I鈥橫 ABOUT Sheikh Hasina鈥檚 age, give or take a few months. In my youth, I voted for her father; then in middle age, I voted for her, once, twice until I stopped. My story here may be of interest to young people who were born in the 1980s or after, to some like me who turned their status to red in July鈥揂ugust, or even to a few who sadly remain trapped in their father-of-the-nation time-warp.
I hope I live long enough to vote one more time, maybe in about two years, in a general election held under this interim government. And that, I think, will be the last time.
The first time I voted was in 1970. I was a third year student of Dhaka University, getting ready for my bachelor鈥檚 final examinations scheduled towards the end of the year. I don鈥檛 remember the name of the candidate I voted for. It didn鈥檛 matter then, it doesn鈥檛 matter now. I voted for Sheikh Mujibur Rahman鈥檚 鈥榥auka marka鈥� ballot and as everyone knows, the Awami League won 167 out of 169 seats in the national assembly. Everyone I knew at the time voted for the Awami League. Sheikh Mujibur Rahman鈥檚 popularity was so overwhelming at the time that I voted for an AL candidate without knowing anything about him.
During my college and university years (1965鈥�71) and even during later years, I was a strong supporter of the Bangladesh Chhatra Union. In those days, most students (at least my friends) were progressive socialists of one kind or another. Mujahidul Islam Selim was a close school friend who had already become a leader of the party and continued to be one throughout his life in the Communist Party of Bangladesh.
The first general elections in independent Bangladesh was held in 1973 and I voted for a NAP candidate, knowing fully well that the Awami League would win again overwhelmingly. It won 293 out of 300 seats. The result was hardly a surprise for most people.
In 1973, I became a teacher in Dhaka University, got married in 1974, left the country in 1975, about a week after Sheikh Mujibur Rahman鈥檚 assassination in August. Between 1973 and 1975, the new republic was slowly but surely sliding towards a one-party authoritarian rule. But my own thoughts at the time were elsewhere: selfish and focused on my job and my studies abroad.
Presidential elections were held under Ziaur Rahman in 1978 and general elections in 1979. I was abroad and it is highly unlikely that I would have voted for a man who came from the barracks and whose politics was, at best, totally unknown to me and, at worst, was suspect.
After Zia鈥檚 assassination in 1981, just months after Sheikh Hasina returned from her exile in India, Ershad took over the government and called for general elections in 1986. The Awami League participated in the elections, boycotted by the Bangladesh Nationalist Party and other major parties and dubbed by many international observers as a tragedy for democracy. The Awami League got only 73 seats and Sheikh Hasina became the leader of the opposition. Ershad reportedly had to shell out about 20 crore to the Awami League for giving this election a semblance of credibility.
Happily, I was again out of the country and I did not have to vote in an election that was clearly farcical.
But back in the country in 1987, in time for another general election in 1988, I clearly remember that I did not vote. All major parties including the Awami League boycotted the elections. By this time, the opposition against Ershad鈥檚 government had gathered enough momentum leading to his ultimate deposition in December 1990. This paved the way for truly democratic elections for the first time in 1991 after almost 16 years of military rule since 1975.
Like many of my friends, I voted for the Awami League, almost certain that the party would win and restore democracy. We were shocked when the Awami League secured only 88 seats. The Bangladesh Nationalist Party, winning 140 seats, formed a coalition government with the Jamaat-e-Islami, which got only 35. This was truly a disappointment for most secular-minded, progressive and democratic voters, now known pejoratively as 鈥榗hetanajibis鈥�.
I surely belonged to this category, albeit only as a low-level, low-profile voter. Some of my high profile chetanajibi friends (even students) occupy, or have occupied, until recently, high positions in the government and academia and the cultural world; some have escaped, some are hiding and some are even in jail today.
Many might not remember that there were two elections in 1996. The first one in February 鈥� boycotted by the Awami League, the Jatiya Party and Jamaat, with very low voter turnout (26 per cent), in which the Bangladesh Nationalist Party won 276 seats 鈥� was very short-lived.
A second election in June, this time under a caretaker government, brought victory for the first time for Sheikh Hasina. The Awami League returned to power 21 years after Sheikh Mujibur Rahman was assassinated in 1975.
