Papye et fe
Three months on from the onset of the Monsoon Revolution, time to reset expectations about politics, and remain hopeful
Three months ago today, six people were killed by the uniformed goons of the fallen Hasina regime, setting in motion a chain of events that led to the despot fleeing the country on 5 August. Public emotions since then have convulsed between euphoria of victory, disbelief and disgust around the carnage and the wreckage left behind by Hasina, paranoia about a counter-revolution, anger at the general state of things, and then despair about the future. The social media ecosystem — or is it an echo-system — doesn’t help with the chaotic swings of the emotional pendulum.
Taking a break from the daily noise and reflecting on the trajectory of events, two themes stand out:
Bangladesh is in a post-revolutionary situation in the sense that the state machinery, always weak but hollowed out under Hasina, practically collapsed in early August;
but the key stakeholders, in the first 48-72 hours after Hasina fled, had agreed upon constitutional continuity and repairing the old republic instead of creating a new one.
I think the stakeholders — Gen Wakar-uz-Zaman, youth leaders like Mahfuj Alam and Nahid Islam, BNP leaders such as Mirza Fakhrul Islam Alamgir, and of course, Professor Yunus — made the right decision. Of course, one can count many specific things that they might have, or have not, done since then. However, the interim administration has done much better than might have been reasonably expected — feared is perhaps a better term — given the above two themes.
More importantly, resetting our expectations against the background of the above two themes would suggest the outlook for Bangladesh is in fact much better than the usual dose of hai hai in social media.
Let’s recap the chain of events from three months ago. There was a movement against the return of the quotas for public service jobs. Sheikh Hasina made those fateful remarks on 14 July, taunting the protesting students as grandchildren of razakars. The taunt was returned with a sarcastic slogan, to which was added a line that directly called Hasina shoirachar, rocking the campuses on 14-15 July and forcing the Chhatra League goons out. Abu Sayeed and five others were killed on the 16th. Dhaka and Jahangirnagar universities were forcibly vacated on the 17th. A popular uprising ensued on 18-19 July, forcing the fallen regime to deploy the military on the 20th.
That was the fateful week that sealed Hasina’s fate. Much of it was contingent on specific events. Had Hasina not made those remarks, would any of the following things have unfolded the way they did? It was those remarks that set the campuses afire. Once the BCL goons were hit, the regime couldn’t backtrack — Obaidul Quader was right when he put it as their existence was at stake!
Hasina’s remarks were the proximate cause of the uprising. Of course, there are deeper, structural factors — three rigged elections, cronyism, human rights violations, the sheer criminality of the regime, and the recent economic hardship — that made Bangladesh a febrile ground for revolution. The proximate, contingent nature of the uprising is not inconsistent with the existence of long-simmering discontent — it’s not either / or, it’s both.
Similarly, it’s not an either / or between spontaneous popular uprising versus the underlying organisation of the revolution (very clumsily and unfortunately described by the Chief Advisor in New York) — it’s both. There is no question about the essentially organic nature of resistance against Hasina’s escalating repression and the widespread public participation in the revolution. No one planned this.
And yet, it is also true that there were strategic decisions and co-ordination among the student organisers, from different parties, as well as political parties and other activists. For example, there was a strategy behind the decentralised nature of the student leadership, relying on multiple layers of spokespersons and coordinators, instead of the traditional mode individual leadership — that was not organic and decided randomly! Similarly, the students’ demands — from the initial quota issue to the symbolic rejection of identity politics to justice for the shaheeds as the death toll mounted to the nine points to one point — were political in nature and their evolution shows a political acumen that comes from prior thinking as well as engagement among various pro-democracy political actors.
That is, the Monsoon Revolution was an organic uprising contingent on specific events and yet was shaped by an incipient political coalition in an environment ripe for such an event. It’s essential to keep this duality in mind when we think about politics as they unfold.
Let’s also recap the endgame of the Hasina regime. While the historians will undoubtedly pore through every minute of those days, the broad outline seems to be something along the following.
There was widespread popular support for the One Point Demand (Hasina’s resignation) that was announced from the Shaheed Minar on 3 August. There was also widespread support for the protesters, and reluctance to commit massacre for the regime, among the junior and mid-ranking officers in the army. The army chief, in his durbar with the officers on the same day, asked the forces to not kill people, signaling that if a march to Ganabhaban were to eventuate, the army would not protect Hasina.
