A three-member judges’ panel headed by Justice Nizamul Huq directed the authorities concerned to produce Salauddin before the court on December 30 on the charges.

The tribunal also comprised Justice ATM Fazle Kabir and Justice AKM Zaheer Ahmed.

It passed the order after hearing a petition filed on December 15 by war crimes investigation agency for Salauddin’s arrest.

Chief Prosecutor of the tribunal Ghulam Arieff Tipoo later told reporters Salauddin would be held in detention until the agency completes probing the war crimes allegations against the lawmaker.

The prosecutor during the hearing prayed to the court to serve arrest warrant on Salauddin for the killings of Nutan Chandra Singh at Raozan in Chittagong on April 13, 1971 and 104 others.

He said the investigators and prosecutors gathered evidence of Salauddin’s involvement in killing and torturing innocent people particularly the Hindus in 1971.

Salauddin was allegedly involved in the killings of Nutan Singh, founder of herbal medicine factory Kundeshwari Oushadhalaya, and 35 people at Jagatmallo Para and 69 others at Unasattar Para in Chittagong during the War of Independence, he said.

Primary investigation shows Salauddin with the help of Pakistan occupation forces led the murders and tortures near his Goods Hill residence in the port city, the prosecutor noted.

If the BNP leader is allowed to move free, he might hamper the investigation and influence the witnesses, Tipoo said.

On December 16, law enforcers arrested the BNP standing committee member from Banani in connection with torching a car at Moghbazar on June 26. The arson left one person dead.

Salauddin’s lawyer Fakhrul Islam wanted to submit two petitions before the tribunal.

One of the petitions states Justice Nizamul Huq and Justice ATM Fazle Kabir have no constitutional jurisdiction to hold the office of judge of the International Crimes Tribunal, since they are the judges of High Court division of the Supreme Court.

Another petition claimed the investigation agency’s petition filed for the arrest of Salauddin had become ineffective since he was arrested on December 16 in a separate case.

The court, however, asked Fakhrul to submit the petitions through its registrar.

REMAND CONTINUES
Deputy Commissioner Monirul Islam of Detective Branch said they continued grilling Salauddin, as no court order was served to end his remand.

A fresh remand would be sought if necessary, as Salauddin was not cooperative with the interrogators, Monirul Islam said.

Salauddin has been on a five-day remand at the DB office on Minto Road since his arrest on December 16.

Source: <a href=”http://www.thedailystar.net/newDesign/news-details.php?nid=166661″>The Daily Star</a>

The prosecutors’ panel and the investigation team of the tribunal on Thursday made the request after submitting report on the progress in framing charges against Sayedee for his alleged involvement in crimes against humanity and mass killing during the Liberation War in 1971.

The court will hear the appeal on Dec 29.

Prosecutor panel member Mokhlesur Rahman Badal told reporters they had found evidence supporting the allegations against Sayedee, a Jamaat executive council member.

But, he said, they needed more time to get further information and more witnesses and so Sayedee was needed to be kept in custody.

Chief prosecutor of the tribunal Golam Arif Tipu and other key lawyers were present at that time.

On Nov 2, the judges’ panel of Mohammad Nizamul Haque, A T M Fazle Kabir and A K M Zahir Ahmed ordered Sayedee to be kept in detention until Dec 29.

The tribunal also asked investigators to report their findings on the allegations by Dec 23.

Syed Haider Ali, on behalf of the prosecution, on that day, appealed to the court to keep Sayedee held in the case.

Ali had said preliminary evidence of Sayedee’s involvement in various offences, including killing, arson and rape, in Pirojpur during 1971 had been gathered. “It’s necessary to keep him arrested for the investigation, which might be hampered if he is freed.”

Jamaat chief Matiur Rahman Nizami, secretary general Ahsan Mohammad Mojaheed, Mohammad Kamaruzzaman and Abdul Quader Molla are currently behind the bars as they are facing trial in the tribunal.

Senior BNP leader Salahuddin Quader Chowdhury has recently been shown arrested for war crimes charges under the tribunal.

CRIMES IN PIROJPUR

The tribunal’s investigation team in August and September after visiting Sadar, Zianagar and Swarupkathi upazilas of Pirojpur unearthed that Sayedee was involved in crimes in Pirojpur during the war, when some 5,000 people were dumped in 17 killing grounds.

Two cases were filed against Sayedee on Aug 12 and 31 last year with Pirojpur Chief Judicial Magistrates Court for genocide, loot and arson in areas inhabited by religious minorities. Manik Poshari, 65, filed one case, while Mahbubul Alam, 55, of Tengrakhali village under Zianagar Upazila, filed another.

Probe team chief assistant police superintendent Mohammad Helal Uddin on Sep 22 had told journalists: “We have gathered information about 29,906 people killed during the war at Parerhat and Zianagar. They were dumped in 12 locations of the district.

“Besides, at least 300 women were brutally tortured, while incidents of loot took place in 35 houses and 146 houses were put on fire,” Helal added.

After their previous visit in August, he had said: “We have got a lot of new information from the field work, which we did not find anywhere else before, not even in the case documents.”

Source: <a href=”http://bdnews24.com/details.php?id=182414&cid=37″>Bdnews24.com</a>

The International Crimes (Tribunals) Act was drafted in 1973 with some international input and well before the creation of the two ad hoc tribunals for the Former Yugoslavia and Rwanda, whose rulings have since clarified and expanded the body of international criminal law. The Act was later marginally amended in 2009.

The International Crimes Tribunal was established with a controversial amendment to Bangladesh’s Constitution in 1973. The amendment provides that a person charged with genocide, crimes against humanity, war crimes or other crimes under international law cannot challenge any law providing for their prosecution and punishment on the grounds that it is inconsistent with any of the provisions of the Constitution. That means the Act cannot be challenged on the basis that it violates basic constitutional rights that apply in other criminal proceedings. The constitutional amendment is fundamentally at odds with the rule of law, which ensures equal treatment of all persons before the law.

Five leaders of Jamaat-e-Islami are now in detention awaiting trial.  Two of them, Mohammad Kamaruzzaman and Abdul Quader Molla, recently sought to challenge this amendment along with some sections of the Act, arguing that they were inconsistent with the Constitution. According to the media, their challenge was rejected by the High Court on August 23, 2010, but there are also reports that in fact the application was withdrawn by their lawyers for reasons because the judges seemed to have prejudged the matter.

In an interview with the Crimes of War Project, Professor Suzannah Linton of Hong Kong University, the author of the first comprehensive examination of the legislation and rules of procedure, welcomed the “important international precedent” that is being set by Bangladesh in creating the ICT and thereby trying to achieve accountability.  But, she cautioned that the legislation as it stands is now well out of date and “runs contrary to its international obligations and the wider objective of the international criminal justice movement, which is not to bring about revenge, but justice.” According to Professor Linton, the most critical shortcoming of the legislation is its lack of adequate fair trial and due process safeguards.

The independence movement in the former East Pakistan, now known as Bangladesh, began in 1971 and was attributed to the concentration of political power in West Pakistan and perceptions in the East of economic exploitation. Rising malcontent and cultural nationalism in the East culminated in a violent crackdown by West Pakistani forces on March 25, 1971, known as Operation Searchlight. All major cities in the East were seized, political and military opposition were eliminated, and foreign journalists were deported. Almost a thousand pro-liberation intellectuals were systematically executed.

Although no systematic or comprehensive accounting was ever done, multiple large-scale mass graves have been uncovered around the country, and the popularly accepted figure within Bangladesh is that up to three million people were killed.

The conflict ended when India invaded in December 1971 and decisively beat the Pakistani forces in a matter of days, capturing 93,000 Pakistani troops. Bangladesh declared its independence shortly thereafter and Sheikh Mujib became the new country’s first prime minister. The West’s army had the support of many of East Pakistan’s Islamist parties. They included Jamaat-e-Islami, still Bangladesh’s largest Islamist party, which has a student wing that manned a pro-army paramilitary body, called Al Badr. It is these collaborators the government wants to try, not the main culprits in the former West Pakistan army.

The events of 1971 have been described as “genocide” within Bangladesh and in several international publications.

Article 2 of the 1948 Genocide Convention, which reflects customary international law, defines genocide as “any of the following acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnic, racial or religious group.” It does not include “political groups,” although that term was added to the definition of genocide under the 1973 Act.

Killing members of a political group as such is not the crime of genocide under international law. As Professor Linton explains, “the problem with the Bangladeshi addition of political groups is that this was one of the groups deliberately excluded from the ambit of the crime of genocide set out in the Genocide Convention. States that were engaged in the drafting process did not want their own people to be tried for genocide for the very common practice of targeting their political enemies.” It is notable that attempts to expand the definition at the Rome Conference for the establishment of the ICC were also defeated.

The International Commission of Jurists (ICJ), when it published its investigation into the events in 1972, stated that “to prevent a nation from attaining political autonomy does not constitute genocide: the intention must be to destroy in whole or in part the people as such. It can hardly be suggested that the intention was to destroy the Bengali people.” Yet the ICJ report does go on to say that particular acts may have constituted genocide against part of the Bengali people: “Where large numbers were massacred and it can be shown that on the particular occasion the intent was to kill Bengalis indiscriminately as such, then a crime of genocide would be established. There would seem to be a prima facie case to show that this was the intention on some occasions, as for example during the indiscriminate killing of civilians in the poorer quarters of Dacca during the ‘crack-down’.” The ICJ took a much firmer approach with respect to the Hindu population however, and in its view there was “a strong prima facie case that the crime of genocide was committed” against this particular group.

Professor Linton, as well as the War Crimes Committee of the International Bar Association, has pointed out that the definition of crimes against humanity in the 1973 Act misses important elements of the more modern definition, namely, the widespread or systematic nature of the attacks against the civilian population. In addition, the Act does not require that the offending actions be committed “with knowledge” of the widespread or systematic attack. The lack of a required nexus with an armed conflict reflects the current definition of crimes against humanity which emerged from modern ICTY jurisprudence, but not necessarily the law of 1971.

