IT鈥橲 such a relief that Bangladesh is now free from Sheikh Hasina鈥檚 15-year autocratic rule! Bangladeshis at home and abroad awaited this well-deserved freedom without knowing when or how it could materialise. Finally, it鈥檚 delivered by an unpredicted group in a way that was also unanticipated. It鈥檚 a case of leadership without leaders, spearheaded by students. Freedom has, of course, come at a huge cost. How and from where the students received the means of overcoming the fear of death and such a love of freedom will remain a mystery.
Many students gave their lives without second thought. People marched to Dhaka in millions with full knowledge of Sheikh Hasina鈥檚 thirst for blood, each taking their life in their hands. Fortunately, their lives were spared this time. The so-called iron lady fled to where she came from over four decades ago. Those with an interest in politics will study how she met her end with all her forces at home and in the neighbourhood. The oppressor is ever so cowardly, as we read somewhere as primary school kids. It鈥檚 proven true again on August 5, 2024.
The new independence makes us revisit our previous independence from Pakistan in 1971. It repeats the razakar moment 鈥� a moment that tells how razakars are made and remade in national struggles. As Bangladeshis are celebrating the new freedom, they will be asking: Who are the razakars now 鈥� the supporters of the autocratic regime or those who stood for the mass movement? It鈥檚 a rhetorical question, needing no answer.
While the first razakar moment in the recent history of Bangladesh cannot be forgotten, it needs to be freed from its discursive excesses. The hegemonic discourse has been constructed in many fields, including literature, media, arts, and history. It has been manipulated to such an extent that it has worked to discriminate against and marginalise even the demographic majority. Its wholesale application has criminalised many. On the other hand, it gave immunity to criminals because they thought they owned the patent of the discourse.
The razakar discourse established an industry in the country owned by the Awami League and its local and regional associates. The now-rejected political party capitalised on this discourse for decades. They established their monopoly. They also worked as an exclusive agency for certifying Razakar identities. As it has been rightly noted, the Awami League is such a unique political machine that it can produce a razakar out of a freedom fighter and a freedom fighter out of a razakar.
As a language academic, I read the August 5 victory as a societal corrective of outdated and oversold hegemonic discourses. It has brought natural justice in a way. For the first time, the razakar card that had worked in the past to criminalise people and justify any brutality against them didn鈥檛 work. In fact, the discourse itself was deconstructed, reversed, and rewritten. This happened at an unforgettable discursive moment when the students chanted the slogan, 鈥榃ho I am, who you are, razakar, razakar.鈥�
It can鈥檛 be missed that at the centre of the new independence movement was this discourse. If our first independence was inspired by language, the second one also included a linguistic reference. This time, it鈥檚 not a named language, such as Bangla or Urdu. It鈥檚 nonetheless language that is deployed as a discursive tool by those with social and political power for selfish political and material pursuits.
Sheikh Hasina鈥檚 reaction to the quota movement at the fateful press conference reproduced the effect of the 鈥楿rdu and Urdu鈥� arrogance by Pakistani leaders ahead of the 1952 language movement. Her characteristic jeering and belittling of the protesting students and her autocratic use of the Razakar card backfired. She would have learnt from her guidebook of autocracy that if brutal force worked in the past, it should work in the present and in the future. She deployed and invested in the police, which had the authority to kill. And they killed hundreds of students as if they were shooting birds. The Awami high command also deployed the Chhatra League thugs, who played their murdering role under the aegis of the security forces, with the assurance of impunity. They created a non-military version of the March 25, 1971, night in Dhaka with comparable brutality.
However, nothing worked out for the autocrat in the end. She ran away, as did many of those around her. But many more are left behind, facing public wrath and inviting the razakar identity for themselves.
There are curious questions about the puritans of the rejected Razakar discourse. One science professor who has earned name and fame by writing more about science fiction than science attracted significant attention during the student movement. He said that he would no longer visit Dhaka University because he would meet razakars among its students. He would certainly not come to the premier university in the foreseeable future, but no matter where he goes in Bangladesh, he will meet students whom Hasina has labelled children of razakars. Where could he go to avoid encountering razakars? Would he understand that the new paradigm has planted a razakar within himself?
A similar set of questions applies to a retired judge of the Appellate Division of the Bangladesh Supreme Court who also left his mark during the student movement with his razakar orthodoxy. He noted that there were at least 40 million descendants of razakars in the country. If we include their parents and other relatives, the number must be over 100 million, as he was helped in his math by an ex-member of parliament who also attended the talk show where he regurgitated his razakar statistics. In a way, the听 August 5 victory of the 鈥榬azakars鈥� is also a victory of his epistemic capacity. He can take pride in his number-counting power. Those who marched to Dhaka were just a small proportion of the total razakar population in the country.听It will be interesting to see what new theories of razakar he cooks in the coming days and in which market those theories are sold. How he positions himself in the new razakar moment will be even more newsworthy.
As the nation moves forward with new freedom, some of its discursive industries need to be shut down. This is not about forgetting history; it鈥檚 about closing the monopoly of the history business by its vendors, who fashioned and refashioned the products of history at will. The quota system was part of this history of trading to sustain the autocratic regime.
We also need to erase all binary discourses that are part of this industry. Our knowledge and memory of independence and our respect for our freedom fighters 鈥� old and new 鈥� don鈥檛 need the creation of for-and-against groups or discourses of any sort. These are discursive weeds and should be uprooted for the healthy growth of history, humanity, and human dignity.
听
Obaidul Hamid is an associate professor at the University of Queensland in Australia. He researches language, education, and society in the developing world.
