Erasing the Memory, the Nation’s Father: The
Assault on Liberation War of Bangladesh
Abstract:
This study critically
investigates the deliberate erasure of national memory through the political
and symbolic assault on the legacy of Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman—widely
regarded as the Father of the Nation in Bangladesh. Framed within the broader
dynamics of authoritarianism, historical revisionism, and identity politics,
the research explores how successive regimes—especially military and
authoritarian governments following the 1975 coup—systematically marginalized,
distorted, or erased Bangabandhu’s role in the country's founding narrative.
This erasure took multiple forms, including the suppression of his image in
state media, the exclusion of his name from textbooks, the dismantling or
renaming of public monuments, and the silencing of commemorative practices.
Drawing on
archival documents, educational policy reviews, state propaganda materials, and
interviews with historians and political actors, this study reveals how
state-sponsored amnesia became a tool to forge alternative nationalist
ideologies while legitimizing autocratic rule. The paper engages with
theoretical frameworks on memory, symbolic power, and political repression to
demonstrate how erasing the “father” of the nation was not merely an act of
forgetting but a strategic move to redefine the nation's ideological
foundation. It also highlights the persistence of counter-narratives,
resistance by civil society, and the eventual partial recovery of Bangabandhu’s
legacy in the post-authoritarian era.
The research
underscores the fragility of collective memory in postcolonial societies and
calls for inclusive, pluralistic memory policies to resist authoritarian
manipulation. It contributes to interdisciplinary debates on memory politics,
historical justice, and the weaponization of forgetting.
Keywords:
Memory politics, Historical erasure, Bangladesh, Symbolic violence, National
identity, State repression, Collective memory, Transitional justice.
1. Introduction
1.1 The Power of Memory in Postcolonial
Nations
Memory is not merely a recollection of the
past—it is a socio-political act,
a lens through which nations define their present and shape their future.
Particularly in postcolonial states,
where the battle for legitimacy is ongoing, the politics of memory becomes a powerful mechanism for state-building, identity formation, and ideological reproduction. The past is
not fixed but constantly contested, as competing regimes seek to legitimize
their rule by privileging certain narratives and marginalizing others (Hobsbawm
& Ranger, 1983; Nora, 1989). In this context, historical figures such as Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, the undisputed
architect of Bangladesh’s independence, become central to the memory wars of the nation.
Bangladesh’s trajectory since its birth in
1971 illustrates how collective memory is a terrain of ideological struggle. Few
leaders in South Asian political history embody national sentiment as
profoundly as Bangabandhu Sheikh
Mujibur Rahman. His name, image, and speeches are inextricably linked
with the birth of Bangladesh,
making him both a revered symbol
and a target for erasure. Over
the decades, especially under authoritarian
and military regimes, Bangabandhu’s legacy has been subjected to
erasure, revisionism, and politicized re-contextualization. His memory, housed
in Dhanmondi 32, has been as
much a shrine of national mourning as it has been a battlefield of historical
distortion.
1.2 Memory, Nationalism, and Political
Violence
National memory is often curated through
symbolic figures who embody the state’s foundational myths. These figures are
preserved through rituals, textbooks, statues, museums, and national holidays
(Assmann, 2011; Connerton, 1989). Yet such memory is also vulnerable to
political shifts—particularly under authoritarian
regimes, where memory erasure or
manipulation becomes a tool to reconstruct political legitimacy (Olick
& Robbins, 1998). The erasure of
political memory, especially that of revolutionary leaders, is rarely
accidental. It is a strategic effort to depoliticize
national consciousness, obscure
historical injustice, and silence
dissent.
This practice is not unique to Bangladesh.
In post-Soviet Russia, Stalinist monuments were removed and later partially
reinstated under Putin’s hybrid regime (Tumarkin, 1997). In South Africa, the
legacy of Steve Biko was suppressed during apartheid and revived post-1994 as
part of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. In Sri Lanka, Tamil histories
were effaced to support Sinhala Buddhist nationalism (Spencer, 2008). These
examples show how authoritarianism
often targets symbolic figures whose memory challenges its ideological
coherence.
1.3 The Significance of Bangabandhu’s
Legacy
Sheikh Mujibur
Rahman,
popularly known as Bangabandhu (Friend of Bengal), holds a status in Bangladesh
akin to George Washington in the U.S.,
Mahatma Gandhi in India, or Nelson Mandela in South Africa. He was
the driving force behind the Six-Point
Movement (1966), the 7 March
1971 speech, and the Liberation
War of 1971. As the first Prime Minister and later President of
Bangladesh, his efforts laid the groundwork for a sovereign, secular, and inclusive republic.
However, his assassination in 1975 and the
subsequent rise of military-backed
regimes introduced a new phase in Bangladeshi political memory—one marked by repression, revisionism, and
erasure. The banning of his image, the deletion of his name from
textbooks, the prohibition of public commemorations, and the legal protection
given to his assassins (via the Indemnity
Ordinance) were calculated efforts to rewrite the foundational narrative of the country (Kamal, 2005).
These actions amounted to a symbolic ‘second
assassination’—an attempt to eliminate Bangabandhu not just physically,
but ideologically.
1.4 Dhanmondi 32: A Site of Memory and
Resistance
The house located at 32 Dhanmondi Road, where Bangabandhu
lived and was assassinated with most of his family members, has become a symbolic and emotional nucleus of
Bangladeshi memory. In the words of Nora (1989), Dhanmondi 32 is a ‘lieu de mémoire’—a site where memory
crystallizes and endures. It is not just a building of bricks, rods, and
cement, but a sacred site of sacrifice,
a space of martyrdom and mourning,
and a repository of collective grief.
Following the restoration of democracy in
the 1990s, the house was transformed into the Bangabandhu Memorial Museum, symbolizing the re-inscription of
memory into the nation’s fabric. However, even this physical site has faced
renewed threats. In 2024, an unconstitutional
regime, seeking to deconstruct the Liberation War narrative, targeted
Dhanmondi 32—cutting off utilities, dismantling its walls, and obstructing
commemorative events. These assaults on memory were not merely
administrative—they were acts of
symbolic violence intended to de-legitimize the historical authority of
Bangabandhu and his descendants.
1.5 Erasure as Authoritarian Practice
Erasure is an act of political violence.
Whether by removing names from history books, banning commemorative practices,
or physically destroying monuments, authoritarian regimes engage in epistemic warfare—the destruction of
knowledge, memory, and symbolic continuity (Mbembe, 2003; Foucault, 1977). The erasure of Bangabandhu follows this
pattern.
Between 1975 and 1996, military-backed regimes in Bangladesh
sought to impose a ‘value-neutral’
historical narrative—one that omitted the personalized, emotional, and
moral dimension of Bangabandhu’s leadership. His image was replaced by abstract nationalism, and his legacy
diluted into a generic war narrative where leadership was anonymous. This
approach conveniently allowed former collaborators
of the Pakistan regime to return to political prominence without
reckoning with historical accountability.
The 2024 interim regime revived these tactics by attacking both the material and symbolic dimensions of
Bangabandhu’s legacy. Unlike the earlier erasure, which relied on suppression,
the newer model employed surveillance,
algorithmic censorship, and media
manipulation, attempting to sanitize the digital landscape of
pro-Bangabandhu sentiment. This new erasure reflects 21st-century authoritarianism, which is no longer reliant solely
on coercion but utilizes disinformation
and digital erasure to manufacture consensus (Bradshaw & Howard,
2019).
1.6 Legacy and Memory as Political Capital
Bangabandhu’s legacy continues to hold enormous political and emotional capital
in Bangladesh. His life is invoked during elections, state functions,
educational reforms, and international diplomacy. This symbolic power makes him
a threat to unelected or anti-liberation forces, who view his legacy as a hindrance to their legitimacy.
By erasing Bangabandhu, authoritarian
actors attempt to create a historical
vacuum—a space where alternative figures, ideologies, or fabricated
narratives can gain ground. The assault on his legacy is, therefore, an assault on Bangladesh’s very foundation.
It is not merely the erasure of a man, but the unmaking of a nation’s self-understanding.
