Bangladesh Tribunal Prosecution

LETTING SHADOWS FALL BEHIND

Maryam Sakeenah

When a friend from Bangladesh gifted me a jute bag with the Bangladesh flag motif painted on it, I asked her to explain the symbolism. She told me it stood for the rising sun over the green fields, reddened with the blood of liberation martyrs.

After the terrible atrocities in 1971 in which many innocent Bengalis lost their lives, retributive justice to the perpetrators of brutal crime needed to be carried out by Pakistan. This was never done, consumed as the country was in an unseeing jingoism. George Orwell wrote in his memoirs of the Spanish Civil War, ‘Everyone believes in the atrocities of the enemy and disbelieves in those of his own side.’

Resultantly, in Bangladesh, these atrocities have become over the years part of the collective memory and the national narrative. The hurt and anger has festered to the beat of nationalistic fervour and has turned into an unrelenting, bitter hate and hardened prejudice against the enemy.

On the backdrop of this charged nationalistic sentiment, in 2010 the International Crimes Tribunal was established by this government, though its legitimacy and capacity to deliver justice have been put to question by objective observers.  (http://www.economist.com/news/briefing/21568349-week-chairman-bangladeshs-international-crimes-tribunal-resigned-we-explain)

There is also the concern that the much-awaited decision announced recently was more a political than judicial decision. The Jamat e Islami is an important part of the political opposition against the current regime. The primary accused belong to the Jamat, widely considered to be complicit in Pakistan army’s violence against the Bengalis in 1971.

Justice is a great thing and often a vital part in healing and reconciliation. The events in Bangladesh carry the pretence of a justice that gratifies the strong national desire for vengeance. Whether real justice can be delivered given the lack of integrity and transparency about the proceedings, is open to question. The presiding judge Nizamul Huq resigned following questions over the publication of private conversations which cast doubt on the court proceedings. The Economist writes, “The e-mails and phone conversations we have seen raise profound questions about the trial... the government tried to put pressure on Mr Nizamul... he worked improperly with a lawyer based in Brussels, and that the lawyer co-operated with the prosecution_ raising questions about conflicts of interest. In Mr Sayeedi’s case (head of JI, given a death sentence this week) it points to the possibility that, even before the court had finished hearing testimony from the defence witnesses, Mr Nizamul was already expecting a guilty verdict.”

Held under the thumb of mass public furore and the voracious appetite for vendetta, the verdict seems to have been preordained. Justice is blinded under pressure of emotionally charged public sentiment, and the hand of blind justice has a fell sweep. George Orwell adds, “As far as the mass of the people go, the extraordinary swings of opinion which occur nowadays, the emotions which can be turned on...  are the result of newspaper and radio hypnosis." Doling out death sentences in such an environment is a travesty of justice.  In a conversation of October 14th, between Mr Nizamul and Ziauddin, the Brussels-based lawyer of Bangladeshi origin, the judge refers to the government as “absolutely crazy for a judgment. The government has gone totally mad. They have gone completely mad, I am telling you. They want a judgment by 16th December...it’s as simple as that.” December 16th, known as Victory Day in Bangladesh, is the anniversary of the surrender by Pakistani forces in the war of independence. (The Economist)

While the demand for justice to war criminals is understandable and legitimate, the concern is about whether this public sentiment has been used for political opportunism. Given the traumatic birth of Bangladesh and the horrific memories haunting public imagination, a regime credited with bringing offenders to book will win hearts. Given the many failures and weaknesses of this regime as well as the fact that the Jamat is a vital member of the opposition alliance, there seems to be a method to the madness. 

The social consequences have been grave with violence spiralling out of control. The long-term repercussions are graver still. Opposition to the verdict has been brutally crushed by the state machinery and violent reprisals have victimized hundreds. The crowds calling for a death sentence are led by secular-liberal segments of the society and have massive support from members of the civil society. The opposition to the death sentence comes from the Islamists led by the Jamat e Islami which has sizable following. The scars this will leave will drive a wedge between these two segments along ideological lines. It will accentuate and intensify a dangerous polarization which in the long run shall be in the interests of none. With the two opposed camps locked in confrontation against each other, a state eager to use force and one or both groups- having deep roots into the society-  often violently lashing out against the other, the future looks grim. A gaping split across the social spectrum with a spattering of violence is the perfect recipe for disaster- the same disaster that Pakistan is mired up in. This dampens down the hopes for a stable, peaceful, progressive Bangladesh. 

