To uphold the truth is dangerous. This will be a fitting epitaph in the case of renowned Bengali journalist, Serajuddin Hussain killed in the thick of a massive campaign in 1971 to achieve provincial autonomy for his compatriots whom he left behind to live in independent Bangladesh.

I am afraid if I have the ability to evaluate a journalist-cum-writer of late Serajuddin Hussain's stature but there is no escape from it in view of repeated requests from his son who resides in the United States of America.

I was emotionally chocked. Tears welled into my eyes on receiving several letters in quick succession from his son, Saleem Reza Noor, to write how much I knew his father.

Though the pang of separation spans 24 years, I vividly remember slightly-built, self-possessed, suave, sensitive and highly dignified Serajuddin, occupying the news editor's desk in the reputed Bengali morninger, Ittefaq, in Dhaka.

I was told Serajuddin was abducted on December 10, 1971 and later killed by religious shenanigans and arch enemies of democracy. In this connection I cannot help mentioning another illustrious journalist and novelist Shaheedullah Qaiser who also met Serajuddin's fate. Both of my friends lost their lives at the height of their intellectual pursuit. Bangladesh is a living testimony of their historic struggle.

The journalists still remember the leading role Serajuddin played in journalistic as well as democratic and humanitarian movements.

Serajuddin, a man of few words, had sharp eyes. He had no blinkers. He did not differentiate between Muslims and Hindus, Bengalis and Beharis. He was always on the side of the disadvantaged humanity, opposing Hindu-Muslim communal riots, Bengali-Behari sectarian clashes and political persecutions. He was also a great champion of human rights.

In his capacity as President of the East Pakistan Union of Journalists (EPUJ) in 1964-65 and Vice-President of the Pakistan Federal Union of Journalists (PFUJ) in 1970-71, he strongly defended the rights of the working journalists and fought for the press freedom with equal zeal because he believed that freedom of the press constitutes outer defence of everybody's freedom.

Turning the clock back 30 years, journalists would recall get-togethers of the PFUJ leaders especially from the Eastern Wing of Pakistan at Mrs Davies Hotel in Rawalpindi. Though bulldosed about 15 years ago, Mrs Davies Hotel bears nostalgic memories, Serajuddin was, not doubt, a quiet type but his very presence at the PFUJ meetings was a source of great inspiration for the journalists because of his principled stand against anti-democratic forces.

If my memory serves me right, I flew to Dhaka from Islamabad in early March 1971 by a PIA plane which was packed with parliamentarians including Wali Khan amidst threats from Pakistan Peoples Party (PPP) chief, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, that those attending the National Assembly session in Dhaka will not return in one piece.

By then Serajuddin had a dual role. He was not only fighting against press censorship but also crusading for autonomy for his province, lovingly described by Bengalis as Sonar Bangla.

More than a week after my arrival in Dhaka in early March, I visited daily Ittefaq where I found Serajuddin in the news room besieged by a junk of newspaper files and a telephone glued to his ear. As he kept down the receiver and turned around, he found me standing behind. He literally jumped from his seat and embraced me warmly. After a quick exchange of pleasantries, he wished to accompany me to the Press Club.

Anti-government demonstrations were at their peak. The outcome was violence. I tagged along with Serajuddin right up to the Press Club, slogging through dirt roads, lanes, by-lanes and dismal side-ways. On the way we had to dodge bullets as anti-government ralies drew adequate shooting response from the troops. Serajuddin seemed disturbed at the deserted club as a result of several telephone calls from his office but he managed to give me company while I was having tea. This was hospitality par excellence.

I was fortunate enough to have the guidance of friends like Serajuddin. Working for a news agency, United Press International (UPI), in the face of tough competition from rivals, I found myself in the right place at the right time to watch from the ring-side seat in Dhaka, the battle Bengalis were confronted with in their bid to secure their due share in the Federal set up.

One mid-night I received a telephone call from Serajuddin at the residence of my younger brother, Aftab Hussain (a banker) at Nakhalpara, situated at a stones throw from the Assembly Hall. He advised me to book a room at Purbani Hotel. Similar was the advice from other journalist friends, K.G. Mustafa, A.B.M. Musa and Ata-us-Samad, because of close proximity to their dailies, Pakistan Observer and Morning News, with Purbani.

