Lajja

by Taslima Nasrin

  Kamal Bhowmik was the leader of the Students’ Union in Mirsorai in Chittagong. His house was set on fire and his aunt died in that fire. They set fire to the Hindu Colony in Kutubbodia and three children died. Surjomohon was burnt in a fire in Satkania Nathpara. ‘Those who kill at night are the ones who come during the day, show sympathy and say “My heart bleeds for you,”’ said Basudeb of Mirsorai, responding to those who asked him who had attacked their village. ‘It’s better that you shoot me,’ said Jatramohon Nath of Khajuria, when asked the same question.

  The non-communal political parties, the National Coordination Committee and the Joint Cultural Front had come together to form the All-Party Communal Harmony Committee after communal violence in Bangladesh had raged on for six days. The committee was finally created when the fires were dying. The committee had not thought of any programmes except a peace march and a public gathering. At the public gathering they were expected to raise the demand to ban the Jamaat-Shibir Freedom Party. Suronjon knew that the leaders of the Communal Harmony Committee would not spell out whether they would spearhead a movement across the country if the government did not ban the Jamaat-Shibir Freedom Party. Some members of the committee had been talking about action against those who took part in the destruction and plunder.

  ‘We know all the people who destroyed Shonir Akhara and burnt and plundered our homes. However, we will not file any cases. The Opposition parties were not able to prevent the attacks on us and so it is unlikely that they will be able to protect us after we file cases,’ said one of the victims of the attack on Shonir Akhara.

  Suronjon thought the politicians were well aware that people would hesitate to file complaints against the rioters. Their asking people to do so was little more than political tokenism. Democratic forces had not been able to come together swiftly and resist the communal violence that had broken out. The communal groups had appeared much better organized and efficient. There was absolutely no reason for the democratic political parties to feel satisfied because they had formed the All-Party Communal Harmony Committee seven days after trouble broke out. Many intellectuals too were content to point out that there had been fewer communal riots in Bangladesh than in India or Pakistan. Suronjon could not understand why they did not recognize that the Hindus in Bangladesh, unlike Muslims in India, did not retaliate. The violence was one-sided in Bangladesh. The Muslims did not suffer damages. In the three countries in the divided subcontinent—Bangladesh, India, Pakistan—the parties in power always joined forces with fascist communal groups for political expediency.

  Communal forces had gained strength in India, Tajikistan, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Algeria, Egypt, Iran and Serbia. They had just one goal—they wanted to destroy democratic forces. The German government had banned three fascist groups because they had burnt three Turkish women to death. Fundamentalist groups in India had been banned but it was difficult to say how long such a ban would be sustained. Algeria had banned fundamentalist groups. The Egyptian government was coming down heavily on fundamentalists. The communists and fundamentalists were fighting each other in Tajikistan. Had the Bangladesh government even once spoken of banning the fascist fundamentalist groups? Suronjon thought that it was highly unlikely his country would ever stop playing politics with religion.

  Thanks to the radical communal parties in India the ruling BNP government in Bangladesh had been able to divert the movement focused on the trial of Ghulam Azam along communal lines. The government was supported in this matter by the agility of the Jamaat-Shibir Freedom Party and other communal groups. The Jamaat-e-Islami had gained time by turning away the people of the country from the Ghulam Azam trial. The Combined Cultural Front was now chanting: ‘Bangladesh will stop the communalist rioters! O Bangladesh!’

  ‘Bangladesh the bastard! The offspring of swine!’ swore Suronjon as he smoked a cigarette. And he swore repeatedly. He felt rather good. He laughed out loud but the laughter sounded savage to his ears.

  Two

  Madol snuggled up to Kironmoyee.

  ‘Mashima, we’re going away to Mirpur,’ she said. ‘The ruffians won’t be able to go there.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Mirpur is very far away.’

  Madol had come to believe that all the ruffians lived in Tikatuli. They couldn’t go to Mirpur because it was far away. Kironmoyee wondered whether those who plundered, broke and burnt Hindu homes, and took away young women like Maya, were merely ruffians. They did not care whether people were Hindus or Muslims—ruffians attacked homes irrespective of the religious beliefs of the householders. It was not right to say that those who attacked and stole from people of a particular religion were simply ruffians.