The two-tier “crimes in armed conflict” provision in the Act appears to mean war crimes.  It takes a form never seen before.  One section virtually mirrors that which appeared in the Statute of the International Military Tribunal at Nuremberg. But, the other section provides that violations of any of the hundreds of humanitarian rules that make up the four Geneva Conventions can be prosecuted as war crimes. In the Geneva Conventions treaty framework, only Grave Breaches of the 1948 Geneva Conventions constitute the international crime commonly called war crimes. Then, there is a provision providing jurisdiction over “any other crimes under international law”. These are clear violations of the principle of legality; the universally recognised requirement that criminal laws be clear and people are not prosecuted for what was not criminal at the time that the acts were committed.

The eight grave breaches of the Geneva Conventions are: (1) wilful killing; (2) torture or inhuman treatment, including biological experiments; (3) wilfully causing great suffering or serious injury to body or health; (4) extensive destruction and appropriation of property, not justified by military necessity and carried out unlawfully and wantonly; (5) compelling a prisoner of war or a civilian to serve in the forces of a hostile power; (6) wilfully depriving a prisoner of war or a civilian of the rights of a fair and regular trial;  (7) unlawful deportation or transfer or unlawful confinement of a civilian; and (8) taking civilians as hostages.

The Grave Breaches provisions, as incorporated into the Act, will only come into play if it can be established that an international armed conflict existed at the time of the crime. The early stages of the conflict can be characterised as a ”Common Article 3” situation, but as Professor Linton points out in her analysis, it is unclear as to whether customary international law in 1971 was such that individual criminal responsibility attached to violations of Common Article 3 of the Geneva Conventions. Nonetheless, she finds that it is possible to argue for the criminalisation of violations of Common Article 3 by 1971, in itself and by linking it to the fundamental general principles of humanitarian law which are undeniably part of the ”laws and customs of war,” violations of which constitute war crimes.

Increasing Indian involvement, particularly with regard to the country’s support and assistance of the Mukti Bahini who were fighting against the Pakistani Army, served to ”internationalise” the conflict. Yet the armed conflict could be said to have become of a truly international character with India’s invasion of East Pakistan in response to Operation Chengiz Khan, the pre-emptive airstrikes carried out by Pakistan  India on the evening of December 3, 1971. The Grave Breaches provisions of the Act would thus apply to serious breaches of the Geneva Conventions occurring from that point.

During the conflict, an estimated 200,000 Bengali women and girls were said to have been raped by Pakistani soldiers, including Punjabi, Pashto and Sindhi, with an estimated 25,000 allegedly forcefully impregnated and many held captive as sex slaves. And the Pakistan Army’s local auxiliary forces, known as the Razakaar and Al-Badr, are alleged to have used rape to terrorise, in particular the Hindu population, and to gain access to its land and property.

But crimes such as sexual slavery, enforced prostitution, forced pregnancy, enforced sterilisation or any other form of sexual violence of comparable gravity – which were codified for the first time in international law by the 1998 Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court – are excluded from the Act. The only mention of sexual violence in the 1973 Act is “rape” and it appears as a core crime within crimes against humanity. No definition of rape is provided. The definition in regular Bangladeshi law (which has been expressly ousted) is a conservative and limited one, restricted to sexual intercourse.

In the Akayesu case, the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda held that rape, which it defined as “a physical invasion of a sexual nature committed on a person under circumstances which are coercive,” and sexual assault constitute acts of genocide insofar as they were committed with the intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a targeted group – in the case the Tutsi ethnic group – as such. In this vein, in the case of Bangladesh, forced pregnancy could be argued to constitute not only war crimes or crimes against humanity but also genocide, if it was found to have been committed with the requisite intent to destroy in whole or in part a particular group – that is, the Bengalis – as such.

Aside from the legal issues surrounding such crimes, it appears that as things stand, the Tribunal will face considerable difficulties in persuading the victims come forward to testify. Sexual crime during the armed conflict has “always been politicised and has now become a nationalistic issue,” said Professor Linton.  But, as she points out, very few women have actually spoken out publicly to substantiate the appalling figures of sexual violence that are regularly cited.    Not only are there significant social constraints on women speaking out, but according to Dr Bina D’Costa of the Australian National University and human rights barrister Sara Hussein, who have examined the issue of redress for sexual violence before the Tribunal, there has been no consideration given so far to the approach the Tribunal should take and what its priorities should be for addressing sexual violence. And as Professor Linton points out, there is no provision on witness protection or support in the law, beyond one that provides that the Tribunal may take proceedings in closed session.

The Act’s shortcomings do not end there. Human Rights Watch has recommended the removal from the legislation of the death penalty as a fundamental violation of human rights. Arguably, it is also inconsistent with Article 35(5) of Bangladesh’s constitution which prohibits “torture, cruel, degrading or inhuman punishment or treatment.” The International Bar Association is concerned that the Bangladesh tribunal not follow the example set by the Iraqi High Tribunal, which ordered the execution of Saddam Hussein.

But the availability of the death penalty “ought not to be the focus of the international community” says Professor Linton. “Here, the priority seems to be a matter of making the process in Bangladesh meet basic, not five star, international standards.” Professor Linton has identified several provisions that fall well below international fair trial standards.  Among these, she is concerned about the bar to Constitutional challenges and the lack of defences available to accused persons such as the defence of ”superior orders” (this exists in the domestic law that applied in 1971 and today) and the lack of disclosure obligations on the part of the prosecution. There is no mention of the right to silence, the presumption of innocence, nor the standard and onus of proof. Furthermore, the Act and the Rules of Procedure and Evidence do not contain any provision affirming the right to have counsel during the critical pre-trial phase. As such, they do not require that the suspect be advised of his rights on being deprived of his liberty, including the right not to answer questions without defence counsel present.

Despite the existence of the requisite political will and civil society support for a justice mechanism to address past crimes and fight impunity, the process remains controversial and politically charged. Serious concerns about the fairness and independence of the process cannot be ignored. Professor Linton commends Bangladesh’s courageous attempt at bringing truth and justice to victims, but says that doing so should not involve a manipulation of the justice system to achieve purely retributive ends. “Victims deserve better than this,” she says, and it is up to the international community to support Bangladesh where possible in its struggle to legitimately meet popular expectations of justice.

Triggered by the civil war in Pakistan – pitting the West Pakistan army against the large Bengali-speaking East Pakistanis  demanding greater autonomy – India was swamped with 10 million Bengali refugees fleeing the crackdown in the east. Tensions reached a flashpoint when Pakistan President Yahya Khan ordered the attack on Indian air bases in Jammu and Punjab. In response, Indian Prime Minister Indira Gandhi declared war at midnight, December 3.

Thirteen days later, Pakistani troops under Lieutenant General Ameer Abdullah Khan Niazi, surrendered. In charge of Pakistan’s Eastern Command, General Niazi was blamed for the defeat and was removed from the army in 1975. Though the Hamoodur Rehman Inquiry Commission set up in Pakistan after the war – parts of the report were officially released in 2001 — had recommended his court-martial, General Niazi did not face a trial.

Three decades later, the 86-year-old and ailing General Niazi volunteered to face a court-martial to prove his innocence.

Born in 1915 in Balo-Khel, a village near Mianwali in the Punjab province of then India, General Niazi received 24 medals during his military service. He held various command positions: 5 Punjab during the 1965 war against India, 14 Para Brigade during operations in Pakistan-occupied Kashmir and Sialkot, and martial law administrator of Karachi and Lahore.

General Niazi, who passed away on Monday, spoke to India Abroad — the largest circulated Indian-American newspaper, which is owned by rediff.com — in December 2001. A rare interview conducted by Amir Mir.

The release of the Hamoodur Commission report has generated a fresh debate, with the public endorsing the recommendation for action against those army officers responsible for the 1971 debacle. How do you react?

I agree with the general public’s demand that those responsible for the East Pakistan crisis, especially the uniformed ones, should have been punished. Having returned to Pakistan after the debacle, I volunteered to face court-martial proceedings. But my offer was denied by the then army chief, Tikka Khan. He did not want the Pandora’s Box to be reopened. Any such action could have exposed the general headquarters’ inept conduct of war and Tikka’s role as army reserve commander. As a matter of fact, we were denied the right to self-defense before the Hamoodur Rehman Commission, which would not have been denied in a court-martial.

Under the Pakistan Army Act, you can cross-examine and call a witness in your support, especially when your character and reputation are at stake. Since such an opportunity would have exposed the GHQ’s own weaknesses, we were never court-martialed. Even otherwise, had there been a court-martial, I would have been exonerated quite easily. The commission had agreed with my contention that the orders for surrender were given to me by President Agha Yahya Khan.

Sam Bahadur: General Depinder Singh on the hero of 1971

You say the commission had agreed with your contention that the surrender orders were given by President Yahya Khan. But the report released by the Musharraf regime holds you and a few other generals responsible for the debacle.

If I was responsible for such a big tragedy, why was I not court-martialed, although Tikka was out to damage me? Being the army chief, Tikka cancelled two squares of borderland allotted to me in Kasur. In his January 1991 statement published in an English daily, Tikka had stated: ‘We even did not find any potential material against Lt Gen A A K Niazi, who surrendered to the Indian Commander, Lt Gen Jagjit Singh Aurora, because he had permission to surrender from Yahya Khan. But we did not take him back in the army and through an administrative action, retired him with normal benefits.’

You mean to say then President Yahya Khan was solely responsible for the fall of Dhaka and you were just following his orders?

No. Besides Yahya Khan, there were a few more personalities equally responsible for the East Pakistan crisis who have not been blamed in the report. The commission did not unravel the whole truth about various personalities and factors, which fuelled the separatist movement in East Pakistan and caused the final break-up of Jinnah’s united Pakistan.

The report concludes there was no order to surrender. However, ‘in view of the desperate picture’ painted by you [being the commander of the Eastern Command], the higher authorities only gave you a consent to surrender, and that too, only if necessary. The report says that you could have disobeyed such an order if you thought you could defend Dhaka.

I swear on oath that I was given clear-cut orders from Yahya to surrender, but still I was determined to fight till the end. I even sent a message that my decision to fight till the end stands. However, General Abdul Hamid Khan and Air Chief Marshal Rahim rang me up, ordering me to act on the GHQ signal of December 14, 1971 because West Pakistan was in danger. It was at this stage that I was asked to agree on a cease-fire so that the safety of the troops could be ensured.

However, I still believe that had a counter-offensive been launched by the Pakistan Army Reserves, composed of two armored and three infantry divisions, Pakistan would have remained united and the war results would have been much different.

What do you say about the commission’s findings that your troops in East Pakistan indulged in loot, arson, rape and killings?

