Dhaka, Dar and dementia of history
Bangladesh gained its independence from an oppressive Pakistani rule after a bloody nine-month war in 1971.'
This is how bdnews24.com reported the news of Pakistan's Deputy Prime Minister and Foreign Minister Ishaq Dar's forthcoming visit to Bangladesh in February 2025. The tone and stance of many other media outlets in Bangladesh are not much different.
Mr Dar, who represents a nation marked by a chequered history and a continuation of missteps and insensitivities, is known for his expertise in finance. Accordingly, the primary agenda item disclosed so far - already being described in the national media as a "landmark" aspect of the visit - is the enhancement of bilateral trade relations. Amid the outbreak of such news, some news stories about the celebration of Quaid-e-Azam's birthday in Bangladesh in 2024 hint at a potential shift in ideology, marking the end of the anti-Pakistan, pro-India stance associated with Hasina's regime.
Inspired by the physician turned journalist and statesman Clemenceau's famous quote, "War is too important to be left to the generals", I once again, as a non-specialist stakeholder, dare raise my unrepresented views on the systemic neglect of the stranded Pakistani Biharis - or non-Bengali Urdu speakers who remain trapped in camp-like 7x7/6x6 cages since the fall of erstwhile East Pakistan on December 16, 1971. Devoid of rights, they endure extreme forms of mental trauma, inequalities and social exclusion. Betrayed by both the remnants of (West) Pakistan and Bangladesh, they are the unrecognised victims of history, foreign office negligence and media biases. They are disdained by nationalists, self-proclaimed liberals, human rights defenders and feminists, including eminent sensitive-hearted writers and poets. I have been wondering for the last two decades or so why a humanist like Faiz could not utter a single line about the classic tragedy of these unconditional lovers of an unbroken Pakistan. Their voices are not given any space in the conversations that dominate Pakistani mainstream media talk shows, led by highly paid 'independent and authentic' journalists, or in the new media cluttered with influencers. The donor community, which often champions democratic norms and minority rights, and the United Nations, regarded as the last resort for the wretched of the earth, have also failed them. Even political parties that masterfully market Islam, and the politics of the Gaza genocide, have turned a blind eye to their predicament.
Is it against the national interest of Pakistan to recall certain facts? Take, for example, the events surrounding the repatriation of Biharis stranded in Bangladesh. In 1991, Pakistani officials announced their government's decision to expedite the process. The Muslim World League (MWL) even called on Muslims worldwide to fund the return of the Biharis, estimating the cost at an enormous $300 million. Hopes were raised further in 1992 when a joint statement from the governments of Pakistan and Bangladesh promised a phased programme, starting with the airlift of 3,000 families. In preparation, the Pakistani High Commission, with the assistance of Rabita Bangladesh, began issuing identity cards to thousands of Biharis in Bangladesh. However, planes from Pakistan never took off. In 1993, about 1,500 Biharis, primarily women, marched in Dhaka, pleading with then Pakistan's prime minister Benazir Bhutto to fulfil the promise of bringing them home. In 1995, the head of the MWL clarified that the suspension of the repatriation programme was not due to a lack of funds. By 1996, then Pakistan's interior minister Naseerullah Babar opposed the repatriation of Biharis because of the likelihood of "undesirable activities" once repatriated. No ethnic group is perfect, and the very overlooked community is neither represented by MQM (all versions) nor responsible for any transgressions committed by any Urdu speakers. Alas, this has never been comprehended!
Phony philosophies contradicting the principle of diversity still dominate narratives. The phobia of demographic change needs scrutiny. Excluding us from post-Hasina Bangladesh's emerging narratives and pursuing ties without truth and reconciliation risks turning diplomatic optimism into deception and political impotence.
The harrowing testimonies of witnesses - detailing the brutalities inflicted by Awami League fighters and other insurgents in 55 cities of the former East Pakistan during March-April 1971 - on Biharis, other non-Bengalis and pro-Pakistan Bengalis, as recorded in Qutbuddin Aziz's Blood and Tears, have never been shared in media or included in the curriculum of universities, military or civil service academies. This absence reflects a significant gap in acknowledging and teaching this aspect of history. Perhaps it is not a good idea to read the texts, like Dr Safdar Mehmood's Pakistan Kiun Toota?, that clearly mentions how and when in places like Bhairab Bazaar, Bengali Muki Bahnis paraded Bihari women naked, raped and killed them in public; and after killing them, they would insert a wooden pole bearing the Bangladesh flag into their private parts. Ironically, the SGBV toward the women of my community have been skilfully marketed by Bangladesh in academia and politics as the mistreatment of their women. As a feminist, I maintain my position that the rape of one woman is too many. We women are often seen as collateral damage in all conflicts. My pen and podcasts never fail to recognise the oppression of Bengalis by West Pakistan's elites. But does this justify the wrath of 'freedom fighters' against unarmed pro-Pakistanis?
The consequences of decades of acrimony against an entire community extend far beyond anyone's personal suffering. If this deceptive dementia persists, it could instigate other liberators active in present-day Pakistan. It could also raise alarm, as they are witnessing that this community exists at a price, not a prize.
It is high time we either admitted or questioned the very foundation of Pakistan: was it created with the votes of these people, the 'Mohajirs', to provide them with a homeland and safeguard minorities? Or was it established for the vested interests of the loyal disciples of the colonial rulers? At the very least, we should ask our conscience: which country denationalises its own citizens who stood with it?