1971: The Forgotten Silence

Posted on December 9, 2009
Filed Under >Raza Rumi, History, Society
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Raza Rumi

This post is the third in our series on recapping the fall of East Pakistan in 1971. The previous two posts of this series can be read here and here.

Every year the sixteenth day of that deadly December invited little attention in the mainstream media as the new Pakistan struggles to manage the multiple crises of statehood, governance and cohesion.

Whether we like it or not, history and its bitter truths have to be confronted. When the united Punjab was being ruled by the Unionists and the Congress and the NWFP had a chief minister from the congress-Khudai Khidmatgar alliance, and almost all the custodians of South Asian puritanical Islam were opposed to Pakistan, the peasantry and the intelligentsia of East Bengal were spearheading a movement for Pakistan. There were indeed economic reasons, but there was an unchallengeable mass support for and belief in Pakistan. What happened after 1947 is well known; and within two decades or so, those who wanted Pakistan in the first place were subjected to state excesses and brutal treatment by the groups and elites that had actually little commitment to Pakistan or its idea. Nothing could be more ironical.

It is of little significance to remember the exact chronology of events or to indulge in a blame-game. The truth is that we as a state and society lost our majority province after pushing its people into a situation where independence through a War of Liberation was the only choice. India, of course, played a huge role in transacting this deal, but the West Pakistani elites had prepared the ground, sown the seeds of mistrust to a great degree. Thus the Pakistan created by its founding members was no more in 1971, further subdividing the Muslims of the subcontinent. A bitter lesson of history was in the making. If only, we were capable of paying heed to it.

What followed after 1971 was even stranger. After the ritualistic mourning and let’s say a dozen memoirs of former soldiers and bureaucrats, a meaningful silence echoed in the remainder of Pakistan, save a few, sporadic voices from the beleaguered intelligentsia. It was not until three decades later, and that too under a military dictator, that Pakistan made a feeble effort towards an apology of sorts. The same military ruler, Gen Musharraf, was bold enough to publish sections of the Hamoodur Rahman Commission report. Perhaps, it was too late. Many a younger generation had no clue, given that the Pakistani textbooks had little to say; and whatever was recorded was purely from a narrow, jingoist Indo-Pak rivalry perspective where all evil was to be located in the misdoings of the Hindu teachers in East Pakistan. A footnote, at best.

This is why we have hobbled from one crisis to another. We, simply, are reluctant to learn from the fiasco of 1971. That the principles of federalism are important for diverse societies to flourish, and that civil-military imbalances cannot result in healthy states are lessons ignored, at best sidelined in the unimplemented clauses of the Constitution or red-taped files of national commissions and committees. Above all, admitting that we had wronged our citizens by invading them, howsoever misled they may have been. Or, political questions cannot be resolved without political processes and consultative systems of governance. Alienation of the citizen from the state therefore reigns supreme, especially in the neglected parts of Punjab and in various corners of the smaller provinces.

This distance from the state among the ruled is now coming to haunt us. There is simply a void of services, of obligations outlined in the principles of policy of the Constitution and rights trumpeted as “fundamental.” The issues of import are as to which of the chief justices was right in favoring his progeny or if the appointments made by an acting governor are kosher or not. No introspection, no looking back or searching within the troubled folds of the body-politic?

The greatest legacy of 1971 and our collective, shameless silence is this utter lack of soul searching. The unprecedented existentialist crises of Pakistan are yet again being reduced to “foreign intervention.” If it is not the US, it is India and/or Israel. A country of 170 million cannot be hostage to an array of foreign intelligence agencies only. The rot in the state of Denmark needs to be looked at and accepted before correction. I am not arguing that foreign hands are not there or the geo-strategic imperatives of global and regional power-players are altogether absent. It is only when the fissures and cracks within a society move beyond the normal limits that foreign hands find it easy to exploit them for their self-interest. Nothing proves it better than the tragedy of 1971 – it was a collective, shared tragedy that has been underreported and under-played by the forces that perpetrated it in the first place.

The basic unresolved question of 1971–i.e., fair sharing of power between various centres of political influence–is alive in Jinnah’s Pakistan of 2008. True, that we have started the process of reclaiming civilian control of institutions but the process is fractured and fraught with the endless possibilities of reversal. Impatience with democracy and civilian institutions, now fuelled by an unregulated electronic media and the rendition of the entire country into a proxy war-zone, has put us back into the uncertain times.

Amazing, that despite the lapse of so many decades the right-wing is churning out the same diagnoses and solutions. The groups that were hankering for Bengali blood and crush-Hindu recipes are uttering similar diatribes. The information industry that was silent under censorship is reproducing the familiar tunes of jihad even when ostensibly free. Refusal to learn from history is surely our peculiar forte.

December, above all, reminds us that socio-political injustice cannot continue in perpetuity–it leads to grave consequences. It also faces us to restate that military might cannot be the only guarantor of our sovereignty and definition of nationhood. And, without a functional federal system, we cannot create a sense of belonging and move above ethnicity, tribe, sect, caste and biradari. Redistribution of power and fulfilling the mandates of a responsible state cannot be overlooked, nuclear prowess notwithstanding.

