The last few weeks have been trying for the Bangladeshi people.
On July 18th, the internet was cut off. I was there. I happened to be visiting Bangladesh after 14 long years. People told me this was not the first time the internet had been shut down, but this was the first time that both mobile and home internet was turned off.
Protests have been going on since the beginning of July. Initially, I struggled to follow the problem as I was not familiar with Bangladeshi politics and the school system. Slowly, I learned about the quota system and the desperation and hope of millions of people to secure a few thousand respectable government jobs that promise a comfortable life for years to come.
The internet blackout was brutal. We didn’t have anything to do. As curfew was instantiated, it was risky to go out. Collecting in groups was also risky; we could be identified as student protestors and then get stuck in fraudulent lawsuits that could drag on for years.
We soon got tired of being trapped at home, so my cousin and I ventured out to see if there was any army on the streets. To our surprise, there was no one. Fear is perhaps the best weapon for controlling people. Spread some rumours about violence, install a curfew, and use military resources where you need them. Efficient and cunning, and it worked! Most people, especially older folks, didn’t leave their homes. People were finally daring to use their voice after all these years; if there is no internet and you can’t go out, you can’t possibly raise your voice, right? It wasn’t just an internet blackout but an attempt to blackout your mind, body and soul by installing fear in your heart.
Roaming around on an auto-rickshaw finally after a few days of internet blackout was liberating. We went out to find some movies at night. We searched around corner stores that looked like they had anything to do with technology for people who might have some movies to share with us. Luckily, we did find some.
Those were the internet blackout days. Soon after, we were expecting things to get better—an end to the senseless and needless violence. But the government kept making mistakes—a sign they were digging their own graves. They lied about the internet. They mocked and made fun of the protests. When you’re in power for so long, and you think you’ve mastered all the trades of the game, it is natural to feel confident that you can handle another protest. They kept showing sympathy for material wealth (metro rail, buildings, television channels)—stuff you can rebuild. But didn’t show any sympathy for the citizens of the country whom they swore to protect. Finally, reluctantly, they did show sympathy for those who died protesting, but it was too late. Students have had enough of the drama around people’s deaths.
My vacation was ending. I was to leave for Canada on July 28th. I joked with everybody that things were going to get worse once I left. My curse seemed to have fallen strongly throughout the country. It turns out I wasn’t wrong!
In the next few days, the govt kept making the same mistakes. Instead of apologizing and taking full responsibility for all the people who died, the mismanagement, the internet blackout, and the lies, they decided to use force to quell students.
The use of force was a big mistake. This added fuel to a protest that had nothing to do with govt resignation in the first place. But by this time, it was taking shape to take down the government. Wrong choice of words, wrong attitude and wrong decisions made everyone go against a government that people mostly appreciated for all the major infrastructure projects they had done. People didn’t want power, money or regime change. They just wanted justice for their friends and family who died simply because they asked the government to reform the quota system so that the majority of people who got hired for government jobs were based on merit.
August 4th was yet another of those abuse of power days. Approximately 100 people were killed. The govt still didn’t understand what was happening. It failed to feel people’s pain and their sorrow.
In support of their brothers, a long march was declared on August 5th. This was all while the internet was cut off again on August 4th. Fear, force, intimidation—none of these things worked anymore. Finally, on August 5th, the prime minister fled the country in the most dishonourable way, ending a 15-year-long dictatorship.
What does freedom feel like?
It feels amazing. People of the country have been suffocated by fear of being kidnapped, tortured, and killed for a long time. Nothing could be voiced against the government—a true 1984. The punishment was severe if someone dared to hint at any resistance. Your family members could get hurt, you might lose your life, be tortured and put inside an aynaghar, and your future would become uncertain. This has been the unacceptable reality of a democratic nation.
Students have realized, with the deaths of their friends and loved ones, that it was better to die than to live in perpetual fear. Being voiceless and powerless is worse than death. In the end, their sacrifice gave Bangladesh a new independence. A new birth. Bangladesh 2.0. Students and citizens want a country that is free of corruption; they’re tired of thugs in power competing to steal resources away from countrymen; all political parties have proven one thing: they’re all equally committed to stealing away from the country. That is why calls are being made to form a new political power that doesn’t have any blood in its name. A power that works seriously in the interest of ordinary Bangladeshis.
It is a genuine philosophical question: how is one motivated to amass wealth from money that is stolen from others? Fraudulent wealth accumulation cannot be counted as an accomplishment. It is plain robbery. You’re just a thief. Stolen food, cars, homes and other pleasures are they really pleasurable?
But don’t believe for one second that this will be the last time power is misused. In Bangladesh, everybody wants to misuse everybody and everything. But August 5th will be a reminder to everyone what happens when you abuse your privilege. Nobody is immune from justice. Everyone shall face it.
As a Bangladeshi, I am swelling with pride that young students were able to topple a dictatorial government so powerful and mighty. However, I sigh in sorrow that it is still fighting for independence. That is still starting out as a country. While other countries have turned their fate around in a generation. My country is still writing its constitution. Had my countrymen been a little more honest, it could have been a Golden Bengal by now as it used to be before the British Raj.