In this wider context, it becomes apparent that it is not vengeance but clemency that Bangladesh needs. Violence begets violence and sets off a vicious cycle. That vicious cycle needs to be broken. Forgetting bitter memories is hard, but sometimes, a bit of voluntary historical amnesia makes the future clearer and brighter for us. Justice and peace are great ends to be striven for. But the tribunal and its decision is at best a pretense and at worst a grave travesty of justice. Bangladesh is a rapidly progressing country and has risen out of the blood and fire it was born in- I hope its great people would prefer to look ahead, refusing to let their sentiment be used for political purpose. For, when you look towards the sun- which, as my friend explained- is the proud national symbol of a country that deserves to rise out of a bloody past- you let the shadows fall behind you.  

Love in the Time of Narcissism

LOVE IN THE TIME OF NARCISSISM

Maryam Sakeenah

Arguably, love is the highest sentiment the human spirit is capable of. In essence, it is selfless, generous, liberating, sublime. It purges one of all that holds one down to the mundane and earthy. Kahlil Gibran famously writes:

Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself. 

Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;

For love is sufficient unto love.

And think not you can direct the course of love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.

The contemporary world is characterized by a materialism that has banished the spiritual and hence objectified and commercialized spiritual values. The sacred sentiment of love has not been spared from being grotesquely tainted by it- so that we have it expressed in expensive, stark-red balloons, roses, chocolates on sale all over shops in Pakistan on a particular day in the year. The local florist explained to an appalled me that the reason why the flowers were so shockingly costly was on account of something called ‘Vanteen Day.’

The hyped up, almost frenzied festivities on Valentine’s Day depict this cult of Narcissism that has gripped us in its monstrous clutches. This makes our deepest and most sacred, private sentiment be expressed with a loud, bawdy exhibitionism. This overzealous celebration of carnal passion symbolizes the perversion of the sacred that is an inevitable result of materialism.

We are taught to express and exhibit passion to satiate our selfish lusts by partaking of the rituals to the goddess of commercialized love- to spend enough to ‘prove’ our love; to fall in love with ‘love’ romanticized by the popular media; to breathlessly pursue romantic love, chase it, possess it, flaunt it and gloat over it lecherously.

The circus on Valentine’s Day is driven by imperatives of the capitalistic marketplace ordering us to ‘shop till you drop’ to prove you love enough. This commodification of love exploits a basic human emotion in order to make big business. In the process, love is reduced to chocolate bars, rosebuds, balloons- or diamond rings and designer dresses- according to income bracket, social class and of course, taste. 'Money is the name of the game', they say...

In a class discussion when I mentioned to my students how Valentines Day goes against the spirit and ethos of Islam, a student candidly retorted, ‘But it does not harm anyone’. Certainly it does not, at a fleeting look. However, deep within, when we become part of it, we concede that love is a ‘thing’ to be flaunted and bought with money, not made out of real, lived experience of sharing, giving, forbearing, forgiving, growing, treading life’s jagged paths together with a hand to hold, a shoulder to lean on. We negate the fact that love is made and found and relished everyday through little things you cannot buy with money; garnered painstakingly through smiles and tears and wounds and fears. In the process of celebrating this ‘harmless’ festivity, we actually condone the cruel, horrible things that go on outside the gates of girls’ colleges in the city, and inside young lonely hearts. I remember how in my college days girls used to talk of the surprise gifts from ‘secret’ or ‘known’ admirers and the 'less fortunate’ ones shrank into themselves with shame and a haunting sense of loneliness and inferiority- often in the physical sense. I found it heinous. The balloons and red-shirted urchins rampaging the streets and marketplaces tell me it is far worse for young people today.

Mark Vernon writes in his remarkable article, ‘Is Romantic Love a Bad Thing?’:

“I suspect that the desire for a peak experience of love has eclipsed the fact that love is primarily about others. The romantic myth would have us fall in love with love, paradoxically not with another. This twisted love whispers that it does not much matter who you fall for, only that you fall in love.

There is a spiritual dimension to this romantic addiction too. The philosopher Simon May has proposed that while many have given up on God in the West, we still long for the unconditional love that God used to offer.

But godless, we seek instead unconditional love from our fellow humans. We make them gods, and of course they fail us. And then love turns to hate. It's a desire that, because of the excess, destroys love."