Immediately after taking command in East Pakistan, I heard numerous reports of troops indulging in loot and arson, killing people at random and without reason in areas cleared of anti-state elements. Realizing the gravity of the situation, I approached my bosses through a letter dated April 15, 1971, informing them of the mess being created. I clearly wrote in my letter that there have been reports of rapes and even the West Pakistanis are not being spared. I informed my seniors that even officers have been suspected of indulging in this shameful activity.

However, despite repeated warnings and instructions, the respective commanders failed to curb this alarming state of indiscipline. And this trend definitely undermined our troops’ battle efficiency.

How do you justify your failure as a military commander and do you accept responsibility for the Pakistan army’s humiliating surrender in East Pakistan?

Our 45,000 troops were fighting against half a million Indian troops, lakhs of Mukti Bahinis (Bengali freedom fighters supported by India) and a hostile Bengali population. I actually needed around 300,000 troops to simply combat insurgency. By that time, we were already cut from the base but still fighting without any respite.

If Hamood thought we were on a picnic, he should have joined us. Let me make it clear that the army fought bravely under my command in East Pakistan. However, it was an unabated power struggle, which finally led to the 1971 debacle, especially when the barrel of the gun blocked the transfer of power.

The 1971 imbroglio was the outcome of an unabated struggle for power between Yahya, Mujib (founder of the Awami League, Sheikh Mujibur Rehman) and Bhutto (former Pakistan prime minister, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto). Yahya wanted to retain power while Bhutto wanted to attain it. This was despite the fact that Sheikh Mujib’s Awami League had emerged victorious and he should have been handed over the government. Bhutto’s fiery speeches were not mere rhetoric, but the actions of a desperate man vying for power at any cost. Had power been transferred to Mujib, Pakistan would have remained united. However, it is pity that the commission absolved Bhutto of any blame.

‘The troops were excellent, but the Pakistani leadership was very poor:’ General Kuldip Singh Brar on the Bangladesh war

The commission recommended that a coterie of generals be publicly tried for the 1971 debacle. However, General Tikka, Sahibzada Yaqoob Ali Khan (former commander of Eastern Command) and Rao Farman Ali (advisor to Niazi) were exonerated. Were they were innocent?

I don’t agree with the commission’s act of exonerating these three. It is surprising that no responsibility for the break-up of Pakistan has been apportioned to Tikka, Yaqoob and Farman. In fact, Yaqoob’s inaction as commander of the eastern command resulted in aggravating the situation in East Pakistan. Having messed up everything, Yaqoob deemed it fit to desert his post and resign, while taking cover behind his conscience. He should have been sent to the gallows for betraying the nation. Yahya demoted him. However, Bhutto restored his rank and sent him as ambassador to the USA. What a prize for desertion!

The Hamoodur Commission exculpated him, thus paving ground for officers to resign instead of fighting out the enemy, whenever a difficult situation develops. Similarly, Tikka has not been mentioned in the report, although his barbaric action of March 25 earned him the name of butcher. The commission overlooked his heinous crimes.

As far as Rao Farman is concerned, he was in-charge of the Dhaka operations.

Why didn’t the Bhutto government make the Hamoodur Report public?

Bhutto was afraid of making it public given the fact that he was equally responsible for the circumstances that finally led to the dismemberment of Pakistan. A sub-committee of seven Bhutto aides was permitted to have a glance at the report. The committee recommended that the report should not be made public. Bhutto later used his powers to modify 34 pages of the report.

You insist that the Hamoodur Report is faulty, partial and influenced by Bhutto. On the other hand, no one in the corridors of power seems ready to court-martial the generals responsible for the Dhaka debacle. With this in mind, do you have any solid suggestion to bring the culprits to task?

To find out the truth about the 1971 debacle and punish the guilty, it is essential to appoint a new commission with wider terms of reference. This exercise should be presided over by the chief of army staff. Two syndicates should take part.
It would be a very interesting exercise, with many useful lessons to be learned. A military exercise should also be held to find out how and why the small, tired and ill-equipped eastern garrison completed all the given tasks under the worst possible conditions against overwhelming odds, and why the western garrison, with enough forces and resources and having the initiative, failed and lost 5,500 square miles of territory in less than 10 days under conducive conditions.

After my return to Pakistan from Indian captivity in 1974, while preparing my report on the East Pakistan debacle, I heard persistent hints from GHQ sources that the Eastern Command had been sacrificed according to a detailed plan, and that its senior commanders were made the scapegoats for the loss of East Pakistan. My initial doubts turned into conviction when, over the years, I pondered over this episode and discussed it with people who knew that the GHQ Eastern Command had been deliberately cheated, tricked and misled as part of a grave conspiracy by the high command.

In fact it was so obvious that even the Indian Major General Shah Beg Singh told me, “Your goose is cooked, sir. They have decided to put the whole blame on you and your command for this episode.” I am therefore convinced that the fall of East Pakistan was deliberately engineered.

Can you substantiate your contention that the East Pakistan debacle was deliberately engineered?

Yahya and Bhutto viewed Mujib’s victory in the 1970 election with distaste, because it meant that Yahya had to vacate the presidency and Bhutto had to sit in the Opposition benches, which was contrary to his aspirations. So these two got together and hatched a plan in Larkana, Bhutto’s hometown, which came to be known as the Larkana Conspiracy. The plan was to postpone the session of the National Assembly indefinitely, and to block the transfer of power to the Awami League by diplomacy, threats, intrigues and the use of military force.

Connected to this conspiracy was the ‘M M Ahmed plan’, which aimed at allowing Yahya and Bhutto to continue as president and prime minister, besides leaving East Pakistan without a successor government. After the announcement of the date of the assembly session (to be held at Dhaka), there was pressure on the politicians to boycott it. The reason given was that East Pakistan had become a hub of international intrigue, therefore, it should be discarded.

In the end, this clique achieved its aim.

Don’t you think that the time has come for India and Pakistan to shun their differences and enter into a peace dialogue for the betterment of the masses?

We should never trust India. Successive Indian governments have never reconciled to the idea of a strong Pakistan and have always tried to weaken our country. Previous records show that India has always damaged Pakistan. Whenever they get a chance in future, they would never spare Pakistan. Even now in Kashmir, India has more than hundreds of thousands of troops, killing innocent Muslims in the name of fighting militants.

Even otherwise, Pakistan cannot enter into a peace dialogue with India until and unless the latter gives a commitment to resolve the Kashmir dispute in accordance with United Nations resolutions.

If given a chance, would you like to play a role in the ongoing diplomatic efforts for a peaceful settlement of the Kashmir dispute?

No. I would rather prefer to be even with India. Though I am too old to fight now, I am still ready to command Pakistani troops in Jammu and Kashmir to fight Indian troops.

Source: http://www.rediff.com/news/2004/feb/02inter1.htm

March 23, 1971: Journey to Sylhet:
I just came to pick up my sister who was a medical doctor at the Dhaka Medical College Hospital (DMCH). While entering the building, I met Tajuddin Ahmed, Molla Jalaluddin, Obaidur Rahman and few other Awami League (AL) leaders. They came to see some wounded AL supporters at the DMCH. I knew Tajuddin and Molla Jalaluddin. I met them in Rawalpindi and Lahore in 1969 during Ayub’s Round Table Conference (RTC). I asked them about the progress of their dialogue with President General Yahya Khan. He did not show much enthusiasm, and instead asked me about my well being. I went to my sister’s (Apa) room. She was not there. I met a class friend of mine, Shohidul Huq, who was a Medical Representative at the time. Now he is a big businessman. He is a good soul, always very friendly, helpful and forthright. When Apa came to her room, Shohid advised her to send her kids to Sylhet to avoid any likely trouble if ‘dialogue’ fails. Shohid had always been very close to Obaidur Rahman and he assured that he would let us know the latest developments. Apa was worried as she had two small kids, Sayyied, an infant and Lubna, a toddler. Now Lubna is a mother and a financial consultant. Their father, a young promising surgeon, Humayun Kabir (31) died in a car accident in Khulna in June 1970 when Sayyied was an infant. Now Sayyied is the General Manager of the ETV television channel. Expatriates like me are thankful to Sayyied and his boss, A. S. Mahmud, Chairman of the ETV as their private TV channel did a wonder… it facilitated us to watch Bangladeshi news, dramas, cinemas, and life of Bangladesh even from abroad, for example, Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. The ETV news is objective and therefore very popular. Due to ETV, the cable sales has gone up significantly especially amongst its 900,000 Bangladeshi expatriates and many in Riyadh would ask you to join dinner parties after the 8 O’clock news of ETV [Dhaka’s 11 PM is Riyadh’s 8 PM].

We left for Sylhet on 23rd March 1971. My immediate boss, a Pakistani did not allow me leave of absence. However, I just vanished and reported to work on December 19, 1971 from Guwahati (India)… This does not mean that I was always in India during this long 8 months and 26 days. In fact, I mostly lived within then East Pakistan during the war of liberation and went through the horrors and tension of the occupation army.

On 26th morning when there was no ‘Radio Dhaka’, we knew that the situation went wrong. However, reports of massacre in Dhaka reached to us on 27th morning…. More details came on 28th. On 28th March we first listened the voice of Major Ziaur Rahman from the clandestine radio who in the name of ‘Sheikh Mujib’ announced that the Bangladeshis are at war with Pakistani occupation forces [Ami Major Zia bolchi…Jatir Mohan Netha Sheikh Mujibur Rahman er na-mee ami swadhinotha gushona…].

On 2nd April, we heard sounds of fire exchange at night. The following day, we learned that when the Pakistan army asked the Bengali jawans to surrender their arms and ammunitions, they refused at the Telikhal BDR camp and therefore, there was an exchange of fire. The martial law government imposed curfew and therefore, it was difficult to gather information.