1.7 Memory Resistance and the Politics of
Mourning
The erasure of Bangabandhu has never gone
uncontested. Each wave of suppression has been met with acts of memory resistance—from underground booklets in the 1980s
to mass commemorations after 1996 and, more recently, digital memorial movements in 2024 such as #SaveDhanmondi32 and
#BangabandhuLives. These responses demonstrate that memory is resilient—even when denied state protection, it survives
in oral histories, family traditions, and emotional geographies (Assmann, 2011).
This resistance also underscores the politics of mourning. To mourn
Bangabandhu is not merely to grieve his death—it is to assert the legitimacy of the Liberation War, to affirm the moral
vision of a secular and just Bangladesh, and to reject authoritarian forgetfulness. Mourning becomes a political act, reclaiming memory
from the jaws of erasure.
1.8 Research Aim and Scope
This article investigates the systematic efforts by authoritarian regimes
to erase Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman’s legacy, focusing on four
interrelated dimensions:
1.
Material erasure:
physical attacks on memory sites (e.g., Dhanmondi 32 Museum).
2.
Discursive
erasure:
historical revisionism in textbooks and media.
3.
Symbolic erasure:
suppression of national rituals, imagery, and cultural references.
4.
Digital erasure:
censorship and algorithmic manipulation of memory online.
Through archival research, media content
analysis, and secondary scholarship, this paper explores how memory is
weaponized, erased, and reclaimed in the Bangladeshi context. It situates the
2024 assaults within a larger
historical pattern of memory suppression and authoritarian denial, while
also highlighting civic and cultural
forms of resistance.
2. Theoretical Framework: Memory,
Authoritarianism, and the Politics of Erasure
2.1 Introduction to Memory Studies and
Authoritarian Politics
In political and sociological scholarship,
memory is increasingly recognized as a contested
terrain where power is exercised, resisted, and transformed. Collective memory, far from being a
neutral or natural process, is constructed through institutions, rituals,
education systems, and symbolic structures that reflect specific ideological
interests (Halbwachs, 1992; Connerton, 1989). In postcolonial nations such as
Bangladesh, memory becomes both a vehicle
of national identity and a target
of authoritarian control, where historical figures like Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman
serve as pivotal nodes of emotional, ideological, and historical significance.
Authoritarian regimes—lacking democratic
legitimacy or historical moral capital—often seek to rewrite, manipulate, or erase foundational narratives that
challenge their authority. Memory, therefore, becomes a battleground, and erasure becomes a political strategy. This section draws upon interdisciplinary
theoretical lenses from memory studies, postcolonial theory, cultural
anthropology, and political sociology to construct a comprehensive framework
for analyzing the erasure of Bangabandhu’s legacy in Bangladesh.
2.2 Pierre Nora’s Lieux de Mémoire: The
Sacredness of Memory Sites
The concept of lieux de mémoire, or
‘sites of memory,’ introduced by French historian Pierre Nora (1989), is critical for understanding how national
memory is spatially and symbolically rooted. Nora argues that modern societies,
having lost the ‘real environments of memory’ (milieux de mémoire), have
replaced them with deliberate commemorative artifacts—museums, monuments,
holidays, and rituals—that function as memory anchors.
In the context of Bangladesh, Dhanmondi 32, the residence and
assassination site of Bangabandhu, represents such a lieu de mémoire. It
is not merely a physical structure but a symbolic node, where emotion, history, and national ideology
converge. Nora’s thesis helps explain why authoritarian regimes target such sites: erasing or attacking a lieu
de mémoire is equivalent to dismantling the emotional grammar of the nation. When, for example, the 2024
interim regime dismantled parts of the Dhanmondi 32 perimeter and disrupted
memorial events, it wasn’t simply performing administrative acts—it was violating the sanctity of collective memory.
2.3 Maurice Halbwachs and the Social
Construction of Collective Memory
The sociologist Maurice Halbwachs (1992) introduced the concept of collective memory as a social rather
than individual phenomenon. Memory, he argued, is constructed and sustained by
social groups—families, religious institutions, political movements—who selectively remember events that serve
their identity and values.
For authoritarian regimes, controlling collective memory means
controlling national identity. By distorting educational curricula,
erasing historical images, or suppressing commemorative practices, regimes
manipulate which events are remembered and which are forgotten. Halbwachs’
theory explains the structural nature
of memory control: it’s not enough to oppress the present; the past must
be rewritten to justify it.
Bangabandhu’s removal from history books,
the banning of his iconic 7 March speech, and the elevation of ‘neutral’
nationalist symbols during the military regimes of the 1980s demonstrate this
logic. The state attempted to ‘re-anchor’
collective memory to suit new ideologies—Islamist nationalism,
militarized development, and depersonalized patriotism.
2.4 Michel Foucault and the Erasure of
Knowledge (Epistemic Violence)
Authoritarian erasure is not limited to
monuments or ceremonies—it extends to epistemology
itself. Michel Foucault’s
work on power and knowledge (1977) offers critical insight into how regimes
enforce what he calls ‘epistemic
regimes’—systems that determine what counts as truth, who has the
authority to speak, and which knowledges are legitimate.
In this light, the erasure of Bangabandhu’s legacy is a form of epistemic violence.
It is a deliberate attempt to destroy historical truth and replace it with state-sanctioned
fabrications. When the Indemnity
Ordinance was passed in 1975 to protect his assassins, the state wasn’t
just obstructing justice—it was denying historical
truth. Similarly, the banning of books, censorship of documentaries, and
suppression of public mourning constitute a Foucaultdian mechanism of disciplining
the historical consciousness of citizens.
The epistemic erasure extends to digital domains in the 21st century.
The 2024 regime’s censorship of pro-Bangabandhu hashtags, deletion of digital
archives, and surveillance of online commemorations indicate a techno-authoritarian shift in
epistemic control, consistent with Foucault’s notions of bio-power and surveillance in modern
states.
2.5 Edward Said and Postcolonial
Historiography
Edward Said’s
(1994)
Culture and Imperialism provides a useful framework for understanding
how postcolonial narratives are
manipulated by ruling elites. Said argues that empires and postcolonial
states alike construct selective
historiographies that justify their dominance and suppress resistance.
In Bangladesh, the liberation narrative
associated with Bangabandhu is an anti-colonial, anti-imperialist project. It
affirms secularism, linguistic rights, and democratic representation.
This narrative is a threat to authoritarian and Islamist regimes,
which often prefer to align with global
conservative trends, religious populism, or foreign patronage. Erasing
Bangabandhu becomes a necessary step in rewriting
the national story—from one of liberation and sacrifice to one of
abstract sovereignty and state security. The erasure isn’t just political—it’s
deeply ideological, aimed at
replacing pluralistic nationalism
with monolithic state narratives.
2.6 Sara Ahmed and Affective Economies
While structural theories of memory are
essential, memory is also emotional,
as Sara Ahmed (2004) argues in
her work on affective economies.
Emotions, according to Ahmed, circulate within societies like commodities. They
attach to objects, spaces, and figures, helping construct collective attachments
and exclusions.
Bangabandhu is not merely remembered—he is
felt. His image evokes pride,
sorrow, resistance, and hope. His assassination generates grief; his speeches
stir passion. Thus, attempts to erase him are not just historical—they are affective erasures, designed to sever
emotional bonds between citizens and their founding figure.
The targeting of Dhanmondi 32 in 2024 was therefore an affective assault. It aimed to unmoor public sentiment from the
Father of the Nation and attach new emotions to a ‘neutral,’ depersonalized
nationalism. Ahmed’s framework reveals that memory wars are also wars over public feeling.
2.7 Michael Rothberg and Multidirectional
Memory
In Multidirectional Memory, Michael Rothberg (2009) challenges the
assumption that memory is a zero-sum game. Instead, he argues that different
historical memories can interact, overlap, and even support one another. This
theory is important in contexts where authoritarian regimes promote ‘competitive memory politics’—pitting
one narrative against another to divide public sentiment.
In Bangladesh, the legacy of Bangabandhu
has often been counterposed with alternative memory figures—from Ziaur Rahman
to religious martyrs of colonial resistance. These are not inherently
antagonistic memories. Yet, authoritarian regimes have instrumentalized the politics of comparison, falsely suggesting
that Bangabandhu’s memory dominates at the expense of others.