  Sudhamoy was lying in bed. There was very little he could do except lie in bed. Sudhamoy wondered what was the point in being alive when one was totally useless and unable to move. This just added to Kironmoyee’s troubles. Kironmoyee could bear everything. She never gave up. She spent her nights crying and surely did not feel like lighting the stove to cook. Yet she went about her tasks. After all, hunger overrides all pain. Suronjon had given up bathing and eating. And Kironmoyee had also reached a similar situation. Sudhamoy too had no appetite. Maya wasn’t back yet! Was Maya not going to come back? If only he could give up his life and have Maya back instead! Couldn’t he stand at the head of the road and say, ‘I want Maya back. I have a right to have her back.’ Right—Sudhamoy felt that the word had become ghostlike in the present.

  In 1946, as a young man, Sudhamoy had asked for water at a sweet shop in Kalibari, after eating a sweet. He had used the Urdu word ‘pani’ for water. Tensions between Hindus and Muslims had been high in the city then. Some Muslims had looked at him sharply in the sweet shop. Sudhamoy had not been able to utter the Bengali ‘jol’. Was he afraid? It must have been fear. What else could it have been?

  The British had realized that unless they were able to destroy the unity and amity amongst Hindus and Muslims they would not be able to establish and persist with colonial rule and oppression in India. Their statecraft birthed the policy of ‘divide and rule’.

  ‘How was it possible?’ wondered Sudhamoy. ‘Ninety out of hundred farmers were Muslims but 90 per cent of the land belonged to Hindus! It was the question of ownership of land that had caused the revolutions in Russia and China and it was the same question that created conflict between Hindus and Muslims in Bengal. The conflict over land became a conflict about religion.’

  Supported by the British, it was in Bengal that the Muslim League was born in 1906, based on an ideology of communalism. This party was responsible for introducing the poison of communalism into undivided India. Of course, it isn’t possible to absolve the Congress of this responsibility either. For twenty-four years after 1947, the colonizing Pakistani rulers had wrested democratic rights from the people of what is now Bangladesh by raising the flag of Islam and keeping alive anti-India feelings. Sudhamoy had let out a sigh of relief when they had regained their democratic rights in 1971. However, this sense of relief did get choked quite often. After the Liberation of Bangladesh, secularism had been included in the Constitution as one of the four fundamental national principles. This was to be an impregnable barrier against communalism. Communalism came back in a new way after 15 August 1975. Communalism was aligned with violence, fundamentalism, religious bigotry and autocracy. Communalism imbued with ideological moorings was made acceptable to the bhodro or educated class. Before the creation of Pakistan, this theory was called ‘the two-nation theory’ and in Bangladesh, after 1975, they started calling it ‘Bangladesh nationalism’. People would now have to wash off a Bengali tradition of a thousand years and become ‘Bangladeshi’. Like Bangladeshi cattle, donkeys, paddy and jute, people were now ‘Bangladeshi’. In 1988, the words ‘the state religion of the Republic is Islam, but other religions may be practised in peace and harmony in the Republic’ were included in the Constitution of Bangladesh with the Eighth Amendment
. Why did they say ‘may be’? Why did they not assert it with a ‘shall be’? Of course, as far as fundamental rights are concerned, the Constitution says that the state shall not discriminate against any citizen on grounds of religion, race, caste, sex or place of birth. But what was the point in not acknowledging the existence of discrimination? After all, if there was no discrimination, why would they take Maya away? Why would ‘child/children of infidels’ be a term of abuse? Did ruffians say these things? What was happening in Bangladesh was not just ruffianly behaviour and lawlessness—it was something else. This other thing was intensifying—more madrasas than schools were coming up everywhere, the number of mosques was increasing, there were more Islamic programmes and more and more places were using loudspeakers to summon people to prayers. Most localities now had a mosque after every three or four houses and all the mosques had loudspeakers all around. The use of loudspeakers was strictly monitored during Hindu festivals. If loudspeakers were acceptable, then why were only Muslims allowed to use them? According to Article 18 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights adopted by the United Nations:

  Everyone has the right to freedom of thought, conscience and religion; this right includes freedom to change his religion or belief, and freedom, either alone or in community with others and in public or private, to manifest his religion or belief in teaching, practice, worship and observance. Everyone has the right to freedom of thought, conscience and religion; this right includes freedom to change his religion or belief, and freedom, either alone or in community with others and in public or private, to manifest his religion or belief in teaching, practice, worship and observance.

