Arts & Letters

EDITOR'S NOTE

SATURDAY, APRIL 30, 2016

Because Zero Stopped By

L

ooking at the amount of English language writing that came out in the past three or four years in the form of fiction, non-fiction, poetry and translation, it is hard to say that not much is happening in English.

Bangladeshi authors, both from local and diasporic communities, are getting increasingly published by international and regional publishing companies. The local publishing scene in English is thriving too.

A review essay on Prof Rehman Sobhan’s memoir Untranquil Recollections, published by an acclaimed Indian publishing house, and a report on a new translation of Kazi Nazrul Islam’s prose fiction and a coffee table book on the history of Buddhism partly testify to that new tide of Bangladeshi English writing.

There are also a literary reflection that addresses a current debate on “cultural appropriation” and a short piece that covers the ongoing celebrations of Shakespeare’s 400th anniversary of death. l

INSIDE

15

DT

Arts & Letters

16

Shamsad Mortuza

Zero is zeroing in on us.

Zero, Brother Zero.

When he got it We laughed at his zero See, nothing comes out of nothing You believed nothing You became nothing Look what has happened To your blogs now!

Who’ll write them?

Who’ll right them?

Meanwhile, I listened to The Doors: ‘There’s a killer on the road...’

And explained how Jim Morrison Got his band’s name from Blake’s ‘The doors of perception.’

And I updated my status, And I joined a human chain, And I brewed storms over teacups,

A tale of two economies

17

And I sighed, And I sighted:

Conspiracy, distractions, politics,

Ideology, tactics, insanity.

And I sang: ‘there’s a killer on the road...’

And then Fizz came along-And I marveled at his cutter (secretly) And I raised myself on a moral high ground (publicly) And looked at those virtual minions ‘How could you forget Tanu, Rana Plaza, Cyber Heist, Biometrics...

Oh the Indian Plate, the fault line And the tremor looming large?’

That didn’t stop me from going to restaurants Uploading fancy pics and copying and pasting cool links God didn’t stir; why should we?

Mere mortals ...

Stay still. Stay nil.

Can you really ‘own’ a culture?

18

Shakespeare celebration & book corner

Then Zero bled-It was a clean slit; Cleaner than Fizz’s dot balls The blood came out like the Onrush of AB de-Villier’s runs; The man who played sitar The man who taught poetry Lay near the bus stop That would have taken him to ...

Well Brother Zero stopped by Because he needed to Bag another zero!

Another zero?

Don’t count your numbers yet !

One day there will be One Who will stand before all the zeroes And make all these zeroes count!

Send your submissions to: anl@dhakatribune.com

DT

16

SATURDAY, APRIL 30, 2016

Arts & Letters

A tale of two economies

REVIEW ESSAY

n Deb Mukharji

R

ehman Sobhan needs no introduction to civil societies in the Indian sub-continent. In Bangladesh his is a deeply respected name. An economist and teacher by profession, he has been intimately involved with social, economic and political issues, maintaining his objectivity and remaining above the fractured politics of his country. Acknowledged worldwide as a development economist, Prof Sobhan has written many books which both educate and illuminate. The three volume collection of his essays (Centre for Policy Dialogue:2007) covered not only his own intellectual odyssey but also the history of the last years of erstwhile East Pakistan and the first decades of Bangladesh.

Untranquil Recollections ends with the emergence of Bangladesh in 1971 and is a book of quite a different genre. It is part autobiography, shared with candour and humour, and part a biography of East Pakistan, the two often intermixing. The author had lived through “interesting times”.

His own family connections (leaving aside descent from the first Caliph, Hazrat Abu Bakr Siddiq) were with the non-Bengali ruling elite of East Pakistan who were ever at odds with the Bengali nationalists. He went to St Paul’s School in Darjeeling and the Aitchison College in Lahore; he obtained his bachelor’s degree from Cambridge University. He had all the qualifications to become the staunchest supporter of Pakistan’s upper crust. Yet, for reasons he is not quite able to explain, he chose Dhaka instead of Peshawar for a teaching post.

