Every year we struggle through the scorching heat of summer. Then the rains arrive, to refresh us, bring us relief. Farmers begin harvesting jute from their fields, others start preparing their land for the cultivation of the Aman rice crop.
Across vast regions of Bangladesh, Ashar is one of the busiest months of the year. Urban life, however, scarcely shares this experience. In cities, rain is not often welcome. Newspaper headlines speak of continuous rainfall or "bad" weather disrupting daily life, while office commuters are faced with inconvenience and hardship.
These are two contrasting realities within the same country. For millions of farmers in the villages, the field is their workplace, and rain is a deeply cherished blessing. In the city, by contrast, it is often regarded as a nuisance.
Globally, July is marked by a number of international "days". These include World Population Day (11 July), which aims to raise awareness of health and development challenges; World Youth Skills Day (15 July), dedicated to equipping young people with the skills needed to become productive and capable members of society; Nelson Mandela International Day (18 July), which symbolises the struggle against racism and the pursuit of peace and freedom; and International Tiger Day (29 July), which seeks to increase global awareness about conserving endangered tigers and their habitats.
These observances come and go. Government agencies and a handful of NGOs typically mark the occasions by organising rallies and seminars, with participants wearing matching caps and T-shirts. Afterwards, they are largely forgotten.
Two years ago, however, July arrived in Bangladesh with extraordinary force. University campuses and the streets resonated with the determined footsteps of young people. The catalyst was the Anti-Discrimination Student Movement. The country entered what became the longest July in its history—a July that swept away those in power like a devastating flood.
The July of 2024 can be viewed from many angles and through many different perspectives. Broadly speaking, two groups of people are associated with it. One believes it emerged victorious; to them, it was a mass uprising or a revolution. The other believes it was defeated; its members see themselves as victims of the events and view what happened as the result of a conspiracy.
The conspiracy theory is that a group plotted to bring down the government because the country was progressing remarkably. This was intolerable to its enemies. They allegedly incited the public against the nation''s "angelic" leaders and brought ruin upon the country.
Many people in Bangladesh believe this theory. They regard their leader as being "godlike," someone incapable of making mistakes. In their view, the leader did nothing wrong, and no one in the country has ever been a greater patriot. They believe that those who did not want what was best for the nation conspired with foreign enemies to overthrow the government. According to this narrative, the United States was behind the ploy.
Conspiracy theories are nothing new. We know the history of 1971. Pakistan was broken apart, and Bangladesh was born. Much blood was shed in the process. Why did it happen? Here, too, conspiracy theories abound. According to one such narrative, Pakistan was a golden land, flowing with "milk and honey." Its enemies could not tolerate its success. Pursuing its geopolitical interests, the Soviet union supposedly used India to break up Pakistan and create Bangladesh. The people of the country, this theory claims, did not want separation, nor did they harbour any resentment against Pakistan.
Conspiracy are as old as history itself. Those who lose often cling to them in an attempt to justify themselves. They describe their own actions as "planning" while dismissing the actions of those with opposing views as "conspiracy." In essence, the two are the same. At times, one simply prevails over the other. This is how societies and history move forward.
Let us look back at the days of July two years ago. What do we see?
On 1 July, a large number of students and job seekers gathered in front of the Dhaka University Library under the banner of the Anti-Discrimination Student Movement, demanding reforms to the quota system in government recruitment. From there, they marched to the Raju Memorial Sculpture in front of the Teacher-Student Centre (TSC), where they held a rally. At that gathering, they announced a boycott of classes and examinations at all universities and colleges through 4 July.
Meanwhile, students at Jahangirnagar University held a procession on their campus. From 11:57 am, they staged a symbolic blockade of the Dhaka–Aricha Highway for ten minutes. Students at Rajshahi University and Bangladesh Agricultural University also organised demonstrations on their respective campuses, pressing the same demand. That was how it all began.
It was the ruling authorities who introduced the freedom fighter-razakar divide into the debate. The students had not demanded the abolition of the quota reserved for freedom fighters. Rather, they had called for a reasonable reform of the quota system
14 July marked a turning point. Upon returning from China, Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina expressed her displeasure with the protesting students at a press conference, saying: "Why is there so much resentment toward the Liberation War and the freedom fighters? Shouldn't the grandchildren of freedom fighters get jobs? Who should get them, the grandchildren of razakars (collaborators of the enemy)?"
Her remark provoked a powerful backlash. The Anti-Discrimination Student Movement rapidly expanded in both size and force.
Thousands of students, most of whom had been born long after the Liberation War, took to campuses chanting: "Who are you? Who are we? Razakars, Razakars! Who said this? Who said it? The dictator, the dictator!"
Supporters of Hasina seized upon only the first part of the slogan and began portraying the movement as one led by Razakars (a term used for those who collaborated with the Pakistani military during Bangladesh''s 1971 Liberation War). To protect themselves politically and for ulterior motives, they ignored the second half of the slogan, which directly labeled the government as dictatorial. Some pro-government intellectuals also joined in advancing this interpretation.
It was the ruling authorities who introduced the freedom fighter-razakar divide into the debate. The students had not demanded the abolition of the quota reserved for freedom fighters. Rather, they had called for a reasonable reform of the quota system. Sheikh Hasina turned the issue into political capital. Reflecting on this point helps explain why such a large number of students became deeply angered by Hasina.
How many freedom fighters and how many razakars are there in Bangladesh? In my view, their numbers are roughly comparable. There are around 200,000 officially recognised freedom fighters. Most of them, however, did not actually fight inside the country. They were refugees in India, while some were in other countries. They returned to Bangladesh in December 1971. Likewise, the then military government is believed to have officially registered about 100,000 people as razakars. Many of them, however, also helped the freedom fighters. Without their tacit approval, we could not have crossed highways or railway culverts during the Liberation War. That is based on my own experience.
In any case, beyond these officially recognised freedom fighters and registered razakars, there were tens of millions of other people. The overwhelming majority supported an independent Bangladesh. We might describe them as "non–freedom fighters." Sheikh Hasina herself is an example. She was not a freedom fighter. In 1971, she lived a normal life in Dhaka. Her husband worked regularly at the Atomic Energy Commission throughout the war. That does not make her a razakar. Nor would I call her children the children of a razakar.
The real question of principle is this: Why should the children and grandchildren of the overwhelming majority of "non–freedom fighter" families be subjected to discrimination through the quota system? Another point is worth considering. If someone fought in the Liberation War, what role did that person''s infant child, or a child born after the war, play in making their parent a freedom fighter? There are many other ways to express the nation''s gratitude to those who fought in the Liberation War.
As a result, a vast number of students joined the Anti-Discrimination Student Movement, most of them coming from families that had supported Bangladesh's independence but were not officially recognised as freedom fighters. They were soon joined in solidarity by people from other sections of society.
The authorities first unleashed activists from their affiliated organisations against the protesters and, at the same time, deployed state security forces. Protesters began to be killed. Rather than subsiding, the movement gathered even greater momentum. The death toll rose day by day.
On "33 July" (3 August), chants rang out from a student rally:
"Resign, resign—Sheikh Hasina must resign."
That is the course of history.
July has come again. Debate and scrutiny over July of 2024 continue.
* Mohiuddin Ahmad is a writer and researcher
* The opinions expressed here are solely those of the author.
* This column appeared in Bangla in Prothom Alo print and online and has been translated by Ayesha Kabir for Prothom Alo English Online
