Masses, intellectuals and the Orwellian state

For ordinary Bangladeshis bereft of smart phones and computers, it was a baffling experience. Last week they were bombarded with the message that the Al Jazeera report titled All the Prime Minister's Men was the outcome of a mischievous conspiracy. Commentators and pundits were at pains to point out that it was a concerted effort of the defeated quarters to tarnish the image of the government and the state (for many those being synonymous).

The ordinary folks were further told by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs that the documentary was nothing but a "false, defamatory and politically motivated smear campaign" to destabilise the secular democratic government of Bangladesh. Echoing the same reasoning in a rejoinder, the Bangladesh Army Headquarters said it condemned in the strongest possible words the "concocted and ill-intended report by a vested group". The security force further stated it was an attempt "to disrupt the harmony of different government organs with a view to obstructing the growth and development of the country". Citizens were provided with the "clarification" that the video was prepared by putting together clips of different official, social and private events using technology. "Several disconnected events are edited together giving voices at the background", it was claimed.

One does not understand the logic behind the MoFA assertion that the documentary "fails to even mention the horrific genocide in 1971…" and the relevance of the barbarity of Pakistani forces and their Jamaat collaborators to this particular report. Analyst Kamal Ahmed fittingly asked the question of whether a mention of 1971 would make the report more authentic in the Prothom Alo on February 5.

For the masses, it was a perplexing situation. While they were being provided with what appeared to be a stout rebuttal of an allegedly anti-state documentary, they were initially deprived of its contents as the mainstream media refrained from publishing them, thanks to the omnipotent Digital Security Act (DSA). Quite pertinently and candidly, an editorial commentary of this daily on February 3, 2021, noted: "We are facing the absurd situation of publishing the government response without publishing what the government is responding to".

The state in Bangladesh has practically usurped the citizens' right to access diverse sources of information, an essential ingredient of a vibrant and democratic polity. By mobilising a plethora of laws (such as the DSA, Special Power Act, sedition and defamation laws) and administrative practices, the state has arrogated the role to decide the type of information and interpretation of events that people should be exposed to. The draconian and not-so-subtle methods employed to implement this unconstitutional agenda generate sufficient pressure on active citizens to remain silent, and on the media to self-censor.

Curiously, a good segment of the intellectual elite in Bangladesh is quite comfortable with such a dispensation. Instead of expressing their displeasure with the DSA and its wanton application, they make every effort to justify the freedom-curtailing laws and practices. Their Quixotian saber-rattling with the religious obscurantist forces (which to certain extent draws sustenance from the government patronage) and the bogey of Islamic terrorism come in handy in such rationalisation.

It is of little surprise that soon after the Al Jazeera telecast, this powerful and vocal segment of the intellectual elite wasted no time in finding "a nefarious conspiracy of defeated forces" against the government and the state. Instead of calling on the concerned authorities to present their case on the serious charges of corruption and abuse of state power highlighted by the documentary, an association of teachers called on the government "to take action against all conspirators".

Likewise, 15 celebrated upholders of the spirit of war of independence accused the channel of "presenting distorted information with malafide intention" terming it "devoid of substance" and "against the spirit of the Liberation War, secularism and as anti-Bangladeshi".

In the television talk-shows, representatives of this cohort of intellectuals found the documentary as an attempt to tarnish the image of a government that is forging ahead with the national development agenda by the forces that are jealous of this achievement. Some tried to insinuate a senior politician for his family relationship with one of the protagonists. Others accused Al Jazeera of presenting a one-sided story, notwithstanding the fact that in the end the documentary clearly publicised that all those cited in it were invited to present their views but most refrained from taking up the offer.

It appears both the state and its intellectual legion are in cahoots assuming that the national interest is better served by dishing out "facts" to the masses as the former deem appropriate. Therefore, they have taken it upon themselves not to allow the masses to know the "other side of the story", lest they are corrupted by it.

It is true that the documentary in question suffers from severe limitations. Its overt dependence on narratives of one or two individuals who brought serious charges against senior state functionaries fell far short of ethical journalism. While individuals and organisations are entitled to criticise such shortcomings, their inability to take into cognisance examples of other well-documented and widely reported abuses of power is illustrative of a tendency to shield the powers that be, regardless of the severity of the allegations.

Everyone is entitled to hold opinion about the personal background and intention of individuals involved in the Al Jazeera documentary, but there should not be any doubt that the onus rests on the concerned authorities to clear their position on the substantive allegations made in the piece. The claims of falsifying passport, national identify card, marriage certificate and bank account details by abusing state authority must be unambiguously clarified. Likewise, credible evidence must be furnished about the source country of the surveillance equipment. No less important is that law enforcement officials must come up with convincing proof that fugitives were not provided safe passage to attend a high-profile social event in Dhaka.

The official explanation about the purchase of highly intrusive mobile phone surveillance equipment "for one of the Army Contingents to be deployed in the UN Peacekeeping Mission" has been debunked by the UN itself. On February 4, a spokesperson for the UN said that this was not the case and that its peacekeepers do not operate "electronic equipment of the nature described in the Al Jazeera reporting". The Bangladesh security force's response has triggered the UN calling for a full investigation into evidence of corruption and illegality that was exposed in the documentary. If there are follow-up consequences, would anyone be held responsible? One wonders why the patriotic intellectuals who are generally quite vociferous in protecting the image of the country have opted to remain silent on this issue.

The claims by some intellectuals that the concerned channel engages in sensationalism and does not enjoy much credibility is belied by the fact that it was Al Jazeera's reporting that exposed the 1MDB scandal of the Najib government and the corruption of Maldive's former strongman Abdullah Yameen, as pointed out by analyst Kamal Ahmed in Prothom Alo.

The Al Jazeera episode has laid bare the stark reality that the right of Bangladeshi people to access information and a diverse range of interpretation of events stand severely curtailed. The state, supported by the partisan intelligentsia, has effectively restricted that right by legislative actions and administrative practices. Time has come to reclaim the right that has been one of the principal aspirations of the War of Liberation.

C R Abrar is an academic with interest in human rights and migration issues.