“At that stage of my life, my adopted homeland was for me, an idea – not a place ... chose Dhaka not out of compulsion or circumstance, birth or ancestral inheritance, but an ideological decision to proclaim myself a Bangali”.

While it was true he made friends among the Punjabi elite at Aitchison, the overweening attitude of their superiority displayed towards East Pakistan (“ East Bengal was viewed as a remote colony in the same way as students of Eton must have viewed the Indian empire”) might have rankled with him.

As the young lecturer took up his assignment in Dhaka, he had no distinct political ideology or affiliation, though he held progressive ideals since Cambridge where he acquired the “capacity to challenge received wisdom, pomposity or authority established by virtue of age”.

The author had met Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib only hours before the crackdown and recalls him saying, ‘Yahya thinks he can crush the movement by killing me. But he is mistaken.

An independent Bangladesh will be built on my grave’

Untranquil Recollections -The Years of Fulfilment

By Rehman Sobhan SAGE India January 2016 Pages 486 Price: Rs. 450 (PB) Rs. 1,250 (HB) (available on amazon and flipkart)

But the political environment in Dhaka was such that issues had to be squarely faced. While East Pakistan was suffering from blatant economic discrimination, Rehman Sobhan stated that there were in fact two economies in Pakistan.

His statement was carried in the media beside Field Marshal Ayub Khan’s statement to the contrary.

It was the dark period of Governor Monaem Khan’s tenure in East Pakistan when laws were openly flouted and goons were let loose on teachers at Dhaka University. This was also the period when Sobhan wrote trenchantly and passionately about the discrimination against Pakistan’s eastern wing, as his collected works testify.

The early 1960s were also the

time when Dhaka was seething with anger towards the establishment’s efforts to curb cultural activities. Tagore songs had been banned and Monaem Khan was said to have instructed that the government should find people to compose “Tagore” songs appropriate to the ethos of Pakistan. Sobhan, however, does not dwell on these developments at any length.

His attention was on the economy and the cultural-linguistic upheaval did not have a direct impact on him. There is no pretence in him of writing a history of events that he had witnessed but with which he was not actively involved. He writes about the areas he understood and was involved with.

Even though Sobhan was not in-

volved in politics, it was inevitable that as East Pakistan demanded its economic rights, his contribution to the cause would be required.

He denies his personal authorship of the Six Points demand of the Awami League, voiced by Sheikh Mujibur Rehman in 1966, but there is little doubt that he left a stamp on the economic aspects of the demand, which led to its final formulation.

The Six Points was to continue to resonate both in East and West Pakistan. The 1970 election was fought by the Awami League with the Six Points as its charter. The East saw it as the gateway to autonomy and emancipation from the dictatorship of the West while the West saw it as the first step to secession. Prof Sobhan’s comment that Sheikh Mujib may not have appreciated the full implications of the Six Points is noteworthy.

The author provides an invaluable insider account of the discussions within the AL, following its sweeping victory in the 1970 elections, and of how its demands could be accommodated within the constitution to be framed. Sobhan was among those assigned to discuss possible areas of convergence with the Pakistan Peoples Party (PPP) and was dismayed to find that PPP stalwarts, many of them well known to him, despite their liberal pretensions, retained their primary loyalty to the welfare of Punjab. He must have been reminded of the Punjabi arrogance towards East Pakistan that he had witnessed in his Aitchison College days. Years later, he was to receive confirmation of the Faustian deal that Bhutto in his thirst for power had struck with Yahya Khan at

a Larkana weekend when he had advised the president that Bengali pretensions could be disposed of by a whiff of grapeshot. As Yahya remained reticent in convening a new parliament, the control of the administration passed into the hands of the AL from early March 1971. In Islamabad at the time, I had listened in wonderment as Radio Pakistan Dhaka, transmuted to Dhaka Betar Kendra, broadcast rousing “nationalist” songs.

