Timeout for reflection

Shahid Alam

Today the nation observes Shaheed Buddhijibi Dibosh. Today the nation recalls the ultimate sacrifice that members of its intelligentsia made thirty-eight years ago so that a new country could be born out of much blood, sweat, and tears. They were not the only ones who made the supreme sacrifice, that goes without saying; in fact, as a group they were a miniscule minority compared to the larger agglomerates like the farmers, armed forces, students, paramilitary soldiers, and the police. Nonetheless, precisely because of their relatively small number, the intellectuals draw greater attention to themselves.

Because of their higher enlightenment, they are regarded as guides of a nation's collective ethos. And, not many can lay claim to possessing higher enlightenment. They are also seen as custodians of a nation's history and culture. And, not many can lay claim to this accolade, either. So, when they become a part of history by having their lives cut short violently for being ethical guides and custodians of culture and history, that is tantamount to carving out a piece of a nation's soul. And, as the event recedes in time, its memory becomes a time of reflection for the present, and a symbolic representation of righteousness for future generations to get inspired by. The intellectuals gave their lives, lest we forget, for an ideal.

And, therefore, they cannot be forgotten even as those who knew them personally themselves take their leave from the world of the living until, inevitably, one day, none will be left to say, “I knew him/her.” In 1971, the Pakistan army carried out methodical killing of a number of Bengali intellectuals in the initial stage of the liberation war. However, as the war was winding down to its denouement of the birth of Bangladesh as a sovereign, independent nation-state, the army and its local henchmen engaged themselves in a planned extensive targeted execution of university teachers, writers, journalists, doctors, engineers, and artists. They had committed what someone has termed “cerebrogenocide” on the Bengali nation. And, out of it emerged the ritualistic observance of Shaheed Buddhijibi Dibosh.

The day was born out of a tragedy that, even if for one of those rare days in a year when that phenomenon happens, unites the nation in a common memory and a shared narrative. If only there were more days in a year like that --- many, many more! But the nation is so divided along ridiculously established fault lines, and they are perceptibly growing deeper and wider with the passage of time, that days of remembrance like today really turn out to be little more than a ritualistic exercise. And that is a tragedy for the nation.

Human beings are by nature sentimental, the average Bangladeshi probably more than many other nationalities.

Reflection on what the sacrifice of the intellectuals thirty eight years back means in terms of the nation's progress would be a worthwhile exercise this day. None of the martyred intellectuals willingly sacrificed themselves. They were forced to embrace martyrdom for what they symbolized. And it is that symbol that we as a nation should always keep in sight. They were sacrificed on the altar of an ideal of a shared vision. That vision was that of a nation at one, striving for a sovereign independent homeland that they would call Bangladesh. Theirs was a vision of a nation equated with a nation-state. That, of course, was realized, although they did not live to see it, and the euphoria of that equation was sustained for some time.

The nation! That, remember, is what we identified as the ideal of the martyred intellectuals! That was the tie that bound them in 1971. That was the bond that led them to their slaughterhouse. Their killers recognized that their moral stance, courageously and steadfastly held, was a galvanizing element in an entire nation's struggle for independence and freedom. That was why they were silenced --- for what they symbolized, more than anything else. Have they been replaced? No one is indispensable. The new replaces the old. The march of a society, of civilization, demands that a more innovative, more inventive, more dynamic, more curious generation replace the one before it. It does not always happen that way, but a generational gap will usually see to it that enlightened vacancies are at least adequately replaced. So, yes, they have been replaced, as Bangladesh now has more academics, more journalists, more engineers, more doctors, more artists, more writers than, several at least just as accomplished as, the ones who left us in 1971.

Photo: Rashid Talukdar

But, could one in all honesty say that they share the fundamental ideals of a nation that was created on the basis of ideals held by their predecessors? Granted, the political and social environment of the two eras shows some telling differences, but, at the very least, there should be no divisibility in a shared vision (and, let us not talk about a vacuous declaration of a yearning for a happy and prosperous country) for a Bangladesh that should not be a subject of news stories in the foreign media only when disaster strikes it and its people. Take a look, many of today's intellectuals are as fiercely divided as any other group, along the same fault lines, and, in certain instances, have even contributed towards some of it. It behooves them, as members of the intelligentsia, to once again become the vanguard of an enterprise designed to minimize the rift that is bedeviling the nation, to lend their moral support, to lead by example by showing the way to the healing of the national ethos. That, at this juncture in the nation's history, would be a monumental tribute to the martyred intellectuals of 1971.

The writer is Head, Media and Communication department, Independent University, Bangladesh.