V O I C E S

Bangladesh

Speeches matter

Today is 7 March. On this day 37 years ago, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman made one of the most well-known speeches in Bangla. The speech marked a milestone in Bangladesh’s quest for freedom. But 37 years on, we’re still waiting for the next speech, which never got made. 

One can classify most of history’s great speeches into two categories. First are those that seek to resist, to defy. FDR’s fireside chats, or JFK’s “Let them come to Berlin” speech are of this kind, as is the 7 March speech. Then, there is the other kind, which seeks to paint the vision of a better world. We have Pandit Nehru on the eve of India’s independence, and the Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr. What is Bangladesh’s equivalent of the “Tryst with destiny” or “I have a dream” speeches? So Mujib didn’t articulate what kind of Bangladesh he would want. So when secularism and socialism were introduced into the constitution in 1972, we didn’t know what they meant. 

Fine. Mujib played his part for us. What about his successors?

What about Ziaur Rahman? Today’s Bangladesh, with all its good and bad, is a result of Zia’s policies. When he introduced the word Bangladeshi in our passport, what did he mean? Did he mean an inclusive people’s-republic-type concept? Or did he mean an exclusive Bengali-Muslim-chauvinist idea?

What about Khaleda Zia and Hasina Wajed, both democratically elected prime ministers? What kind of Bangladesh did they want? What kind of Bangladesh do they want? Speeches matter. Speeches matter, that’s why we get fooled by anyone who can offer us a glimmer of hope. Speeches matter, that’s why when Fakhruddin Ahmed first addressed the nation, it felt exciting, even though at some level we already knew that it was a false dawn.
But we still wait for that next speech. And while we wait, we still draw inspiration from the last one.

– J Rahman, www.jrahman.wordpress.com

Tibet

Lhasa Eyewitness reports

Received by phone and email between 9:00 am and 1:00 pm (China time), 16 March 2008.

Eyewitness 1 (by email)
The rioting has been all over Lhasa, with Chinese and Muslim shops being targeted and destroyed – over 1000 Chinese shops. It’s a massive riot, with cars and motorbikes burned, Chinese shops’ contents splayed out onto the streets, and Han Chinese being hunted down and sometimes killed with traditional Tibetan knives. The Han Chinese are terrified, and (surprisingly?) don’t understand what’s happening. All Tibetans we know think this will continue for days if not weeks.

Today [Saturday morning] is martial law, there are soldiers every five feet on all major roads. I’ve been reading international articles, and they’re suggesting the monks are behind this – I think the monks started it earlier in the week, but yesterday’s riots were all over the city and undertaken by all kinds of Tibetans. One friend saw 11-year-old students in their uniforms throwing stones at tanks.

Sunday morning: We have heard there are so called “massacres” over by the Great Mosque, with intense fighting between Muslims and Tibetans. A Tibetan out on Friday or Saturday told us another Tibetan told him he saw 50 Tibetans and a child get gunned down by soldiers.

Eyewitness 2 (translated from phone conversation)
The whole thing was very surprising. I heard a commotion outside and looked out to see about 15 very young police or army in the street. Suddenly, it was just 15 young police facing a group of 500-1000 Tibetans. The Tibetans were armed with iron bars and rocks and chunks of concrete. They charged the police/army.  I was so amazed that all sorts of Tibetans were taking part; it was a total riot mentality. I am also very surprised that they did not take out the surveillance camera on the corner of the street – everyone knows they were being recorded. They didn’t seem to care at all.

I have talked with army personnel and they appear very disorganised. They do not know what is going on and who is giving orders. Now it looks like a total war zone. Friends heard the train whistle, so we think the train is running; but we assume only outgoing traffic. We think a lot of Chinese people will be leaving Lhasa.

– Michel Dunham, www.micheldunham.blogs.com

India

Citizen journalist

People on the street always have the best lines. None of my deeply thought-out scripts or pun-laden headlines ever match up. It’s probably the combined effect of their resignation and rage, the unchecked discharge of colloquial lingo, or maybe even the freedom of unaccountability. But they always say it best. Which is why some channels (like the one I work for) decided to hand the mike to the man/woman on the street, to make them single-cause journalists. The idea seems simple enough: storytellers are everywhere. Hence, a Citizen Journalist Show.

My role is to be the quasi-reporter. Helping anguished first-time reporters to spit fire, take on erring officials, shoot blurred visuals of appalling callousness. Many citizen journalists have terrific stories, but cannot articulate them suitably on an English-language channel. They visibly freeze as soon as the camera comes on. Language and lens has been our, and their, greatest stumbling block. But I marvel at how the soft-spoken woman turns into a raging truth-seeker when she encounters deaf ears everywhere.

