THE term ‘revolution’ has evolved significantly over time, while its Bengali counterpart, ‘biplob,’ has not experienced the same expansion in meaning. This may be due to the strong influence of the Bolshevik left in Bengal, which has kept ‘biplob’ confined to the Russian, Chinese, and Cuban revolutionary models. In contrast, the word ‘revolution’ has been used in modern times to describe popular uprisings that have changed repressive regimes. Overthrows of military dictatorships or elected governments that undermine democracy and the restoration of democracy through popular uprisings against fascist states are also classified as revolutions around the world. However, in Bangladesh, it seems the recent student-led uprisings won’t be accepted as a revolution by the traditional left.
For the traditional left, certain conditions must be met for an event to be considered a revolution. A revolution, in their view, must involve replacing a capitalist state with a socialist one. This task would be led by a revolutionary socialist party with factions embedded among peasants, workers, and the proletariat overall. The leadership of the new socialist state would come from the previously oppressed classes, though in practice, it would be the revolutionary socialist party governing in the name of the proletariat. If these conditions are not met, any change cannot be considered a revolution. For them, revolution means only one thing: a communist revolution. This is despite the fact that international communist literature acknowledges revolutions can be bourgeois, petty-bourgeois, or even religious — for instance, Islamic. But for Bangladesh’s communists, revolution remains synonymous with a Bolshevik-style uprising.
Yet, within Marxist philosophy itself, there is a school of thought that views revolution as a continuous process rather than a singular event. In this view, revolution is ongoing, with movements acting as a permanent force of change. The swings in this process that dismantle the old order are what constitute a revolution. This perspective allows space for democratic revolutions. Societies, through various struggles, move from capitalism towards socialism. At first, this might take the form of social democracy, where most of the economy remains private but the state protects public interests through welfare programmes. In essence, capitalist exploitation continues, but the state takes responsibility for the welfare of the exploited, making their condition more bearable. From here, various forms of democratic socialism emerge, involving different blends of public and private economies. Democracy itself would decide which sectors remain public, which are privatised, and where public-private partnerships should exist. Eventually, if necessary, this could lead to a fully socialist economy. Even if this final stage is not reached, the changes preceding it could still be called revolutions if each reform marks a fundamental transformation of the state.
Implementing such long-term revolutionary change through ongoing reform in governance and the economy is not straightforward. There will be disruptions; achievements will be undone, and in some cases, things will have to start over from the beginning. However, cultural change will remain in motion, slowly but steadily, almost like a benchmark. The degree of freedom achieved by society will be reflected in its cultural production, which will serve as a reminder of that freedom. If freedom is ever lost, the journey can restart from that cultural testimony. This is not new — this is how change has always happened. But awareness of this process acts as a positive catalyst, accelerating the movement. It optimises the production of progress while minimising costs and losses.
In light of this discussion, one could argue that Bangladesh is currently experiencing a revolutionary period. Various possibilities are emerging. Some suggest that an Islamic revolution is underway beneath the surface of the uprisings. The question now is: What kind of economy will an Islamic revolution bring? If the economy remains the same and only cultural changes occur, can it truly be called a revolution of the state? Or will the intensity and dominance of Islamic culture simply continue to grow? These are critical issues to consider. A religious revolution that does not change the welfare-oriented economy merely creates rule by the religious clergy, which is inherently oppressive. On the other hand, some argue that a democratic revolution is taking place in the country. According to this perspective, we are entering an era of democratic politics where the will of the people will determine both the economy and culture. But more uprisings will be necessary to reach this point.
Critics warn that what will be expressed as the will of the people, in reality, be the will of the majority, which could be unbearable for the minority. Additionally, the freedom gained from one uprising could be lost in another. In this case, what should be the baseline for the actions of freedom-loving activists and intellectuals? The answer lies in international experience. We must advance with universally accepted, internationally recognised human rights as our benchmark. These rights must be enshrined as unchangeable and mandatory in our constitution and governance. Simultaneously, our local achievements must be included as essential components of the freedom struggle. This is the baseline.
The claim that there is no practice of democracy in our society and state is largely true. However, the lack of democracy in our behaviour is not intrinsic to us — it is neither congenital nor natural but rather cultural. And culture is neither monolithic nor static. We only consider the dominant part of it as culture. The absence of democratic values in that dominant part does not mean that democratic values are absent in all layers of our culture or cultures. They are present, albeit suppressed. In addition, when Bangladeshis go to another country with a democratic culture, they eventually adapt to that country’s democracy, and their next generation becomes an inseparable part of it. Therefore, we can safely say that if any society has ever benefited from democratic values, those values will remain embedded in some layer of that society’s culture. Our task is to bring those values to prominence.Ìý
These efforts will become unpopular only when they conflict with majoritarian values. This risk must be taken by future activists in Bangladesh. The benchmark set by the people in public welfare efforts during the floods must serve as the starting point for future efforts. Anything less will be marked as a regression. And the immediate task of intellectuals will be to critique why the public welfare efforts of the people are not reflected at the state level. If the state is a reflection of the people, then based on the people’s extraordinary efforts during the floods, the state must also become oriented towards public welfare. Therefore, it can be said that the July uprising and the national unity shown in August’s public welfare efforts concerning the great flood have set Bangladesh’s immediate goal: to form at least a democratic welfare state. While such states are rare, they are not nonexistent. The experiences of those states can serve as our benchmark. If we fall short of that standard, it must be recognised that the leaders of the state are betraying the people. And as we saw in the July Revolution, betrayal of the people has consequences. That, too, is our benchmark. If necessary, we will start again from there.
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Ahmed Shamim is a linguist and a writer based inÌýNew York, USA.
