What has this country become seven months after mass uprising!

In March 2025, the country is still grappling with the abuse of women and children. The newspapers continue to print harrowing accounts of these atrocities. Ah, what has become of the country just seven months after the student-public uprising of July-August, with the dream of building a new Bangladesh? Where is the government? Where is the rule of law?

Our society does have a cultural practice—music, art, literature, and drama are present to some extent—but the elevation of cultural standards has been minimal. There is no noticeable expression of any profound thought through the arts. The depth and breadth of intellectual thought have not expanded as they should. Even scientists have been engulfed by unscientific notions. In this regard, the responsibility primarily lies with the left-wing groups. The right-wing, on the other hand, continues its work as expected, as the entire governance system is on their side, providing them with immediate rewards, promises, and recognition, all of which fuel their motivation. Moreover, the ruling establishment itself, with its media outlets, bureaucrats, foreign supporters, and domestic cronies, constantly propagates the reactionary agenda.

Standing against this is increasingly seen as more risky than profitable. In our environment, progressiveness is unnatural; reactionism is the norm. Progressiveness requires standing against the tide, which demands mental independence, strength, and courage. Accumulating such power and courage through individual efforts is already difficult, and sustaining it becomes nearly impossible. Therefore, collective and organized efforts are required.

Despite all this, I remain hopeful. Why? Because hope lies in the fact that humans dream. Without dreams, humans would cease to be human. I published a book a year or two ago, titled "Dreams Were, Will Be." It is because of dreams that we are still here. Dreams will last forever, and it is through these dreams that human dignity becomes invincible.

There is no denying that there is deep despair in the country today. The root cause of this despair is that it is evident the country is not moving in the right direction. While we may be walking the capitalist path, it has become clear that the general population will not see any improvement on this path. The country was liberated to free people, not to drown them with their hands and feet bound.

People are naturally nostalgic. As March arrives, I too become nostalgic. I recall the turbulent days of March 1971 and the subsequent nine months. We all know how horrific and brutal the genocide was in 1971. There was a poet named Meherunnesa. No one remembers her now. She became a martyr at the age of just 25 during the genocide. To me, the history of Meherunnesa represents the history of Pakistan itself; she is a symbol of its suffering.

Meherunnesa's father lived in Khidirpur, a Muslim-majority area in Kolkata. Our house was nearby. Meherunnesa's father had two shops in Bhawanipur. During the riots, both shops were looted. Meherunnesa's father then started a coal business. Meherunnesa could no longer continue her studies. Young Meherunnesa sat in her father's shop and helped him.

In 1950, a terrible riot took place on both sides of the border. As a result of this riot, Meherunnesa's family could no longer stay in Kolkata. They sold their meager property and moved to Dhaka. They had no place to live in Dhaka. Her father started a business in the small area near Dholaikhali, but they had no capital to do business. In the midst of this, Meherunnesa's father succumbed to cancer.

At that time, Meherunnesa became the sole breadwinner of the family. She worked as a copyist at the Bangla Academy, and she also got a job at the Philips company. But she continued writing poetry.

Meherunnesas lived in a Bihari-majority area in Mirpur. She was a very determined girl. She used to chant "Joy Bangla" and participate in rallies. The Biharis were well aware of her activism. On March 23, 1971, there was an event for revolutionary poets at the Bangla Academy field. Meherunnesa read her poetry there. I have heard that her poem was published in the Begum newspaper on March 25.

On that same March 25, the Biharis attacked Meherunnesa's home. Meherunnesa, her mother, and her brother were present in the house. Her mother stood holding the Quran and said to the attackers, "We are Muslims." The Biharis, driven by Pakistani nationalism, killed all three of them. They decapitated her brother and left with his head. What they did to Meherunnesa was even more horrifying. They not only killed her but hung her by a fan, letting her body spin. To me, this represents the symbol of Pakistan.

Now, who will we speak of as a symbol of Bangladesh? There are many events. Which one should we pick? When Bangladesh became independent, we still had to search for ration cards for oil and clothes. Meanwhile, Pakistan had also been suffering from famine even after its independence. On December 16, our country gained independence, but on December 17, my relative and I went out and saw widespread looting, as if it were a festival.

A young freedom fighter from Bikrampur once shared two of his experiences with me. On December 17, his commander ordered him to go to Dhaka. He and his team went to Dhaka but did not understand why they were being sent. Later, he realized that the commander went to Islampur in Dhaka and looted shops selling gold, clothes, and watches.

Another experience of this young freedom fighter was that one day while walking along the road, he saw a man carrying earth in a basket. He looked closely and recognized the man. The man had once been part of their band. The young freedom fighter got out of the car and asked, "Uncle, what are you doing?"

The uncle replied, "Did you not say we would be free? Here is the freedom. Now I am digging the earth."

Let me now talk about a freedom fighter. We could also consider him a symbol. There is an account in Siddique Salik's 'Witness to Surrender' about a young freedom fighter who was captured by the Pakistanis. He was holding a weapon, and when the Pakistanis captured him, they asked, "Who else was with you? Give their names." The young freedom fighter refused to reveal any names. The Pakistanis pressed a gun to his chest and said, "If you don't give the names, we will shoot you." Yet, he refused to speak. Then he shouted, "Joy Bangla," and touched the ground before standing up. The Pakistanis shot him. This young freedom fighter could also be seen as a symbol of Bangladesh.

Similarly, we could consider those who gave their lives during the anti-Ershad movement, such as Noor Hossain, or Dr. Milon.

However, one symbol, in particular, comes to my mind— a girl from our village. In our village, there was no school for girls in the past. It was only in the generation of our mothers, whose fathers worked in government jobs, that some girls were given the opportunity for education. The girls in the village had no such opportunity. When a school was built for girls in the village, progress was made. There was a photograph of a rally from the girls' school published in the newspapers, with the slogan "We must stop the hooligans."

The girls in the village were frequently harassed by rowdy boys. They were resisting it. The girl leading the protest was in class ten, and she was the most vocal and the best student in the school. She had protested against the harassment. But one day, a familiar young man said something so obscene to her that she hanged herself from a tree at home. This girl is also a symbol. She did not commit suicide for her own reasons but as a final protest against the system that harassed her. She had protested before, and her final protest came in the form of sacrificing her life.

Serajul Islam Choudhury: Public Intellectual and Emeritus Professor, University of Dhaka.