Rothberg’s concept helps us understand why
the connective—linking the
liberation war to contemporary calls for justice, democracy, and human rights.
2.8 Jan Assmann and the Distinction
Between Cultural and Communicative Memory
Egyptologist and memory theorist Jan Assmann (2011) distinguishes
between communicative memory—everyday
recollections transmitted through social interactions—and cultural memory, which is
institutionalized in media, rituals, and monuments.
In Bangladesh, Bangabandhu exists in both
domains. Communicative memory survives in family stories, oral histories, and
personal mourning. Cultural memory is institutionalized through state museums,
national holidays, school curricula, and visual iconography.
Authoritarian regimes aim to disrupt this continuum. By attacking cultural memory infrastructure—museums,
books, broadcasts—they hope to prevent the transformation of communicative memory into durable cultural memory.
But as Assmann argues, memory is resilient: if denied cultural space, it often
returns in the form of counter-memory,
manifested in underground media, student movements, and diasporic
commemorations.
2.9 Judith Butler and the Politics of
Mourning
In Precarious Life, Judith Butler (2004) emphasizes how mourning is a political act. Societies
define themselves through whom they allow to be mourned. Mourning certain
figures, and forbidding the mourning of others, creates a hierarchy of loss that reflects
underlying power structures.
In the context of Bangladesh, banning or
suppressing the mourning of Bangabandhu— especially on 15 August, the day of his assassination—amounts to an act of state-sanctioned dehumanization. It
suggests that some deaths are not to be grieved, that some figures are not to
be remembered. This erasure is not only historical but ontological, negating the very personhood of the Father of the
Nation.
Butler’s theory sheds light on how citizens resist through grief. The
emergence of digital mourning rituals, clandestine commemorations, and defiant
acts of memory in authoritarian settings reveal how grief becomes resistance—a way of preserving dignity and
historical truth in the face of enforced forgetting.
2.10 The Political Utility of Erasure: A
Synthesis
Drawing from these theoretical traditions,
we can synthesize the functions of memory erasure under authoritarian regimes:
Theoretical
Lens |
Mechanism of
Erasure |
Purpose |
Nora (1989) |
Destroying sites of memory |
Break affective-national continuity |
Halbwachs (1992) |
Restructuring collective memory |
Reprogram citizen identity |
Foucault (1977) |
Epistemic violence and censorship |
Control of historical truth |
Said (1994) |
Postcolonial re-narrativization |
Legitimate new ideological orders |
Ahmed (2004) |
Affective detachment |
Emotion management for consent |
Rothberg (2009) |
Competitive memory |
Divide and neutralize resistance |
Assmann (2011) |
Block cultural institutionalization |
Halt legacy transmission |
Butler (2004) |
Grief suppression |
Dehumanization and control |
This matrix illustrates that the assault on Bangabandhu’s legacy is not
incidental but systematically
structured. It is a calculated political operation to redefine history, limit mourning, distort
truth, and reengineer identity.
The erasure of Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur
Rahman’s legacy by authoritarian regimes is not merely a footnote in
Bangladesh’s political history—it is a fundamental assault on the country’s
identity, its moral compass, and its historical continuity. As the above
theoretical perspectives demonstrate, such erasures are deeply strategic, multidimensional, and ideologically
motivated.
Understanding these erasures requires a
theoretical lens that is interdisciplinary—one
that connects memory studies with political theory, postcolonial
historiography, affect theory, and digital surveillance studies. The following
sections of this paper build upon this framework to empirically demonstrate how
these erasures were implemented, resisted, and narrated—particularly in the
context of the 2024 attacks on
Bangabandhu’s memory.
3. Bangabandhu’s Legacy: A Brief Overview
It
covers:
·
His ideological framework
·
Role in the Liberation War
·
His martyrdom and symbolic legacy
·
Erasure and contestation post-1975
3.1
Situating Bangabandhu in History
To understand the contemporary struggle
over the memory of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, popularly known as Bangabandhu
(Friend of Bengal), one must trace the ideological, emotional, and political
dimensions of his legacy. As the principal architect of Bangladesh’s
independence and the nation’s first legitimate political leader, Bangabandhu
occupies a unique position in South Asian political history. His leadership in
the struggle for Bengali linguistic and cultural rights, his decisive role in
the 1971 Liberation War, and his martyrdom through assassination in 1975 have
immortalized him in the nation’s collective consciousness.
This part explores the multidimensional
legacy of Bangabandhu, structured around four thematic pillars: (1) ideological
leadership and political philosophy, (2) the Liberation War and
nation-building, (3) martyrdom and memory construction, and (4) the contested
inheritance of his legacy in the post-1975 political landscape. It argues that
Bangabandhu’s legacy is not just a historical narrative, but a living force
that continues to define the moral and ideological boundaries of Bangladeshi
nationhood.
3.2
Ideological Leadership and Political Philosophy
Bangabandhu’s political ideology was
rooted in four foundational pillars: nationalism, socialism, democracy, and
secularism. These formed the basis of the 1972 Constitution of Bangladesh and
served as the ideological compass for the new nation.
Nationalism: Bangabandhu’s nationalism was
not rooted in religious identity but in linguistic and cultural
self-determination. His leadership in the Bengali Language Movement of the
early 1950s marked the genesis of a new kind of nationalism in South Asia—one
that challenged the artificial unity of Pakistan, a state formed on religious
grounds but deeply divided along linguistic and ethnic lines (Kabir, 2013). The
Six-Point Movement (1966), which he spearheaded, demanded economic and
political autonomy for East Pakistan, laying the groundwork for eventual
secession.
Socialism: In the post-independence phase,
Bangabandhu advocated a form of democratic socialism, aiming to rebuild a
war-ravaged economy while reducing inequality. Though criticized for its
inefficiencies, his nationalization policies were intended to reclaim control
over the economy from the elite and foreign entities (Sobhan, 2000). He sought
to ensure food security, education, and healthcare, viewing them as public
rights rather than market commodities.
Democracy: Despite functioning under
intense internal and external pressures, Bangabandhu remained committed to
parliamentary democracy in the early years.
Secularism: One of the most radical
aspects of Bangabandhu’s ideology was his commitment to secularism, which he
saw as essential to the survival of a pluralistic state. His government took
strong stances against communalism and banned religion-based political parties,
seeking to reverse the Islamization trends of pre-1971 East Pakistan (Ahmed,
2004).
Together, these four pillars defined the
ideological scaffolding of Bangladesh. They also rendered Bangabandhu a
contentious figure for anti-liberation forces, religious hardliners, and
subsequent authoritarian regimes who viewed secularism and socialism as threats
to their legitimacy.
3.3
The Liberation War and Nation-Building
Perhaps the most indelible aspect of
Bangabandhu’s legacy lies in his role in leading the Bengali struggle for
independence. His 7 March 1971 speech at the Racecourse Ground is considered
one of the most powerful calls for liberation in modern history. While he
stopped short of a formal declaration of independence, his words set the course
for the Liberation War:
‘The struggle this time is a struggle for
our emancipation! The struggle this time is a struggle for our independence!’
This speech has since been recognized by UNESCO as part of the ‘Memory of the
World Register,’ underlining its global historical significance (UNESCO, 2017).
During the Liberation War, Bangabandhu was
imprisoned in West Pakistan, yet he remained the symbolic leader of the
resistance. His leadership legitimized the provisional Mujibnagar Government,
and upon his release in January 1972, his triumphant return to Dhaka was met
with euphoria. The images of his arrival and his first speeches as the Prime
Minister of independent Bangladesh are etched into the national consciousness.
His post-war challenges were enormous:
rehabilitating millions of refugees, restoring infrastructure, and crafting
foreign policy. His diplomatic acumen secured Bangladesh’s recognition from
major world powers, and his speech at the United Nations General Assembly in
1974 in Bengali was a landmark assertion of the nation's sovereign identity
(Rashid, 2012).
3.4
Martyrdom and the Construction of Memory
On 15 August 1975, Bangabandhu was
assassinated along with most of his family in a violent military coup—an act
that traumatized the nation. This event transformed him from a political figure
into a martyr, giving rise to a memory cult that persists to this day. His
house at Dhanmondi 32, the site of the massacre, became a national shrine after
1996, and August 15 is observed as National Mourning Day.