These were deeply turbulent times. As Yahya and Bhutto kept up the charade of negotiations with the AL, Pakistani troops with modern weapons and ammunitions flowed into East Pakistan. And the charade went on till the army was let loose on the people to contain resistance.

The author had met Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib only hours before the crackdown and recalls him saying, “Yahya thinks he can crush the movement by killing me. But he is mistaken. An independent Bangladesh will be built on my grave.”

There are questions that may still remain with regard to the hours, weeks and years that preceded the fateful night of March 25, 1971. Mujib had committed himself to the Six Points, limiting the space for manoeuvre. How did he or his advisers expect this to play out in the realm of politics? Mujib had been an ardent believer in Pakistan, though issues of discrimination had frayed his loyalty at the edges, as his Unfinished Memoirs indicate. It was as prime minister of Pakistan that he had wished to deliver justice to the East. When did he decide that a parting of ways was inevitable? As Sobhan points out, his speech at the Race Course on March 7 was a masterpiece, calling on the people to be prepared for a final battle, and yet leaving open the possibility of a negotiated settlement. Some recent memoirs confirm that Sheikh Mujib had been cautioned about the Pakistani troop building up and the certainty of a crackdown. Yet he had not agreed to a preemptive move by the Bengalis in the armed forces, preferring the constitutional route and, hence, legitimacy. Besides, his message read out over the radio in Chittagong, had no instructions on how the struggle was to continue.

His comments to Sobhan on the evening of March 25 display confidence about the final outcome, but do have a tinge of fatalism. The author does not claim to have all the answers and, as he rightly says, “it is always possible to be wise after the event – and amateur historians can sit at a safe distance and pass judgement”.

The author’s comment that “few

17

DT

Arts & Letters

SATURDAY, APRIL 30, 2016

REFLECTION

Can you really ‘own’ a culture?

Arts & Letters encourages literary reflection on issues of contemporary culture. It can be analytical observation or an outpouring of emotions and thoughts about new trends in fashion, music, architecture, film, literature etc. Here’s a piece that engages us in the ongoing debate on ‘cultural appropriation’

n Shuprova Tasneem

While East Pakistan was suffering from blatant economic discrimination, Rehman Sobhan stated that there were in fact two economies in Pakistan

Bangalis at the time retained any sentimental attachment to the Pakistani concept” could be open to debate, given the important role Bengali Muslims played in the creation of Pakistan as well as post-liberation developments in the polity of Bangladesh itself. It is arguable that while 1971 was the final stage in the East’s quest to be free from the West, it did not negate the ‘Pakistani concept’ (or the two nation theory). Abul Mansur Ahmed was to say it was the “‘end of a betrayal and the restoration of the Lahore Resolution.”

Sobhan was a prime target of the Pakistani forces. He fled to Agartala after many adventures, where

his non-proficiency in Bangla, and wearing his lungi with a belt, could have had dire consequences as he ran the gauntlet of freedom fighters on the way. In Delhi, his past connections with the fraternity of economists gave him access to the highest echelons of power where he recounted the trauma to which his people were being subjected.

Later, in the United States, he was to play an important role in creating public opinion against Pakistani actions and ensuring the curtailment of World Bank assistance to Pakistan, despite the best efforts of Nixon and Kissinger.

Untranquil Recollections could well stand on its own as a candid autobiography .The author has had the courage to admit to his brief training as a cobbler. Prowess in sports and continuing fondness for pulsating forms of western dance reveal a personality going much beyond the public image of the professor. But its lasting merit would lie in the extensive insider’s view of the internal processes that led to the emergence of Bangladesh.

In conclusion, the author speaks of “moments of infinite possibilities earned through enormous sacrifices” and wonders how far they have been realised. That question remains. l The writer, a former diplomat, was Indian high commissioner to Bangladesh.

