The blood of our fathers

Kazi Ahad Kader

Photo-Syeed-Ahamed-2

The history of Bangladesh is sometimes portrayed as epic by description, and sometimes simply categorised as one of the many civil war movements of the 70s. Although many reading this, on a surge of emotions, would object to the latter half of that statement, the core idea here is not the debate. The war commenced in the first hours of March 26th 1971. Following years of economic disparities, political differences, military imbalances, language controversies, and countless unknown atrocities, the people of the then East-Pakistan took a stand against the continual oppression of its west-wing counterpart. These people were not trained soldiers, not mercenaries, nor civil activists. These were the oppressed who dreamed of a better life on their own land. Of having the liberty of one’s inalienable rights as a citizen of a nation they call home unconditionally. In the following nine months, war ensued on the shoulders of mass-genocide. Our fathers and for some, perhaps their grandfathers, fought the war for freedom.

On December 3rd of 1971, nearly 9 months into the war, India joins the war (in coalition with Mutki Bahini) after pre-emptive attacks by Pakistan take place at the Indo-Pak border. India “leads us to victory” in less than two weeks. Their triumph clouds and undermines the blood, sweat and tears shed by men and women in months of genocide that claimed over three million lives. Jubilation is rampant; the official statement by the Indian Military highlights the good will of aiding the struggle for sovereignty of the people of Bangladesh. Almost making it seem as if they had no personal interest by completely overlooking the attack by Pakistan on them (the only logical reason) that provoked them initially.

Before and at the time of war, the United States of America, as per pre-existing alliances with Pakistan chose to maintain allegiance. However, the US President Richard Nixon denied getting involved in the situation, saying that it was an internal matter of Pakistan (including West and East). But near the end when Pakistan’s defeat seemed certain, Nixon sent the USS Enterprise to the Bay of Bengal for assistance. This move was then deemed by both the Indians and the Russians as a nuclear threat. The USS Enterprise arrived on station on 11 December 1971. On 6 December and 13 December, the Russians dispatched two groups of ships, armed with nuclear missiles. A cold stand-off between the two saw no further military activity from either side. China remained somewhat neutral upon the subject despite being a long standing ally of Pakistan. The United Nations defined their attempts as a failure to provide political compromise before the start of war.

The reason why I included accounts of foreign involvement is to point out that amidst all this, we stood alone. Every other nation involved had their individual interest to protect. Average men and women of this country truly had nobody but each other. And after the war ended, we did receive immense amounts of donations and rations. That is something we can never deny, and we don’t. But those were for the people, the people who never really received them. Famine ravaged all that was left in the ruins of annihilation, and we have limped on ever since. The status quo have built dynasties by feeding over the backs of the people of this nation, and continue to do so (whichever side, take your pick).

Pakistan did not lose the war to India; they lost it to the brave men and women of Bangladesh. And so Lt. Gen A.A.K. Niazi’s “Instrument of Surrender” was to address the people of Bangladesh, and not Lt. Gen J.S. Aurora (regardless of irrelevant military conventions). Further, as a gesture of goodwill, nearly 200 soldiers who were sought for war crimes by Bengalis were also pardoned by India. Who were they to pardon the mass murders and ruthless rapes waged on Bangladesh, you may ask? We lost our men and women, and we can never undermine the importance of the death of the ordinary to those of the luminaries of this country. The loss of lives can never be weighed or glorified; each life lost in the war was equally as important. And as it stands, we still have nobody else looking out for us; what good is independence if we constantly find the need to question our freedom? How much was the blood of our fathers’ worth, if we let somebody else take credit to have won us the war? I will not ask you to avenge the sacrifice, everybody else already has that covered (It has become somewhat of an instrumental sentiment).

In our darkest moments, in our deepest troubles, in the face of uncertainty, and at the glimpse of hope, we stood virtually alone. But in time, we stood together; in our greatest triumphs, in our moments of belief, and in our struggles to stand our feet and not kneel on our knees. And even today, we need each other more than anybody else to become the country that we still dream of. Because the message painted on the wall with the blood of our fathers tells us that we were good enough; we are good enough; we the people of Bangladesh.

(This article does not intend to disrespect or blame people of any foreign country. To have perspective it is essential as well as important to understand that the military forces do not always necessarily represent a nation and its people, just like our politicians fail so often to represent us as a nation. I do not suggest any form of hate, but instead for us to see best within ourselves.)

————————————————
Kazi Ahad Kader is a social enthusiast. He writes from Texas, USA.

Source: bdnews24