The mourning of Bangabandhu is not just
ceremonial; it is emotionally charged and politically potent. As Judith Butler
(2004) argues, the mourning of certain public figures can become a mode of
political resistance and identity formation. For the Awami League and its
supporters, commemorating Bangabandhu is an affirmation of the nation’s
founding vision. For opponents, this memory is inconvenient, even threatening,
especially for those aligned with post-1975 regimes that benefited from his
erasure.
Memory institutions such as the Bangabandhu
Memorial Museum, school textbooks, public murals, and films like Hasina: A
Daughter’s Tale (2018) have played a central role in constructing this memory
narrative. The digital space, too, has become a contested arena, with hashtags,
videos, and documentaries contributing to both the preservation and
politicization of Bangabandhu’s memory (Chowdhury, 2021).
3.5
Contestation, Revisionism, and Political Appropriation
Following the 1975 coup, military regimes
led by Ziaur Rahman and later H.M. Ershad engaged in a systematic effort to
erase Bangabandhu from official history. His image was removed from currency
notes, his name omitted from textbooks, and public mourning banned. The 1975
Indemnity Ordinance prevented prosecution of his killers, effectively
institutionalizing a historical amnesia.
Ziaur Rahman’s government promoted an
alternative narrative that elevated his own role in the Liberation War,
fostering what scholars call ‘competitive memory politics’ (Rothberg, 2009). In
doing so, Bangabandhu’s foundational role was intentionally diminished, and
national identity was reframed in terms of martial valor and Islamic identity
rather than secular resistance.
This revisionism was partially reversed
after 1996 when Sheikh Hasina, Bangabandhu’s daughter, came to power. Opponents
accuse the ruling Awami League of exploiting his memory for electoral gain,
while the ruling party positions his legacy as the moral compass of the nation.
The 2024 interim regime’s assault on
Dhanmondi 32 and other symbolic sites is the latest manifestation of this
contest. Their attempts to erase his presence from public space, digitized
platforms, and state institutions reflect a return to authoritarian memory
suppression, echoing the darkest chapters of post-1975 Bangladesh.
3.6
Legacy Beyond Borders: International Reverberations
Bangabandhu’s legacy extends beyond
Bangladesh. His speeches are taught in South Asian political history courses;
international memorials exist in India, the UK, and Japan. His emphasis on
non-alignment, regional cooperation, and Third World solidarity place him
within a broader canon of postcolonial leaders like Nehru, Nkrumah, and Sukarno
(Chakrabarty, 2015).
His leadership style—charismatic,
people-centric, and emotionally resonant—has inspired generations of
politicians and activists. The transnational Bengali diaspora, particularly in
the UK and North America, plays a crucial role in sustaining and globalizing
his memory. Commemorative events, museums, and academic conferences in these
communities keep his legacy alive, often challenging the revisionism occurring
within Bangladesh.
3.7
A Living, Contested Legacy
Bangabandhu’s legacy is not frozen in the
past; it is a living discourse, invoked in times of crisis, contested during
elections, and resurrected in art, activism, and scholarship. Whether through
his speeches, institutional reforms, or personal sacrifice, he has come to
symbolize not only the birth of Bangladesh but also the ideals it continues to
struggle for.
In authoritarian hands, his memory is a
threat. In democratic imaginations, it is a beacon. As this paper will argue in
subsequent sections, attempts to erase or manipulate this legacy are not just
attacks on one man’s memory— they are assaults on the foundational ethics of
the nation itself.
4:
Methods of Erasure from 1975 to 2024
The assassination of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman
on August 15, 1975, was not only a brutal political coup but the beginning of a
sustained project of historical erasure. Over the subsequent decades—through
authoritarian regimes, ideological turnarounds, censorship, neglect, and active
destruction—a methodical campaign to minimize, distort, or obliterate
Bangabandhu’s memory unfolded in Bangladesh. These erasures were not simply
accidental or apolitical. They were systematic instruments of statecraft, used
to reshape national identity, consolidate authoritarian power, and delegitimize
the foundational narrative of the nation’s birth.
This section provides a detailed analysis
of the various mechanisms of erasure used between 1975 and 2024. It categorizes
them under physical, symbolic, legal, educational, digital, and psychological
strategies employed by successive regimes and state actors, contextualizing
each within the broader global discourse of authoritarian memory politics.
4.1
Physical Erasure: From Houses to Heritage
4.1.1
Neglect and Demolition of Symbolic Sites
Immediately after the 1975 coup, the house
at Dhanmondi 32—where Bangabandhu and most of his family were murdered—was
sealed off, and access was prohibited. The site was allowed to fall into
neglect, and for years, no official efforts were made to preserve or
commemorate it (Kamal, 2005). This physical marginalization was a deliberate
tactic aimed at erasing the spatial memory of trauma and leadership.
Additionally, many streets, buildings, and
institutions named after Sheikh Mujibur Rahman were renamed or stripped of
commemorative plaques, especially during General Ziaur Rahman’s (1975–1981) and
General Ershad’s (1982–1990) rule. For instance, ‘Bangabandhu Stadium’ was
renamed as ‘National Stadium,’ and a proposed ‘Mujib Medical College’ project
was shelved.
4.1.2
Symbolic Erasure: Narrative Inversions and Silences
4.1.3
De-centering of the Liberation Narrative
A central mode of symbolic erasure was the
attempt to re-center the national origin story away from Bangabandhu and toward
alternative figures or ideologies. General Ziaur Rahman, for instance, declared
himself the proclaimer of independence, a direct challenge to Sheikh Mujib’s
historical role. State-sponsored textbooks and official speeches from the late
1970s and 1980s routinely omitted his name from narratives about the 1971 war
(Kabir, 2013).
4.1.4 Removal from Currency and Icons
Following the coup, Mujib’s portrait was
removed from all government offices, currency notes, and postage stamps. Where
once his image had stood as the visual anchor of national unity, the absence
became an active reminder of state disassociation. The removal of symbolic
imagery served to create a rupture in collective remembrance.
4.2 Legal Erasure: Indemnity and
Prohibition
4.2.1 Indemnity Ordinance, 1975
Perhaps the most egregious form of legal
erasure was the passage of the Indemnity Ordinance in 1975 by Khondaker Mostaq
Ahmad’s government, which granted legal immunity to the murderers of Sheikh
Mujibur Rahman and his family. This law institutionalized amnesia, effectively
blocking justice and reducing one of the nation’s most traumatic events to a
legal non-event (Ahmed, 2004).
The ordinance was later ratified by Ziaur
Rahman’s military-backed parliament and remained in effect until repealed in
1996 after the Awami League returned to power.
4.2.2 Silencing Through Emergency and Martial Law
During the martial law periods under Zia
and Ershad, any public discourse praising Sheikh Mujib or commemorating August
15 was discouraged or criminalized under emergency regulations. 4.3 Educational
and Curriculum Revisions
4.3.1 Textbook Censorship and Curriculum
Rewriting
One of the most insidious methods of
erasure was the rewriting of school textbooks. During the 1980s and early
1990s, government-published textbooks removed or minimized references to Mujib
and the Awami League. As Kabir (2013) notes, entire chapters on the Liberation
War either ignored Mujib or inserted alternate attributions to Ziaur Rahman and
other figures.
The erasure of Sheikh Mujib from school
history created generational amnesia. Students born after 1975 were socialized
into a version of history where the ‘Father of the Nation’ was at best a
footnote.
4.3.2 Rehabilitation Through Education
(Post-1996 and Retrenchment in 2001–2006)
The restoration of Mujib’s role in
textbooks and curricula was attempted after the Awami League’s electoral
victories in 1996 and again in 2009. However, these changes were often reversed
or diluted by caretaker governments and opposition regimes. This cyclical
rewriting reflects the deep politicization of history education in Bangladesh
(Chowdhury, 2021).
4.4 Digital Erasure and Surveillance
(2010s–2024)
4.4.1 Algorithmic Suppression
With the rise of social media as a vehicle
of memory, authoritarian regimes adopted algorithmic suppression tactics.
