of December 16th,
1971 around 8 a.m, I heard a rumor that General Arora of the
Indian Armed Forces was coming to Dhaka to accept the
surrender of General Niazi. By 10 a. m this rumor became the
news.
Millat, my bridge partner, who was a co-coordinator of
the freedom fighter’s movement in Bangladesh, confirmed that
a General of the Indian Army was at that very moment having
a meeting with his Pakistani counter-part at Savar, just
outside Dhaka, to discuss the terms and conditions of the
ensuing surrender.
An hour later, I came to know that the
draft agreement was approved by Pakistan and the formalities
of the surrender would take place at Ramna Racecourse in
late afternoon.
It actually took place at 5 p.m after
General Arora arrived from Calcutta by helicopter.
Pro-Bangladesh Bengalis started celebrating and the
Pro-Pakistan Bengalis and non-Bengalis started panicking. By
noon, one could see Pakistani soldiers heading towards the
Ramna Race Course. Then I noticed some flags being hoisted
on roof tops. It was a green flag with a red circle on
it. Someone explained to me that the green background
symbolized the greenery and the red disc represented the
rising sun and the sacrifices we made to gain the
independence.
I was on my way to Shantinagar from Tipu
Sultan Road, when I saw near the Christian graveyard, three
Bengalis with guns chasing four Bengalis and two non
Bengalis. The crowd was running behind them. Mukti Bahinis,
were chasing the Razakars, to kill them. The crowd was
shouting “Joy Bangla, Joy Bangla” and gun shots or blank
fire in the air could be seen and heard. I could not feel
any joy or excitement. I was relieved, yes, because the
liberation war was coming to an end without millions more
having to pay the price for it. But I abhorred this revenge
part. Why not arrest and hand the suspects over to the
authorities and let the court decide? Many Bengalis like me
had similar mixed feelings of relief and sorrow. But for
those, whose loved ones could only return to their homeland
after the departure of the Pakistani troops or those whose
daughters, mothers and sisters were raped by the Pakistani
Militia and Army, this was a day of rejoice and revenge.
They could not touch the defeated Pakistani Army, who had
surrendered to the victorious Indian Army and were therefore
under their protection. So they went after the civilians and
the paramilitary forces – those who had openly supported
Pakistan and were called Razakars.
For the “Biharis” and “Razakars”,
it was doomsday. Bihari was the term used for all
non-Bengalis and Razakars were paramilitary forces who had
volunteered their services to the Pakistan Army, who
utilized them as “ Mujahideens to kill the Kafirs” by giving
them Islamic names like Al-Badr and Al-Shams and misleading
them into believing that East Pakistanis were no longer
Muslims. Razakars could be a Bihari or even a Bengali. Many
of them were hunted and killed by the people who recognized
them, supported by the Mukti Bahinis with guns and pistols .
Every Bengali became a Freedom Fighter and all the
non-Bengalis became Razakars. Those Bengali civilians, even
politicians who cooperated with the Pakistan
government, were termed as traitors and treated as such.
There were many Bengalis, from other political parties like
Muslim League and Jamaat-e- Islami, who did not agree with
Awami League mandate of autonomy. Nor did they wish the
break up of Pakistan. Some of them even cooperated with the
Martial Law government to buy time and to convince the
military rulers that what they were doing was not right.
Maulvi Fariduddin was one of them. He was a God fearing
Muslim and a genuine Bengali. He had been a Member of the
National Assembly too. Fariduddin was mercilessly beaten to
death. There were many others like him who did what they
thought were right and it turned out to be a wrong decision
that cost them their lives.
Even Mohammad Idris, who started
shooting at the Mukti Bahinis because they had broken up
Pakistan, was not a bad person. He was more patriotic than
many in West Pakistan and simply could not stand the sight
of its army’s surrender. He decided to go down fighting for
the country he loved most. It is a pity that Pakistan does
not appreciate this sense of patriotism and is still making
excuses about bringing the “Biharis” back home. Almost all
the non-Bengalis were treated badly after the fall of Dhaka
with the exception of the members of Aga Khan community, who
had behaved very sensibly by not acting like Maulvi
Fariduddin or Mohammad Idris. From the beginning, they
followed the command of their leader Aga Khan, to mingle
with the local people, respect them and learn their
language.