The phrase “cultural appropriation” has popped up frequently in mainstream media, and the latest fad that caused an uproar was certain European pop artists wearing bindi (or teep, as we call it here), turning it into fashion statements at concerts.

Twitter exploded thereafter with Reclaim the Bindi movement and women of South Asian descent began sharing pictures of themselves in traditional attire as a protest against the appropriation of bindi by those of non-South Asian, particularly, European descent.

According to the anonymous founder of the movement, “The campaign is a way for South Asians to show pride in their culture … it is a huge part of the cultural identity of South Asians, a reminder of where I come from and the community I belong to. It’s a part of my religious identity, a marker of my third eye, a reminder that I am a Hindu.”

It was amazing, indeed, to see young women in our part of the world take pride in their culture. At the same time, it did make one wonder – can we really adhere to set definitions of culture, and appoint gatekeepers to guard the sanctity of a specific mark of a culture?

Firstly, how does this movement pertain to Bangladeshi women like me who love the teep and consider it a symbol of their Bengali identity, but not a sacred symbol of religious identity? More importantly, how can I, as someone who wears jeans on winter days instead of kameezes/saris and goes to Bangladeshi weddings only to eat biryani and sustains multiple nearheart attacks during cricket matches, complain when someone else adopts something from my own culture?

We cannot say with certainty that the world is divided into separate and specific cultures, especially not in our parts of the world. From the mid-seventh century on, the spice trade in this region was dominated by Arab traders and for centuries, the Silk Road and the Indian Ocean had connected China to the Indian subcontinent, Arabia, East Africa and the Mediterranean. Alongside all of these cosmopolitan influences stood our vast rivers with innumerable villages on their banks, giving birth to Bhatiyali, Bhawaiya, Gombhira, Lalon geeti and of course, the cultures of our indigenous populations, and a myriad of other folk traditions.

For generations, a strong oral tradition has been kept alive in our rural areas simply through daily cultural practices and collective memory. The culture we now have is like a river of Bangladesh - a roaring force with a steady stream of folk tradition converging on tides of different cultures brought to us through expansion of commerce and trade and many traits of colonial culture adopted while under Turkish, Afghan, Mughal and British rule.

Bangladeshi culture (and South Asian culture as a whole) has always been synonymous with pluralism.

This is the essence of who we are, and when we latch on to one specific item or attire as our cultural prerogative and exclusively so, we do not speak out against social injustice or racism, but put up barriers that strangle multiculturalism in its path. In a world that is already divided by identity politics and creating a Huntington-esque “clash of civilisations”, we end up perpetuating stereotypes and making ourselves the exotic “other” by insisting on creating gated cultures, inaccessible to the rest of the world.

Even more worryingly, we end up giving ammunition to certain factions who would rather do away with these cultures anyway. Certain extremist organisations like Hefazat-e-Islam have already claimed teep is a part of Hindu culture and have tried to bin it along

with saris, folk music and even Pohela Boishakh celebrations! Only a week ago, Rajshahi University Professor AFM Rezaul Karim Siddiquee was brutally murdered, and his only crime, it seemed, was that he opened a school and was involved in cultural activities. Now is not the time to nitpick at cultural appropriation or appreciation, but to focus on preserving the plurality and liberal ideals that make up our culture and to make sure they are not misrepresented and exterminated.

It is time to recognise that culture is fluid and ever-changing, and that’s what makes it so beautiful. We should definitely find meaningful ways to protest against racism, and by all means, encourage others to adopt other cultures with respect, not appropriate them. However, we cannot outright ban others from wearing our traditional attire because culture does not come with intellectual and property rights, and it cannot be attached to notions of ownership. When we do this, we are not policing fashion, but we are policing the exchange of ideas, which is a dangerous way forward. In these critical times, we need to broaden the platform for cultural exchange, which only can lead us to a kinder and more tolerant society. l Shuprova Tasneem is a journalist. She writes on various cultural issues.