April 4, 1971: A Historic Day for Sylhet:
On this day, the independence movement started in Sylhet town from my house. On that morning I went to see my friend, Shabbir Ahmed, formerly VP of Sylhet M. C. College Chattra Sangshad and Chattra League. He was a very close friend of mine. East Pakistan Governor Monayem Khan barred Shabbir from studying in any of the colleges of the province as he threw his sandal at the podium of President Ayub Khan at a meeting at the Sylhet Circuit House. I requested many people including Dr. AKM. Rabbani, then DC of Sylhet, Minister Abdus Salam, Police Chief Kazi Anwarul Huq, then Chattra League leaders Fazlul Huq Moni and Abdur Razzaque, et al to release him from jail but in vain. We employed Advocate Chowdhury ATM Masud [later Justice and Chief Election Commissioner] to get his bail. Finally, Zamir Ali, a NSF leader of S. M. Hall managed to get him released. When Bangladesh was created, he became a JSD leader. Later he went to England to do CA and settled in Cambridge (UK). While we were talking, suddenly I was informed that firing started in my locality, Dhupadigirper. I rushed to my home but could not proceed further. There were none on the road, the rickshaw puller was afraid to move. I got down and walked fast. When I reached my house, the main gate was locked. I somehow managed to enter. On entrance, I saw 10/12 Bangladeshi BDR jawans in our compound. They have taken positions. They assured us and asked me to get a barricade erected near the Agricultural Office, 20 yards from my house. We did erect the barricade. My parents were afraid and my father reminded me that the military government had declared that if any barricade were erected in front of the house, they would demolish the house. We heard that a young Punjabi, a body builder, who works at the nearby United Engineers (Aslam Co.) had been shot dead earlier.

Soon a military van came and stopped near our gate. It was about 3 PM in the afternoon. This is the military’s announcement van. Our house is located between two roads, one leading to Tamabil known as Sylhet-Shillong Road and another to Jatarpur-Chalibander area and therefore, it was easy to see even the Banderbazar, 1or 2 kilometre from home–very strategically located. When the road was built, my grandfather, Khan Bahadur Abdur Rahim then a SDO donated the land for the road and my father’s maternal uncle, Abdul Hamid, a member of Assam Legislative Assembly was a big leader, a powerful Minister and a Speaker of the assembly.

As soon as Sikander, the announcer, started announcement of curfew, the valiant BDR fighters opened fire. But the van escaped. After it left, we knew that the Pakistani army would arrive soon. Therefore, we started putting up all sorts of barricades in our wooden doors and glass windows. We put up piles of bookshelves, tables, chairs, and mattresses. The bookshelves were very heavy…bookshelves of bounded law books/documents belonged to my father who was a lawyer. Very interestingly, God gave us enormous strength to move those heavy bookshelves at the time. I wonder how we did that. They saved us from bullets. We found so many bullets inside the pages of those books and voluminous documents later.

Within 20 minutes, two armoured vehicles came. A few soldiers got down nearly 40 yards from our home and started walking forward by the roadside. Soon they started shooting and it continued for hours. Mortar shells demolished the walls of our home. The handle of the easy chair on which my father was seated suddenly hit and went away. But miraculously, he was unhurt. We lay down on the floor. The sun was setting and the house appears to have caught fire. By 8 PM the shooting stopped. The BDR and the Pak army left. We could see couples of roadside shanty stores burning. There was not a single human being around. All was very quiet. We were extremely tired and exhausted. I don’t know when I slept on the floor. At midnight, I wake up as rainwater was falling on me. Then we could realize that the rooftop of the house had been blown away at the mortar attacks. Before dawn a couple of people showed up and they were surprised as we were still alive under the debris. Soon we decided to escape. We went to our neighbour’s house, Abdul Mannan Chowdhury, a businessman. He is originally from Karimganj, India. Two of his brothers were politicians; one was a member of the Indian Lok Sabha and another in the Assam Assembly. Mr. Chowdhury was a staunch supporter of Ayub Muslim League and his best friend, Ajmal Ali Chowdhury was Ayub’s Minister for Commerce and Industry. Mannan family also was surprised to see us alive. None could ever think that we could survive such an onslaught and barrage of bullets. I have also never seen Sikander, the announcer since that day.

By 8:30 AM, the whole area was crowded with thousands of people. There were two dead bodies. It was difficult to identify them as foxes have eaten them up. However, they had khaki uniforms. When we went back to collect money and ornaments from our house, we found people were looting our stuff. It was very sad. Before dawn when we left we did not take any money even. By 9 AM, we saw a Pakistani jet came and strafed the area. People vanished… Many dived into the waters of Dhupadighi, a lovely pond [now most of it is filled up to erect shanty stores]. Soon we saw, two more jets come and dropped bombs. We thought our Kitchen, separated from the main house, the 1st Muslim League Office of Sylhet, was on fire [when my father joined All India Muslim League and started organizing it in Sylhet, he had to leave his parental home, named ‘Shaheb Bari’ in Raynagar as his father was an SDO, a British Civil Servant. Initially, our kitchen was only built and it soon became the Muslim League Office as he was its Secretary]. As jets started coming and coming again, we all ran out and finally could not proceed further as shooting started all around us. We settled at a ‘lakrier dum’ or store for fuel-woods near Howapara, nearly 1.5 miles away from our house. There was no bathroom and no food. Infant Sayyied and Lubna were crying.

However, by afternoon we could reach Zindabazar at our maternal uncle’s house, Dr. Syed Shah Anwar Chowdhury. We had a good meal after 24 hours and we could listen to the Indian and the BBC radio as well. We observed that the world was still functioning and normal although last night, we thought ‘everybody died’!! Since our uncle was a strong supporter of AL, we decided to move out of his house and later, we settled at the house of Mohammed Ishaque, another uncle (Fufa) at Howapara, Sylhet. He was a retired government official, a Muslim Leaguer and he had a neat and lovely bungalow.

The whole of Sylhet by the time was liberated. When I was going back to my house to release our chicken, pigeons, cows, dogs, I met a few prisoners that were just released from the Sylhet jail. There was great relief as well as uncertainty. When I reached my home, I reflected on my father’s saying. He said before leaving home, ‘Pakistan was created in this house and its destruction started from here. Ayub Kha, Yahya Kha, Tikka Kha, Choto Kha, Boro Kha — none fought for Pakistan. They have no love for the country. They destroyed our dream…’ In fact, our home was the first Muslim League Office of Sylhet. My father who was very active in the Indian independence movement especially Pakistan was fully devastated. He quit his college when Gandhi called for ‘non-cooperation movement’. However, his father who was Deputy Commissioner in Guwahati at the time forced him to finish his BA, MA and LLB. During Sylhet referendum through which Sylhet was included into Pakistan, my father was its Secretary and our home was virtually the Sylhet Referendum Committee Office. His maternal uncle, Maulvi Abdul Hamid was a Minister in the Assam and a senior Muslim League leader. The President of Sylhet Referendum Committee was Maulvi Abdul Matin Chowdhury (Khola Miah) and he used to stay in our house as his house was away from Sylhet town by 10/15 miles [on those days it was very difficult to travel]. Many political leaders of undivided India, for example, Maulana Akram Khan, Sadre Isphani, HS Suhrawardy, AK Fazlul Huq, Abul Hashem, Maulana Bashani, Abdur Rab Nisthar, Maulana Sahul Osmany and young political workers like Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, Fazlul Qader Chowdhury, Molla Jalaluddin, Hamidul Huq Chowdhury, Mahmud Ali, Abdus Samad Azad, Dewan Farid Ghazi, ATM Masud (later judge & Chief Election Commissioner), Sarequm Abdullah, Dewan Abdul Baset, Syed AB Mahmud Hussain (later Chief Justice), Moqbul Hussain, Tassadduq Ahmed Chowdhury (UK) et al spent days in this house … meetings after meetings were held beginning 1940 in organizing Muslim polity, referendum and Pakistan. It is an irony that, the Pakistan occupation army destroyed this house, a virtual symbol of Pakistan and Referendum. Alternatively, the struggle for sovereign Bangladesh started first in the Sylhet town again from the same house that achieved independence of Sylhet from the British Raj, 24 years ago. Freedom fighter, Al-Amin Chowdhury, Bir Bikram, once thus stated, ‘this house is our national pride as Mukti Juddo was launched from here’. He was very much saddened to see that it was transformed to a poly clinic at the time.

Soon we moved out of town and went to Fulbari, 10 miles from the town. We took shelter at the houses of two brothers, Mugoi Miah and Luboi Miah Chowdhury, close friends of my father and also relations of ours. Many families like us, for example, the Regional Manager of Pakistan State Bank (Sylhet) and his family took shelter in the same house. Nearly hundred people took shelter. Our hosts were great and they did their best to keep us comfortable and well fed. In fact, we enjoyed our stay and their hospitality. We used to spend our time either by playing carom-board or other indoor games or listening to the radio, Bangladesh Betar, BBC and Akash Bani. During the war, M.R. Akther Mukul’s “Choram Patro” was our most favourite radio program and it used to uplift our hopes and spirit. We met Dewan Farid Ghazi, the elected member (MNA) and Chief of Sylhet AL party when he visited us. He came to see my father. The Akash Bani, the Indian radio in its national news reported that my father, Abu Ahmed Abdul Hafiz, a very senior Muslim League leader, President of Sylhet District Bar Association and formerly Secretary General of the Sylhet Referendum Committee was killed by the Pakistan army when they attacked his house. Actually, our house was destroyed but my father escaped unhurt; but Abdul Hafiz, a colleague and a namesake of my father, was killed by the Pakistan army. Dewan Farid Ghazi reported that Dr. Shamsuddin Ahmed, Principal Sylhet Medical College and Civil Surgeon of Sylhet were shot dead by Pakistan army. We were very saddened at the news. Dr. Ahmed was a very fine man. His wife, Hosne Ara Chowdhury, Principal of Sylhet Women College, was very close to us. His two sons and daughters are now living in the U. S. His son Dr. Ziauddin Ahmed of Philadelphia and Mr. Tareq Ahmed of Connecticut are actively involved with the Bangladeshi community welfare.

At Fulbari, my sister helped deliver a baby to the wife of Dr. M. Samad Chowdhury, a Professor of Sylhet Medical College. He also took shelter like us. That baby must be a grown up person now!

April 20, 1971: The Day of Humiliation:
Around 9 O’clock in the morning, the Pakistan army launched a campaign against the Mukti juddah that were organized in Fulbari. It is known as the famous ‘Baitikorer Juddo’. It lasted for hours. When the war was over, the Pakistani army arrested us and took us away. However, they released the old ones including a local doctor who was nearly 80. They kept us and started asking me questions, one after another. They brought us to a school near Ronikhail. They ordered me to get undressed and checked my penis to ascertain whether I am a Muslim [as if, if you do not have circumcision then you are not a Muslim] and made sarcastic remarks. One young person being afraid fled away and he was shot. As I wanted to help, they beat me mercilessly. We were kept on the roadside [Fulbari-Badeshor-Karimgonj road] in a kneel-down position for the whole night. It was cold and at times drizzling. But we had to endure the tortures, as we were Bangalees by birth! It reminded me Poet Nazrul’s poem titled “Fariyad”…’a noyeh thobo bidan… sontan thobo koriche az thumar osamman, Bhogovan, Bhogovan’ [it must not be Your rule that we would only suffer…Your sons are dishonouring You, my Lord].

