The lasting symbolism of Bangabandhu

Thousands waited to catch a glimpse of the man who had single-handedly captivated the minds of the Bengali people. Millions sat anxiously by their radios, whilst hoping to get firsthand news of his anticipated arrival. He left as a shining icon and returned as the President of a sovereign republic. An orator of the highest calibre, a vibrant force of political energy and a leader of the masses, he surely enchanted the imagination of the entire country. After all, it was no average politician or celebrity. After all, it was their Bangabandhu, our Bangabandhu.

When Sheikh Mujibur Rahman was arrested on the night of March 25, 1971, he left his motherland with no certainty about his life or the future of his beloved people. Mujib was many things, but even his biggest adversaries did not once doubt his courage. Cowardice is not a trait one dares to associate with Bangabandhu. And rightly so. He might have been Husseyn Shaheed Suhrawardy's direct political heir, but Bangladesh's Founding Father also paid justice to the title of Sher-e-Bangla accredited to AK Fazlul Haq. When he was forced into confinement in Pakistan, Sheikh Mujib remained faithful to the Almighty and hopeful about his people. It is impossible to truly imagine what Mujib actually went through in the Pakistani prisons. But what is sure is this: he never gave up and never gave in. After all this, he returned to Dhaka as Bangladesh's sole leader. All his hopes, all his fight, all his efforts, all his passion, all his guile, all his oratory—they had all culminated into a beautiful, sovereign, independent Bangladesh. He inspired us to dream. And our people reciprocated. The one and only Bangabandhu had arrived to his delighted 70 million family members.

Now, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, the Administrator, and Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, the Leader of the masses, are two very different entities for the sake of analysis. It is unwise to establish Bangabandhu's rights and wrongs without understanding the context of post-1971 Bangladesh. And hence we leave that to our historians and academics. But for the average Bangladeshi in 1971, Mujib was simply Bangabandhu, Mujib Bhai, Sheikh Shaheb or Khoka. He was the symbolic expression of the Bangladeshi liberation struggle and the antithesis of Pakistani junta rule. What happened from 1972-1975 is up for political debate, but on January 10, 1972, Sheikh Mujib returned to Bangladesh amidst a wave of popularity rarely seen in the modern world. He had not physically participated in the war. He was not even in proximity to the war zone. He was not leading the Mujibnagar government. Yet in not doing so, he did more than anyone could possibly imagine. Bangladesh's nine-month struggle for independence was, after all, the product of Sheikh Mujib's decades-long efforts to establish the rule of the people in our country. Mujib's arrest, Mujib's confinement and Mujib's release represented Bangladesh's entire liberation story through one man. How could we not love him?

On this great day of Bangabandhu's return, let us establish a few things. Sheikh Mujib did not return as the leader of the Awami League, but as the leader of Bangladesh. He should not be revered by those who support the Awami League only, but be admired on all sides of the political aisle. Sadly, our political parties have used Mujib's legacy for their own benefits. BNP's efforts to disrupt Sheikh Mujibur Rahman's political legacy by observing August 15 as Khaleda Zia's birthday and controversial speeches by Tareq Zia from London have not gone well with the people. Nevertheless, even though one has to thank the Awami League for upholding the legacy of Bangabandhu, they cannot and should not have a monopoly on Sheikh Mujibur Rahman. Sadly, we are indeed constructing a society where the younger generation simply construe Mujib as the popularising tool of the Awami League. But he is something much bigger. In using Sheikh Mujib's name in the way that it has been used in the recent past, are we not tarnishing the incomparable achievements of our leader? Are we not selfishly undermining the reach of Bangabandhu?

People of Bangladesh do not like cheap political stunts like BNP's celebration of August 15 as a birthday. But neither do people like it when the country's Founding Father is used in the way he is used by the party which he gave his life to. We should be honoured to say that a person like Sheikh Mujibur Rahman inspired us in our struggle for liberation. But we should never use his name for personal gain. It is time that we, as a society, study Bangabandhu, his ideals, his beliefs and his legacy in greater depth. And it is time that the totality of Bangladesh accepts his achievements and contributions to the country and its identity. In doing so, would Bangladeshis be deterred from analysing Bangabandhu's shortcomings? Absolutely not. It is as important for historians to understand this if they are to give a full picture of Bangabandhu. Were the likes of Kemal Ataturk, Nelson Mandela or George Washington saints? Of course not. But in no uncertain terms, they were all revolutionary champions as Sheikh Mujib is.

In conclusion, Sheikh Mujib should not be a subject of a verbal battle between the Awami League and the BNP. He is not a tool of political games. Let January 10 remind us of the unifying characteristic of Bangabandhu and his affection for the people. Let us not simply relegate him to the Awami League's history, but celebrate his life as it was, and do so as proud Bangladeshis. Bangabandhu is ours; he belongs to all of us.

The writer is a student of Economics and International Relations at the University of Toronto.

E-mail: aftab.ahmed@mail.utoronto.ca