Between 2018 and 2024, numerous pro-Mujib digital archives and hashtags (e.g.,
#Mujib100, #Remember1975) were reported as shadow-banned or removed by
platforms under pressure from state-aligned actors (Bradshaw & Howard,
2019).
Such digital memory cleansing prevents
younger generations—many of whom rely on social platforms for historical
information—from accessing authentic content, thereby deepening erasure.
4.4.2 Hacking and Deletion of Archives
In 2021 and again in 2023, several key
digital archives including the Muktijuddho e-Archive and the Bangabandhu
Digital Museum Project were subjected to cyber-attacks. Investigations revealed
the involvement of foreign-funded hacking groups with domestic political
affiliations. This points to the emerging trend of cyber-authoritarianism,
where the destruction of memory takes place not with bulldozers but with
firewalls (Rosa & Muro, 2021).
4.5 Psychological Erasure and Cultural
Retrenchment
4.5.1 Trauma and Silence in Family
Narratives
The fear generated by the post-1975
regimes permeated familial and communal spaces. Many survivors of the
Liberation War or witnesses to the 1975 massacre refrained from speaking about
Mujib publicly or even at home, passing down fear instead of memory (Assmann,
2011). This created a generational vacuum, a form of psychological erasure
compounded by political repression.
4.5.2 Cultural Production Under Constraint
Between 1975 and 1990, films, literature,
and theater projects about Sheikh Mujib were routinely censored or blocked.
Directors and writers critical of the military or sympathetic to Mujib’s vision
found their works banned or unreleased. Cultural production, a vital tool of
national memory, was thus co-opted or silenced, further narrowing the space for
collective reflection (Ahmed, 2004).
4.6 Culmination: The 2024 Assault on
Dhanmondi 32
As analyzed in the 2024 attack on the
Bangabandhu Memorial Museum at Dhanmondi 32 represents the culmination of
decades of erasure. What began as curricular deletion, legal shielding, and
symbolic de-centering evolved into a full-blown physical and algorithmic
assault. The event demonstrated the mature stage of authoritarian erasure,
where memory becomes an existential threat to the regime and is targeted
accordingly.
4.7 From Erasure to Resistance
Between 1975 and 2024, authoritarian
regimes in Bangladesh employed a multi-pronged strategy to erase the memory of
Sheikh Mujibur Rahman. These included physical demolition, symbolic removal,
curricular manipulation, indemnity, digital suppression, and psychological
silencing. Each method sought to reshape national identity, disconnecting it
from its liberation roots.
However, as history shows, memory is
resilient. The very act of erasure often generates counter-memory, resistance,
and eventually, reconstruction. With each wave of repression came acts of
defiance—through underground storytelling, diaspora activism, or youth-led
digital remembrance.
The path forward lies in recognizing these
patterns and codifying memory protection as a pillar of democratic statecraft.
4.8 The Evolving
Architecture of Erasure: A Synthesis
To conceptualize the various methods of
erasure across these phases, we can categorize them under four domains:
Erasure Domain |
Tactics
Employed |
Legal/Institutional |
Indemnity Ordinance, textbook revision,
restricted commemorations |
Cultural/Symbolic |
Removal of images, censorship in media
and arts, renaming of institutions |
Spatial/Material |
Neglect of memory sites, denial of
access, demolition or re-appropriation |
Digital/Algorithmic |
Censorship, surveillance, content
manipulation, hashtag suppression |
This matrix illustrates the multi-scalar nature of memory erasure:
it operates simultaneously on the legal, spatial, symbolic, and digital fronts.
Each phase built upon the previous, deepening the apparatus of forgetting.
4.9 Memory Under Siege, Legacy Under
Construction
From the physical assassination of Sheikh
Mujibur Rahman to the algorithmic silencing of his digital presence, the
trajectory of erasure in Bangladesh reveals a profound fear of memory. Authoritarian regimes recognize that
memory can legitimize resistance, empower civic identity, and expose historical
injustices. Thus, the sustained attempts to dismantle Bangabandhu’s legacy are
not merely political maneuvers but epistemic
battles over who gets to define the nation's past, present, and future.
As we move into the next section, we
examine the 2024 assaults on Bangabandhu’s memory not as isolated incidents but
as the culmination of a fifty-year campaign of forgetting, recast in the
technologies and politics of the 21st century.
5. The 2024 Assault on Memory—Dhanmondi 32
and Beyond
5.1 Renewed Assaults in a Digital Age
The year 2024 marked a significant
intensification in the ongoing contestation over the memory of Sheikh Mujibur
Rahman, known affectionately as Bangabandhu, the Father of the Nation of
Bangladesh. The assault on Dhanmondi 32,
his ancestral home turned museum and memorial site, was not an isolated
incident but a highly symbolic attack embedded in a long history of political
memory struggles in Bangladesh (Ahmed, 2004).
This part explores the political,
cultural, and symbolic dimensions of the 2024 assaults, detailing state
actions, public responses, and digital memory warfare. We argue that the attack
on Dhanmondi 32 represents a new phase
of authoritarian memory politics, one that deploys both physical
intimidation and digital censorship to disrupt the emotional and symbolic
continuities that sustain Bangabandhu’s legacy.
5.2 Dhanmondi 32: A Site of Memory and
Identity
Dhanmondi 32, the site of Sheikh Mujibur
Rahman’s assassination on August 15, 1975, has been transformed over decades
into a sacred locus of collective
memory (Nora, 1989). The house serves as a museum preserving artifacts,
photographs, and narratives central to the national liberation story. It also
functions as a pilgrimage site for supporters, political activists, and the
diaspora, particularly during the National Mourning Day commemorations
(Chowdhury, 2021).
The site’s symbolic power derives from its
embodiment of both historical trauma
and national pride, merging personal loss with collective identity. As
such, any attempt to disrupt access or alter its physical or narrative
integrity is perceived as an attack not only on a building but on the nation’s
founding ethos (Assmann, 2011).
5.3 The 2024 Assault: Events and Tactics
5.3.1 Physical Restrictions and
Disruptions
Beginning in early 2024, reports surfaced
of restricted access to
Dhanmondi 32, with security personnel withdrawn and entrances barricaded under
vague pretexts of ‘public safety’ or ‘urban redevelopment’ (The Daily Star,
2024). Public commemorative events around August 15 faced systematic
harassment, with police interventions and detentions of activists (Human Rights
Watch, 2024).
On several occasions, unauthorized demolition work was
observed near the perimeter walls, raising fears of permanent damage to the
site. These tactics recall the earlier eras of authoritarian erasure where material space was weaponized to sever
historical memory (Nora, 1989).
5.3.2 State Narratives and Propaganda
Concurrently, state-controlled media began
framing the site as a ‘political
hotspot’ prone to unrest, shifting public discourse away from
commemoration to concerns of security and public order. Official statements
emphasized ‘modernization’ and ‘depoliticization’ of public spaces, subtly
delegitimizing emotional attachments to Dhanmondi 32 (Bangladesh Ministry of
Information, 2024).
These narratives function as a discursive strategy to justify
physical restrictions while undermining the moral authority of the memory site
(Foucault, 1977).
5.3.3 Digital Censorship and Algorithmic
Manipulation
The 2024 assaults also extended into
cyberspace. Hashtags such as #SaveDhanmondi32
and #BangabandhuLives trended
briefly before being suppressed through algorithmic shadow-banning. Videos
documenting protests and demolitions were removed or restricted on social media
platforms, many reportedly following government directives (Bradshaw &
Howard, 2019).
Such digital interventions exemplify a new
frontier of algorithmic governance,
where memory erasure operates invisibly through control of digital content and
visibility, complementing physical repression (Rosa & Muro, 2021).
5.4 Public and Diaspora Responses:
Resistance and Reclamation
5.4.1 Domestic Mobilization
Despite repression, civil society groups, student
organizations, and opposition parties mobilized to protect Dhanmondi 32.
Vigils, sit-ins, and online campaigns emerged, articulating the site as an emotional and political symbol
demanding preservation (Chowdhury, 2021).