The following morning, a young officer, Major Rob ordered us to march with them. They kept us in the front line and asked us to show them Mukti, Awami League and Hindu houses. Since I never lived there, I argued. It did not help. Instead, they got mad and cut my wrist with a bayonet. Those marks of tortures are my pride of liberation movement and they vividly remind me of my duty to my motherland.

We led five columns of army, three on the main road, two off the road. If there were any habited locality, they would fire the big gun to get response. If there was no response, we proceed. We did this for the whole day in wretched condition, no shoes, no sandals, no food, and no water. As I objected, they beat me again and in the process, I believe, I lost consciousness. When I was on my senses, I found myself in front of Lt Col. Sarfaraz Malik, the commanding officer. He asked me a variety of questions. He commented that ‘You are an Awami Leaguer, a Mukti’. He said, he had my photograph among the demonstrators in Sylhet. I challenged him and explained to him that I was living in Rawalpindi during 1969 and 1970 and I just came to Sylhet only on March 24th. He asked many questions on my stay in Rawalpindi and by miracle, he found that I was close to his cousin who was a teacher at the Rawalpindi Women College. I knew the names of his nieces and nephews. Finally, he released me and said, he would visit my parents.

He dropped me at Fulbari and said, he would come back tomorrow. When the villagers saw army vehicles, they all were afraid. They ran for their lives. However, I returned alive and my mother started weeping. On the following day, photos of Jinnah, Liaquat, Ayub and General Yahya were hung up and Pakistani flags were hoisted atop each villa out of fear. All green coloured lungis were torn apart to make flags. I cannot forget the debate between Luboi Miah (Luban Ahmed Chowdhury) and his son, Saniath Jamshed Ahmed Chowdhury. Saniath, a fresh graduate from the Dhaka University would like to keep his personal photos of 1969, some with Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib; many of which were the hallmarks of Bangladesh history and 1969 mass movement. His father being afraid of the army wanted to destroy them all — Saniath was willing to upkeep history at the cost of his own life while his father wanted to save life at the cost of history. Now Saniath lives in London and I wonder did he ever look back and reflect?

Soon at the insistence of Col. Malik, we had to move to our Dhupadigirpar house that was destroyed by them. Col. Malik and Brig. Rana arranged special flight for us to fly to Dhaka. The Pakistani occupation army realized an opening for a good public relations campaign and to nullify the Indian news (Akash Bani) media claim. They pressed my father to make a ‘radio broadcast’ that he refused. They flew my brother, Sujan A. Muiz along with others to check and state that my father was alive. General Tikka Khan sent ‘Peace Committee Member’ Mahmud Ali and General Rao Forman Ali to see our house and the passers-by were forcibly recruited to rebuild the house overnight. The house was rebuilt and army officers used to come by to loot all precious collections, for example, gold coins of Emperor Akbar, the coins of Tuglak, coins of many countries that my mother collected over the years, rare books and old copies of Quran, gold and silver collections, a part of which were rescued and later was donated to the Dhaka Museum. For the next nine months, no one could live in that house for fear of the occupation army.

My father was sent to Dhaka Medical College hospital for treatment as a mortar splinter caused infection on his right leg. We could not take care of it when we were on the run. His next-door patient was Poet Jasimuddin, the Palli Kobi. He dictated many poems to my younger sister, Shipa Hafiza that possibly have never been published yet!

One of my elder brothers, Shelly A. Mubdi, was working as the Sales Manager for the ICI Pharmaceuticals and he left Dhaka through Canadian embassy on 27th March and joined the Bangladesh liberation movement in London. Another one, Abul Maal Abdul Muhith, who was working at the Pakistan Embassy in Washington DC left Pakistan government service on protest and became a lobbyist in Washington DC for the Bangladesh liberation movement. He was the senior most CSP officer who switched allegiance to Mujibnagar government. I came back to Dhaka and was working with Professor Giasuddin Ahmed of the Dhaka University, a close family friend. We used to collect medicines and relief materials for the Mukti Bahini. My sister, Dr. Shahla Khatun used to get medicine samples and a number of my brother’s friends (Mubdi of ICI) were very cooperative and they used to supply us boxes of medicines. For example, Mr. M. R. Osmany of the Wyeth Laboratories, a cousin of Gen. M.A.G. Osmany was a good contributor. My sister’s Morris Minor car with customary ‘doctor’s emblem and ‘Red Cross’ sign was very helpful to transport medicines for the freedom fighters without any body’s suspicion. One day, Gias Bhai and I got caught at the Mirpur Road near Dhanmondi Road No. 2. They inquired about the boxes of medicines. However, the doctor’s emblem and Red Cross signs saved us from disaster. I felt awful when I learned of the cruel death of Gias Bhai, a man of great dignity and a towering personality. Al Badr/ Al-Shams Bahini murdered him on December 14, 1971, along with many other intellectuals two days prior to independence. May Allah bless him. Surely the martyrs did not give their lives for nothing– they are indeed a blessed lot.

In Assam, we had to maintain low profile as the Assamees and the Indian Muslims did not like us there. In Karimganj, neither the brothers of our neighbour, Abdul Mannan Chowdhury, were happy with us although they were MPs from the Congress-I (Indira Congress) party. They rebuked us for breaking Pakistan. However, we got help from Bengali speaking Indians especially relatives of Hindu friends of Bangladesh. Finding difficulty in Karimganj, I came back to Dhaka to collect medicines and money for the refugees and the Mukti-Bahini. In passing, I must mention one thing. During the occupation period, one of my elder sisters, Fauzia Khatun died in Dhaka as no one was able to shift her to the medical emergency owing to the ‘curfew’. We could neither bury her at our family graveyard in Sylhet. A couple of weeks earlier, she flew from Rawalpindi to my parents rented new home in Dhaka near Pak Motors on Mymensingh Road and their downstairs’ tenant was Dr. S. D. Chowdhury, former Vice Chancellor and next door neighbour was advocate Ahmedur Rahman, son-in-law of former Chief Minister, Nurul Amin. At times, I stayed with my sister at the Sobhanbagh Colony and under occupation, all our neighbours [both in Pak Motors and Sobhanbagh colony], Mr. M. A. Samad (Agri.. Dept), Professor A. Hasheem (Dhaka College), Dr. Idris Lasker, Dr. Badiul Alam (Medical Professors) and their families, to name a few, became a close-knit family. No wonder people in distress become close friends! It is interesting that during 1971, one of my younger sisters, Nazia Khatun got married to Dr. A. H. Shibly, a teacher at the Rajshahi University. Many of our own relatives did not attend her wedding out of fear as her brothers were working for the Bangladesh cause. In addition, one of my maternal uncles, Syed Shah Jamal Chowdhury, a resident of SM Hall and a Final Year student at the Dhaka University never returned home since 25th March 1971.

An Unique War Experience: Even Soldiers Hardly Get It:
On November 19, 1971 my parents went back to Sylhet for the first time since April 4th and all of us joined them to observe the Eid-ul-Fitre. I was supposed to return to Dhaka on November 27th. However, all the flights were cancelled and on December 4, 1971, we had to move our family away as occupation army set up a camp behind our house. When I was about to leave, the Pakistan army did not allow me to leave. I insisted on my leaving and therefore, they said, they would kill me. They added, they were at war with India. Till April 20, I was never been afraid of Pakistan army. But after that day and after I returned from India, the sight of Pakistani army used to create fear, shivering, and real tension.

However, I remained at home alone. At the evening, the Pakistani army started shooting at random at the Indian paratroopers and Mukti Bahini, they said. I looked around but could not see anything. By 8 O’ Clock, it was clear to me….I listened to the speech of the Indian Prime Minister Indira Gandhi who declared war. I was delighted and had been waiting for that hour. As the sounds of shooting intensified, I took shelter at a small trench in our backyard. The shooting continued throughout the night. You could hear different kinds of sounds…ketor ketor, tash tash, woo-woo, gurum gurum, gumm. It reminded me of Lord Tennyson’s poem, ‘cannons to right of them, cannons to left of them, cannons in front of them, volleyed and thundered”. Like Srikanto’s ‘Somudro Jatra”, I thought, if I die, let me enjoy the war and its ferocity and therefore, I started looking up. I could see flashes of lights and flashes of fire projectiles all around me. They were never-ending. What a great wonder that men’s creations developed weapons of self-destruction!! What a great mystery that it is human beings that created more problems, tensions and disasters for themselves!!

It might be near impossible for many professional soldiers to be ‘in-between the opposing forces’ but I had a rare chance. I was in-between the Pakistan army and the joint forces of India and Bangladesh. At late night, I could hear the Pakistan army retreating. Their big armoured cars, jeeps and trucks had gone leaving behind tons of ammunitions and varieties of guns. So many weapons! The following morning, when I heard a Bengali voice, I got up from my trench. I met an Indian Captain. He was originally from Faridpur. They were trying to jump start a car. They took it and he told me not to move around the ammunitions. Within half an hour, he came back along with an Indian Colonel and asked me to accompany them to the Army HQ. I did. I met General DQ, the Indian Army General. He told me not to allow anyone to touch the ammunitions. Soon Indian trucks came and loaded the leftovers; varieties of guns, rifles, recoilless guns, and tons of ammunitions, might be worth of millions of dollars. Our entire backyard where we used to play football was full of ammunitions and arms. They dug so many trenches all across the football field and destroyed our pineapple gardens, hundreds of them.

I went out by bike to see my family that took shelter at Masimpur, 8 miles from our home. On the way, I saw dead bodies near the Hasan Market, the State Bank premises and the Kane’s bridge. One dead body was hanging on the grill… he must have tried his best to flee away but failed. I did neither have time nor the courage to bury the dead ones. Still today those scenes haunt me in my pensive or in-pensive mood.