The despot had asked her partymen to ‘bury One Point’ on 4 August, something they failed to do despite killing over a hundred. She then asked the police and army to be even more ruthless on the 5th, something Gen Wakar-uz-Zaman refused. With hundreds of thousands of people approaching from the north, Hasina fled Ganabhaban, and then flew to India. Gen Zaman was parleying with BNP leaders and students (later joined by others) as Ganabhaban was stormed. By the late evening of the 5th (or early morning of the 6th), the news broke that Professor Yunus was to head the interim administration, though the youth leaders had been in touch with him for at least a few days as the events unfolded.
Here is how Gen Zaman told the nation that Hasina’s reign of terror was over.
The distrust of the army is a general theme in our political discourse. This is understandable given our history, which should make us ever vigilant about Bonapartism in our cantonments. Bangladesh army, after all, was conceived in mutiny!
The army does, however, have in its institutional DNA a respect for civilian political authority that goes back to the very foundational moment. This is why Major Ziaur Rahman followed up on his initial radio speech in March 1971 with the reference to a government constituted under the leadership of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman. This is also why the Mukti Bahini fought under the authority of the Mujibnagar government, and then Bangladesh Army returned to barracks after the war was over. This is also why Ziaur Rahman said in the morning of 15 Aug 1975 that if the president is dead, the army should uphold the constitution and let the vice president take over.
Gen Zaman took responsibility — his words — on 5 August, he had worked with the youth leaders and the politicians to install a civilian government and has not assumed power. It would seem that he is following the principles that Zia adhered to in March 1971 and August 1975.
What were the options before Gen Zaman, youth leaders, pro-democracy politicians on those critical hours after Hasina fled? Clearly no one wanted a martial law. Clearly there was a strong preference for a civilian administration headed by Professor Yunus. But what would the nature of this administration be? Would Yunus assume presidency and form a ‘revolutionary national government’ consisting of politicians and youth leaders? Would the constitution be annulled and a new republic be declared?
Perhaps these ideas were floated, but it is clear that they were rejected. Clearly the country was, and still is, in an extraordinary, extra-constitutional moment. But the collective decision was to hue as close to the existing constitution and republic as possible, and then repair the country.
That is, all the revolutionary rhetoric of Bangladesh 2.0 notwithstanding, we are still the People’s Republic of Bangladesh that was founded on 1971. The state was brought to near collapse by Hasina and her cronies. The days after Hasina fled resembled that of the first week of November, perhaps worse! The territorial integrity and sovereignty of Bangladesh as a viable state was at stake.
The collective decision taken by Zaman, Mahfuj Alam, Mirza Alamgir, and of course Prof Yunus, was to restore and repair the Republic. This needs to be stressed again and again.
It is not just the army that declined to assume power. Political parties did not join the government either. Again, future historians will explore this in detail. But the broad consensus among the politicians seems to be that they would prefer to test their popularity in a democratic election.
This of course does not mean an absence of politics. Quite the contrary! Politics was absent under Hasina because she ruled through force, repression, chicanery and propaganda. Politics has returned after she fled. Political actors — existing major parties as well as the fledgling youth platform and others — are actively pushing their agendas and narratives.
Thus for example we come to know that Jamaat was clandestinely active in Dhaka University, while the BNP-affiliated students were the ones who pushed to call out Hasina as shoirachar on 14-15 July. The two large pro-democracy parties have formally ended their alliance and are now openly contesting the political space. Meanwhile, some youth leaders are in government while others are working towards setting up a political movement if not a party.
There is a view that this is regrettable political division when we needed national unity. This notion, or any variation thereof, is ahistoric and politically naive. The national unity of the Long July was an extraordinary, once-in-a-lifetime situation. We should not want to live that reality continuously. We should want to see normal politics flourish.
And normal politics is a contest of ideas, narratives, and agendas. Let a hundred flower bloom!
Restoration of constitutional, democratic politics is the stated aim of the interim administration and all pro-democracy political actors. It is the sirat-al-mustaqim. In that sense, we are not in a revolutionary moment.