I was the only Pakistani journalist at Purbani where my arch rival Arnold Zeitlin, correspondent of the Associated Press of America (APA), had also taken a room. Except two of us no other news agency reporter was staying at Purbani, the headquarters of Mukti Bahini (Bengali freedom fighters) where Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, lovingly called Jatir Pita (father of the Nation), used to address his press conferences.

Serajuddin laughed from ear to ear, a rare feat, when I enquired if it was safe to stay at Purbani. He said. "Our advice is not wrong. This is to ensure your safety. This also indicates the amount of confidence we repose in you."

I was stunned when he disclosed about Sheikh Mujibur Rahman's suggestion to my Bengali friends to look after me.

Serajuddin knew that I used to telephone Sheikh Mujibur Rahman invariably from Dhaka telegraph office late at night to know whatever he could divulge about the latest developments on the political front.

Serajuddin never hesitated to give me a run-down on province-wide violence and armed clashes to enable me to storify the events.

Occasionally he would take me into confidence and drop hints on grisly parleys between President General Agha Mohammad Yahya Khan's power-drunk negotiators and Sheikh Mujibur Rahman. At this juncture I was convinced that PPP chief Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto, touting for General Yahya, was blocking Mujib's entry into the Prime Minister's office for obvious reasons. How correct was Serajuddin's prophecy: "everything that is not given is lost."

It would be difficult to find Serajuddin's peer. To know him one has to go through his book "Look Into The Mirror", described as a "gem in political literature". The book written about four years prior to his exit from this world justifies its title as it reflects the contemporary political scene, the excesses committed by Pakistan's armed forces to reverse the political verdict at the polls.

Greatness of Serajuddin lies in his stupendous efforts in correcting the distortions and suppression of historical facts. 'He exposed attempts by West Pakistani political charlatans to distort the Lahore Resolution which clearly enshrines autonomy for the regions and provinces destined to form part of Pakistan.

He laid bare the motives behind branding personalities like H.S. Suhrawardy and A.K. Fazlul Haq as traitors. These two leaders had the distinction of moving the Lahore Resolution which gave birth to Pakistan.

Serajuddin revealed the conspiracy behind seizure of Suhrawardy's membership of the first constituent Assembly of Pakistan.

The book also unmasks the design culminating in the dismissal of Fazlul Haq from the chief ministership of the then East Pakistan and his house internment because he demanded autonomy for his home province. This tragic episode was weaved around an interview which the correspondent of New York Times, Jack Callaghan, and Reuters stringer, Tony Mascarenhas, both being too close to Prime Minister Bogra Mohammad Ali, had with Fazlul Haq. Both correspondents reported that Fazlul Haq demanded independence for the Eastern Wing.

The interview was read out at a session of the Assembly in Karachi. Fazlul Haq had stoutly denied the charge, which according to him, was based on "falsehood". Prime Minister Bogra Mohammad Ali, wasted no time in imposing governor's a rule on East Pakistan.

Serajuddin was pleased to know how Bogra Mohammad Ali was caught in his own web of lies. It so happened that soon after the dismissal of Fazlul Haq from the chief ministership of the Eastern wing, Prime Minister Bogra Mohammad Ali held a news conference in Karachi. He accused both Callaghan and Mascarenhas of misquoting him in a vital political issue relating to Pakistan. Both the enraged correspondents replied angrily that they wrote exactly what he had told them. The Prime Minister shouted back and called them "liars." I took no time in questioning the Prime Minister: "Are you justified in dismissing Fazlul Haq's ministry on the report of these two liars?" The Prime Minister sank back in his chair for a few seconds. The conference room echoed and re-echoed with rib-tickling laughter.

It is a great tragedy that in Pakistan we are being fed on lies. The process continues unabated. Even the school and college text books have not been spared. I wish we had some writers and journalists of Serajuddin's integrity, credibility and commitment to expose our leaders who boast of law and order situation and economic health of the country while Karachi, Pakistan's biggest city, is soaked in blood and Pakistan's kitty remains empty besides foreign exchange reserves depleted.

Had Serajuddin been alive, he would be having some consolation following the insistence of a leading women's rights activist, Mrs Tahira Mazhar Ali Khan from Lahore, that an apology was due from the government of Pakistan for "atrocities" committed on Bengalis during the army action. The apology was demanded by Professor Sultana Zaman, one of the delegates from Bangladesh, at the International Conference of Writers and Intellectuals in Islamabad in early December 1995.

No doubt, Serajuddin's loss has rendered Bangladesh a great deal poorer.