Conclusion: Should We Forget Muktijudder Chetona? :
Bangladeshi governments and political leaders may have the luxury to ignore those dead ones and squabble over leadership, but how can I forget them? How can I forget Bilkis whose father was an additional SP of Comilla and was shot dead? How can I forget my relatives, my neighbours and my friends that were killed for no fault of their own? Our Hindu neighbour’s college going daughter was raped. How can I forget her pure face and affectionate behaviour? On the Victory Day each year, while we rejoice, I feel pain as we could not honour the dead, nor the victims, nor the freedom fighters yet with due solemnity. I feel bad when I find the national leaders questioning the ‘Muktijudder Chetona”. What a travesty of justice, what a shameful act!! How can we make friendship with those that still refuse to accept their guilt and deny the existence of injustice and atrocities of 1971? How can we not ask them to solicit mercy and forgiveness for their crime against mankind? A crime is a crime. It cannot be ignored with the lapse of time. Lord Cromwell was tried from his dead and the Nazis of World War II are still being sought after. The Nazis and the KKK are barred from getting elected in democratic societies. We must not condone a criminal or his crime, nor should we give shelter to criminals. We can only forgive them provided they ask for forgiveness and mercy—there is no alternatives known to me. Those who believe in Islam know that even the Almighty Allah will not forgive those who have committed crimes against His creatures unless they forgive them first. Therefore, unless they solicit mercy and forgiveness and confess their guilt publicly, they must not be forgiven. If a group or a person forgive them for group or personal interest, then they share the same loathe and disdain of our dead. They cannot be our heroes nor can they be the torchbearers for our future generations.

Muktijudder Chetona is very simple and pure. It stands for justice and fair play in human relations. It abhors racism, intolerance, dehumanization discrimination and communalism that the occupation force represented. It seeks equity in society and equal opportunities for all. It upholds democratic values; after all the 1971 war was fought to ensure democracy and economic emancipation. Can we therefore forget Muktijudder Chetona?

We know that ‘past is past, future is uncertain, and present is a gift of God’. Since the ‘present’ is a gift of God, therefore, should we not use this gift to the best of our ability to enhance Muktijudder Chetona, more fellow feeling, more tolerance, better economic opportunities and justice for all? #

Dr. Abdul Momen, a professor of economics and business management, Boston, USA Sylhet@Verizon.net

[Translated by Zunaid Kazi]

25th March 1971. Universities were closed because of the non- cooperation movement; neither students nor teachers were attending classes. Even then one has to go back a little bit to speak about the events of 25th March. The elections had established the supremacy of the Bengali majority. Consequently, the power to rule the country should have been vested in the hands of their elected representatives, but the authoritarian ruling clique of the west were in no mood to accept the judgement of the people. That is why they cancelled promised sitting of the parliament on the third of March.

In the face of this insult, Bengalis became defiant. The Bangobondhu’s thunderous declaration in a mammoth public meeting on the 7th of March – “ebArer shongrAm shAdhinatAr shongrAm: This struggle is the struggle for independence” – began to echo in the skies of Bangladesh. That struggle began with non-cooperation, court boycotts, tax revolt, meetings, processions and other mass actions. The Pakistani government became totally paralyzed.

The incapacitated totalitarian government was incensed and gave vent to it’s fury on the black night of 25th March.

Dhaka citizens were apprehensive that the aggressor army might take recourse to a blood-bath. Innumerable barricades were built across the streets and roads of Dhaka. But, they were futile. Soon after day-break, the barbaric attack commenced. Numerous tanks and armored carriers took to the streets. Doors and windows of houses began to reverberate with the sounds of firing cannons, shells and mortars. The deafening rolls of the weapons of death shattered the silence of dusk. And it appeared as if tongues of flame were dancing the dance of daemons on the stage of a blood red sky. Dhaka has been transformed into a bloody war field.

Just like the previous days, some of us had gathered at the University Teachers Meeting Room. Under the aegis of the teachers association we were busy through out the month of March in arranging protest meetings and processions and putting out joint statements. Everyday work always awaited us, and that day was no different. Doctor Khan Sarwar Murshed had prepared a statement that we were planning to present to the British high Commission. Just a few days ago, a news item was published where we learnt that the British Government had permitted the Pakistani Navy access to the port facilities of the then British protectorate of Maldives for repairs and refuelling. We were apprehensive that if at our hour of need the Indian Navy puts up a naval blockade along Pakistani shores, Pakistani ships might attempt to reach Chittagong by way of the Maldives. that is why we were appealing to the British; our statement professed our great concern at the purported action. for several days we attempted to collect signatures form well known citizens. Former Ambassador Kamruddin Ahmed signed, whereas former governor Sultanuddin refused to sign our statement.

On the morning of 25th March Doctor Murshed, Doctor Sirajul Islam Chowdhury, Doctor Belayet, Professor Ahsanul Haque, Professor Giasuddin Ahmed (later murdered by Al-Badr), Professor Joynul Abedeen (deceased) amongst others presented our statement to the first secretary at the British Deputy High Commission. On our return to Campus we came across the leaders of Central Students Action Committee Tofael Ahmed and Sheikh Kamal. Sheikh Kamal had come to campus to pick up Tofael Ahmed. Tofael Ahmed told us that the meeting between Yah Yah and the Sheikh Shaheb had ended without agreement; no one knew what might happen.

In the afternoon I went to the University club. All the teachers there were pretty worked up. Some were berating the Awami League leadership for not having yet declared independence. In the evening, the Seven O’clock English news on TV we heard of the Bangobondhu’s news conference earlier in the day. There he had said – If the Pakistani Army attacked the innocent and peace loving Bengalis then the gallant sons of Bengal will not let that pass unchallenged… etc.. On the way home from the club that night I met up with some known students students from Iqbal Halls. Two students Feroze and Moin told me that they were leaving Iqbal Hall for safety. They advised me to take my family elsewhere to safety since my house was so near Iqbal Hall. But it was already 10 at night, where could we go? I had no premonitions of what was going to befall us two hours hence.

Behind Iqbal Hall were University quarters 23, 24 and 25. In total 24 teachers stayed in those buildings with their families. I was a resident of the second floor of building 24. Doctor Fazlur Rahman of the Botany Department lived in building 23. In the same building Professors Anwar Pasha and Rashidul Hassan resided with their families in the apartments on the fourth floor. Just across from building 25 was the Nilkhet railroad. On the other side of the rail-line there was a slum where several thousand homeless eked out a leaving. In front of our buildings and parallel to the Nilkhet Road was four residences of University Administrative Officers. From the night of 35th March through the morning of the 27th Iqbal Hall and the adjoining residences were the main target of the Pakistani Army attack.

Just after midnight on the night of 25th March, the Pakistani Army began their attack on the Student Halls and Staff Quarters of the University. Since Iqbal Hall was known as the head- quarters of the Free Bengal Students Action Committee a major portion of the Pakistani Army fury was directed at Iqbal Hall. Just after midnight Iqbal Hall came under a barrage of heavy mortar and machine-gun attack from near the pond in front and the police barracks behind it. Immediately students and bearers from the Hall, and Bengali Policemen from the Nilkhet Barracks tried to escape and seek refuge in the adjoining teacher’s and staff quarters. The Bengali soldiers of the EPR who were on duty at the President’s House were disarmed and then to Ramna Race-Course where they were gunned down. Several EPR soldiers managed to flee and found refuge amongst our midsts. The Army set on fire the Nilkhet slum and in cold-blood machine gunned fleeing slumdwellers from the Nilkhet Rail-Gate. Many managed to escape from the slum and also took shelter with us.

I don’t have the words to express the bestiality and barbarity that was perpetrated on the Dhaka University area, especially Iqbal Hall, Jagannath Hall, and adjoining residential areas, for a period of 36 hours from the night of the 25th till the 26th night. What transpired around Iqbal Hall, I saw with my own eyes. Raging infernos everywhere; the slum was burning, the cars parked around the residences were burning. The heaped bodies of the dead from the slum were also set on fire near the Nilkhet rail gate petrol pump. The sound of shells bursting and guns firing, the smoke and fire, the smell of gun-powder and the stench of the burning corpses all transformed the area into a fiery hell. Every so often our building was being peppered with bullets. In the midst of this, we, our families, the students and bearers from the Halls, the slum-dwellers, had given up all hope for life, and were waiting for the hour of death. For most of March, student leaders Nur-e-Alam Ziku and Shahjahan Siraj used to spend the night with thus, but on that fateful might they weren’t with us. Had they been with us we would have been very apprehensive about their safety.

The incessant firings from cannons, mortars, tanks, machine-guns and automatics continue throughout the night. On the morning of the 26th the Pakistani killers began to go through the hall rooms and residential apartments and began their orgy of murder and looting. Huge gaping holes appeared on Iqbal Hall and the ad- joining residences of the bearers as a result of the shelling. Many bearers died as a result. Those unfortunate students and bearers of Iqbal Hall who had failed to flee were all killed by the Pakistanis. Some surviving students were taken to the Iqbal Hall kitchen where petrol was poured over them and then they were burnt alive. The university correspondent of the Daily Azad was shot near the auditorium. So was bearer Shamshu. The water pump workers of the Hall as well as the bearers were all brutally murdered by the Pakistani fiends.

Having finished their slaughter in Iqbal Hall, the Pakistani animals turned their attention to the residential buildings. The first began in flats of building 23. This here that they murdered Professor Fazlur Rahman of the Geology Department and two of his relatives. They also entered the flats of Professors Anwar Pasha and Rashidul Hassan. Everyone in those flats were hidden under the beds. After failing to see anyone in the torch light, the Pakistani soldiers were heard saying: “Bangali Kutta Bhag Gia – The Bengali dogs have flown.” Even though Professors Pasha and Hassan miraculously survived from the Pakistani barbarians, death still met them on the 14th of December, on the eve of Victory, when the killers from Jamat-e-Islam, Islami Chhatro Shango, and the Al-Badr Muslim Bangla, murdered many intellectuals near Mirpur. Another resident of the building, Dhaka University Assistant Librarian Mridha miraculously survived. But about 30 women, men and children from the slum who took refuge on the roof did not live to see another day. Each of them were brutally murdered by the barbaric Pakistanis, and for nigh over a month their corpses fed the vultures and crows. After several months their skeletons were brought down from the roof; the same day the skeletons of 50 Rokeya Hall staff and their families were removed.

