A vote for 1971: How Bengali nationalism secured BNP's election win

ON THE MORNING of February 12, Bangladesh stood at a crossroads, facing a split mirror. On one side was an image of disrupted nationalism, a cul-de-sac created by a small tribe of activists propelled into temporary prominence by turbulent circumstances, who sought a false dichotomy between Bengali and Bangladeshi, and distorted faith to challenge culture as a gene of identity. Their political spearhead was a collation of self-appointed guardians of God, floating on Icarus wings; the extreme element of this coalition even dreamt of a theocratic constitution in which minorities were the leftovers of history, rather than equal citizens as they are now.

Voters electing a government to end turmoil were also being asked to choose between 1947 and 1971. In 1947, East Pakistan was born on Bengali maati as an anti-India negative rather than a positive expression of statehood. Bengalis quickly realised that they had become victims of a civilisational heist; their language, a foundation of their identity, was being stolen from them.

In an irony whose dimensions have still to be fully tested by the cold eye of history, the Muslim League architects of Pakistan insisted on Urdu as the only official language upon the many geographies of a country sliced out by Partition. Bengal spoke Bengali, Punjab Punjabi, Sindh Sindhi, Baluchistan Balochi, the Frontier Pashto. Urdu was and is a melodic tongue from a part of central India; it could not be imprisoned in an artificial state. In 1971, Bengalis chose a civilisational state over an artificial construct.

A powerful coalition, backed by some foreign powers, sought to exploit the discontent of the 2020s, to reverse 1971, ideologically if not geographically. A significant feature of its election strategy was to arouse and exploit, electorally, what it believed was a visceral hatred for India. Cricket became a victim of these tactics, leaving Bangladesh out of the T20 World Cup. Pakistan, always ready to rush in where angels fear to tread, fanned this fire to the extent it could. The misfortune of dangerous ideologues is that they can never understand the common sense of the common people. Bangladeshi voters elected a political force which claimed Bengali nationalism with pride: the Bangladesh Nationalist Party.

The founder of the BNP was Ziaur Rahman, who, as a major in the army, rose against the colonisation of his country by Islamabad, and broadcast the declaration of independence in March 1971 from a clandestine radio station in Chittagong. As General Ziaur Rahman, he became president of his country in 1977, until he was assassinated in 1981. His wife, Begum Khaleda, led the party until she passed away very recently. The new prime minister is their son.

Tarique Rahman, who suffered nearly two decades of exile, was more astute than many of his seniors across the political spectrum. One pointed remark that he made during the campaign conveys a wealth of meaning: cricket should be a bridge, not a battlefield.

His opponents, led by the Jamaat-e-Islami, promised the people of Bangladesh freedom from sin, salvation in heaven, and, just in case this was not enough, a handout of 15,000 taka. It is impossible for an observer to invent such a manifesto. The voter wanted a better life on this earth. For salvation, he could turn to the Holy Book at home or the mosque in his village; he also knew that command of heaven had not yet been handed over to self-appointed priests.

Women voters led the way to the BNP’s victory, because they knew that beneath the veneer of religiosity there existed misogyny. Detailed statistics have not yet been released, but visual evidence suggests that the polling percentage was higher among women than men. You could see the quiet determination in their eyes. The media so often look at the face and forget the eyes.

The most interesting results were from Dhaka. The Jamaat believed that the capital, and particularly its campuses, would become the vanguard of an electoral upheaval in its favour. The BNP swept Dhaka. Most of the Jamaat’s seats came from the border with West Bengal, a story which needs some investigation before its various implications can be analysed.

There is a larger battle going on in many Muslim countries and communities as disillusionment with conventional political, or indeed autocratic, formations breeds a fascination for theocratic forces. A story from the autobiography of the most famous Bengali of the 1940s and 1950s, Hussain Shaheed Suhrawardy, comes to mind. Suhrawardy has the unique distinction of having been a godfather of both Pakistan, as leader of the Bengal Muslim League in the 1940s, and Bangladesh, as a mentor of the Awami League in the 1950s. He became prime minister of Pakistan for a few months before the country plunged into what has become irreversible army rule. As prime minister, he received a suggestion that Pakistan should seek an alliance with a few countries. Suhrawardy remarked, with his usual dry wit: “When you add zero to zero, you only get zero.”

Bangladesh has left that zero behind. It can progress, if its leadership displays the necessary sagacity, on the multiplier effect doctrine of Bengali nationalism, a liberal economic framework, and cultural harmony.

Akbar is a journalist, author and former minister of state in the ministry of external affairs.