During the tumultuous days of the July Uprising in 2024, a name that surfaced repeatedly was that of Shamsuzzoha, an exceptional teacher and academician from the Department of Chemistry at Rajshahi University. Dr. Zoha came to the forefront to protect his students from the murderous onslaught of the Pakistani army, embodying the courage and moral conviction that seem alarmingly rare in contemporary Bangladesh. He was brutally killed by the Pakistani army on 18 February 1969 when police opened fire on the students on the Rajshahi University campus, and Dr. Zoha was there to save them.

During the period of Pakistan's rule, university teachers were among the primary targets of the army's ruthless campaign to silence dissenting voices. Their fearless protests against oppression marked them as enemies of the state. This unyielding courage, however, appears to have diminished over time. The July Movement of 2024 starkly highlighted the dearth of such courageous teachers willing to stand up for students against the violent actions of the Awami regime. Many students lamented that only a few teachers today exhibit the moral fortitude of Zoha, who put his life on the line to protect his students.

This lack of courage is not confined to a single episode such as the July Uprising. Throughout the entirety of the fascist regime and even before, most university teachers have often displayed a troubling subservience to political authority. Many have adjusted their principles to align with their career aspirations or political affiliations, rather than standing up for justice and academic integrity. This behaviour has rendered universities, once bastions of critical thought and resistance, complicit in perpetuating oppression by ruling regimes.

It is quite deplorable that for decades, a large number of students and, in some cases, a few teachers bore the brunt of government-backed student political organisations' repression on various university campuses, but most teachers chose to remain silent. Their lack of protest or resistance to such brutal acts is indicative of a broader failure to uphold their moral responsibilities. The plight of their students and colleagues, and the broader suffering within universities, went largely ignored.

A few of us attempted to challenge this silence through activism under the banner of the University Teachers Network. Yet, at rallies and protests we organised, the turnout of our peers was dismally low. The reasons for this apathy towards challenging authority are clear: fear of earning the wrath of political authorities, a reluctance to jeopardise personal benefits, and an overall lack of conviction in the face of injustice. This cowardly mindset has become a defining characteristic of many in our academic community.

The situation is not limited to university teachers; the broader intellectual community has also failed to meet its moral obligations. Writers, journalists, newspaper editors and columnists, along with other opinion makers and thought leaders of society, have remained either subservient or silent, unwilling to challenge the oppressive regime. This collective abdication of responsibility raises serious questions about the state of intellectual courage in Bangladesh.

If we are to honour the spirit of martyred intellectuals, we must confront this degenerated mindset. The ideals for which they sacrificed their lives demand a renewal of courage, integrity, and resistance among teachers and intellectuals. Unfortunately, the advent of "Bangladesh 2.0" does not guarantee a significant shift in this regard. The same patterns of fear and subservience may persist, undermining the progress and principles we claim to uphold.

At the same time, it is true that during the July Uprising, we saw quite a few university teachers and other intellectuals come forward in support of their students and the people in the movement. That gives us hope for the future.

By following the footsteps of these few courageous intellectuals, the time has come for the overall intelligentsia to reclaim their role as the conscience of society. This requires stepping out of the shadows of selfish interests and into the light of active resistance. Only then can we truly honour the legacy of Shamsuzzoha and the countless others who gave their lives for the pursuit of justice and truth.

Rushad Faridi is a professor in the Department of Economics at the University of Dhaka. He can be contacted at rushad.16@gmail.com.