The Pakistani hyenas also entered the building we were in, no 24. On the third flight two mothers from the slum had taken shelter. Their babies were with them. Both of them had been shot in the legs. On seeing the blood allover the entering Pakistani soldiers thought that some of their colleagues had already been through our buildings and so did not enter it. That is why we survived. We did our best to help those mothers and the day we left Nilkhet we had them admitted to Dhaka Medical College Hospital.

On that night the Pakistani beasts had also attacked Madhu’s Canteen and Rokeya Hall. Madhu Da, and his family, bearers and ayahs of Rokeya Hall and their families, were all brutally murdered that night.

Jagannath Hall too faced the fury of the Pakistani Army. Incessant shellings and blood-letting continued their throughout the night of the 25th and the day of the 26th. After the shelling, the soldiers went from room to room and brought out all the students and bearers to the field in front of the hall. There they were forced to dig their own graves. Subsequently they were all shot and buried in the graves they had dug themselves. Amongst all the residential halls of the University, Jagannath hall paid most dearly in terms of lives lost. In the teacher’s corner of Jagannath Hall’s Assembly House used to live Applied Physics’ professor Anuddoipayon Bhottacharjo. On that night the Pakistani animals entered his room and bayonetted him to death. His body was put out near the big tree close to the Hall auditorium for some time, and was then probably buried in the mass grave in the field. At the end of the night, the Pakistani beasts attacked the residence Dr. Gobindrochondro Deb opposite the hall. They first shot him in the head and then bayonetted him. They dragged his body outside, and in plain view drove a truck over him. His corpse was then taken to the Jagannath Hall field and was probably buried in a mass grave. Close to Dr. Deb’s house, near the Shaheed Minar, used to reside Professor Muniruzzaman and Dr. Jyotirmoy Guho Thakurta. Around 3 in the morning the Pakistani entered their residences and shot Professor Munirazzaman, his son Akram, and Dr. Thakurta. They died instantly. In the same building, professor Abdur Razzak and Dr. Anisur Rahman survived miraculously. On the same night, the Pakistani soldiers also attacked the Fuller Road faculty residences. Their first target was building 11. There they entered the residence of University Laboratory School teacher Mohammed Sadek. The animals first bayonetted him and then shot him in cold-blood. His dead body remained in that building till December 27. On the 27th he was buried behind the flat. They barbarians had also attacked building 12. They had dragged out Professor Syed Ali Naki of the Social Sciences Department, and a gentlemen by the name of Syed Syedul Islam. For some inexplicable reason they were not killed, but Professor Abdul Mutkadir of the Geology Department. from the same building, was brutally murdered. They dragged his body somewhere; it was eventually found on the 27th inside Iqbal Hall. The Pakistani animals had also attacked Salimullah Hall and Dhaka Hall. They beat up Salimullah Hall house tutor Professor Munim, and murdered Professor A. R. Khadem at Dhaka Hall.

This is how we spent those 36 hours. When on the morning of the 27th, the so called curfew was lifted, we all left the area for wherever we could. During those 2 days I had thought that everything was over, and we were all condemned to perpetual slavery; but, the firm and strong voice from Chittagong’s Shadheen Bangla Betar Kendra told us that we had not died yet, and I lived again. That is why I still live today.

Source: http://www.virtualbangladesh.com/history/rafiqul_islam.html

Munier Chowdhury was one of the most brilliant personalities of our land. Born on November 27, 1925, his distinguished career was brutally cut short by the local killer-collaborators of the Pakistan occupation army on December 14, 1971, only a few hours before Bangladesh was liberated. He was an ardent nationalist but never a militant one. In his student days he was an active communist, a regular Party member and card-holder, but he voluntarily severed that connection years ago. He chose the life of a scholar, a professor and a writer, and in all three fields achieved enviable success.

Educated in the universities of Aligarh, Dhaka and Harvard, he first carved a name as a fine teacher of English literature. He was, however, passionately devoted to Bangla language and culture, and courted imprisonment in 1952 for his participation in the Bangla language movement, where he had, along with some others, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman as his prisonmate. While in jail he assiduously studied Bangla language and literature, appeared at the MA examination in Bangla from inside the jail and came out first in the first class. On his release from imprisonment, he started teaching Bangla at the University of Dhaka, later becoming the Chairman of the Department and the Dean of the Faculty of Arts, which posts he held till his tragic death in 1971. Students flocked to his class, many from other departments, as he lectured in his inimitable fashion on Meer Mosharraf Hossain, Bankimchandra and Rabindranath, among others. To this day he is fondly remembered as an extraordinary teacher who was able to kindle in his students a genuine love for great literatures.

Munier Chowdhury possessed a truly creative mind. He was interested in many things, and he left his mark in many fields. He designed a keyboard for the Bangla typewriter which was vastly superior to the earlier ones. Commercially patented by a German firm, it was known as the Munier-Optima typewriter. He wrote plays, short stories, literary criticism, scholarly dissertations and humorous sketches besides translating and adapting a number of plays from English into Bangla. However, his forte was drama, and he is rightly considered as the father of modern drama in Bangladesh. He was passionately attracted to the world of drama since his adolescence. His one-act play Rajar Janmadine (On the King’s Birthday) was performed at the Dhaka University stage when he was still an undergraduate student. He avidly read all the best plays of the world, ancient and modern, the popular works as well as the classics. He travelled widely, visiting UK, USA, Germany, Russia and Japan and, wherever he went, he made it a point to visit local theatre halls and opera houses, see some performances and meet a few contemporary local playwrights.

Munier Chowdhury’s most famous work is Kabar (The Grave), written in the background of the glorious language movement of 1952. First enacted inside the jail by a band of political prisoners on a makeshift stage soon after its composition, Kabar has been performed hundreds of times all over Bangladesh, and the trend shows no signs of abatement. Among his other plays are Raktanto Prantar (The Bloodspattered Field), a historical play in three acts; Chitthi (The Letter), a social play in three acts; Rupar Kouta, a fine adaptation of Galsworthy’s Silver Box; Keu Kichchu Bolte Pare Na, an excellent adaptation of Bernard Shaw’s You Never Can Tell; and Mukhara Ramoni Bashikaran, a brilliant translation of Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew. All these plays have been successfully staged, broadcast or televised in Dhaka and other places of Bangladesh.

His plays amply reveal his expert knowledge of the theatre arts. They are skilfully constructed; the dialogue is racy and unflagging; and their content is characterised by a broad liberal humanism. They also reveal a sense of humour, sometimes pungent and satirical, sometimes farcical and gay, often scintillating with the aroma of high comedy.

Had he lived today in free and sovereign Bangladesh with the common people committed to the ideals of democracy, secularism and social justice, he could make invaluable contribution to our arts, culture and literature, but he was not allowed to live by the evil forces opposed to the ideals stated above. It is a great pity that those evil forces of autocracy, religious fanaticism and ruthless exploitation are still alive in Bangladesh, in fact, are flourishing undeterred. As we remember Munier Chowdhury let us all rededicate ourselves to the liquidation of those forces as early as possible. Unless we can do so, the very existence of Bangladesh will be in jeopardy.

KABIR CHOWDHURY (The New Age, 14 December, 2003)

Reference:

http://muktadhara.net/intel.html

Dr Ajoy Roy: A Homage to my martyred colleague

Meghna Guhathakurta
Hey Dad!
The moment I look at verbenas, chrysanthemums dahlias and dianthuses, I seem to conjure up my childhood. In the midst of this riot of colors in the chilly winter morns of South Asia, I can see my father eternally clipping away at dead branches, plucking away dead leaves from thorny rose bushes and leafy rhododendrons. The garden was my father’s natural habitat. He proudly claimed himself to be chief gardener, king of his realm and no one, absolutely no one who did not know the names of all the flowers or creepers that dwelt there or untouched by the subtle fragrance of the different kinds of jasmine that all around walls or was not sensitive to the brilliant hues of colours changing in the sunset did not dare enter! From my earliest memories, I would see bunches of nervous yet eager students troop from our house and tread rather gingerly in my father’s footsteps to be around kingdom of his. They were students of English literature who having struggled through their Keats and Wordsworth had landed up at my father’s doorsteps, eager to quench their thirst for more. But little did they know what was in store for them!!! First had to their prowess in discerning the different kinds of greens they could see reflected in the sparkling sun. Then they had to have deep knowledge of how the earth behaves when it is time to nurture the seedlings that have been strewn on them and how water is needed to enable them to sprout into tender shoots. Then of course it is a must to arrange the mauves and yellows and the pink and the reds so that they do not clash disastrously but render harmonious melody all through. And with each lesson the pages of literature, English, Bengali or whatever would come to life for the students would suddenly feel their body vibrate with the sound of my fathers voice reciting from the works of Tagore, Wordsworth and Yeats.

My father’s passion for gardening was not only well-known, it was legendary. Once a rumor went around that he was asked to set questions for the English paper of the College Exams. Many of my father’s students were wined and dined by these young candidates in order to seek suggestions as to what kind of essays to expect. My father’s students, no doubt, well fed for their labors, came up with one common denominator: It had to be Gardening as a Hobby!! Gleeful candidates rushed back to their midnight oil lamps to pour over arduous explanations of gardening techniques and forms. But alas to their surprise the next morning they opened their question papers to find staring at their face the instruction to write an essay on Fishing as a Hobby!! When the same sheepish students told my father the story that they had gorged down whole dinners to suggest a wrong essay, he guffawed with laughter but his eyes twinkled secretively like the brightly colored dahlias.

Just nine months before the fateful night of 25th March 1971, we moved into a new accommodation provided to us by the Dhaka University authorities. It was just opposite the Central Shahid Minar and across the street from the eastern gate of Jagannath Hall, the student residential hall of which my father was made provost. My father always insisted on a ground floor flat so that he could keep up his dearest activity. The backyard of the flat we moved into filled with overgrown bushes and shrubs needed much work before it could be transformed into a ‘garden’. But it was a challenge that my father took up the day he entered the place. By the winter of 1970, the unwanted shrubs have been cleared, the ground all dug up and laid over by a mixture of sandy and clayey soil, the kind that would give birth to an unadulterated green lawn. The beds too were made ready for the sunny marigolds and the dahlias of various hues: biscuit, lemon, pink and dark maroon. So many passers by would stop and stare over the wall at this sight and my father’s face would beam and glow with pride like one brighter dahlia.

