When the dust settles

I have read some very eloquent defences of the demolition of the residence of Sheikh Mujib and do not disagree with many of the points made therein. 

I understand the anger against the AL and especially Sheikh Hasina. 

I understand the rage that had built up over the past decade and a half in which Sheikh Mujib had been all but deified and transformed into a Kim Jong-il type figure that you could only criticize at your peril, such that people would wish to eradicate and raze to the ground any symbol associated with him.

And I understand the white hot fury that Hasina still evokes due to her utter refusal to acknowledge let alone show contrition for the crimes she and her regime committed during the July uprising and indeed in the 15 years prior.

I sympathize with the outrage that people feel when they learn that she continues to plot her return to power and wishes to address her henchmen and women as though they are guilty of nothing, indeed as though they are the wronged party, scheming to sow destruction and anarchy the length and breadth of the country.

I get it. It is enough to make anyone -- especially those who have suffered directly at the hands of her regime -- beside themself with fury and want to smash everything associated with her, her family, her party, and her rule.

Believe me, more sympathetic, I could not be.

Except, in a country governed by the rule of law, we simply cannot allow ourselves to give free rein to such emotions and take the law into our own hands, however great the provocation, however justified we feel we might be, however small may be the wrong we are committing in relation to the wrong which was done to us.

We either live in a country governed by laws, or we do not. And in a nation of laws, we cannot have mobs descend upon and demolish property, whatever may be the perceived provocation.

Let me enumerate the reasons that the destruction of the house on Road 32 was distressing to me and I feel has left all of us fundamentally the poorer.

I am not even going to preface my argument with the point that Sheikh Mujib was Bangladesh’s independence leader and our first president and that there remain many in the country who venerate him and his indelible contribution to our liberation. 

I am going to try to argue from the point of view of those who do not see him as a seminal and preeminent figure in Bangladeshi history, as these are the minds I need to change. 

Though it should be pointed out that if reconciliation and inclusivity is the name of the political game, then the razing of Road 32 likely alienated a lot of people who would otherwise be on the side of the interim government and the student leaders, but for whom this action would appear a step too far.

The first point I am going to make is that the wanton destruction and demolition of anything by an angry mob is almost always an uncomfortable spectacle. Such spontaneous actions as we witnessed in the immediate aftermath of Hasina fleeing on August 5 are one thing, and can perhaps be argued away as inescapable in the emotion and heat of the moment.

What happened on Wednesday night, however, was not spontaneous, but pre-planned violence. And when violence -- any kind of violence -- is committed by a lawless mob, it can only serve to make the common person uneasy, because it sends the message that no one and nothing is safe.

I don’t like violence, as do most people. And while there are times when violence is called for or unavoidable, this was not one of them. And make no mistake about it, razing a house to the ground is violence.

This ties into the larger point of rule of law. Perhaps the biggest concern that the common person has had over the past six months has been the tenuous state of the rule of law in Bangladesh.

It is undeniable that anxiety and insecurity remain among the general public when it comes to the issue of their personal safety and security, not because crime is necessarily up, but because law enforcement remains toothless and there remains a general sense that lawlessness and crimes will go unpunished. 

Security was left in shambles with the fleeing of Hasina on August 5 and it is still not fully returned, as we see evidence of every day. The interim government has been working heroically to restore the people’s sense of security, but I fear that Wednesday’s destruction will have set back their efforts severely. 

When a baying mob razes and demolishes a house with no push back from law enforcement it doesn’t do a great deal to inspire confidence in the state of the rule of law in a country. Furthermore, it leads to uncomfortable questions as to who is running the show and just how far does the writ of the interim government operate.

If there was one moment in the past six months when it behooved the interim government to draw a line in the sand and stand up to the more radical elements within its coalition and support base, I feel that it was Wednesday night. 

For six months the people have been hoping for a more muscular assertion of authority on the part of the interim government and Wednesday night would have been the perfect opportunity to assuage those anxieties and show that the rule of law remains paramount.

Finally, I think the most serious concern is how this will be used by the enemies of the government to try to paint a picture of lawlessness and chaos. 

Let’s face it, the images from Wednesday night are tailor-made for the social media age, and our ill-wishers -- of whom there is no shortage -- will spare no expense to use the demolition for their own purposes and to try to discredit not just the interim government but the Bangladeshi people as a whole.

So while I understand and even to some extent sympathize with the instincts behind the actions of the mob on Wednesday night, I cannot help but think that it was a mistake which, when the dust settles, will have done our cause more harm than good. 

[Originally published in Dhaka Tribune on February 7,2025]