  If that was so, then why were Hindu temples being destroyed? Sudhamoy did not believe in temples, yet, he could not accept the fact that only Hindu temples were being destroyed. And was there going to be no punishment meted out? The state’s Penal Code says that culprits could be imprisoned for a year, or at best two years. Imprisonment for three years is considered very long.

  A malaise overcame Sudhamoy. A country was gradually slipping into illness. Bengalis had got their Liberation from the terrible grip of Pakistan after struggling for many years. A Constitution was written for a free country. It opened with:

  We, the people of Bangladesh, having proclaimed our Independence on the 26th day of March 1971 and through a historic struggle for national liberation, established the independent, sovereign People’s Republic of Bangladesh; Pledging that the high ideals of nationalism, socialism, democracy and secularism, which inspired our heroic people to dedicate themselves to, and our brave martyrs to sacrifice their lives in the national liberation struggle, shall be fundamental principles of the Constitution.

  In 1978, ‘struggle for national liberation’ was changed to ‘a historic war for national independence’. An insertion was made: ‘high ideals of absolute trust and faith in the Almighty Allah, nationalism, democracy and socialism meaning economic and social justice’. And ‘liberation struggle’ was changed to ‘independence’.

  The Constitution of 1972 was changed and the Constitution of 1978 began with Bismillahi rahmanir rahim—‘In the name of Allah, the most Gracious, the most Merciful’. Section 12 of the Constitution, the section entitled ‘Secularism and freedom of religion’, disappeared.

  12. The principle of secularism shall be realised by the elimination of

  a)communalism in all its forms

  b)the granting by the State of political status in favour of any religion

  c)the abuse of religion for political purposes

  d)any discrimination against, or persecution of, persons practising a particular religion

  The section on secularism was taken away and Section 25 (2) was brought in: ‘The State shall endeavour to consolidate, preserve and strengthen fraternal relations among Muslim countries based on Islamic solidarity.’

  Section 6 in the Constitution of 1972 said: ‘The citizenship of Bangladesh shall be determined and regulated by law: citizens of Bangladesh shall be known as Bangalees.’ Ziaur Rahman changed that to ‘the citizens of Bangladesh shall be known as Bangladeshis’.

  Sudhamoy felt everything darken. It wasn’t yet afternoon so why was the room dark? Were his eyes weakening? Or had his glasses not been changed for quite some time? Had he developed cataract? Or were his eyes flooding with tears and making it difficult for him to see?

  Suronjon had changed so much. He never spent any time with Sudhamoy. He had not stepped into Sudhamoy’s room since the day they took Maya away. Sudhamoy could occasionally make out that those gathered in Suronjon’s room were drinking alcohol. Was his son out to ruin himself? He had never before seen Suronjon drinking at home. Perhaps he was no longer bothered about anyone else. Was it possible that he had already forgotten Maya! Sudhamoy found that hard to believe, yet he was disturbed by Suronjon’s silence. Was his son hurtling towards doom?

  Three

  Suronjon had decided that he was not going out anywhere. Searching for Maya would not yield anything and so it was much better to stay at home. Whenever he was out, he had to listen to things like ‘These bastard infidels have broken the Babri Masjid. It is time we thrashed them and sent them to India.’ He was sick of listening to such comments. He no longer believed in any socialist party or leftist leader. He had heard many leftist leaders abuse him with ‘Bastard infidel!’ and ‘Child of an infidel!’ Krishnobinod Ray was called Kabir Bhai by everyone. Barin Datta had to change his name to Abdus Salam. If people had to change their Hindu names in the Communist Party, then which other party could one possibly trust! Or should he join the Jamaat? And greet Nizami with a ‘Huzoor, as-salamu alaykum’? This would lead to prominent headlines the next day: ‘Hindu Joins Jamaat-e-Islami’. Apparently the Jamaat-e-Islami got votes even in Jogonnath Hall and the reason for it was money. After all, if people were paid 5000 takas every month, why would they not vote for the Jamaatis? Suronjon wanted to avenge himself on the left groups who had driven him to despair instead of hope. Their members had, one after the other, joined different groups. They said one thing today and something else the next day. After the death of Comrade Farhad, a reading of the Koran and a gathering of the faithful were organized in the CPB office. The comrade had a grand funeral service. Why did that happen? Why did communists have to seek refuge under the flag of Islam? It was because they wanted to escape people’s censure for being atheists, wasn’t it? Did it help them in any way? Even after such obeisance, the oldest political party in the country was not able to gain the trust of people! Suronjon did not blame the people, he thought that the clueless leaders were to blame.