And then there are quirks. I had to keep barking at a guy who was a detail-fiend; another man couldn’t understand volume control; another refused to do any retakes when there was a crowd watching. But somehow, even if their eyes are shifty, even if they lapse into their mother tongue or lose the point, they still say it best. But the blind citizen journalist is still not allowed to open a bank account; the Bangaloreans still don’t have a cycling lane; the old zoo valiantly guarded by Mumbaiites is still coming down. We repeatedly visit these causes with the citizens, but many give up. Those who plough ahead, however, see the cause to the end, even after they stop reporting on camera.

– Rohini Mohan, www.pebblesthrow.blogspot.com

Pakistan

Truly untitled

It’s weird, our situation. Bombs going off, children being threatened in schools and the safest of the large cities now under scrutiny of losing that title. A solution seems afar, nowhere in reach. And I don’t blame the government (not as much as Geo would, at least). How would you stop a suicide bomber? And how can you break terrorist networks? (I guess that could be blamed on the government, but I’m still inclined towards sympathy.) We have the extremist ideologies on one hand, and then we have other crises. We live in a country where people can’t afford food or bijli, and when they want to pay there’s none available.

Half of me wants to leave Pakistan; the other half wants to stay here. The half that wants to leave is probably understandable. The other half is confusing. Whenever I feel I want to dissociate myself from this country, I feel I can’t. Can I ever support another cricket team but Pakistan’s? Can I stop speaking Urdu? I guess everyone’s in a fix. We’re at war, with ourselves. We understand that, yet do not admit it. I’m not sure we ever will.

– Zeerak Ahmed, www.chowrangi.com

The Maldives

What nationalism?

The national day has come and gone, and what little nationalism we had was on display as many vehicles sported the national flag. I have always questioned this peculiar kind of nationalism. We are still very confused about where our patriotism lies. And why not – by Constitution we are Muslim before we are Maldivian. As a tiny country that has to depend on handouts, we find ourselves constantly torn between appeasing our ‘brothers’ in oil-rich Muslim nations and the West. I think this tug-of-war on our interests has made us ambivalent and confused.

What we need is to revive our sense of nationalism (if ever there was one) – not by shamelessly flaunting religion, but by weaving what is left of our culture and heritage together into a unique strand. Our leaders have used the facade of religious unity to fool us into believing that we are a proud nation of brothers and sisters, and as a result of our one religion. We need to realise that our people, Maldivians, come in different shapes, sizes and, more importantly, widely different belief systems.

The instant we say that we are united because we are Muslims, that very millisecond in time, the fabric of our nationalism rips into several pieces, and our collective patriotism weakens. So don’t talk to me about nationalism.

– Simon, www.randomreflexions.com

Tibet/Burma

Between ‘barbarism’ and ‘humanism’

Only a hundred years ago imperial powers attempted to slice China off, in ways far worse than the way post-WWII Germany was sliced off. History is full of examples of bullied and persecuted nations and communities behaving exactly the same way their past masters and oppressors had. Each time a people or peoples express popular desire to be free of domination, it is without fail met with repression. Tibet’s ongoing challenge to Beijing’s hold is simply the latest episode in the unending series of violent and volatile conflicts between ‘barbarism’ and ‘humanism’.

The greatest irony is that standard-bearers of ‘Civilisation’ – in their nation-state forms – have from time to time behaved anything but civilised. Tagore got it right when he observed bluntly, but truthfully, “Civilisations [might I add nation states] are built on human corpses.”

Meanwhile from another ‘civilisation’: a news story of the visit of the new ‘ceremonial’ prime minister of Thailand (the real power is Thaksin) to the Burmese seat of the kingdom – Nay Pyi Taw. With her resource-rich neighbours, Thailand is pursuing a type of ‘brothel diplomacy’. You go to brothels for specific objectives, without regard for the place or the people. You get what you want and you leave. As improbably as it may sound, the Thai PM talked about meditation and the junta. They do indeed inhale and exhale over there – natural gas.

– Zarni, by e-mail

India

I used to call this the torture chamber. I gradually came to realise that it was the chamber of death instead. I was not even allowed to stay in hospital for long though the doctors felt it was necessary in order to stabilise my blood pressure. Even though they constantly pressured me mentally to leave the country, I refused to budge. I was determined I would not leave this country. When they saw it was pointless trying to destroy my mind, they attempted to destroy my body. In this they succeeded by ruining my health, which leaves me with no other alternative but to leave this country.

– Taslima Nasreen, March 2008

With this issue, the editors are pleased to re-introduce V O I C E S, a section in which will appear a range of small pieces culled from here and there. Items that appear in V O I C E S have been edited slightly for space and consistency.