Lest we forget

As the anniversary of the fall of Dhaka approaches, I find myself becoming emotional again. It’s the same every year: an overwhelming sense of loss and bewilderment mixed with anger that the tragedy which befell us on December 16, 1971, has been pushed into the periphery of the nation’s collective memory.

At times, I become so overwhelmed by my own feelings that tears come to my eyes. The mistakes, the injustices, the terrible suffering, and the barbaric treatment, both of a people and an ideal. The very foundation of Pakistan was shaken violently in that bitter winter of 1971.

It is perhaps strange that I should feel so strongly about an event, or rather chain of events, which took place a few years before I was even born. I also admit to having no direct familial, ethnic, or any other connection to the land that was once known as East Pakistan.

I cannot remember the exact moment when it first struck me, the fact that Bangladesh was once a part of Pakistan. But I do remember that India was the consummate villain; Indian influence created rebellion in the eastern wing and Indian military intervention caused it to finally break away. At least that’s what the history textbooks in school told us.

Then there came a time when a couple of us were no longer willing to toe the party line. A rare heated discussion ensued during a Pakistan Studies class when, drawing on what had been heard at home or in a discussion on television, we insisted that the Pakistan Army and West Pakistani politicians were to blame for the debacle. The teacher was mildly interested; everyone else in the classroom carried on with their doodling and daydreaming.

It took a history course at a university in a far away country for me to pick up Brigadier Siddiq Salik’s 1978 book Witness to Surrender (Urdu version: Mainey Dhaka Doobtay Dekha), which is based on his recollections of the events leading up to the war of 1971 and the consequent loss of the eastern wing.

Posted in Dhaka as the army’s public relations officer at the time, Salik has recounted the particularly poignant moment in March 1971 when a despondent-looking Lt. Gen. Shahibzada Yaqub Khan, the commander of the Eastern Command, exited the room after failing to convince GHQ to desist from using force to quell the unrest. Resting his hand on Salik’s shoulder, Yaqub Khan quoted this verse by Daagh Dehlavi, an outstanding Urdu poet who was also the step-grandson of the last Mughal emperor Bahadur Shah Zafar: