The police were the only ones being violent
Originally published on Global Voices
Image via Nepali Times, used with permission.
This story by Bangladeshi photojournalist Shahidul Alam was first published on Nepali Times. An edited version is republished below as part of a content-sharing agreement.
It would be a mistake to see this as simply a demand for more jobs. The quota (reform) movement, justified as it is, is simply the tip of the iceberg. A rampant government running roughshod over its people for so very long has led to extreme discontent.
The quota issue has merely lit the fuse to this tinderbox. As citizens counted the dead and the injured, Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina fiddled, advising attendees at an aquaculture and seafood conference on tourism prospects in Cox’s Bazar.
The original quota was designed shortly after independence in 1972 as an interim arrangement to acknowledge the contribution of freedom fighters who constituted less than 0.25 percent of the population.
Since a government known to be incredibly corrupt is responsible for creating the list of freedom fighters, over 50 years later, the 120-fold allocation through a 30 percent quota has become an easy back door for party cadres to much sought-after government employment.
The resentment had resulted in protests in 2008 and 2013, but it gathered steam in 2018. When repressive measures failed to quell that unrest, the prime minister in a moment of rage, overstepped her authority and cancelled the entire system.
This had never been a demand of the protesters, who recognised the need for positive discrimination for disadvantaged communities. There are plenty of other reasons for the unrest. The price of essential goods has skyrocketed over the years, and people have their backs against the wall.
Meanwhile, the prime minister herself publicly announces that her former “peon” has amassed USD 3.4 million and only travels by helicopter. This is not the only one to travel by helicopter. Choppers were sent yesterday to rescue police trapped on a rooftop by angry protesters.
July 15, 2024. It was reminiscent of 2018. The police van with water cannons and the long line of policemen standing at the Nilkhet corner on Monday made it abundantly clear that they were prepared. What were they prepared for?
Certainly not the defence of unarmed students or the general public. They failed to lift a finger when the students were being attacked by the armed gangs of the Bangladesh Chhatra League (BCL), the ruling party’s student organisation. The BCL was clearly the one the police were on standby to defend.
As it turned out, there was little the unarmed students could do against the helmeted armed pro-government vigilantes who had been left loose, and the police were content to let the mayhem continue, stepping in only when the ferocity of people power took the gangs aback.
We walked past the blood and the strewn sandals in the streets. People stopped us to say the injured had been taken to Dhaka Medical College Emergency Ward.
BCL activists took positions around the ward where some of the injured were being treated while others marched around the wards, weapons in hand; the police conveniently stayed away. They continued to look away when BCL vigilantes went inside the ward to beat up injured students.
There was no need to intervene. BCL was not in danger. The nation was, democracy was, common decency was, and the public was in grave danger, but that was not their concern. The fact that the protection of the public was their primary task had never been part of the equation. Several were killed all over the country that day.
“Justice will take its own course” is a common refrain of the law minister. The separation of the judiciary and the executive has never existed in Bangladesh. With this government, it has merged into one.
It is used whenever the government wants to play good cop/bad cop. The court enacts government directives. The government takes credit. The court takes blame. The quota drama is no exception.
Torture cells in public universities. Suppression of all forms of dissent. Jailing of opposition activists. The extra-judicial killings, the disappearances. Huge concessions given to India, who have, in return, helped prop up this illegal regime. All are causes of anger.
Image via Nepali Times, used with permission.
In a recent Facebook status, Abu Sayeed, the unarmed student of Begum Rokeya University whom police had pumped four rubber bullets into, had written an ode to his favourite teacher Shamsuzzoha, a chemistry teacher at Rajshahi University, who had died at the hands of the Pakistani army in 1971 while trying to save the lives of his students.
Yes, you too will die, but while you are alive don’t be spineless. Support just causes. Come out to the streets. Be a shield for the students. It is then that you’ll be respected and honoured. Don’t fade away in the annals of time, through your death. Stay alive forever. Stay Shamsuzzoha.
No chopper had arrived, nor, indeed, had any attempt been made at rescuing the hapless student. He became Shamsuzzoha.
The televised murder is an indictment of a rogue government that has long lost its right to rule. The defiant outstretched arms of the young man, a televised murder that will remain etched in public memory. His body shudders after the first bullet, yet defiant, he stands, then another bullet, and another and yet another. All from close range. The body crouches, then crumples and folds. His outstretched arms as he had faced the police will become the Tiananmen Square moment in Bangladesh’s history.
Border Guard Bangladesh (BGB), inept at protecting its citizens from becoming victims of the regular target practice by Indian Border Security Forces, seem happy to turn their own guns towards unarmed students instead. The police were clearly lying when they claimed they had fired (sound) grenades to try and control unruly students.
There were only four students at Raju Bhashkorjo in the Dhaka University Campus. The only ones who had been able to get past the BCL and police cordon. They wanted to hold a funeral for Abu Sayeed and other slain friends. When the police started shoving them away, they lay down on the ground in protest. They were surrounded by journalists. The police hurled a sound grenade which sent both the journalists and students scurrying. They then hurled further grenades at the journalists and bystanders left standing. That was when my colleague got hurt.
The police were the only ones being violent. The entire space was encircled by hundreds of armed police. There were armoured vehicles. Water cannon trucks and even a prison van. I wonder which country has supplied our police with the 48 mm sound grenades (NF24. NENF24BP. MFG: 2022. Bangladesh Police/BP). The grenade was hurled directly at her. It was the first time she had joined a protest. At least she got to see how brave our police force is.
A group of feminists who had planned to gather in the Shahbag Square to express solidarity with the quota protesters should not have posed a major threat. Police and government vigilantes didn't allow them to gather, so they regrouped outside the Naripokkho office in Dhanmondi. They were attacked too. Safia Azim was injured but did not require hospitalisation.
The law minister, known for lying through his teeth, said earlier on BBC that it was the protesters who instigated the violence. Meanwhile, the state-run BTV, the National Television Station, had been set on fire. Mobile data was blocked. Things were escalating. That night the internet went down completely.
Rumours spread about the military moving in. Fuelled partially by sightings of a convoy of APCs in the streets. Other sightings of 15 helicopters taking off from the prime minister’s official residence gave fuel to the rumours that the prime minister was trying to make a getaway. The sound of shelling and gunfire rang throughout the night.
The internet had been down, as had BTV, the national television station. Over 50 people have allegedly been killed. Pro-government news outlets describe the protesting students as “miscreants,” a throwback to the term used by the Pakistani Army in 1971 during the Bangladesh Liberation War.
There are other similarities. A flailing tyrant is lashing out to survive against an enraged public which has shaken free of its fear of a repressive regime. The attempt to disrupt the morning protest outside the parliament building in memory of Abu Sayeed failed. Far too many protesters had gathered.
The internet had been partially restored, but not BTV. That’s when news of attacks all across the country started pouring in. The left leader Zonayed Saki and other party members, had been badly beaten in Purana Paltan. The police-backed vigilantes were desperately trying to quell the increasingly angry protesters. The desperate government offered a deal.
The court would convene on Sunday, and the authorities were prepared to engage in dialogue. “Not over spilled blood,” the students replied. Fresh rumours of the military having been given magisterial powers and asked to intervene “in aid to civil power” seem ironic. The people have spoken. The end is nigh.