These acts of resistance echo Judith
Butler’s (2004) notion of mourning as
political agency, whereby grief and memory function as modes of defiance
against authoritarian silencing.
5.4.2 Diasporic Advocacy and Global Memory
The Bengali diaspora, particularly in the
United Kingdom, United States, and Canada, amplified international attention.
Through coordinated campaigns, petitions to UNESCO, and cultural programs,
diaspora communities framed the assault as an attack on global heritage, linking Bangabandhu’s memory to wider struggles
for democracy and human rights (Chakrabarty, 2015).
Such transnational memory work challenges
state monopolies over national narratives, highlighting the multidirectional nature of memory
(Rothberg, 2009).
5.5 Symbolism and Semiotics: The Assault
as a Message
The assault on Dhanmondi 32 carries deeply
layered symbolic meaning. It is not merely about controlling a physical space
but about controlling historical
narrative, emotional attachment, and political legitimacy. In semiotic
terms, the site functions as a signifier
of national identity, and the regime’s assault signals a rejection of foundational ideals
(Saussure, 1916/1983).
By disrupting the site, the regime
attempts to re-signify the nation’s
past, substituting the narrative of liberation and sacrifice with one of
order, neutrality, and controlled memory. This operation aligns with Said’s
(1994) observations on the construction of postcolonial histories by ruling
elites.
5.6 Broader Implications: Memory, Identity,
and Authoritarianism
The 2024 assault exemplifies how memory
sites remain pivotal in authoritarian governance. They are barometers of political freedom and touchstones of collective identity.
The targeting of This struggle over memory is therefore a struggle over the nation’s soul—whether
Bangladesh’s future will embrace the emancipatory ideals of its founder or
succumb to historical amnesia and authoritarian control.
The 2024 attacks on Dhanmondi 32 and
related symbolic spaces represent a critical juncture in Bangladesh’s ongoing
memory wars. By combining physical repression, discursive marginalization, and
digital censorship, the regime sought to weaken the emotional and ideological
power of Bangabandhu’s legacy.
However, as history has shown, memory is
resilient. The persistent mobilization of citizens, activists, and the diaspora
underscores the enduring power of
collective memory as a source of resistance. Dhanmondi 32 remains not
only a house or museum but a living
symbol of Bangladesh’s contested past and contested future.
6. Memory as Resistance—Public and
Diasporic Counter-Movements
6.1 The Politics of Memory as Resistance
In the face of authoritarian attempts to
erase the legacy of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, memory becomes a crucial site of
resistance. This section examines how diverse actors—domestic publics, civil
society, political organizations, and the Bengali diaspora—employ practices of
remembrance to challenge state-sponsored amnesia and reclaim historical
narratives. Rooted in theoretical insights from cultural memory studies,
resistance theory, and diaspora studies, the analysis highlights memory not as
passive recollection but as active,
embodied political engagement (Butler, 2004; Assmann, 2011; Rothberg,
2009).
6.2 Public Memory Practices in Bangladesh
6.2.1 Commemorations and National Mourning
Despite restrictions, August 15—the National Mourning Day—remains a
powerful ritual where citizens publicly mourn the assassination of
Bangabandhu. Vigils, speeches, and cultural performances recreate collective
memory, reinforcing national identity and political values (Chowdhury, 2021).
These events serve as sites of ‘communicative
memory’ (Assmann, 2011), where personal and public remembrance
intersect.
6.2.2 Grassroots Activism and Memory
Politics
Local community groups and youth
organizations have increasingly taken up the mantle of memory activism. They
organize grassroots campaigns, maintain memorial spaces, and engage in memory education by documenting oral
histories and distributing literature on Bangabandhu’s life and ideals (Kamal,
2005). This democratization of memory challenges top-down historical narratives
imposed by authoritarian regimes.
6.2.3 Art, Literature, and Media as Memory
Vessels
Artists, writers, and filmmakers have
created works that narrate, preserve, and contest Bangabandhu’s legacy. Films
such as Hasina: A Daughter’s Tale (2018) and public murals in Dhaka
visualize memory, making it accessible and emotive (Ahmed, 2004). Digital media
platforms further amplify these cultural productions, enabling wide
dissemination despite censorship attempts.
6.3 The Role of the Bengali Diaspora in
Memory Mobilization
6.3.1 Diasporic Memory as Transnational
Resistance
The Bengali diaspora, dispersed primarily
in the UK, North America, and Europe, plays a pivotal role in sustaining and
globalizing Bangabandhu’s memory. Through cultural festivals, academic
conferences, and memorial events, diaspora communities cultivate a transnational collective memory that
transcends geographical boundaries (Chakrabarty, 2015).
This diasporic memory functions as a form
of counter-memory, resisting
revisionism within Bangladesh and offering alternative narratives rooted in
justice and liberation (Rothberg, 2009).
6.3.2 Digital Diaspora and Memory Networks
The diaspora extensively utilizes digital
tools—social media groups, blogs, YouTube channels—to organize campaigns and
share historical content. During the 2024 assault on Dhanmondi 32, diasporic
actors coordinated online protests, petitions to international bodies like
UNESCO, and information dissemination to global audiences (Bradshaw &
Howard, 2019). This digital diaspora
activism exemplifies the power of virtual memory networks in combating
authoritarian erasure.
6.3.3 Advocacy and Internationalization of
Bangabandhu’s Legacy
Diaspora organizations engage in lobbying
efforts to internationalize Bangabandhu’s memory as a symbol of human rights
and democratic struggle. They collaborate with global human rights groups,
organize exhibitions, and work with universities to incorporate Bangabandhu’s
legacy into academic curricula worldwide (Chakrabarty, 2015).
6.4 Jan Assmann’s Communicative and
Cultural Memory
Assmann’s distinction between communicative memory (living memory
transmitted through interpersonal communication) and cultural memory (institutionalized memory through rituals and
archives) illuminates how memory activists bridge personal and collective
spheres. In Bangladesh, grassroots activists sustain communicative memory,
while institutions like the Bangabandhu Memorial Museum embody cultural memory
(Assmann, 2011).
6.4.1 Michael Rothberg’s Multidirectional
Memory
Rothberg (2009) argues that memory is
multidirectional and relational, allowing for cross-referencing of traumatic
histories and solidarity among different oppressed groups. The Bengali
diaspora’s memory activism interacts with global movements against
authoritarianism and genocide, situating Bangabandhu’s legacy within a broader
ethical framework.
6.5 Challenges and Limitations of Memory
Resistance
6.5.1 Repression and Censorship
Public memory activists face ongoing
repression, including arrests, surveillance, and digital censorship.
Authoritarian control of media and the internet constrains the reach and impact
of memory activism (Human Rights Watch, 2024).
6.5.2 Diasporic Disconnection and
Fragmentation
While diaspora memory is vital, geographic
and generational distance can lead to differing priorities and perspectives
compared to domestic actors. Some diaspora activism is criticized for being
disconnected from on-the-ground realities (Chakrabarty, 2015).
6.6 Case Studies of Memory Resistance
6.6.1 The Save Dhanmondi 32 Campaign
This grassroots campaign mobilized both
domestic and diasporic actors to protest the 2024 assaults. Activities included
sit-ins, online petitions, and international advocacy. The campaign underscored
the intersection of physical space and
digital memory as sites of resistance (Chowdhury, 2021).
6.6.2 The #BangabandhuLives Social Media
Movement
Emerging in response to digital
censorship, this hashtag campaign utilized encrypted platforms to circulate
banned content and organize virtual commemorations. The movement demonstrates
how networked digital activism
can subvert state controls (Bradshaw & Howard, 2019).
6.7 Memory as a Site of Struggle and Hope
Memory activism surrounding Bangabandhu’s
legacy reveals the transformative
potential of remembering as a political practice. Public and diasporic
counter-movements resist authoritarian forgetting by nurturing collective
identity, exposing injustice, and demanding historical truth.
While challenges persist, the resilience
and creativity of these movements offer hope that memory will remain a powerful resource for democratic renewal
in Bangladesh and beyond.
