The lonely Helmsman of ‘71

It was around 11 p.m. Tajuddin Ahmad was restlessly pacing the lawn of his house on Sat Masjid Road in Dhanmondi. His face reflected deep anguish, inner conflict, and a storm of thoughts. Pakistani forces were advancing toward key targets in Dhaka. The entire city lay shrouded in a haunting silence. The nation stood at a perilous crossroads—there was no turning back.

After learning that Yahya Khan had left Dhaka, Tajuddin had rushed to Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman’s residence at 32 Dhanmondi that night. He had wanted to leave the house together with Bangabandhu and hoped he would go into hiding to lead the liberation movement. But when Mujib declined, Tajuddin insisted he at least record a declaration on a tape recorder. That too failed. Crestfallen and frustrated, Tajuddin returned home, his heart heavy with disappointment.

There are differing opinions and debates as to why Sheikh Mujib neither went into hiding nor authorized any declaration through Tajuddin. However, it must be remembered that Sheikh Mujib was a statesman of parliamentary politics through and through—not a revolutionary or a guerrilla. If he had gone underground, there was a real risk the liberation movement would be branded as a separatist rebellion. His decision at that critical moment must have had its own logic. Conversely, Tajuddin’s expectation for a firm directive or declaration likely stemmed from equally compelling reasoning.

Meanwhile, at zero hour, Pakistani forces unleashed a monstrous attack across Dhaka—targeting Rajarbagh Police Lines, Dhaka University, New Market, and the EPR headquarters simultaneously. The city turned into a hellscape of machine gun fire, mortar shells, tracer bullets, and the bloodcurdling screams of the wounded and dying.

In the face of such barbarity, Tajuddin cast aside his heartbreak and hesitation. He decided to leave home. With him was Awami League leader Barrister Amir-ul-Islam. Most of the city’s streetlights were already off. In that horrifying night, they took refuge at the Lalmatia home of a trusted engineer named Gafur Sahib. When the curfew lifted, on March 27, they began their journey toward the border—assuming false identities: Tajuddin became "Muhammad Ali" and Amir-ul-Islam, "Rahmat Ali."

After a harrowing journey, they reached the border town of Jhivannagar in Kushtia on the afternoon of March 30, where they met Golok Majumdar, IG of India’s Border Security Force. From there, they traveled to Kolkata with Majumdar and then flew to Delhi aboard a Russian AN-12 aircraft—with one goal in mind: to meet Indian Prime Minister Indira Gandhi.

That meeting took place on the night of April 3. Tajuddin presented the case for Bangladesh’s liberation and discussed ways India could assist. During the meeting, Indira Gandhi asked whether a government had been formed to conduct the war. Tajuddin replied that a government had been constituted, composed of the top elected Awami League leaders now dispersed across the borders, soon to regroup and organize. In reality, no government had yet been formed.

Details of that crucial meeting are chronicled in Moeedul Hasan’s book Muldhara ‘71. He writes:

> “...At the start of the meeting, Tajuddin informed Indira Gandhi that with the onset of Pakistani attacks on March 25–26, Bangladesh had declared independence and formed a government, with Sheikh Mujibur Rahman as president and all senior participants of the Mujib-Yahya negotiations as cabinet members... This timely assertion by Tajuddin injected tremendous momentum into the independence movement. However, it also inevitably triggered internal power struggles within the Awami League, tensions that affected the liberation war effort and had lasting political consequences even after independence.” (Page 12)

After two rounds of talks with Indira Gandhi, Tajuddin recorded a radio speech in Delhi. It was broadcast on April 10 from an unknown jungle location. Many inside Bangladesh heard it via All India Radio. In the speech, Tajuddin referred to himself as the Prime Minister of Bangladesh. For a nation gripped by fear and genocide, his voice sparked a faint but vital hope.

Another key meeting followed on April 8 in Kolkata, at a residence on Rajendra Road in Bhawanipur. There, Tajuddin briefed senior and youth leaders of the Awami League about his discussions with Indira Gandhi. He informed them of his stance on declaring independence and forming a government. Yet, this failed to pacify everyone—especially the youth leaders, who challenged his self-declared prime ministership. Fazlul Huq Moni even sent a letter from 42 Awami League and youth leaders to Delhi demanding Tajuddin stop making public statements.