Ibrahim A.S- seeking spiritual fulfilment and coming to rest in the embrace of the Divine- had declared, “I love not that which fades away.” (The Noble Quran). Selfless love that heals and gives and forgives arises out of this complete self-surrender encountering and recognizing the Perfect, Absolute Truth which Muhammad (PBUH)-bloodied and wounded at Taif had called 'The Light of Thy Countenance that rends all darknesses.' Right after this heartfelt exclamation, he had managed to forgive those that had pelted stones and hurled abuses at him. One can understand why the festivals of Islam include compulsory charity and sharing of joy with the less privileged: heart to God, hand to man.

Modesty, said the Prophet (PBUH) is the distinguishing trait of Islam. Modesty implies revulsion towards exhibitionism and obscenity; it implies protection of the private, it implies dignity, humility, quietude, sincerity, purity. It is the crowning glory of a believer. The uproarious celebration of Valentine’s Day betrays the essence of modesty. It is a mindless aping of a culture entrenched in the Overblown but Minimal Self.

EPILOGUE:

The age demanded an image

Of its accelerated grimace,

Something for the modern stage,

The age demanded chiefly a mould in plaster, 

Made with no loss of time,

‘All things are a flowing’,

Sage Heraclitus says;

But a tawdry cheapness

Shall outlast our days. 

Decreed in the market place.

(Ezra Pound: Hugh Selwyn Mauberley)

Of being a woman...

THE PRESSURE TO LOOK 'RIGHT'

Maryam Sakeenah

In her article 'The Balancing Act of Being Female', Lisa Wade talks of how as a woman one has to conform to expectations of behaviour in varying situations; how it is a daily battle to play up to the demands an oversexed society puts on women. From dress to demeanour, all is sized up and judged for social appropriacy: when being flirty may be appealing, and what crosses the line into 'asking for it.' At the workplace it ought to be 'proper' but not in the least 'prudish', and a slight misdemeanour may just spill it over into inappropriately 'cheeky' and hence wholly undesirable.

It is a lot of pressure which most women agree to subject themselves to as they dress in the rightly sized heels to convey the attitude the occasion demands. Often, the pressure from the society is not recognized as it is mistaken for the woman's freedom and natural right to look good and feel desired. However, this may make women spend more than their ability to get that right sort of look to make them win the nod of approval from a society that objectifies femininity.

On the flip side, the pressure it builds on women who may look different, to conform and look like who they are not, is brutally oppressive. One of my teenaged students stopped me on my way to class, sniffling and holding back the torrent of tears, desperate for help. She said she wished to end her life because 'everyone hates me and makes fun of me because I am ugly and I am not feminine enough.' The girl was a brainy, hardworking one scoring excellent grades usually, but suffered terrible pressure from peers because she did not dress or wax or style her hair like other girls her age did. I was revolted by our collective inability to accept human beings as they are without trying to smooth the rough edges to make us all clones of the ideal stereotype set down by society.

The ideal stereotype is reinforced relentlessly through advertisements and the entertainment industry that creates images that exercise enormous influence on our minds. Grotesque billboards stare down at the city telling us how 'Slim is the in thing', while T.V commercials tell us that not having the latest brand of cellphone or the fairest skin tone makes one highly ineligible for marriage; and that people who stutter stand no chance at all for their appalling, socially incorrect inability. The images, stereotypes and values created by the entertainment, cosmetic and the advertising industries are brutally insensitive and build pressure on women to look, dress, act a certain way or be condemned to social marginalization. The materialist-commercial ethic  values physicality over and above all else, and this is far worse for women due to the commercial obsession with the woman's body for selling soap or cooking oil or cellphones.

The pressure this builds plays havoc with individual lives as it smothers the natural diversity of human beings. God made us in varying shapes, sizes, colours and personalities simply because that is how the world was meant to be. The colours made by God are painted in a tawdry plastic hue in one unvarying, flat stroke of sameness. Women mutilate their own bodies to feel more accepted: botox, nosejobs, liposuction and plastic surgeries have been steadily on the rise in this society.

In the context of all this, the Muslim veil takes on significance. For me, it has always meant a refusal to subject myself to judgement by a commercialized, oversexed society. It is immensely liberating from the pressure of having to conform to the social standard of how I ought to look. It is a refusal to allow myself to be judged merely by how I look or what I wear, a refusal to be subjected to the lustful stare of an onlooker. I spend far less on my clothes, hair and makeup than most women in my income bracket. The veil for me is liberty. Breaking me free from the fetters, it raises me onto a more spiritual and intellectual plane, and this defines my social interaction while deflecting attention away from physicality.
But then again, to be judged as more pious and holy than my veil-less counterparts is equally disconcerting. I wish we could just learn the simple lesson that human beings are more than the sum of all the clothes they wear.