Terms of inclusion: Exclusion and authoritarianism in Bangladesh

The bonhomie between nationalism and tyranny is not new to Bangladesh, nor indeed to the region.

A student upsurge in Bangladesh opened up old wounds, created fresh ones and eventually culminated in the toppling of the regime. Anarchy on the street, storming of offices and palaces, violent clashes between cadres of opposite camps, and indiscriminate police violence—in sundry odd ways, the script echoes neighbouring Sri Lanka, Egypt, Tunisia and Yemen in recent years.

Students chant slogans as they protest to demand accountability and trial against Bangladesh's Sheikh Hasina, near Dhaka University on August 12.(AFP)

Furthermore, it has enhanced minority vulnerability, caught as the minorities are, in the crossfire of political violence. Any event as cataclysmic as this warrants a short-term as much as a durée analysis, the interconnections between the two notwithstanding. The search for immediate causes points us to the horrors of incarcerations, disappearances and torture, suppression of political dissent on the one hand, and an impending economic crisis following the pandemic, income inequalities, developmental deficits and contending ideologies on the other.

Historical or long-term scrutiny could be useful in making sense of the present in relation to the unfolding of the past. What message does it hold for the neighbouring states—India and others?

The crisis of identity

Evidently, the current turmoil in Bangladesh is also a manifestation of the crisis of its national identity—an unresolved paradox regarding its self-definition—Bengali or Bangladeshi? What would be the place of religion in the national imagination? And what relationship would the Bangla nation establish with its religious, and ethnic minorities?

Historically it is observed that nationalism fosters both--inclusion and its contrary, exclusion. It goes without saying that nations and minorities are dissimilar outcomes of identical social and historical processes. The answer to the question, ‘who we are’ is frequently sought in what we are not—leaving the relationship between the two, very often, a fraught one. Acceptance of diversity as intrinsic to national imagination, attending to minority vulnerabilities, and emphasis on universal citizenship offer possibilities to overcome this divide.

Incidentally, the language movement which shaped the formative phase of Bangla nationalism too was spearheaded by the students and the intelligentsia. Besides calling for parity with Urdu, Bengali protagonists protested internal colonialism, Punjabi-Muhajir domination and the prevailing developmental inequity between the western and eastern wings of the country. Their six-point rallying cry, Amader bachar dabi (Our Right to Live), concentrated on measures such as regional autonomy, land reform, and nationalisation of industries, to correct the unevenness embedded in Pakistani social· and political structure.

The founding of Bangladesh in 1971, was also a moment for ideological turnaround. Language replaced religion as the fulcrum of the nation so imagined, and secularism was adopted as the guiding philosophy of the state. Liberation of Bangladesh symbolised a death blow to the two-nation theory—the idea that religious persuasions define a people and the polity.

Seemingly accommodative, the 'Bengalee nationalism' of Mujib produced its own minorities, those left out of the national imaginary. The newly formed Bangladesh was overwhelmingly homogeneous. Nearly 99% of the population were Bengalis, and 86% were followers of Islam (at present, 91% Muslims, 8% Hindus and the rest 1% followers of different faiths). The remaining, a minuscule one per cent who were not part of the Bengalee speech community, comprised the tribals inhabiting the hill tracts and the Biharis, the descendants of the Urdu-speaking immigrants.

A religion-neutral Bengalee national identity was inclusive of the Bengali Hindus, who saw themselves as co-founders of the newly liberated state. However, it ended up minoritising tribals and the ‘Biharis’. Referred to as Pakistanis or stigmatised as collaborators, the latter were at the receiving end of the Mukti Bahini fury during the liberation struggle, and to date remain, virtually stateless.

Bengalee versus Bangladeshi nationalism

Ideologically, Bangladeshi society remained fragmented between the linguistic and religious nationalists. Even at its zenith, those who saw themselves as primarily Bengali comprised not more than 60% of the population, the rest were unprepared to shed their Islamic identity. The torchbearers of religious nationalism were the ulama and political formations such as the Jamaat-i-Islami, the Muslim League and others. They were scornful of the liberation-struggle, and post-liberation, launched a campaign for 'Muslim Bengal' where only Muslims could be true nationals-a prescription for the extermination of non-Muslims.

Varying trends of competing nationalisms in Bangladesh are reflected in the making of the constitution too. Secularism and single symbol thrust on Bengaleeness in the national identity was in for a setback following the military coup in 1972. Secularism was replaced with the insertion of Quranic verses in the new Constitution and Bengalee substituted with Bangladeshi nationalism. The eighth amendment to the Constitution made Islam the religion of the state, adding to the anxieties of religious minorities.

Apparently identical, the 'Bengalee nationalism' of the Awami League and the 'Bangladeshi nationalism' associated with the BNP (the Bangladeshi National Party), differed markedly in terms of emphasis on language and culture, inclusion and exclusion of 'nationals' and 'aliens'.

Bengaleeness, consistent with Indian Bengal, accepted the entire heritage of the Bengali language and culture as its own. ‘Bangladeshi’ highlighted the cultural differences between the two regions by bringing in religion as the defining marker of the 'Bangladeshi nation' along with language. A whole state-led exercise in re-moulding of national history and language followed. Bengali language was infused with words from Persian and Arabic vocabulary — measures to revive the now obsolete Do-bhasha or the artificial measures to create Pak-Bang/a. The slogan 'Jai Bang/a'- was replaced with more Persianised 'Bangladesh Zindabad'.

Authoritarianism, nationalism and what lessons can we draw

Cultural nationalism, whether religious or non-denominational, invariably invests authoritarianism in the personality of the leader and the character of the state. National populism commands ultimate loyalty, and the state enforces it through the iron hands of law. Bangladesh is a test case in this regard.

The excessive dosage of Bangladeshi nationalism was the smokescreen behind which military rule and one-party authoritarianism sustained itself. The return of the Awami League in 2008 saw Bangladesh’s official nationalism reverting back to that of the liberation years through the 15th amendment to the Constitution. Once again, promoting ‘Bengaleeness’ became the leitmotif of the state, along with vague commitments to socialism, secularism and democracy.

Riding on the high tide of populist nationalism, the Awami League government under Sheikh Hasina set up the International Crimes Tribunal (ICT, 2008) to try and prosecute the enablers and collaborators of the ‘genocide’ that preceded the Declaration of Independence in 1971. It prompted students-led Shahbaug protests that demanded exemplary punishment for the accused, and the state honoured by executing some of the ‘collaborators’. The trial procedure was excoriated by civil rights organisations for its lack of procedural fairness. Besides, the ICT excluded the crimes of the Mukti Bahini against the Biharis and others from its purview altogether.

The bonhomie between nationalism and tyranny is not new to Bangladesh, nor indeed to the region. Sinhala-Buddhist nationalism in Sri Lanka excepted Tamils and Muslims and allowed President Mahinda Rajapaksa-led state to obtain unbridled power. Hindutva nationalism in India, riding high on anti-minority rhetoric, has recurrently revealed similar propensities. Intriguingly though, the present and the past of the region and the peoples, are closely tied. The imperative is to shape shared destinies.

Tanweer Fazal is a professor of sociology at the University of Hyderabad, India. He specializes in the sociology of nationalism, minority identities and collective violence in South Asia. His recent book is titled, Practices of the State: Muslims, Law and Violence in Contemporary India (2024). The views expressed are personal