Dr. Hameeda Hossain
 

I too was moved when I saw Death and the Maiden in a London theatre. I immediately thought of its relevance to the situation in Bangladesh, where neither the state nor the society has been able to find a catharsis for the 1971 war crimes. I had then brought a copy of the script in the hope that a Dhaka theatre group would adapt it for the local theatre. This was in the nineties, when the military government had been forced to resign, and there was a strong sentiment that with the return to an elective system, we could seek some retribution for the brutality of the war crimes, to recognize the gross injustice against individuals and the society and through this to move towards peace and retribution. Sara Zaker of Nagorik Theatre took up the challenge and staged a performance in Mahila Samiti, with Asaduzaman Nur, Abdul Hayat and Nima Rahman. There were many in the audience who remained unsatisfied with the play’s ambiguous conclusion. They would have preferred a direct indictment of the aggressor and not only an identification of the aggression. But as Sara Zaker explained, the question of right and wrong has been so mired in the complexity of contemporary political rivalries, that condemnation of crimes committed in 1971 are being sidetracked by partisan claims.   

The staging of the play coincided with the High Court hearings on Gholam Azam’s petition claiming citizenship of Bangladesh. He had very obviously and publicly collaborated with the Pakistan army, and a law denying citizenship to collaborators should have applied to him as well. But, the Court, on technical grounds, recognized his citizenship, thrusting aside moral and legal arguments. The question that continues to be raised is why the State did not proceed with criminal charges.  

Professor Theresa Phelps has raised questions that are highly relevant to Bangladesh: The end to conflict is never very tidy, as national solutions are often guided by geo-political realities. How does a society, divided by war and conflict come to terms with national solutions that ignore individual and social demands for justice? Although the brutality of the 1971 genocide has been part of the national psyche for 33 years, there has been no accounting for crimes-neither national nor individual, neither political nor social. In more recent post conflict societies such as Yugoslavia, Rwanda, South Africa, Chile, Argentina, San Salvador, Sri Lanka trials have been held, truth commissions formed, which allowed for evidence to be collated, for a documentation of crimes, for trials in some cases, and acceptance of guilt by a few. Although it is difficult for victims and their aggressors to totally wipe out the past, the historical narrative may, according to Theresa Phelps, lead to some form of healing. But are the aggressors wiling to accept their past crimes and to abjure the path of violence. And is this possible when social and political conflict lines are drawn across the 1971 divide, and become enmeshed into power struggles? 

What were our expectations of justice in Bangladesh? There was a mounting national demand for trials of both the Pakistani war criminals and their collaborators. Soon after independence in 1972, 195 officers of the Pakistan army were charged. In addition, many thousands of collaborators were identified within their own communities, and were put into jails. Many trials were started in the lower courts. Legislation to set up a tribunal for trial of war crimes was enacted in 1973. But already the Pakistan POWs were into Indian custody, and pressure from US and UK added to India’s political strategy to negotiate peace with Pakistan persuaded Bangladesh to transfer its demand for trials to the Government of Pakistan. The latter’s representative had agreed at the Simla Meeting that 195 military officials would be tried in Pakistan. This was never done and leading generals such as Niazi or Tikka Khan led unblemished lives in Pakistan. the military thus was spared from acknowledging its responsibilities for the genocide, except by the Hamoodur Rahman Commission. In Pakistan’s historical narrative, the destructive power of the military was concealed, it could thus appear as a saviour, time and again, delivering the citizens of Pakistan from political disorder.

Within Bangladesh, the national narrative did not contribute to a sense of justice. In 1974, legislation was enacted to provide amnesty for collaborators in war crimes. Many were released form the prison, and few trials were concluded. The one conviction that has become famous is that of Chikan Ali. He too was given amnesty in 1976. The repeal of Article 12 of the Constitution which had placed a ban on the use of religion in politics, led to the revival of extremist and communal politics.  

Later in the nineties, mounting public demand mobilized into a popular Gono Adalat movement leading to a public enquiry in Dhaka’s Ramna Green, where charges were framed against leading members of the Al Badr force that had masterminded the killings and disappearances in 1971. Detailed evidence came to light in the course of the filming of channel 4 film War Crimes Files, and during the Gono Adalat hearings. Every year, newspaper accounts added more details to the memories of 1971.  

There must have been few families who did not share the suffering and pain of counting their friends and relations amongst the dead or wounded. Many were able to identify the perpetrators. as in the play, the aggressors had cleverly merged into their community, gaining influence through class and political alliances. This reversal creates a sense of betrayal, that grows into silence. The feeling of betrayal is even more pronounced in the case of women who were raped, widowed or who lost their homes. Because while violence against women entered the political rhetoric, individual voices were silenced, forcing them into isolation and alienation.  

Can survivors of violence now resurrect the space for the individual narrative? It is often said that women maintain silence because of a sense of shame. But women victims of atrocities in 1971 or later have talked, when they could find the space, they have expressed their bitterness at being forgotten. The shame is not theirs, it is a wall created by society to silence them. Again, it is argued that women are afraid to speak out against violence, but this is only because society isolates them. Where women have talked of their experiences of violence in 1971 and in other conflicts, they have found solidarity and support. They have emerged form their isolation raised their voices for social justice. Their narratives have indeed transcended from accounting for individual wrongs to a realization of social wrongs. A third argument used to maintain a silence over women’s experience of violence is that the past is best forgotten. But whose interest is served by this silence? The victims or the aggressors? And if this narrative is silenced would it not allow a repetition of the crimes, and a perpetuation of an environment which encouraged such crimes? 

The failure to account for the war crimes has told on the security of the individual and the community. Seeking retribution no easy task, particularly as it becomes linked to imbalances in power relationship, between individuals and groups. As the victims are often silenced... the irrationality of violence is concealed. And violence is repeated. In a post conflict society, revenge is no answer, since there can be no end to blood letting.  

Nevertheless, the struggle for justice itself can break the passivity of citizens and enable us to voice our collective moral indignation against deliberate and targeted acts of violence.  

The challenge is to create peace in our communities, to create a space for individual liberties and autonomy, for diversity and tolerance. To put an end to killing and counter killings, that may be carried out in the name of political dogmas. The narration of past violence by survivors gives a powerful message against the silences imposed by perpetrators. There are no tidy endings in a divisive society, but narratives that reflect the truth of people’s pasts can help us to trace the causes of insecurity and conflict in our present lives.