Most of my chetanajibi friends and acquaintances where absolutely thrilled. I must confess that I, too, was happy to vote for her and happy to see her win. I left the country again for almost three years.
Again I voted for her in 2001, almost automatically, still wearing blinkers and believing that the values of nationalism, democracy, socialism and secularism, founding principles of the state, were still enshrined in the politics of the Awami League. However, the first signs of corruption amongst Awami politicians were becoming visible in their flashy suits and increasing waistline. But for me, still, voting for the Bangladesh Nationalist Party, Jamaat and Jatiya Party was never an option.
The Communist Party of Bangladesh and other leftist parties were never a viable option, but that is another sad story. I voted again for the Awami League and it lost, in a fair election, held under a caretaker government.
After almost five years of misrule under the Bangladesh Nationalist Party (2001鈥�2006) and more than two years of further political confusion, corruption and chaos under the Nuruddin-Fakhruddin caretaker government, another chance for democracy arrived in 2008.
Strangely, I have no memory of voting in December 2008, but given the circumstances in which the elections were held and with the misdeeds of 鈥楬awa Bhaban鈥� still fresh in my memory, I probably would have voted for Hasina if I had voted at all.
In what is often considered to be a controversial election, rigged to favour the Awami League, Hasina came back to power in 2009 and never left until she was forced to fly to India on August 5.
On the morning of August 5, while I was still sleeping in a city thousands of miles away from Dhaka, my wife woke me up at seven o鈥檆lock in the morning saying, 鈥楬asina paliyechhe!鈥� (Hasina has fled) and I woke exhilarated beyond words, hardly able to believe that the dictator had fallen. In an hour or so, my son wrote to me from Dhaka, 鈥楩inally, I can breathe.鈥�
So, how did this happen? I鈥檓 not referring to Hasina鈥檚 fall, but my own transformation (and thousands of others like me) from being a chetana-inspired voter to one totally disillusioned and disgusted by what the Awami League and Sheikh Hasina had become.
Starting from the Pilkhana massacre of 2009, through all the rigged elections of 2014, 2018 and 2024, the signs of Hasina鈥檚 descent into a megalomaniac, psychopathic, kleptocratic dictatorship were there for all to see only if you took off your blinkers, only if you were not a beneficiary of the government, either as a politician, a businessman, a cultural activist, a university professor or a student, or simply as a hired thug. I could no longer hold on to my earlier views of what Mujib had accomplished or what Hasina stood for. I do not recall a single 鈥榚ureka鈥� moment when the scales fell from my eyes, but I knew that she had to go to stop the ruin.
I was further radicalised by my close contact with some young millennials, including some writers and journalists in Dhaka. It is, therefore, not at all surprising that I was thrilled that Hasina鈥檚 long years of unbearable misrule had come to an end.
We saw that she destroyed the electoral system and rigged all the elections that followed in 2014, 2018 and 2024; she stifled all opposition and silenced all critical voices through draconian digital and cyber-security laws. Thousands of dissenters, real or perceived, were thrown into jail, tortured in what we now know as 鈥榓ynaghar鈥�, were disappeared or simply killed. She surrounded herself with the worst kind of sycophants and flatterers who helped her plunder the nation and enabled her fascist regime. She could not have done this without the support of sections of the army, Rapid Action Battalion, Border Guard Bangladesh and the police. Hasina鈥檚 misdeeds of the last 15 years cannot be summarised in one paragraph!
All these signs of a dictatorship were there for all to see. The young students saw it, launched a movement that snowballed into an uprising and brought an end to her regime. Over a thousand young and old protesters lost their lives to save the nation.
I am not at all sure of what the future holds, but I have great faith in the young people who wrought this uprising. I do not know how the next election will play out, or if I鈥檒l even be alive to vote in the next election, but I do know that I鈥檒l not vote for the Awami League, or the Bangladesh Nationalist Party, or the Jatiya Party or Jamaat. I hope there will be something new to vote for.
In the meantime, I hope that some of the people who have cancelled me will come to their senses.
听
Shawkat Hussain is a former professor of English at Dhaka University.