In a different sense, however, we surely are in a post-revolutionary situation. If by revolution we mean a collapse of the existing order, then what happened in Long July was indeed a revolution. A few facts need to be repeated and stressed to remind everyone of the collapse Hasina caused. The central bank governor was among the top bureaucrats to flee the country after Hasina. Five judges, 19 senior bureaucrats, 12 university administrators, 28 senior law enforcement officials and 487 other police personnel sought refuge in the cantonments. We had not seen this kind of state collapse even on 17 December 1971, when civilian administrators and officials across the country reported to duty to the Mukti Bahini and Indian army officers.
The interim administration can be, should be, criticized for many acts of omissions and commissions. For example, steps could have been taken to stop several Awami League leaders from fleeing. But any such criticism needs to keep the near collapse of the state in mind.
A number of commissions and task forces have been set up for state repair, the constitution being the most important one. There is a road map — these commissions will present their recommendations by the new year, followed by dialogue and deliberations, and then election. All pro-democracy political actors are jockeying to push their agendas. This is not to be feared but celebrated. This is what democracy looks like!
Of course, the fallen despot and her cronies are also scheming, taking advantage of the democratic environment to push their agendas and narratives. This too should not be feared, but must be vigorously pushed back and defeated politically. The price of liberty is eternal vigilance!
Meanwhile, there are more mundane things like prices, and law and order, and traffic. Whirlwind romance doesn’t end with happily-ever-after but the towel smell of marriage. Similarly, the adrenaline rush of revolution, at the best of times, is replaced by the drudgery of governance.
We are, of course, far from the best of times. The police force is still not functioning. The state machinery is still full of Awami League hacks — it takes about 15 years of experience before one becomes a District Commissioner in Bangladesh, do the maths!
Notwithstanding this, the government has chalked up notable successes — the metro rail is functioning in a few weeks and the Durga Puja has happened without any major incidence. Both carry important political symbolism!
Of course, the administration needs to be criticised continuously and constructively. They have shown a willingness to respond and course correct, the recent arrests in Feni followed by the indemnification of acts in support of the Monsoon Revolution being a major example.
And this is what gives me hope — that we can criticise the government and all political players freely and without fear, and that the government and political players respond!
Konstitusyon se papye, bayonet se fe — the constitution is paper, bayonet is steel — is how the Haitians explain their history. That island was the first country in the world where a people of color successfully defeated European colonialism. They wrote a constitution after the successful revolution of 1804, one of the earliest such documents. Over two centuries later, the country remains mired in strife and lawlessness. One of the poorest in the world, Haiti is the epitome of a failed state.
The constitution of Bangladesh had also become little more than a piece of paper under Sheikh Hasina. She wanted the steel of the bayonet — okay, perhaps the machete of her goons and the bullets of her cops — to suppress the Monsoon Revolution. She failed and fled.
Bangladesh is collectively choosing the paper of the constitution. Let the ideas flourish.
Speak up.
কথা ক!
Further reading
The best books on Failed States
recommended by Clare Lockhart, 13 May 2009
Bangladeshi Londoners haunted by torture and disappearance back home
Guy Linn, 4 Jan 2024
A Proposal Concerning the Duration of the Interim Government
Tanweer Akram, 27 Aug 2024
July 2024 uprising: The lions need their own historians
Faridul Alam, 27 Aug 2024
Time to listen to Bangladeshi voices
Zafar Sobhan, 30 Aug 2024
Media reform in Bangladesh: What reforms does the media need in Bangladesh?
Kamal Ahmed, 9 Sep 2024
Tazeen Murshid, 10 Sep 2024
Daring to defend the anti-discrimination student movement
Md Mahmudul Hasan, 21 Sep 2024
18-month timeline not excessively long
Ruhul Kabir Rizvi, 24 Sep 2024
Verena Holzel, 24 Sep 2024
Bangladesh: How Hasina Could Stage an Unlikely Comeback
Charlie Campbell, 3 Oct 2024
Top Indian fact-checkers assert that misleading narratives about Bangladesh's July revolution were more prevalent than outright false claims
Faisal Mahmud, 8 Oct 2024
Do you think the current administration is going to join RCEP? Seems like a very big decision that an interim government wouldn't have the political mandate to execute.
It's good that the government has recently cracked down on unionist activity. We can't import this West Bengali cancer into the country.