But alas it was on that fateful night of 25th March, in 1971 that the soldiers of the Pakistan Army, in their mission called “Operation Searchlight” trampled over this treasured garden and crossed our threshold to look for the “professor”. It was through this much-loved piece of lawn that he was led at gun-point to the front of the house and asked to give his name and religion. As soon as my father had answered, the order to shoot was given. My father was hit at the side of his neck as he turned away his face, and once on his waist, which paralyzed him waist downwards. He blacked out and fell to the ground. The soldiers trooped out to continue their duties elsewhere in the campus, where hell had been unleashed. As soon as he regained consciousness, he started to call out our names. We realized what had happened, for until then we were under the impression that he had been arrested to be taken to the Cantonment. Neighbors helped us to bring him into the house, but for two nights and two days we could give him no treatment. Army trucks were on patrol, and bullets were being fired left and right. In the meantime, a troop of soldiers came to collect the dead for mass burial in the graves they dug at Jagannath Hall. Professor Maniruzzaman and three boys in his family were all shot dead that night and they dragged their bodies from the family who live on our 3rd floor. They forgot to count my father’s body. We could only take my father to the hospital on the morning of the 27th when the curfew broke. He was weak but still in his senses. But the doctors said his days were numbered. The injury was too critical. He breathed his last at 10.00 am on 30th March 1971.

My mother in her memories “Ekattorer Smriti” ( Memories of 1971) recalls a conversation with my father as the civil disobedience movement called by Sheikh Mujibur Rahman was gaining ground, in those stormy days of March 1971. Many suggested that my father leave the campus. But my father was stalwart. He couldn’t leave as long as one student stayed on campus. Rather melancholically, he pointed to a flower-pot in our verandah and said to my mother. The flower-pot contained three biscuit-colored dahlias in three sizes. One large, the second medium and the last a small one. “See Basanti,” he told my mother, “these three dahlias represent us. I am the large one, it is old and almost dying, the medium one is you and Dola (myself) is the third one. When I am gone the two will still go on living.” My mother cut him off instantly telling him to stop brooding. But on the morning of the 25th, very ominously, the large dahlia had withered so much that my mother had cut off the stem, leaving the two on its own.

We remember instances like this in our weaker moments, when we do not know how exactly to cope with our emotions. For me, the remaining two dahlias are symbolical of the love my father represented for the world and for humanity, something, which could not be killed with bullets or hatred. He merely wanted us to carry this love forward in our lives and thereby conquer fear and hatred. That is why whenever and wherever I look at dahlias in bloom, my heart opens out and smiles an acknowledgement… Hey Dad!

Reference:

http://muktadhara.net/intel.html

Dr Ajoy Roy: A Homage to my martyred colleague

With the baby in her lap Rokeya did not know what to do. She was benumbed with fear and shock. It was one of the many incidents of that black, doomed night — the night that made the Bengalees a nation of fighters. The definition of death was not known to Rokeya. But she was a witness to that fateful black night of March 25. She experienced the horrors of 26th March comparable to one’s dying moments only. On the morning of 26th March Dr. Gobinda Chandra Deb fell down before Rokeya’s eyes because of indiscriminate shooting. Whereas moments before death, in his child-like innocence he was addressing the Pakistani soldiers as ‘baba’ (father, meaning ‘my beloved children’). He wanted to know about the cause of their sudden raid on his residence. Rokeya found no pertinent reason behind the brutality that befell them.

During the Non-cooperation Movement of March Dr. Deb was not physically well. In February,1971 he came back from the USA with a pain in his leg. In March he used to suffer from toothache. The pain even spread to his throat. Dr. Deb usually did not participate in any discussion on politics, but the Non-cooperation Movement of March sometimes made him very thoughtful and disturbed. The Bangla word ‘mukti’ (freedom) had a very special meaning for him. He considered it to be related to the very existence of independent Bangladesh. On March 23, when late Abdul Quddus Makhan, a DUCSU leader, came to see Dr. Deb, he (Dr.Deb) willingly gave him (Makhan) money to buy a Swadhin Bangla flag. Later on, he said this time there would be something meaningful for the country.

On March 25 he went out for an evening walk as usual. After returning home at 8 in the evening he entered his reading room. Rokeya requested him to go to bed as early as possible since he was not physically well. Her husband late Mohammad Ali was a banker. She was busy with her B. Ed examinations. Being tired of whole day’s work, her husband and Dr. Deb fell asleep.

It was 11 at night then. The non-stop sound of firing startled Rokeya. Being frightened, she called her husband. Then they were living in the premises of Jagannath Hall. Rokeya’s room was at one corner and Dr. Deb’s room was in the middle of the house. Mohammad Ali woke up hearing the sound of firing. They felt as if it were an earthquake. Bullets like hailstorm were hitting the house. The whole house was trembling. Mohammad Ali and Rokeya with their baby crawled into the middle room. Dr. Deb was shivering in fear and horror. Handing over the baby to Mohammad Ali, Rokeya hugged Dr. Deb. Late in the night there were so many bullets that they had to take shelter in a small room of the house. The Pakistani armed forces with their loudspeakers were giving orders to surrender. The language they used was English. By morning the sound of bullets almost ceased. For being awake throughout the night, Dr. Deb was very tired. He was about to collapse. In spite of his tiredness and exhaustion, he told Rokeya, “It’s time to say prayers, Ma (mother, meaning ‘my beloved daughter’). Could you make me a place for that?” The sound of firing was no longer there. Rokeya cleaned the middle room to let Dr. Deb worship. The whole house was so disorderly due to the frenzied orgy of the Pakistanis that it was almost impossible to walk from one room to another. There were many holes in the wall. Plasters of the walls were coming off. It seemed at any moment the house might break down.
Mohammad Ali was lying on the bed hugging the baby. Somehow Rokeya prepared a cup of tea with the hot water kept in a flask and brought it to Dr. Deb’s room. He felt well after sipping tea.

Rokeya looked tired as she was narrating the atroticities perpetrated by the Pakistanis. It was a cursed moment of her life – of everybody’s life in Bangladesh. She said my baby also saw how her grandfather was brutally killed. The occupying forces killed Dr. Deb before the baby. “The memories of the merciless killing are still fresh in my daughter’s mind, she becomes agitated when she remembers that.” It was that cursed morning of 26th March. The compound of Jagannath Hall was full of soldiers. The dead bodies killed the previous night were  lying in the field in front of the dormitory building. Groans of tortured women could be heard from the neighbourhood. In a state of bewilderment, we all gathered in the middle room of our house. A few moments later, there was a knock at the main door. Somebody was shouting, “Malaun ki baccha, darwaza khol do” (You son of a infidel, open the door). It was not an order. It sounded like the roar of a fiend. Being frightened, Dr. Deb stood up very nervously. Rokeya forced him to sit dawn. The knocks at the door were gradually increasing. It seemed they were kicking at the door with their boots. The door was about to be broken down.

Keeping the baby in Dr. Deb’s lap, Rokeya’s husband walked towards the door. The door was not able to stand the barbaric blows. No sooner had he reached near the door than it collapsed on the trembling old man. Dr. Deb somehow managed to come out of the collapsed door. Immediately one soldier hit him in the head with the rifle. A bullet from a distance hit him in the chest. He tried to walk away from there. After a few steps, he fell down on the floor. Other members of the family had been standing in the middle room. They were only three Dr. Deb, the baby and Rokeya. Dr. Deb became so shocked and dumbfounded that he couldn’t but quietly ask the invaders, “What do you want here baba”? Those were his last words. In course of this query they started shooting at him. Two bullets hit him in the head just near one ear and the other bullets hit him in the chest. They also beat Rokeya mercilessly. They were asking again and again where the rifles were in the house. Repeatedly they charged bayonet on the dead body of Dr. Deb. It was a ghastly sight. Rokeya became mentally so upset and exhausted that she uttered “Allah” quite loudly pulling the baby more close to her. She still does not know whether she survived because of that utterance. The Pakistani forces took away the bodies of Dr. Deb and her husband Mohammad Ali, and kept them among the hundreds of dead bodies lying in the playground in front of the Jagannath Hall. With this tragic killing ended the life of a beloved teacher and philosopher of Bangladesh.

Reference:

http://muktadhara.net/intel.html

Dr Ajoy Roy: A Homage to my martyred colleague

Nur Mohammad Sheikh

Nur Mohammad Sheikh  (26 February 1936 – 5 September 1971) was a Lance Nayek in East Pakistan Rifles during the Liberation War. He was killed in an engagement with the Pakistan Army while providing fire for covering the extrication of fellow soldiers at Goalhati in Jessore district on September 5 1971. Nur Mohammad died saving his compatriots and inflicting heavy casualties on his enemy. He was awarded Bir Sreshtho, the highest state insignia of Bangladesh for his bravery and the highest sacrifice.

Early life:
Nur Mohammad Sheikh was born at Moheshkhali village in Narail. His father was Mohammad Amanat Sheikh and mother was Mosammat Jinnatunnesa Khanam. He continued his education up to seventh grade at local schools.

On 14 March 1959, he joined the East Pakistan Rifles. After finishing the elementary training, he was appointed at the Dinajpur sector. He was transferred to Jessore sector on 1 July 1970. At March 1971, Nur Mohammad was staying at his village in a vacation. As the war started, he joined sector 8 and continued to take part at different battles at Jessore. He died on 5 September during the Goalhati Battle in Sutipur.

Battle of Goalhati:
Lance Nayek Nur Mohammad was selected as the captain of the Standing Patrol team at Goalhati that was established to monitor the Pakistan army. On September 5, Nur Mohammad was patrolling with 4 fellow soldiers. The Pakistan army managed to point out the position of Nur Mohammad’s team and attacked them from three different sides. Nur Mohammad wanted to retreat to his base and continued to fire towards Pakistani armies. Meanwhile, one of his fellow soldier was shot by the bullet and Nur Mohammad started carrying him towards safety. But Nur Mohammad himself was hit by a mortar. Even though he was seriously injured, Nur Mohammad decided to continue to provide covering fire for his team. At the time, his fellow Sepoy, Mostafa, urged Nur Mohammad to go with him. Mostafa even forced Nur Mohammad to go with him but Nur Mohammad refused to go but gave his Light Machine Gun to Mostafa so that it would not be captured after his death. He kept a self loaded rifle with him and kept on fighting until he died.

He was posthumously awarded the highest gallantry award “Bir Shrestho” for his bravery during the War of Liberation.