The atonement still goes on Bangabandhu with parents

When Bangabandhu was gunned down in the early hours on 15 August 1975, the Bengali nation to which he gave independence began a process of atonement for having committed patricide that continues even now. What can be crueler than killing the nation’s father that gave identity to a people who remained colonized for twenty-five years after the British had pulled out of the subcontinent in 1947?

Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman was a rare personality who is not born in every generation. It was because of his uncompromising and visionary political struggle for which Bengalis gained a homeland of their own, and it was also because of his unflinching courage to boldly face the persecution of the Pakistani leadership, Bengalis are today getting opportunities in all fronts to prosper and flourish. Why then was he so brutally killed, with all members of his family, only a few years after independence?

The assassination of Bangabandhu is similar to the fall of a tragic hero. Indeed he was a protagonist in the political stage of the subcontinent unparallel to any other politicians of his own and the previous generation. Tragic heroes cannot be ordinary men, they have to be Kings or Princes, and therefore no tragedy has been written after the 16th Century. This genre of literature flourished only during the 5th century BC in ancient Greece and the 16th Century AD in England and France. With the advent of democracy, tragedy retreated to the background because ordinary men could not be endowed with the unqualified greatness of tragic heroes.

Bangabandhu’s life is characterized by many of the traits of a tragic hero: his extraordinary personality, his greatness of heart and his awesome popularity were all like the strengths of a tragic hero. But did Bangabandhu have a tragic flaw that like Hamlet or King Lear ultimately transformed him to the victim of his own mistake? Banganbandhu is not a character of a Shakespearean play; he was a rare human being, a politician with an extraordinary caliber. However like Prince Hamlet, procrastination partly led him to his tragic fall. Yes, he delayed like the prince of Denmark; his first reluctance was to form a government of national unity immediately after his release from Pakistani prison. Later when he declared the establishment of the Bangladesh Krishak Sramik Awami League (BAKSAL), it was much too late, for the conspirators already had enough time to regroup and strike at an opportune moment to eliminate the towering man who had always outmaneuvered them in the past.

Bangabandhuhu’s second delay was his inability to summarily try and punish those who had killed, raped, burnt and looted in the soil of Bengal alongside the blood-drinking Pakistani military. Like King Lear, he did not realize that evil men could never change; those without compassion could never love humanity. The magnanimous Bangabandhu allowed the killers too much time to reorganize and strike back at him. Like Shakespeare’s King Lear, Bangabandhu also hurried. Lear the old King hastily banished and disinherited Cordelia his daughter who loved him the most. Bangabandhu in all his glory, only in his early 50s, decided to prematurely visit Pakistan at the behest of some Arab leaders. His sudden decision to attend the Organization of Islamic Conference (OIC) meeting in Lahore gave the conspirators a renewed opportunity of plotting to kill a man who had to be earlier spared because of international pressure. The crafty Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto had managed to secure the release of the 195 listed war criminals of the Pakistani military as an outcome of the Shimla agreement signed by Pakistan and India in 1973. Why then was the hurry and the necessity of returning to a country whose military, fully supported by Zulfiqar Bhutto, wanted the entire territory of Bangladesh to be smeared in blood only a couple of years ago in 1971? What could have Bangabandhu asked from Pakistan? His trip to the humbled Pakistan of 1971 can at best be described as the journey of a proud victor to the land of the vanquished. Little did he realize that behind the glitter and the razzmatazz surrounding his arrival at the Lahore airport, and his participation in the OIC meeting, a plot was underway to avenge the defeat in the hands of the Bengalis in 1971.

Lawrence Lifschultz, one of the most dispassionate chroniclers of the history of our glorious war of liberation, mentions in his book Bangladesh: the Unfinished Revolution the link of the infamous Inter Services Intelligence (ISI) of Pakistan in the murder of Bangabandhu. The ISI mustered support of a few disgruntled soldiers of the Bangladesh Army and successfully carried out its sinister mission on that fateful morning of 15 August 1971. When Bangabandhu’s body, riddled with bullets, lay lifeless at his home in Dhanmandi abettors to the conspiracy in the Pakistani army Headquarters, as Lifschultz states, were among the first to rejoice the news of this macabre happening.

The tragedy had turned full circle with the elimination of Bangabandhu, but the Bengali nation continues to atone for its collective guilt of giving birth to those who like cunning wolves stealthily moved from behind and felled a titan.

Author : Golam Sarwar Chowdghury is Professor of English at university of Liberal Arts Bangladesh (ULAB).

Bangabandhu Exclusive Video Footage

Bangabandhu15082012Bangabandhu Exclusive Video Footage Collected from the Different Media Sources like Youtube, vimeo, banglatube, i-bangla, and other similar sources and individuals. All the credit goes to the related bodies and those who uploaded the medias for other to explore. Share & ENJOY………..








Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib speaks on March 7 of 1971

Historic 7th March and Parents of our Nation

Historic 7th March and Parents of our Nation

Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib speaks on March 7 of 1971, declaring the independence of Bangladesh.

Uploaded on Dec 20, 2009






Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman’s speech to the 1st batch of Bangladesh Military Academy

20110814-bb-460Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman’s speech to the 1st batch of Bangladesh Military Academy (BMA). Proudly brought to you by bdmilitary.com / Uploaded on Apr 25, 2010





Remembering August 15, 1975

image_87_17014Darkness settled in seemingly with a promise to facilitate a peaceful slumber for the city dwellers after a hot day’s tiring work. There was nothing uncanny in the bearing of the night, except that it was completely oblivious of what Cassius and a few villains were conspiring to execute under cover of the night’s darkness. These villains committed the gravest ever crime that people will always remember with hatred and acute ache in their hearts. An indelible smear desecrated the otherwise laudable history of Bangladesh.

The serenity of the night was shattered by the boot-steps of the shadows of uniformed personnel, climbing up the stairs in our building in Sukrabad, just a few minutes’ walk from Sheikh Mujib’s residence, across Mirpur Road. I gathered the courage to crane my neck through one of the open windows, only to be rebuffed by a soldier, growling at me, to be quiet and to get back to sleep. Tension bristled across the room, and anxiety paled the faces of other members of my family. Muffled whispers ensued, and in spite of me being extremely worried, I had to pacify others inside the room, by saying that it was nothing important. I advised them to retire to their respective beds, but kept my ears alert for sensing any untoward noise. Before long, war noises started to pound our hearts, which drove me to the end of my wits. It took a few moments before I could regain my composure. Immediately everyone in the house was asked to prostrate on the floor to avoid any bullet hitting us.

Sporadic reports of the guns and tanks kept the anxiety mounting in every mind, and a refreshing sleep was denied. We were still in the dark about what was happening in Sheikh Mujib’s residence, on the other side of the road. People in the houses around were all awake but none dared to go out to find out what was happening. The tiring, sleepless night was finally over and the remorseful morning dawned to expose the unthinkable crime that had been committed in the sanctified land of Bangladesh. As the armed shadows, guarding on the rooftop, vanished into nothing, curiosity overtook me. I just cantered along the alley to reach an under-construction building. Reaching the top floor offered me an uninterrupted view along Mirpur Road from beyond Kalabagan to Asadgate. Completely deserted, the road was burning in the scorching heat of the sun. A car was left abandoned near Sobhanbag mosque, with four of its doors flung open and two human hands drooping on one side of the car, which gave me to understand that a dead body was lying inside. The tanks and artillery were placed somewhere on Manik Mia Avenue. Every few minutes an army jeep chased shadows along the road to apprehend the fugitive who, they might have thought, could appear from nowhere to resist their crime.

As I gathered later, guns and tanks were stationed in some strategic places to deter people from coming together to protest the dubious activities of the uniformed people. The streets remained deserted and Dhaka University, which was waiting to welcome the undisputed leader of Bangladesh to its convocation, was made off limits for the public by the heavy armed vehicles of the defense forces. People remained indoors, extremely anxious to hear what had happened in the darkness of the night. Speculations and rumours were a murderous presence in every nook and cranny. Nothing was authentic, and an unbearable uncertainly pervaded every mind.

It was close to nine in the morning when the perpetrators made their sinister act known to the public through a radio announcement, sending thousands across the country into shedding tears hysterically. The heartbreaking news was initially rejected by many as a kind of concoction of some ill-motivated uniformed personnel, but soon the truth dawned on all that the great leader was no longer alive. My old mother wept profusely. I tried to console her, but between sobs she uttered, “Why do they have to kill him?” This incident occurred at a time when I was a first year student of Dhaka University. It affected me so much that the hatred that gathered in my mind has never ceased to curse the killers. The solemn prayer of my mother for the salvation of the great leader’s soul still rings in my ears. My mother, although she did not understand much of politics, had a tremendous affection for Sheikh Mujib. Her prayers for the fallen hero will never go unrewarded. August 15, 1975 has taken our leader to his peaceful abode in heaven, it has also inscribed his name in letters of gold in millions of hearts which will never be erased.

Now that this day of mourning has once more traversed its annual course, people need to be united to subdue the evil forces of darkness that caused this bloodbath. Those who are responsible for the crime and those who are the beneficiaries are to be brought to book. Our posterity needs to learn the truth about the killings. We must also tell our children how the anti-liberation forces, under the cover of religion, have been distorting the facts about our great leader, and poisoning their innocent minds with fabricated stories about him. It is for the sake of truth that Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman’s unselfish devotion to the people and the country should be projected, with all honesty and sincerity. It is for the betterment of the nation that all perpetrators of the crime of his assassination be brought to face justice. Only then can we expect to develop a prosperous Bangladesh, free from all sorts of injustice.

Author : – Muhammad Abdul Hai