December 16, 1971 was a day
of “ Saneha”, “Doorghotona” or "Tragedy" for the Muslims of
the Indo-Pak subcontinent including a large percentage of
Bengali Muslims in East Pakistan, who considered that Yahya
Khan’s reluctance to convene the National Assembly was very
unfair and his agreement with Bhutto to keep Sheikh Mujibur
Rahman from becoming the Prime Minister of Pakistan was a
conspiracy. But all of them were not Awami Leaguers and most
of them believed that people charged in the Agartala
conspiracy case, if found guilty, should be punished. They
did not support the break up of Pakistan. They remembered
well, the bad treatment their fathers and grand fathers had
received from the Hindu Zamindars before the partition of
India in 1947 and felt relieved to find Pakistan as their
new homeland. Therefore at the beginning only Awami League
and its staunch supporters wanted a separation while the
majority wanted that the power should be handed over to the
person who had won the election.
Sheikh Mujib controlled the majority
seat in the National Assembly. Out of 300 National Assembly
seats, Awami League had won 167 and Wali Khan had offered to
join him with his 30 seats, yet Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto wanted
to be the Prime Minister of Pakistan with his only 97 seats. Yahya Khan supported him because he was promised to be made
the President. The parties failed to agree on anything or
were failed to decided on a solution and Martial Law was declared.
Failing to
beat the Bengalis into submission, they
resorted to committing the greatest genocide in recent history.
This atrocious behavior of Pakistani politicians and army
generals alienated all the Bengalis of East Pakistan and
infuriated many, resulting in the War of Liberation
on March 26 itself. At the behest of a Chittagong industrialist Mr. A. K. Khan and on behalf of Sheikh Mujibur
Rahman, General Zia declared the independence of Bangladesh
from Chittagong radio station.
Slowly but steadily,
more and more East Pakistanis realized that independence
from the clutches of the rulers of West Pakistan was the
only way left for them. Their children started going away to
India to join the liberation war and they continued to
suffer in the hands of what was now the “Occupation Army”. They sought India’s help, who was anxiously waiting to
provide them. This was their chance to retaliate against
Pakistan that was calling their part of the Kashmir as “
Occupied Territory” and fought two wars with them over this
issue.
India declared that “Pakistan was occupying its
Eastern Wing against the will of its people and forcing them
to seek shelter across the border”. They intervened with the
backing of Russia and the result was the creation of
the People’s Republic of
Bangladesh - even better than the autonomous East Pakistan
that Sheikh Mujibur Rahman had initially demanded. A look at
Dhaka alone will testify that it turned out to be a great
boon in disguise and the reward fully justified the demand
for it.
A new generation of Bengali
industrialists, entrepreneurs, bureaucrats and diplomats
cropped up overnight and started building the city skyward.
A look at the Dhaka high-rises puts Calcutta (Kolkata now) to shame.
In
the villages too, thanks to NGOs like BRAC and Grameen,
people are in sync with the progress that the country has
made in the past 35 years. More educated, better skilled and
less poor, they certainly look happier than they ever were
in the colonial days of British and then with Pakistan. Yet
I sometimes feel that we should have retained the name of
Pakistan and Mr. Bhutto, if he so desired, could have walked
away with his Sindh province and found a name for his new
country. Just kidding!
But it is a fact that in 1970, there
were more Bengalis in united Pakistan than there were Punjabis or Sindhis or Pathans combined. It was
the Muslims of East Bengal who had wholeheartedly supported
the Lahore Resolution of 1906 that the Sher-e-Bangla A. K.
Fazlul Huq moved and Quaid-e-Azam Mohammad Ali Jinnah
mooted - making the demand for the division of India on the
basis of religion. Even though Maulana Abul Kalam Azad, as a
Muslim leader and the President of the Indian Congress
Party had appealed to the 120 million Indian Muslims to
stay back, over 60 millions of them left their home and
hearth to migrate to Pakistan. Mostly to West Pakistan and
some to East Pakistan - from the neighboring states of Bihar,
West Bengal, Orissa and even Uttar Pradesh and Madhya Pradesh. For them,
it would have been Love’s Labor Lost.
