This is not the Bangladesh we stood for in the line of fire

AT 2 pm on August 5, 2024, Bangladesh was freed from an autocrat. It baffles me that I can finally use the word ‘autocrat’ to describe the fallen Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina because our law made sure we couldn’t since 2018.

My brother and I rushed to the streets, unable to contain our excitement. The atmosphere was electric. I had never seen so many people on the streets, waving flags. Families carried their children on their shoulders, chanting slogans of victory. Rickshaw pullers saluted students, who stood on rickshaws giving speeches about refusing to live under tyranny, goons, or chandabaaj (extortionists).

We could breathe a sigh of relief. Hasina’s flight from the country meant the end of enforced disappearances of students, journalists and activists, police raids on student protesters and the brutalities of the Bangladesh Chhatra League (BCL). Bangladesh was, for now, a country free of censorship. But our joy soon turned to horror as we walked from Motijheel to Shahbagh.

At Motijheel, crowds gathered in front of Sonali Bank, ripping off posters of Hasina. We cheered until someone suggested tearing down everything built under the Awami League regime. We dismissed it as extreme views surfacing due to newfound freedom.

As we walked towards Shahbagh, our smiles faded. People were carrying army officials on their shoulders, believing they had brought this freedom. They climbed onto armoured vehicles, raised flags and danced. Some in the crowd looked uncomfortable but shrugged it off, thinking it was all part of the celebration.

When we crossed Suhrawardy Uddyan, we saw a thick cloud of smoke. Inside, vandals had set large stages on fire, which had been set up for commemorating mourning day by the Awami League. A statue replicating Bangabandhu’s historic March 7 speech was also ablaze. We tried to stop the fires, but people gave us looks of disgust. We stumbled upon a crowd beating a BCL-affiliated student with rods. The mob claimed he had weapons. Some students tried to protect him, shouting for him to be handed over to the army. But we were called Chhatra League or Razakar, accused of siding with the enemy. We had seen enough people shot, maimed and killed during protests. It was ironic how we now took hits from a mob to save someone we were supposed to hate. The mob eventually outnumbered us, and the person was beaten to death. We couldn’t verify his identity, fearing for our lives.

We asked Army officials at the Shahbagh intersection to intervene and clear the crowd, but they refused. We knew the anarchy we were witnessing was just the beginning. We hadn’t yet heard of the communal violence on Hindu communities, temples being torched, and attacks on Awami League-affiliated members and their families, alongside policemen and their families.

At the TSC, we saw microbuses set on fire. Vandals warned people not to take videos or photos. Chairs were stolen from the halls and looters from Gono Bhaban, the Prime Minister’s residence, were cheered as they brought in the chairs.

At 5 pm, I walked from Shahbagh to The Daily Star building. On the way, men on bikes were honking and catcalling women. Mobs targeted TV news offices which hadn’t covered the student protests due to pressure from the authorities. A witchhunt was underway, and I feared for my safety.

I felt numb witnessing the horror. What was the point of Abu Sayeed, Mir Mugdho, Farhan Faiyaz, and the deaths of over 200 others if this was the picture of freedom we painted in the first hours of independence? Are we truly free if we ignore the concerns of our minority communities? We are now so vulnerable and afraid that rational people have started believing in endless disinformation.

If we find the hanging Hasina’s undergarments on fans and displaying them in front of the media funny, then we are setting a dangerous precedent. This rhetoric could be used by religious bigots and radical groups to attack women’s empowerment, arguing that empowering women leads to tyrants like Hasina. The politics of the AL regime could be used to justify their hidden agendas. As a nation, we need to be far more vigilant than we have been during these dark days of lawlessness.

I was horrified that the mob justified their vandalism by saying, “They did this to us, so we will do the same to them.” No. Students did not sacrifice their lives for vigilante justice. They did it so people, regardless of background, have the right to speak up, claim justice and call out injustice.

The movement is called the ‘Anti-Discrimination Movement’ and we cannot let that rhetoric be politicised or diluted. Many have noticed how the BNP has band-wagoned on the student’s right to justice as a movement they always supported.

I am proud that the student leaders I trust have called out this violence and set up watch parties. They constantly distinguish that these acts of vandalism are not what we support. I hope they continue this stance. Because when I saw vandals parading with their motorbikes on Manik Mia Avenue, it seemed we had just replaced the Chhatra League with the Chhatra Dal, allowing history to repeat itself.

We are at a monumental time in Bangladesh’s history to create change. We have an opportunity to redefine the Bangladesh we want without being deterred by the thought that “we will simply never see this in Bangladesh.”

Civic society has the biggest role to play now. Amidst the vandalism, civic groups made human chains to stop vandals from destroying police stations, helped return stolen items from Gono Bhaban and imams, along with students, joined watch parties outside temples to protect them. This is the Bangladesh I dreamt of, my grandfather dreamt of during the Liberation War and the countless other freedom fighters who took a bullet. This is the time to call out all injustices that hindered our society under an autocracy—not just politicians, but also businessmen who supported the Awami League and now pretend to support our students.

It is time for us to be vigilant on all fronts. It is so much harder to protect freedom than to achieve it. If nothing else, what this protest proved is that students have the power to take down an autocrat that everyone feared. We can again take down anyone who stands in the way of building a free Bangladesh for all. Our work has just begun.