All is not lost. We have, at the end of the year 2008, a growing middle class, urbanised pockets of civic action, and fortunately a democracy of sorts. No foreign power has prevented us from reopening the issue of land reform, taxing the super-rich, investing in education and healing the festering wounds of Balochistan?

We ought to apologise to our Bangladeshi friends, and begin a new era of honesty. After all these years, what stops us from making Pakistan and Bangladesh visa-free countries for students and visitors and trade partners?

Let us begin to tackle history, for a change.

34 responses to “1971: The Forgotten Silence”

  1. Shirjeel says:

    All I would like to say here is that ‘whenever history repeats itself, there is always a price to pay’.

    I hope the people of Pakistan do not have to suffer again because of the follies of its leaders. I hope we can learn from our past mistakes. I hope we can feel remorse of our shameful actions of the past. I hope that we could invest in our people to bring them out of their abject poverty and sufferings.

    There are so many hopes that I am at the verge of losing hope that any of my hopes would be fulfilled.

  2. Ahmed says:

    @Hasan Ferdous. Thank you for your words. In 1971 I was just a child. My father had led a very tough life before I was born and had lost everything he had of worldly value and a big part of his immediate and extended family. when he migrated from India to Lahore, however I have never seen him cry before or since that fateful day in 1971.

    For me it was never a loss of land or part of my country it was more like a loss of a younger brother to a tragic accident. To drive this loss home even more, seeing my father in such a state was a great emotional and lasting trauma for me. I later realized that everyone else was like that back then as well. Even back then my wise father knew we could not blame anyone except ourselves. My personal emotional baggage from that time was a mix of betrayal and treachery born out of greed.

    Over time I have come to realize that it was something much more complex and yet at the same time something much more basic than that and we have just ourselves to blame for the outcome. And when I say we, I mean people on both wings of Pakistan. Having said that, more responsibility must be borne by the West Pakistan as it was the hub of power, which included the civil service, political and economic leadership, and obviously the military.

    There has been one point of consolation and a silver lining for me and that is the knowledge that my fellow Muslims of Bangladesh are now free to define their own destiny and have emerged as a sovereign, independent (in all senses of the word) , self confident and proud country. The people of Bangladesh have proven to the world that even with the burden of so much going against them on their back they are not a failure.

    I am more than consoled and happy with that thought. I want to move forward and hope one day to visit Dhaka and Chittagong.

  3. Raza Rumi says:

    Dear friends: many thanks for your comments. It is heartening to note that there are so many who are aware of our collective follies. I am happy that the government has started a process of healing the wounds of Balochistan. By default it has also accepted that we are also responsible for the mess there and blaming external powers all the time might not be enough..

    Thanks to ATP for publishing this..
    cheers
    RR

  4. Sridhar says:

    Thanks, Owais. Gardezi already pointed me to the fact. While I have heard the quote before, I had forgotten it and could not make the connection.

    I think all of us in the various countries of the subcontinent are guilty to varying degrees of being prisoners of the past. If we can use the past merely as a means to learn lessons for the future, all of us will be so much better off.

    There is so much to do in each of our countries. There are so many people who don’t even have the basic essentials that all humans should have as a matter of right – food on the table, shelter over their heads, safe water, education, healthcare, protection from exploitation, a humane and caring Government. We have the potential to make these available to all our citizens within a short period of time. But that will require us to look towards the future, and work hard towards achieving them. Instead, we seem to be enjoy wallowing in real and perceived wrongs of the past and doing nothing to improve our lots.

  5. Hasan Ferdous says:

    Thanks, Reza Rumi, for this very honest appreciation of the follies of 1971.

    As a Bangladeshi, I sometimes feel a natural antipathy to everything Pakistan. And yet, I love Mehdi Hasan, and Manto and, definitely Ayesha Jalal and Sabiha Sumer. And I love Lahore and its glorious food. There is no denying that this hate – love – hate is contradictory in nature. How could we resolve this? I think it should begin with the realization that what connects us all – Pakistanis, Indians and Bengalis – is not just what happened in the past fifty or sixty years, but the commonalities of many things that inseparably bind us – geography, language, culture and history spanning over the millennia, as well as our continuing struggle for peace and justice.

    There is an important element about 1971 that I feel very few Pakistanis understand and/or acknowledge. They invariably view 1971 as a loss – a tragedy – because they lost one chunk of their land. They, including the great Faiz Ahmed Faiz, always view 1971 in terms of their personal loss. How could this be a loss when they never owned this piece of land and the people that live there?

    What most Pakistanis fail to understand is that, for Bengalis, 1971 is actually a celebration. A victory, a bijoy. At the end of a long and arduous journey, they finally became free. They finally became masters of their own destiny. Only when Pakistanis learn to accept this simple fact and begin showing their solidarity with the dreams and aspirations of Bengalis will the healing truly begin.

    And yes, a simply apology for what Pakistan did to Bengalis in 1971 could be a good starting point.

    Hasan

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