My parents migrated from West
Bengal to East Bengal, which became East Pakistan. But my
grandmother did not. She remained in Calcutta (now Kolkata) and even
advised her only son to stay behind. He did not listen to
his mother and eventually had to pay a price. My parents
admired Mr. Jinnah so much that when he declared that “Urdu
and Urdu alone will be the state language of Pakistan", they
admitted us to an Urdu medium school. But we continued
learning and speaking Bengali because that was our mother
tongue and she did not know any Urdu. Nor did any of our
maternal aunts and uncle know Urdu. After the independence of
Bangladesh, we quickly reverted back to Bangla Bhasha. Who
wants to be a second class citizen? That is what the
non-Bengalis had suddenly become.
After Bangladesh was created and after the 90,000 troops of the Pakistan Army
and some civilians who surrendered to the Indian Army were
taken to India and after President Yahya Khan resigned
and Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto became the Prime Minister of “what
was left of Pakistan”, Sheikh Mujib-ur-Rahman was released
from the Pakistani jail and sent to London. There he gave
the statement (in English) that he was against the creation
of Pakistan. Bhutto was vindicated. It restored his
credibility having said that Mujib wanted independence. It
seemed to me Bongo Bondhu (Sheikh Mujib) was
out smarted or was it a condition of his release?
Sheikh Mujibur Rahman returned
to Dhaka on January 10, 1972. A proclamation of
Independence, adopted and formally announced by the
Bangladesh Government in Exile on April 17, 1971 had
declared that Sheikh Mujibur Rahman was the President of The
People’s Republic of Bangladesh, Tajuddin Ahmed the Prime
Minister and Nazrul Islam, the Vice President. Nazrul Islam
had signed it
as the Acting President in the absence of President Sheikh Mujibur Rahman who was locked up in a Pakistani jail. Some
say that it was only after he reached London that he was
told that Pakistan had lost the war and Bangladesh had won
the war of liberation. I do not buy this simply because I
cannot believe that Mr Bhutto would unconditionally release
the “ Big Fish” without laying any fresh bait. It
sounds fishy.
I was there at the Tejgaon
airport when Sheikh Mujibur Rahman returned to a hero’s
welcome. M illions of his countrymen came from far flung
areas and villages to catch a glimpse of their
Bongo Bondhu. Advocate Kamal Hossain was with him. It was rumored that because of his affinity to Urdu, he
had betrayed the champion of the Bengali Language Movement,
Sheikh Mujibur Rahman. First thing that Sheikh Shaheb did
was to introduce Kamal Hossain as his friend in need who ,
he said “was a loyal friend indeed. He called him a proud
citizen of Bangladesh just like him. I personally was
impressed and liked the gesture and felt encouraged that
with his arrival the riot among Bengalis and ‘Biharis” would
stop and this racial problem of Bengalis seeking revenge
against the “Biharis” would come to an end.
I also hoped that like Kamraj
of the Indian Congress, he would resign from the office of
the President and continue as the Party Chief of the Awami
League allowing Mr Tajuddin to run the government under
his guardianship, supervision if necessary. Something that
Sonia Gandhi is doing now. I was disappointed on both
counts. He did resign from the post of the President but
only to become the Prime Minister of Bangladesh. Mr.
Tajuddin was sent a prepared resignation letter to sign on,
which he did, and Sheikh Mujibur Rahman became the Prime
Minister of Bangladesh that very day. Justice Sayeed Chowdhury was sworn
in as the figure head President which Mujib refused to be.
He then introduced the one party system BAKSAL, which he called the 2nd.
Revolution.
Mujib now made new enemies.
He changed the constitution and once again became the
President of Bangladesh on January 24, 1975. Sheikh Mujibur was the
Father of the Nation and the most beloved and
respected person in Bangladesh at the time of its
independence. He could have been the King Maker for the rest of his
life, but he decided to become the king himself and ended up
losing his life.