Despite these tensions, Tajuddin pressed on. Boarding a small Dakota aircraft, he began searching for senior Awami League leaders in border regions. Before long, he found Syed Nazrul Islam and Abdul Mannan. He briefed Syed Nazrul about the urgency of forming a government. Syed Nazrul agreed and instructed the necessary steps to be taken.

Then came April 17, 1971.
An orchard in Baidyanathtala, Meherpur, was chosen as the site for the swearing-in of the government-in-exile. The location was kept secret for security reasons. Early that morning, Amir-ul-Islam left the Kolkata Press Club with local and foreign journalists toward the mango grove. Preparations for the ceremony were complete. Symbolically, just as Bengal lost its independence in a mango grove in Palashi in 1757, it now rose again from another mango grove in Baidyanathtala. There was a mix of anticipation and anxiety. The absence of youth leaders from the ceremony cast a shadow of discord and division. Fazlul Huq Moni and his followers had openly opposed Tajuddin.

Nonetheless, the ceremony commenced with the hoisting of a hastily stitched green flag. Syed Nazrul Islam took oath as acting President, Tajuddin Ahmad as Prime Minister, A.H.M. Qamaruzzaman as Minister for Home, Relief and Rehabilitation, Khandakar Mushtaq Ahmad as Foreign and Law Minister, and Colonel M.A.G. Osmani was declared Commander-in-Chief of the Liberation Forces.

In a press statement, Prime Minister Tajuddin declared:
> “...Pakistan is dead, buried beneath the corpses of countless innocents. The bloodshed in Bangladesh has erected an unscalable wall between East and West Pakistan. Before plunging into this premeditated genocide, Yahya should have realized he was digging Pakistan’s grave... In this existential struggle, we seek friendship from every nation, big or small... We appeal to the world for recognition and both moral and material support.” (Tajuddin Ahmad, Neta o Pita, p. 412–413)

From there began a long and difficult journey. The formation of the Mujib Bahini outside government oversight, the arrogance and freelancing of youth leaders, conspiracies by the right-wing under Khandakar Mushtaq, and the persistent demands of the left—all challenged Tajuddin’s leadership. He also had to manage disagreements over freedom fighter recruitment, strategic decisions, and friction with Indian forces. Added to that was the disappointment over delays in expected Indian aid and recognition. But Tajuddin handled all of it with extraordinary wisdom and perseverance.

He chose to lead a simple life at 8 Theatre Road (now Shakespeare Sarani) in Kolkata, the headquarters of the Mujibnagar government. Though his family was in Kolkata, he refused to live with them. His reason: “How can I live in comfort while our boys are starving and dying at the front?” Many others did not make the same sacrifice.

As the months progressed, Pakistan became increasingly cornered. By October and November, the war had reached a decisive stage. Trained guerrillas were conducting successful operations inside Bangladesh. Internationally, Indira Gandhi was rallying support across Europe and America. Strategic coordination with Indian forces brought momentum to the battlefield.

Finally, on December 3, Pakistan attacked India—signaling its own doom. Tajuddin and others knew this was the endgame. On December 6, India officially recognized Bangladesh. A joint command was formed. Independence now was only a matter of time.

But the journey to that moment came at great cost. Tajuddin not only toiled endlessly but underwent the harshest tests of patriotism. He had to make countless critical decisions—any of which, if misjudged, could have doomed the entire war effort. Yet, this modest, media-shy man had long prepared for such a role. His wisdom and foresight were almost prophetic. Throughout his life, he dreamt of an independent Bangladesh. He was a master strategist with profound knowledge of revolutionary struggle.

It was Tajuddin who once bested a delegation from Zulfikar Ali Bhutto in a debate over the Six-Point Movement. After the exchange, Bhutto reportedly said, “Sheikh has a worthy lieutenant, I see.”

It was this lieutenant who ultimately captained the war that birthed a nation.

Tragically, the general he fought for—Sheikh Mujibur Rahman—never once asked him how the war had been conducted. Tajuddin waited. But the distance only grew. Eventually, the nation’s founding father was brutally assassinated. Soon after, conspirators killed his faithful lieutenant. And so ended a vital chapter in Bangladesh’s history.

The country entered a dark, regressive, self-destructive era.
But things didn’t have to turn out this way—
If only Mujib and Tajuddin had stood united in rebuilding the nation.
History might have taken a very different course.

Rahat Minhaj is Assistant Professor, Department of Mass Communication and Journalism, Jagannath University, Dhaka