7. Policy Responses and Future Directions
7.1 The Critical Need for Memory
Protection Policies
The sustained assaults on the legacy of
Sheikh Mujibur Rahman and the symbolic heart of Bangladeshi national identity,
particularly reflected in the 2024 attacks on Dhanmondi 32, highlight an urgent
need for comprehensive policy frameworks. These policies must safeguard
historical memory not merely as archival fact but as a living foundation for
democratic resilience, social cohesion, and political accountability.
This section critically examines current
policy measures in Bangladesh aimed at protecting cultural heritage and
historical memory, identifies systemic gaps and limitations, and proposes a
roadmap of strategic recommendations designed to prevent further erosion of the
nation’s foundational memory.
7. 2 Overview of Existing Policy Measures
Legal and
Institutional Protections
Bangladesh has enacted several legal
instruments aiming to preserve national heritage. The Ancient Monuments Preservation Act (1956), though predating
Bangladesh’s independence, remains foundational for protecting physical sites.
More recently, the government has recognized the importance of sites related to
the Liberation War, including Bangabandhu’s memorials, under various heritage
preservation initiatives (Kamal, 2005).
National Mourning Day, observed annually
on August 15, is enshrined in law as a day of remembrance, providing formal
recognition of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman’s significance. The government also
supports the Bangabandhu Memorial
Museum at Dhanmondi 32, intended as a cultural repository for artifacts
and narratives central to national identity (Assmann, 2011).
Education Policies
Efforts have been made to incorporate
Sheikh Mujibur Rahman’s legacy and the Liberation War into school and
university curricula. Textbooks across primary, secondary, and tertiary levels
include sections on Mujib’s leadership and vision for Bangladesh (Kabir, 2013).
The government has promoted cultural programs and competitions in schools
focused on the Liberation War’s history.
Digital Archiving and Memorialization
In response to technological advancements,
the government and civil society have initiated digital archiving projects
aimed at preserving oral histories, photographs, and documents related to the
Liberation War and Bangabandhu’s life (Chowdhury, 2021). These initiatives seek
to democratize access and prevent loss of materials due to physical degradation
or political manipulation.
7. 3 Gaps and Limitations in Current
Policies
Weak Enforcement and Political Volatility
Despite formal legal protections,
enforcement remains inconsistent. Political volatility has often translated
into fluctuating levels of state commitment to heritage preservation,
especially when regimes perceive the memory of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman as politically
highly convenient. This has led to selective
memory enforcement, where the same site or narrative is valorized or
suppressed depending on the ruling party.
Insufficient Digital Infrastructure
While digital archiving initiatives exist,
they are hampered by insufficient infrastructure, funding, and expertise.
Moreover, the recent phenomenon of algorithmic
censorship and digital surveillance threatens these digital memory
projects, necessitating policies addressing digital rights and transparency
(Bradshaw & Howard, 2019; Rosa & Muro, 2021).
8.
Lessons for the Nation
8.1
Memory is not a passive
Memory is not a passive recall of the past
but an active force in shaping the present and the future. In Bangladesh, the
memory of Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman—Father of the Nation, leader of the
1971 Liberation War, and architect of postcolonial statehood—has stood at the
core of the national imaginary. Yet, as this study has shown, this memory has
been under siege for nearly five decades, subjected to cycles of erasure,
re-appropriation, digital distortion, and, most recently, algorithmic and
physical assault.
As we reflect on the trajectory of memory
politics in Bangladesh from 1975 to 2024, the picture is sobering but not
hopeless. The very persistence of memory despite repeated attempts to erase it
signals resilience. This concluding section offers a reflective synthesis of
the findings and draws implications for democratizing memory, institutional
reform, and global solidarities. It argues that the future of Bangladesh’s
memory politics lies in embracing pluralism, justice, and generational
transmission.
8.2
The Centrality of Memory in the Bangladeshi Polity
Bangladesh's struggle is not only for
democracy or development but also for historical clarity. The contest over the
legacy of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman—whether in textbooks, memorials, digital
platforms, or political rhetoric—reflects a deeper battle over legitimacy,
identity, and sovereignty. As Assmann (2011) notes, cultural memory functions
as the reservoir of a nation’s sense of self. When memory is distorted,
severed, or weaponized, the consequences extend beyond historical
misunderstanding into moral disorientation, political violence, and
intergenerational fragmentation.
The 2024 attack on the Dhanmondi 32
Museum—both as a material and symbolic space—revealed the extent to which
authoritarian regimes fear memory as resistance. By targeting Mujib’s memory,
these regimes seek to destabilize the moral and historical foundations of the
republic itself.
8.3
From Erasure to Resistance: Lessons from 1975–2024
8.3.1
The Cycle of Erasure and Revival
Between 1975 and 1990, memory of
Bangabandhu was criminalized, erased from textbooks, removed from monuments,
and legally indemnified from justice. With each subsequent return of the Awami
League to power, efforts to resurrect memory intensified—only to be followed by
renewed attempts to distort or dilute it during caretaker or opposition
regimes.
8.3.2
Memory as a Landscape of Struggle
Despite these challenges, memory has
survived—not solely because of state-led efforts but due to grassroots
resilience, diasporic digital archiving, and intergenerational storytelling.
The rise of independent documentary films, youth movements like #MujibLives,
and diaspora-led oral history initiatives shows how memory roams beyond state
control (Rothberg, 2009). Memory in Bangladesh is a terrain of struggle,
simultaneously vulnerable and defiant, when anti-liberation wave come to control
state power.
8.4
Toward a Just and Democratic Memory Policy
8.4.1
Depoliticization and Pluralization of Memory
For memory to be sustainable, it must be
depoliticized and pluralized. This does not mean erasing Sheikh Mujib from
national memory but situating him within a broader ecology of memory—where
multiple narratives of the Liberation War, struggles of minorities, and
contributions of diverse actors are recognized without relativizing his
foundational role.
The state should support independent
historical school of thinking, truth-telling archives, and academic research
centers free from party control (Chakrabarty, 2015; Assmann, 2011). The
decentralization of memory production is vital to avoid authoritarian
monopolization.
8.4.2
Legal and Institutional Protections
Legal frameworks such as the National
Heritage Protection Act should be expanded to include modern political sites of
memory like Dhanmondi 32. Laws must be enacted that criminalize intentional
destruction of memory sites and offer legal remedy to victims of mnemonic
violence.
A proposed ‘National Memory Council’,
modeled on South Africa’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission, could serve to
consolidate historical truths, promote inclusive education, and prevent
manipulation of the past for political ends (Tutu, 1999; Ahmed, 2004).
8.4.3
Digital Infrastructure and Algorithmic Safeguards
As the struggle for memory migrates
online, the protection of digital heritage becomes critical. State archives,
universities, and civil society must collaborate to create resilient digital
repositories of documents, speeches, photographs, and testimonies related to
Mujib and the Liberation War (Bradshaw & Howard, 2019). Tech companies
should be held accountable for algorithmic suppression, and partnerships should
be pursued with international organizations to ensure memory justice in the
digital realm (Rosa & Muro, 2021).
8.5
Generational Transmission: Youth and Memory Futures
The long-term success of memory
preservation depends not just on law or infrastructure, but on generational
inheritance. Young people in Bangladesh today face a fragmented historical
education—one version in schoolbooks, another on social media, and yet another
from family narratives. This mnemonic dissonance can lead to alienation,
apathy, or vulnerability to misinformation. Efforts must be made to engage
youth through participatory memory practices—interactive museum exhibitions,
school field trips to memorial sites, oral history contests, virtual
storytelling apps, and AI-powered history education tools.
As Nora (1989) argues, the shift from
milieux de mémoire (environments of memory) to lieux de mémoire (sites of
memory) has created a dependency on curated, symbolic memory. In Bangladesh’s
case, this should be reversed by reinvigorating living environments of memory
within families, communities, and schools.
8.6
Comparative Lessons and Global Solidarity
Bangladesh’s memory struggle is not
unique. From Turkey’s denial of the Armenian genocide (Akçam, 2012) to
Myanmar’s erasure of Rohingya history (Green, 2019), authoritarian regimes
frequently rewrite or delete uncomfortable pasts. Conversely, countries like
Germany, South Africa, and Argentina offer models of historical reckoning
through truth councils, reparative justice, and institutional memory work
(Rothberg, 2009).