With the deportation of the
Pakistani Army and Militia and the disappearance of Razakars
- the paramilitary voluntary force of the Pakistan Army,
people in the streets once again started rejoicing. Army
remained the main topic and all kinds of jokes and slogans
surfaced about them. Some real and some made up. Some were
even taken from Moin Akhtar shows. For instance, there was
this story about an Army Major and his wife being stopped at
the gates of Dhaka Inter-Continental Hotel by a Pathan
Sentry. The guard asked the Major to show his Denty (
identity) card. He said that he was Major so and so and this
was his wife and they were going inside the hotel to watch a
cultural show. “Denty cards?" the sentry insisted. “ I have left it at home”
the
Major replied. He was getting annoyed and felt insulted by
being questioned like this in front of his wife. Without
blinking an eyelid and looking at the wife, the Pathan
pondered aloud “ What is this? The thing that he should have
left at home, he brought along and the thing that he should
have brought with him, he left that at home ?”
Similarly there was this joke
about two soldiers walking inside the Thetari Bazaar with an
intention to bully the hawkers who were selling chickens.
They asked the first one:
“ What do you feed your
chicken? “ He said that I feed them “gaum” Which means
wheat. With a kick at his butt, he was admonished with these
words: "We send wheat from West
Pakistan to feed the men and women and you feed it to hens
and cocks ?”
When the next hawker was asked
the same question, he said that he was feeding them Chawool”
(Rice ) He too received a kick and was sternly told “There
is no rice to feed the people and you are feeding it to the
birds? ”
The 3rd.hawker was a Dhakayeah Kutti, a
native of Dhaka, well known for their wit and humor. When
asked, what he fed his chickens, he said : “ I do nothing of
the sort. “ Early in the morning, every day, I give a
“Shikki” ( a Quarter or 25 paisa ) to each of my birds and
they buy and eat whatever they fancy” “You do the right
thing.” The soldiers remarked and went away. These jokes may
or may not have been made up by the people who had suffered
from the indignity and humiliation of rude behavior of its
own army that they once loved and respected.
But this is what I know to be
a fact. One day I met a staff of my friend Somji who was my competitor in jute
business but always helped me out when I got stuck with the
pricing of hessien and sacking. He was a gem of a person. I
noticed an expensive Omega watch in Aslam’s wrist and asked
when did he get it. He said "yesterday while I was riding my
bike in front of Gulistan cinema, one Swati Militia stopped
me and asked for my citizen watch. I had to give it to him.
He tied it on his wrist, next to three other watches that he
was already wearing. I complained “Khan Saheb, you already
have three other watches and you decided to take away my one
and only watch? The man said “You do not have any other
watch” I said “ No” So he took out the first watch
that he had on his wrist and gave it to me. "This is it. Not
a bad exchange” Aslam smiled.
I laughed, thinking about one day when a Militia was frantically looking for a
building. He went around asking :“Sona Ka Bangla Kahan Hai
?” Perhaps someone had half understood the Rabindra Nath
Tagore song “ Amar Shonar Bangla, Ami Tomai Bhalo Bashi”
(This is our National Anthem now.) and told him that in
Dhaka, they have Bungalows that are made of gold.
Mercifully, those army Jawans and Militia kids, who were
made to believe the infidelity story of the Bengalis and
fairy tales of the Bangla Desh, were now sitting in Indian
prison camps near Agra and the slogan in the streets of
Dhaka was: "Merein tou Shaheed, Marain
tou Ghazi aur Surrender Karey to Niazi”. Meaning that if you get
killed, you are Shaheed, if you kill, you are Ghazi but if
you surrender, you are Niazi”
This was a way of making fun of the
Pakistan Army who had declared Bengalis as Kafirs and used
Islamic terms like Al-Badr and Al-Shams to subdue them and
yet had surrendered in such a large number to Indian army,
whose Commander-in-Chief Field Marshall Manikshaw had simply
outfoxed them. His larger army by-passed the entrenched
forces of the Pakistan army at the various cantonments of
East Pakistan and reached Dhaka without facing much
resistance. Perhaps never before, in the history of Islam,
more than 90, 000 Muslims had surrendered to a Hindu force,
no matter how big. But again, never before a Muslim army had
committed an act of genocide against its own Muslim
countrymen.