  The number of madrasas in the country was increasing. This was certainly an excellent plan to ensure that a country was crippled economically. It was probably Sheikh Mujib who had begun to ensure that madrasas spread to every village. Everyone seemed to have worked to ruin the country. It was difficult to understand the decline of this nation unless you saw it yourself—these were the people who had organized the language movement, these were the people who had fought the Liberation War in 1971! What happened to the idea behind the Bangalee nation? Where were the harmony and the consciousness that had said: ‘We the Hindus, Buddhists, Christians and Muslims of Bengal are all Bangalee’? Suronjon felt very alone. Very, very alone. It was as if he wasn’t a Bangalee—he wasn’t a person, he was merely a Hindu. He was a two-legged creature who had become an alien in his own land.

  This country has a Ministry of Religious Affairs. Last year, the ministry had had a rather appetizing budget. Suronjon thought that ‘appetizing’ was the best description. In the budget for tackling underdevelopment, there was a provision for aid for religious affairs. The Islamic Foundation of Dhaka was allocated 15 million takas. The waqf administration was allocated 800,000. Allocation for other religious objectives was 26 million. For the zakat fund administration it was 220,000 takas. The income from the Islamic Mission was 25 million. The fund for minority religio
ns was 250,000. Free electricity to mosques for 12 million takas. Free water supply to mosques for 5 million. Allocation for the Dhaka Tara Masjid was 300,000 takas. The total was 84,570,000 takas. The maintenance of the Baitul Mukarram Masjid was allocated 1.5 million takas. The allocation for intensifying and expanding training and programmes for productive work along with the allocation for underdevelopment was 109,338,000 takas. And within this the allocation for minority groups was only 250,000 takas. There were almost 25 million people belonging to the minority religious groups in the country and the total money allocated for them was 0.25 million takas. That was amusing, was it not?

  From the development funds 2 million takas were allocated for the production and publication of the Islamic Encyclopaedia in Bengali. The allocation for the Islamic Cultural Centre of the Islamic Foundation was 19 million takas. The publications, translation and research programmes of the Islamic Foundation were allocated 16,875,000. The programme for training imams and for the development of the Islamic Foundation library was allocated 1.5 million takas. The Mosque Library Programme got 2.5 million takas. Takas 15 million were allocated for expanding Islamic cultural centres and imam-training academies in the new districts. The total allocation for development was 56,875,000 takas. And then, 260,000 takas were distributed amongst all other groups under the subhead for other religions. Takas 500,000 were allocated for observing Islamic religious functions or festivals, and the allocation for development programmes of Islamic religious institutions was 2,860,000 takas. Takas 20 million were allocated for the repair, renovation and restoration of different mosques through the good offices of the honourable members of Parliament. The allocation for religious delegations visiting from other countries and such delegations going to other countries was 1 million takas. Takas 640,000 were allocated for subscriptions to international religious organizations. Takas 1 million were allocated for the rehabilitation of poor neo-Muslims. The budget of the religious ministry for 1991–92 had a total allocation of 166,213,000 takas, combining both the development and underdevelopment funds. The allocation for the rehabilitation of neo-Muslims was interesting. Takas 1 million were allocated under these funds but there was no allocation for minorities in the development funds. It was shameful that in a poor, multiracial, multicultural country people were being enticed to convert to a particular religion. The country’s economic backbone was broken. Had we even bothered to calculate how much the per capita burden of foreign debts was? In such a crippling economic scenario, how logical was such a large budget allocation for Islam? And the discriminatory allocations in the budget were destroying national harmony. Did no one ever think of these things? As Suronjon was mulling over the discrimination, Kajol Debnath entered his room.