On the glorious occasion of Bangladesh’s 55th Independence Day, I pay my heartfelt tribute and deep respect to the martyrs of the Liberation War and the valiant war heroes who risked their lives to secure our cherished freedom. I also extend my warm greetings and congratulations to my fellow surviving freedom fighters and all those who willingly joined our historic cause, ready to lay down their lives for it.
The meaning of a war of liberation
A war of liberation occurs only once in a nation’s lifetime. But what does it truly mean? Why do people take up arms despite knowing the grave dangers involved?
To me, a war of liberation is the final tipping point for an oppressed and suppressed population when they can no longer endure tyranny. It is a collective uprising, a phoenix-like resurgence to reclaim freedom, rights, and dignity — to practice one’s religion, culture, and traditions without fear. It is a revolt against the shackles of oppression, whether imposed by foreign rulers or domestic despots.
The struggle for independence: From hope to war
Between 1947 and 1971, despite being the majority population, the people of East Pakistan found themselves marginalized. West Pakistan controlled the political system, the administration, the military, and the national economy, systematically depriving Bengalis of their due rights.
This deep-seated sense of injustice led to the historic general election of December 1970, in which the people overwhelmingly voted for the Awami League, led by Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman. The outcome should have paved the way for a new government, but the ruling junta in West Pakistan was unwilling to transfer power.
In response to mass protests across East Pakistan, President Yahya Khan initially announced that the National Assembly would convene on March 3, 1971. However, under pressure from Zulfikar Ali Bhutto — leader of the People’s Party, the majority party of West Pakistan — he suddenly postponed the session indefinitely. This betrayal ignited national outrage. Sheikh Mujib, in response, called for a continuous general strike.
On March 7, 1971, at a historic public gathering, Mujib delivered his momentous speech, proclaiming:
“The struggle this time is the struggle for our emancipation! The struggle this time is the struggle for our independence!”
“Once we have given blood, if necessary we’ll give more blood but we will snatch our independence, God willing,” he thundered.
The historical speech of Sheikh Mujib has been compared with the famous speech of President Abraham Lincolnon in Gettysburg on November 19, 1863. The speech has also found a place in the top 100 speeches in world history.
While he stopped short of an outright declaration of independence, the people took his words as a call to arms. Tensions escalated as Yahya Khan arrived in Dhaka on March 15 for negotiations, while secretly plotting a military crackdown. Under the cover of diplomatic talks, Pakistani forces reinforced their presence in East Pakistan, preparing for a brutal assault under “Operation Searchlight.” Despite warnings from Bengali officers in the Pakistani army, Mujib inexplicably ignored them, giving Yahya Khan the opportunity to execute his plan.
March 25, 1971: The night of genocide
On the fateful night of March 25, 1971, the Pakistan Army unleashed one of the worst genocides in modern history. Heavily armed troops stormed Dhaka University, the EPR headquarters in Pilkhana, and the Rajarbagh police barracks, mercilessly killing thousands of innocent civilians, including students, academics, and police officers. Sheikh Mujib was arrested and taken to West Pakistan.
At this critical moment, when Mujib was absent, and the political leadership was in disarray, a little-known army officer, Major Ziaur Rahman (later Major General and President), made a decisive move. From his base in Chittagong, he delivered a ground-shaking declaration:
“We revolt.”
Hearing about the massacre in Dhaka, Zia’s words became a beacon of hope. His call to arms ignited the nation, particularly the youth, who had been anxiously waiting for such a moment to dedicate themselves to the fight for liberation. His voice not only reverberated across the country, marking the beginning of the War of Liberation, it also secured his place in history as a national hero.
A freedom fighter’s reflections
As a freedom fighter who took up arms in those fiery days, I consider it my life’s greatest achievement. The pride I feel is not mine alone — it belongs to my family, my wife, my children, my grandchildren, and my siblings, who cherish this legacy as a priceless honour.
As March 26 approaches, my mind races back to those days filled with both excitement and uncertainty. I remember leading my men on risky operations — patrolling, ambushes, raids, and hit-and-run missions — to strike fear into the enemy. Each time we set out, I feared whether we would return alive.