Cheers and jeers apart, after
downfall of Dhaka on December 16th 1971, I
personally got very worried about my school friends, who
were Urdu speaking and living in district towns of Khulna
and Mymensingh. Most of them had already left for Karachi or
London but one of my childhood friend Matiullah Khan was
from Bihar and he was caught up in Khulna. He was working as
an Assistant to my brother-in-law, who was the Chief
Engineer at the Crescent Jute Mills, in Khalispur, Khulna.
When army cracked down on the night of March 25, 1971, my
brother-in-law had to run away to his home town in Noakhali
and he resigned from his job. Matiullah was given the charge
by the army to run the workshop and now the army had gone. I
knew that he would be in trouble. So I started calling and
could not trace him. The Security Officer of the Mill said that he was not there but he was last seen at the
Sports Club of the Residential Quarters by the side of the
river. I decided to go to Khalishpur with another
friend Majeed who was more fluent in Bengali. Majeed was
nearly killed by a Bengali Razakar but managed to save his
life by speaking in Urdu to a Punjabi soldier. He was also a
very good singer and often sang Rabindra Sangeet for us. So
we flew to Jessore and went by bus to Khalishpur. There
someone told us that all the Biharis were either killed or
arrested. Those living were placed in a camp under the
protection of the Indian Army from Bihar. We went and found Matiullah. He was still dazed by the killings he had
witnessed, while sitting at the Officer’s Club. Killing of
Bihari men, women and children took place with swords and knives across
the river at the ghat of Star Jute Mill. Majid and I were
ashamed to hear his sad story but at the same time we felt
proud that we had risked our own lives to save Matiullah’s. We brought him back to Dhaka. He is now living
in Karachi. I was also lucky to be able to safely see off
another Bihari friend and his family and my wife’s Punjabi
friend and her family at the Dhaka airport after the 30th
of December. But I could not save the life of another good
friend Riaz, who played cricket with us. An amiable and
harmless person, who copied Khan Mohammad while bowling, was
a manager of the United Bank in Mymensingh. I heard later
that he was put in jail for ten days, then killed.
I had always wanted to drive
to Calcutta and then drive up to Delhi through the Grand
Trunk road that was originally built by Sher Shah Suri. I
got the necessary permission from the Government of
Bangladesh and convinced my wife to come along. I also
invited my brother Naim and my nephew Yusuf to join us.
Depending on who you are, you can call it an adventure or a
stupid act. The treacherous road to Calcutta from Dhaka
via Aricha, Kushtia and Jessore had land mines laid out by
the Mukhti Bahini for the Pakistan Army and by the Pakistani
Forces for the Indian invaders. We had to get off from the
road at some places and drive through the Dhan-Khet or paddy
field. It took us 18 hours to reach Calcutta. Here I found
one of my “stay back” aunts sadly sitting in the dark
without even lighting a candle. I asked her if the power was
out. She said, “No, I just did not feel like switching on
the light, thinking that Pakistan has moved away from us. We felt so comfortable and
strong when Dhaka was a part of Pakistan”.
Next day, we were
treated like film stars wherever we parked our car.
Returning to our car after watching a Bengali movie, very
often we would find garlands at the windshield of the car
which had an East Pakistani number plate EBD 3. When told
that we were planning to drive up to Delhi, we were advised
even by strangers not to travel through Bihar at day time,
as they were very mad at the Bengalis for killing the Bihari
immigrants. We left in the evening. Before reaching Banaras, the clutch plate of our car got burnt and we had to leave
the car in a garage until we could purchase and bring back a
new clutch plate from Delhi.
Continuing our journey by
train, I had to face one of the most embarrassing moments of
my life. We were traveling Janata class and the compartment
was full. A punditji with a big mustache, made place for
all of us and then asked me if we were Muslims. After I said
yes, very politely he narrated the story of how, once when
he was traveling from Karachi to Lahore in First Class with
a First Class ticket, a few Pathan passengers entered the
compartment and asked him to sit on the floor because he was
a Hindu. Then he said, again very politely “You meat eater
Muslims have very little patience as compared to us
vegetarian Hindus. See, how nicely we made place for all of
you” Feeling embarrassed, all I could say was “We are
Bengalis, not Pathans”. Other than that, we received a
favorable treatment by the Indian Railway officials, who
thought that we were Freedom Fighters from Bangladesh.
