The death of a leader and notes on a career
Syed Badrul Ahsan reads a couple of books, with interest
The murder of Ahsanullah Master in May 2004 followed a pattern that had been set in the mid 1970s. It was the continuation of a trend through which popular, nationalist politicians were systematically done away with, with the result that Bangladesh was left serially deprived of the men and women who could have done it much good in terms of providing purposeful political leadership. And where the matter was specifically one of Ahsanullah Master, the man was a dedicated soul, with honesty being a hallmark of his entire political career. You only have to go through an enumeration of his career. He was a teacher, a labour leader, a man inclined to increased devolution of power to local government and a successful parliamentarian. From such a perspective, Master was an individual in whom throbbed promise of the future. He was only fifty four when he was gunned down, an age in which other promising figures of independent Bangladesh were violently removed from the scene as well. And so there he shared a trait with Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, who was a vigorous fifty five when he was assassinated, and with Tajuddin Ahmed and Syed Nazrul Islam, both in their early fifties when they were killed in prison. And with Ahsanullah Master's death, it was this pattern of the end of life that became rather discernible to the country. By far some of the biggest ramifications of Master's murder came in the knowledge that it was a man of political accomplishment who had been done in. As this compilation of commemorative essays on his life and career demonstrate all too well, he was an individual for whom political correctness mattered little, or not at all. He belonged to the old school of politicians for whom straight talk and a deep sense of commitment were the foundations of political behaviour. This quality in him was conspicuously upheld when, at a time when his own party the Awami League held political power, he argued in defence of workers' rights to collective leadership of some jute mills. And he ended up winning the argument. It was a quality of leadership that Shah AMS Kibria admired in Ahsanullah Master. Ironically and yet in line with the tradition of Bengali political assassination, Kibria would himself be dead within months from a grenade attack. This collection is a deserving tribute to a man who mattered and who could yet have done more to transform Bangladesh's politics had he been allowed to live. In death, he was mourned nationwide, which was testimony to the all-encompassing appeal he had to the country. But did that matter? The government of the day --- and it was the BNP-Jamaat coalition --- and especially those who manned the home ministry made a farce of the intended investigation of the murder. On the one hand, the minister of state for home (and he is these days in jail himself) went around dishing out the astounding discovery of some Awami Leaguers themselves having been involved in the killing! The intention was clear, as ABM Musa, KG Mustafa and others point out here. The assassination was to be passed off as an instance of internecine warfare in the Awami League. And on the other hand, the prime minister (and that was Khaleda Zia) was busy telling the country and the outside world that a full and proper investigation would be carried out into the murder. It was not merely a government speaking in discordant voices. It was a sign that the government was already on its way toward diverting the course of the inquiry. The blasts of 21 August were to prove the point. In a deeply saddening way, the work is a telling commentary on the nature of politics in the country. Nearly every write-up in the compilation is a lament on the absence of justice in a land made mute by growing insensitivities to collective national pain. Ahsanullah Master's assassination remains a gnawing pain because his was an effectual voice in the struggle for democratic rights. He did not mince words; he abjured linguistic nuances. He brought into his discourse with ordinary citizens a flair that matched their expectations of politicians. At a time (and this was in the early 1990s) when thoughts of the upazila system were anathema, because Hussein Muhammad Ershad had initiated the scheme, Master realised the potential in it. Politics for him was what it was always meant to be, a vehicle for change. And he was willing to go to court to keep the banner flying. Pothikrit is a requiem. It is also proof of all the good that has been and may not be again. It is never tedious reading the memoirs of one who was once in public life. From that perspective, Justice ATM Masud's ought to make interesting reading. But as you prepare to plunge into the work, you stumble over the title of the book. 'Reminiscence of Few Decades . . .' should have been 'Reminiscences of A Few Decades' in order for the work to keep pace with the English language. A bit disappointing, that. But move on. Masud's work should be considered a good compendium of events as he has observed them shaping up in the course of his life. In a country where memoirs are absent or simply not written, the former judge has done a good job of having kept a record of his life. The Khilafat Movement, his life as a student in Calcutta, the movement against the Holwell Monument, et al, find a place here along with later events that were to take the writer to more elevated positions in life. He makes note of all the significant events that have since the 1940s shaped history in the subcontinent and specifically in Bangladesh. One would have expected him to reflect on the circumstances he cites in the work. He does not, which is quite a pity. The obvious is what Masud states in his memoirs. These are all facts of history, but few are the instances where he offers his own assessment of them. He does, though, linger a bit on the circumstances in which he accepted General Ershad's offer to be chief election commissioner in 1985. There are too quite a few appreciative passages on some legal luminaries, notably Justice Abu Sadat Mohammad Sayem, he has had opportunity to work with. On a pretty personal note, ATM Masud speaks of his younger brother Mahbub Chowdhury, who was taken into custody by the occupation Pakistan army and never returned home. The sense of grief is palpable.
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