War is a paradox of bravery and fear. When bullets whiz past your ears or mortar shells rain down like a hailstorm, filling the air with deafening noise and the nauseating stench of smoke, you feel as though you are walking through a nightmare. The battlefield is unlike anything an outsider can comprehend.
I have witnessed firsthand the raw courage of young fighters who, in the chaos of war, defied commands to retreat, choosing instead to charge forward despite facing certain death. Their unwavering spirit convinced me that no force on earth could keep these people subjugated forever.
Finally, after nine months of relentless struggle and the sacrifice of three million lives, we achieved victory on December 16, 1971 — a victory that was achieved without the presence of our leader. But the cost was staggering — our economy lay in ruins, our infrastructure shattered, and our people traumatized.
Post-independence disillusionment
When Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib returned to Bangladesh on January 10, 1972, the provisional government, without hesitation, handed him complete authority to lead the nation into the future. People placed their trust in him, believing in his vision. Soon after, they found themselves disillusioned.
Instead of the promised prosperity, the country plunged into rampant corruption, smuggling, hoarding of essential goods, and suppression of political dissent. Basic freedoms were curtailed, and Mujib’s government unleashed the Rakkhi Bahini, a paramilitary force with unchecked power, reminiscent of Hitler’s Gestapo. The people, who had fought so hard for democracy, now found themselves under an authoritarian regime.
Shockingly, Mujib — the man who had dedicated his life to democracy — took an undemocratic turn, abolishing the multi-party system in favour of a one-party dictatorship. Ignoring the warnings of his close associates, he became increasingly dictatorial, alienating even his supporters.
The inevitable happened. On the night of August 15, 1975, a small group of army officers assassinated Mujib, with his entire family, save the two daughters — Hasina and Rehana, who were abroad at the time.
Consequently, this led the way for General Ziaur Rahman to take charge and steer the nation towards a new direction.
It is often said that reaching the pinnacle of success is difficult, but remaining there is even harder. One of the greatest political tragedies is that Sheikh Mujib, once revered by the people as a near-demigod, fell from grace in a remarkably short time due to his failure to meet public expectations. His downfall echoes the theme of Robert Browning’s poem, The Patriot, which vividly portrays the fleeting nature of public adulation and the harsh consequences of lost trust.
A new dawn after another struggle
As we celebrate our 55th Independence Day, I extend my deep gratitude to the student leaders of the Monsoon Revolution, who led the charge to oust Sheikh Hasina after more than a decade and a half of despotic rule, much like her father’s. Their sacrifices were no less noble than those of our liberation heroes. Thanks to their efforts, the people of Bangladesh can now breathe the fresh air of freedom once again.
It is also a blessing that, at a moment of dire crisis, Nobel Peace Laureate Professor Muhammad Yunus — the most renowned Bangladeshi on the global stage — has agreed to lead an interim government (IG). His leadership offers hope in guiding the nation out of its prolonged darkness toward a brighter future, ensuring the eradication of deep-rooted evils from society. His selfless efforts and vision deserve our unwavering support.
However, most importantly, we must remain vigilant. Our hard-earned achievements can be easily derailed, just as we saw in the aftermath of 1971. Let this be a lesson to all — that the fight for freedom does not end with independence; it must be safeguarded every single day.
Role of India in our struggle for liberation
Writing history is a complex task, but ignoring historical truths is a betrayal of history itself. India’s direct assistance was instrumental in Bangladesh’s liberation, significantly accelerating the process. Without India’s support, achieving independence would have been an uphill battle — one that, while inevitable, would have come at an unthinkable cost in both time and human suffering.
Beyond military and diplomatic support, India also provided shelter to over 10 million Bangladeshi refugees for nine long months, ensuring food, medical care, and security, including a considerable number of Indian troops sacrificing their lives alongside the freedom fighters.
It is true that India’s assistance was neither free nor without strategic benefits. The breakup of Pakistan gave India a significant geopolitical dividend and the prospect of a promising market in Bangladesh.
However, India’s underlying ambition to dominate Bangladesh in all sectors became apparent soon after liberation, straining the once-friendly relations. Over the following decades, tensions deepened, altering the course of bilateral ties.
But that is another chapter of history to be discussed another day.
Ashraf ud Doula is a freedom fighter, a retired secretary and ambassador.