Our
one page passport was mistaken to be a travel pass and more
than one booking clerk told us that we did not require
tickets because we were Mukti Bahinis. For fear of being
apprehended as Bihari refugees from Bangladesh, we were
careful not to speak in Urdu, even after reaching New Delhi.
The clutch parts we were looking for were not available there and on the return trip, the
boys had to get down in Banaras while we continued to
Calcutta. They arranged to bring the car back to Calcutta on
a truck and narrated this interesting story about the
Banarsi mechanic who opened the hood of the Volkswagen and
yelled, "This car has no engine” This is how unfamiliar the
Indians were of foreign cars in 1971.
Under pressure from Maulana
Bhashani and following his own election mandate, within
three months of assuming power, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman
nationalized major industries, trades and banks. The British
Delegation that had come to convince him to not nationalize
the jute trade at this critical juncture, was turned back
without the Prime Minister taking the time to even see them
and explain his point of view. When I was driving them back
to the airport, we saw Mujib addressing a
group of beggars with their list of demand. Bill Duncan, the
leader of the Jute Delegation remarked that “ Perhaps he
is not wasting his time. He must learn to beg because
business, he does not understand.” Obviously, he felt
insulted by Mujib’s refusal to meet the delegation that he
was leading. But during those same days, I was surprised and
rather annoyed to see a similar statement made by US
Secretary of State, Dr. Henry Kissinger. He had described
Bangladesh, as “a basket case.” Looking back, I now realize
that by saying that, Kissinger had in fact done a favor to
Bangladesh. Since its inception in 1971, Bangladesh has been
receiving aids and grants to the tune of nearly one billion
dollars annually. It still remains one of the poorest
countries and many of its loans are routinely written off.
In 1970-71, the Republican
Government of Richard Nixon had to take a pro-Pakistan stand
against India and Russia as far as the separation of the
Eastern Wing of Pakistan was concerned. But Nixon never
considered sending the Seventh Fleet to Indian Ocean in aid
of Pakistan. Something that the Pakistanis were so
desperately hoping for during its 1971 war with India. In
spite of all the NATO and SEATO pacts that the USA had signed
with Pakistan, it did not feel obliged to defend
Pakistan against India and Russia.
The genocide in East Pakistan
was no secret to the American public or its government. Even though at times the
Republican tried to look the other way and called this issue
an internal affair of Pakistan, there were people like
George Harrison of UK, who lent their ears and opened
the eyes of the Americans by holding concerts for Bangladesh
The refugees had spilled over
to India and India was smart enough to solicit the support
of Russia and the United Nations to send back the Muslim
Bengalis to Muslim Bangladesh. Nixon was no Bush. He fully
understood the consequences of going to war with India and
Russia away from home. He did not want to be responsible for
losing American lives for the sake of Pakistan retaining its
Eastern Wing. Yet, after the fall of East Pakistan, when it
appeared that India would continue with the annihilation
of Pakistan in the West, it was Nixon who warned India and
forced Indira Gandhi to declare a cease-fire. Otherwise
India was planning to overrun Lahore and perhaps even
Islamabad. I therefore think that Pakistanis should be
thankful to America for at least keeping a part of Quaid-e-Azam Mohammad Ali Jinnah’s dream alive. Just as
well. Today Pakistan is America’s biggest ally against Bin
Laden and Al-Qaeda. Could Nixon be so farsighted?
I left Bangladesh after the
nationalization of its jute trade and migrated to the United
States at
the end of 1972. I had come to USA for a visit with my
wife and child in July 1972 and leaving them here, I went
back to Dhaka a month later with the hope that jute trade
would not be nationalized and I would call them back. After
they nationalized banks, most trades and industries, I
tried to find a suitable job for myself in Bangladesh. But I was told
by a director of the jute board that I had my turn and
now it was their turn. So, instead of getting my family
back to Dhaka from USA, I decided to join them in Chicago and
then moved to Metropolitan Washington DC area.