Bangladesh can learn from these
experiences by:
-Establishing institutional independence
for memory bodies.
-Linking memory work with human rights
advocacy.
-Forming transnational networks for
digital memory protection.
-Promoting collective commemoration that
transcends partisanship.
International support—especially from
UNESCO, ICOMOS, and digital humanities organizations—can play a pivotal role in
protecting endangered heritage and amplifying silenced histories.
8.7
Risks and Opportunities Ahead
The future of memory politics in
Bangladesh hangs in a delicate balance. The authoritarian backsliding,
intensified surveillance, and post-truth politics threaten the preservation of
authentic history. On the other hand, technological innovation, youth activism,
and global solidarity offer unprecedented tools for democratizing memory.
The risk lies in fragmentation—where
conflicting narratives, deepening polarization, and historical illiteracy
fracture the national fabric. The opportunity lies in regeneration—where memory
becomes not a source of division but a foundation for moral unity and
democratic continuity.
8.8
Memory as Democratic Infrastructure
Sheikh Mujibur Rahman once declared, ‘The
struggle this time is the struggle for our emancipation.’ That struggle continues—not
only in the realm of politics or economics but in the domain of memory. To
erase Mujib is to erase the story of emancipation, and to preserve him is to
reclaim the possibility of freedom rooted in justice, dignity, and truth.
The politics of memory must evolve into a
memory of politics—a vigilant awareness of how power manipulates history and
how people resist such manipulation through mourning, documentation, education,
and protest.
Bangladesh stands at a crossroads. The
future of its democracy depends in part on the future of its memory—on whether
it chooses authoritarian amnesia or democratic remembrance. This study calls
for an urgent collective commitment to the latter.
9:
Conclusion
9.1 Memory as a Democratic Battleground
In Bangladesh, the project of remembering
is profoundly political. The memory of Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman—his
assassination, his ideology, his role in the Liberation War, and his contested
legacy—remains central to the nation’s identity. From 1975 to 2024, we have
witnessed the construction, distortion, suppression, and revival of that memory
in a turbulent dance with state power, populist politics, and algorithmic
manipulation. What began with silencing a leader has evolved into a deeper
contest over who gets to remember, what is remembered, and how that memory
shapes collective futures.
This conclusion offers reflective insights
into what the history of these assaults tells us about Bangladesh’s trajectory
and how memory can be reimagined as resistance, reconciliation, and
nation-building. It also proposes a vision for a more inclusive, accountable,
and democratically embedded memory infrastructure in Bangladesh.
9.2
The Politics of Forgetting: Authoritarianism and Memory Regimes
Memory politics in Bangladesh has often
served as a tool for authoritarian consolidation. Whether under the military
regimes of Ziaur Rahman and Ershad or in more recent pseudo-democratic
governments, state actors have consistently tried to reshape or suppress
historical memory to consolidate legitimacy.
These efforts were often justified in the
name of stability, neutrality, or modernization, but in practice, they sought
to:
-Relativize Sheikh Mujib’s central role in
Bangladesh’s liberation.
-Erase evidence of military culpability in
the 1975 massacre.
-Promote counter-histories that recast
political rivals as national heroes.
-Censor the cultural and academic
production of Mujib-centric false narratives.
-Digitally suppress or algorithmically
manipulate memory in social media and digital repositories.
The 2024 assault on the Dhanmondi 32
Museum, a site etched into the emotional and national consciousness of
Bangladesh, was not an anomaly. Because it was the meticulously well-designed
of erasing national memories vandalism by radical militansts violence.
9.3
The Resilience of Memory and the Power of Counter-Narratives
Despite the systemic erasures, memory has
endured—not as a monolith, but as a pluralistic and living force. Memory, in
this sense, became resistance. Grassroots movements, the diaspora, independent
historians, artists, and digital archivists have all played key roles in
resurrecting suppressed truths.
We saw examples of this resilience in:
-Oral history movements that preserved war
memories across generations.
-The rise of diasporic memory archives,
especially in the UK, USA, and Canada.
-Student-led remembrance initiatives
(e.g., #Remember1975 and #JusticeforMujib).
-The digital restoration of banned books,
videos, and public speeches.
-Artistic productions that refused to obey
the state's historical silences.
As Rothberg (2009) and Nora (1989) have
argued, memory exists in a tension between institutional monuments and living
communities, between militants supported state narratives and public
resistance. Bangladesh is now in a moment where those counter-narratives are no
longer just acts of cultural dissent—they are emerging as foundations for new
democratic imaginaries.
9.4
What the 2024 Assault Revealed About Memory in Crisis
The events of 2024 were an event of
erasing freedom fight of 1971, Language Movement of 1952, Six points of 1966,
mass uprising of 1969.
-The symbolic space of mourning was
converted into a battlefield of radical militants supported state suppression.
9.5
Toward Memory Justice: A Democratic Future
What might memory justice look like for
Bangladesh? Based on the analysis across this article, five interlinked
dimensions are essential:
1. Legal Recognition and Protection
Laws must protect memory spaces, punish
historical distortion, and guarantee archival access. A National Memory
Protection Act (as proposed in Section 8) is essential to prevent future
assaults on places like Dhanmondi 32 and ensure that no regime can rewrite
history with impunity.
2. Institutional Independence
Institutions such as the Liberation War
Museum, National Archives, and education boards must be insulated from
political interference. Memory commissions modeled on global truth-telling
institutions should be introduced (Tutu, 1999; Rothberg, 2009).
3. Educational Pluralism
Memory education should move beyond rote
curriculum into participatory, inclusive, and critically engaged forms.
Students must not only learn facts but also feel the moral weight of historical
events like the 1971 war and the 1975 coup.
4. Digital and Algorithmic Safeguards
Bangladesh must treat digital memory as a
public good. Partnerships with global digital rights organizations are
necessary to combat disinformation, preserve data integrity, and protect public
memory infrastructure online (Bradshaw & Howard, 2019).
5. Cultural and Civic Participation
Art, literature, theatre, and public
storytelling must be encouraged to democratize memory. Memory cannot be
preserved by archives alone; it must live through people—in festivals, murals,
oral traditions, and intergenerational rituals.
9.6
Global Comparisons and Strategic Lessons
Memory politics in Bangladesh is not
unique. The Turkish state’s repression of Kurdish history, Argentina’s Dirty
War cover-ups, Russia’s rewriting of Soviet-era purges, and India’s erasure of
anti-colonial Muslim heroes all reveal how authoritarian regimes manipulate
memory (Olick & Robbins, 1998).
What Bangladesh can learn:
From Germany: rigorous truth-telling,
institutional humility, and the legal criminalization of Holocaust denial.
From South Africa: healing through
testimony, as seen in the Truth and Reconciliation Commission.
From Rwanda: post-genocide memory laws
that criminalize incitement and distortion.
9.7
Conclusion and Final Reflections
Memory as Hope and Resistance, Memory
justice is not just about the past—it
is a moral infrastructure for the future. In the face of repeated attacks,
memory remains a form of hope. The memory of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman—his
speeches, ideals, and martyrdom—has outlived military juntas, textbook
revisions, social media blackouts, and political betrayals. That endurance is a
testament to the people’s moral intuition, their refusal to forget what
matters. Memory is not a luxury of the past—it is a necessity for the future.
Bangladesh cannot build democratic continuity, civic empathy, or pluralistic
nationalism without safeguarding the story of its birth and the memory of its
founding leader. The 2024 assault on Dhanmondi 32 has laid bare the vulnerability
of symbolic spaces in authoritarian contexts.
The policy proposals outlined above—from
legal frameworks and educational mandates to digital archives and civic
partnerships—form a blueprint for memory justice. These frameworks must be
future-proofed, inclusive, and resistant to regime change. Only then can
Bangladesh move from a reactive to a proactive memory system—where remembrance
is not only about preservation but about empowerment, reflection, and
democratic renewal.
Bangladesh cannot afford a land of total
blank— not now, not after 1971, and not after 2024. The future must be built on
memory that is ethical, inclusive, transgenerational, and just. Only then can
Bangabandhu’s dream of a ‘Sonar Bangla’ truly find its full realization.
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