The Outside Story

When Terror Strikes, What is the Government's Worth?

Sabir Mustafa
SHAMSUR Rahman has put his escape from the jaws of death on Jan 18 last down as a "miracle". And well he might. This was an atrocity waiting to happen, and it was a matter of miracle indeed that the intended target escaped unhurt. The crude attack on Rahman at his family residence has certainly shocked the saner segment of the population. But it would be a fallacy to suggest that many were surprised. The danger signals have been there for all to observe for a long time; threats, some thinly veiled, others pretty brazen, have been made against intellectuals of secular disposition in public for years. Such threats had become shriller and more blatant in recent years. But the response of the State, which carries the sole responsibility to protect the lives and freedoms of citizens, has been characterised by complacency verging on abettment. At the same time, the lack of surprise has been accompanied by total incredulity over the inept performance of the various security-related intelligence agencies. Bangladesh may not be much of a player in the regional or global strategic game, but Dhaka does boast an array of such agencies. The police has the Special Branch, the defence establishment has the Directorate General-Forces Intelligence (DGFI) in addition to the Military Intelligence (MI). The home ministry also has the National Security Intelligence (NSI). With all such intelligence agencies deployed in various roles, it is rather surprising that none of these managed to get a tip on the plans to assassinate Shamsur Rahman. The assassins did not come from another planet, nor did they carry out their activities in total secrecy. Fundamentalist groups such as the so-called Harkatul Jihad lay out their stores in public, propagate their politics of hate through journals published from offices with signboards. They even boast of their connections with militant groups in Afghanistan or Kashmir. One would certainly have expected intelligence services such as the SB, NSI and DGFI to keep a close watch on them, particularly since they may have links with foreign terrorist groups. Unfortunately, the attempt on Rahman demonstrated that the security services were not carrying out any such surveillance on these fanatic groups, nor were they subjected to any of the mundane tactics used by intelligence agencies such as infiltration to gather information. Had that been done, the murder ring would have been broken before Rahman's life was put in danger.   In fact, the failure of the intelligence services to gather information on the fanatic groups' para-military training, arms procurement and planning for assassinations, probably had more to do with political dishonesty and opportunism of governments, past and present. This has not only allowed parties on the fundamentalist fringe to gain political legitimacy and moral strength, it has also left intellectuals to without real protection. Intellectuals are no strangers to death in Bangladesh. The liberal, secular ideology Bengalee intellectuals have traditionally propounded has ensured that they remain prime targets of religious fanatics and neo-fascist political elements. The murder of the intellectuals by the Pakistan army and their Al-Badr death squads in December 1971, is merely the most dramatic expression of the intolerance and hate that the fanatics propagate in order to stifle freedoms of expression and thought. Over the past two decades and more, the forces behind the attempt to murder Rahman have been allowed to grow both in strength and audacity right before the very eyes of the State and society. Apologists of the State would say that the growth of religious fanaticism has been "tolerated", on the grounds of freedom of expression and thought. However, there is a gulf of difference between promotion of a political ideology based on religious teachings, and propagation of an ideology that uses religion to incite hate and intolerance, and tries to stifle intellectual freedom through threats of violence or actual violence. Those who have been at the helm of the State's affairs since secularism was deleted from the Constitution in 1977, unfortunately, have not acknowledged this difference. Since 1979, both the Islamic Revolution in Iran and the civil war in Afghanistan have inspired the growth of religious fanaticism in Bangladesh. Such groups are on the fringe of the political spectrum, as they have never been able to generate support among the general masses. But they have been able to recruit a fairly large number of fanatics, mostly from the madrasas who apparently have no stake in the functioning of a democratic State, and even less in the liberal, enlightened tradition of Bangladesh. The politics they pursue is a new brand of fascism, which uses religion as the motivating element, rather than nationalism. The danger that fanatical groups pose to the lives and freedoms of liberal and secular intellectuals has been known for decades. The true character of these fanatics became visible they launched a street campaign against the writer Taslima Nasreen in 1994 and targeted the daily Janakantha newspaper. The extraordinary degree of intolerance became apparent when they attempted to whip up a hate psychosis directed against the tiny Ahmadiya community numbering around 100,000 in Bangladesh. During all these, the State acted as a by-stander, watching passively as small fanatic groups publicly threatened the lives and freedoms of other individuals and communities. The signal sent by this passive non-reaction of the State in the mid-90s was a dangerous one. It meant that fascistic politics of hate, even incitement to murder, would be tolerated. The idea was to create a cowed environment in which intellectuals would be terrorised into silence. The State virtually abdicated its responsibility to protect citizens' fundamental rights enshrined in the Constitution. Since 1996, however, there has been a marked decline in the overt activities of these fundamentalist groups. The rout of the Jamaat-i-Islami in the June elections that year had clearly demonstrated that the people of Bangladesh had little time for fanaticism. The non-Jamaat camp of the religious Right, which contains a number of tiny Taliban look-alike groups, has never been in the electoral game. Their strength is based on their hold on the madrasas which provide fertile ground for breeding fanatics. But their biggest strength has been the government's unwillingness to tackle them head-on. In recent years, the audacity displayed by these groups has naturally reminded people of the days of 1971, when blood-curdling warnings against intellectuals by Jamaat leaders, through speeches to the faithful and articles in their mouthpiece daily Sangram, had preceded the December massacre. Such threats are heard at public meetings quite regularly these days, but without provoking the slightest bit of preventive action from the government. It is clear that these so-called Taliban groups are basically terror-oriented with an intent to murder. Therefore, there is no reason to treat them as "political" elements, and every reason to tackle them as a law and order issue under the country's criminal code. The attempt on Rahman's life has demonstrated that there is no scope to play the opportunist political game that has been played over the past two decades and more. Such opportunism has nurtured the Frankenstein that is now threatening to compromise the most fundamental element of a civilised, democratic society: freedom of thought and expression. The Jan 18 incident has the potential to blow the lid on a number of issues. First is the question of whether "political" parties which incite hate should be allowed to function. Second is whether madrasas should be brought under the direct supervision of the education boards, or whether madrasas should be kept at all. Third is whether the time has come for Bangladesh to seriously scrutinise the role of some foreign diplomatic missions and NGOs and their links to fundamentalist groups. But the question that requires immediate answer relates to the role of the government itself. It is not a matter of putting police guards at the doors of selected individuals. Such "protection" is illusory, because it does not address the core issues at stake. Unless fanatical groups are uprooted, the threat to the lives of the likes of Shamsur Rahman will remain real.   If the government wishes to protect freedoms of expression and thought, then it has little choice but to act against fundamentalist groups known to propagate ideologies of violence and intolerance. If it does not, then the words of a highly respected intellectual, spoken more in frustration than anger, would look prophetic. "This government is worthless", he had said. Perhaps Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina would like to demonstrate to the public the worth of her government.