After spending some time here,
I realized that Sheikh Mujib’s demand for autonomous East
Pakistan was not as outrageous as Pakistan made it out to
be. Over here, each state has that sort of autonomy, with
their own flag and even flower. As a matter of fact, Maulana
Abul Kalam Azad’s idea of United States of India was even
better. With no big budget for defense, United States of
India would be such a viable country today.
Of course it needed more
planning and a mutual understanding to treat the various
provinces justly and fairly like the agreement that the
original thirteen states of USA signed with each other. The
Constitution that the Founding Fathers of USA drafted, could
have served as a sample. But our Founding Fathers started
fighting with each other even before the British left and we
were not European immigrants like the Americans here are.
Bangladesh Minister for Jute,
Mr. M. R. Siddiqui, became the Bangladesh Ambassador to USA.
I knew him very well and often visited the Embassy near
Connecticut Avenue. Because of my fluency of the Urdu
language, a First Secretary at the Embassy once remarked
that since I speak such good Urdu, I could not possibly be a
Bengali. Narrow mindedness is a big handicap that we
Bengalis suffer from. Mainly because we do not want to learn
other languages. Urdu, Persian and English were the court
languages of the British Government in India that
broadened the minds of its intelligentsia.
In 1974, I read a story in the
front page of the Washington Post that went like this; “Two
young boys in their twenties were arrested and brought to a
police station in Dhaka, Bangladesh on suspicion of a
robbery and rape case. The Officer-in-Charge telephoned the
Police Commissioner, described the boys and asked “ What
should I do with them?” The Commissioner told him to hold
the line and called the Home Minister, describing the
situation and asking the same question. The Minister in turn
called the Prime Minister and informed him that two boys of
his sons’ age and description were arrested. What should be
done with them?
Sheikh Mujibur Rahman gave a
shout and asked Hasina’s mother: “Are Kamal and Jamal home?”
After being told that they were resting in their rooms, PM
told the Minister and the Minister told the Commissioner and
the commissioner told the OC to lock the boys in the cell
and file a charge against them.
The Washington Post reporter
remarked that while this story may have been fabricated to
illustrate a point, it is true that the situation in
Bangladesh is very much like this. The sons of the Prime
Minister are doing whatever they want and they are protected
by their parents.
Within a year of reading this story, one
morning in August, 1975 when I opened my front door and
grabbed the Washington Post lying on my door mat, I
was shocked to read the headline. It said something to the
effect: “SHIEKH MUJIB –UR –RAHMAN AND HIS 14 FAMILY MEMBERS SLAIN IN THEIR DHANMONDI HOUSE.
I took the newspaper to my mother-in-law who was visiting
us at that time. She started crying thinking of her
husband who was a friend of Mujib. How could a man
so popular, well loved and respected only three and a half
years ago, be now hated so much that his entire family would
be ruthlessly killed. It was the shortest span of time
during which love turned into hatred.
Footnote:
My Phoopi used to mention about an old lady she once saw
many years ago. Some time after Bangladesh came into
existence, she went to Makkah for Umrah. There she saw this
old lady, touching the cover of Kabbah and praying to Allah:
“ O’ Allah, whoever has been responsible for the death of my
family members, make them pay a price with their own death
and the death of their family members.”
As I sat back and reflected upon the old lady's prayer, I
recalled that both of Indira Gandhi's sons, Sanjay and Rajiv
Gandhi died violently. She herself met a violent death.
Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto got hanged - his eldest son Murtaza got
murdered and his youngest son Shahnawaz died of poisoning.
Sheikh Mujibur and all his family members except for Shaikh
Hasina were eliminated by his own army.
Were these people or any one of them responsible for the
death of the old lady's family? Had Allah punished them in
response to her call? Or is it just co-incidence?
May Allah guide us and our political leaders to the right
path and forgive us and our families for all of our sins. He
is Most Gracious, Most Merciful and oft-forgiving.
But I have not seen anywhere in the Holy Quran saying that
He is Always Forgiving!
|