DT

Arts & Letters

18

SATURDAY, APRIL 30, 2016

SHAKESPEARE CELEBRATION

A poet for all time n Arts & Letters Desk

T

he English department of Dhaka University celebrated on Tuesday the 400th death anniversary of William Shakespeare through a day-long programme of recitations, presentations, poster competition and exhibition and a number of skits based on Shakespeare’s plays.

The second session, which was held at the RC Majumdar Auditorium, saw both teachers and students of the department perform in skits and recitations. It was also the session in which scholars such as Professor Emeritus Serajul Islam Chowdhury, Prof Syed Manzoorul Islam, Prof Fakrul Alam and Prof Tahmina Ahmed read excerpts from their articles on different aspects of Shakespeare’s plays and poems. Prof Rubina Khan, chairperson of the department, started the session with a welcome address.

A festive mood was in the air with students donning dresses or costumes that reminded one of characters from an Elizabethan play. All the luminaries of the Eng-

lish faculty were seen mingling with the students.

Rabindranath Tagore’s poem in tribute to Shakespeare and late Prof Khondokar Ashraf Hossain’s “Horatio’r Proti Hamlet” (Hamlet to Horatio) were recited by students.

In another interesting segment, Prof Niaz Zaman and Prof Rubina Khan, among others, recited some of Shakespeare’s sonnets while Prof Selim Sarwar of North South University, read out his own Bangla translation of those sonnets.

The readings of Prof Chowdhury, Prof Islam, Prof Alam and Prof Mortuza emphasised Shakespeare’s relevance to the current social, political and literary issues.

The cultural programme began with winners reading out their entries in the competition “Emails to Shakespeare and/or his Characters”.

This was followed by the “Dress as your favourite character” contest.

Then, skits performed both by students and teachers were staged.

The day-long programme ended in the evening with the prize giving ceremony. l

Posters designed and painted by students for the occasion

BOOK CORNER

Strides towards translation and historiography n Arts & Letters Desk

N

ymphea Publication has brought out a fresh new translation of Kazi Nazrul Islam’s fiction Mrityukshudha (December 2015) and a fat coffee table book, Buddhist Heritage of Bangladesh (August 2015), on the history of Buddhism in this country.

Mrityukshudha has been translated by Professor Niaz Zaman, distinguished writer, editor and translator. This is the first English translation of the novel which adds significantly to the body of Bangla classics in translation.

In her preface to the translation, Prof Zaman notes, “However, unlike Rabindranath Tagore – whose novels have been translated and discussed – Kazi Nazrul Islam’s novels have generally been brushed aside by scholars. While it is true that his [Nazrul’s] novels are pale in comparison to his poems and songs, they not only complement his poetic writings but also provide a siginificant perspective on some of his perennial themes ...”

She goes on to say, “ ... the novel is perhaps his most detailed account of poverty in his prose writings as well as of a political activist. The novel also focuses on a number of other significant themes: the plight of a rebel who is a loner, the relationship between different religions, the situation of women in a conserva-

tive society, the importance of education and the question of identity.”

Edited by Bulbul Ahmed, Buddhist Heritage of Bangladesh is quite a voluminous collection of essays on the genesis and spread of Buddhism in Bangladesh and of numerous rare photographs of Buddhist archaeological sites, temples, plaques, paintings, coins and sculptures. In his foreword, Enamul haque, chairman of The Internation Centre for Study of Bengal Art, writes, “This anthology of seventeen essays presents various aspects of Buddhist heritage of Bangladesh. The authors contributed their chapters on topics assigned by the Editor as part of a

project on presenting Bangladesh’s rich Buddhist past to the world.”

In his editorial, Bulbul Ahmed says, “Arcaeological evidences and pilgrim accounts suggest that Buddhism created a rich culture and civilization in ancient Bangladesh from the 5th to 12th centuries AD.” It covers not only all the religious, cultural and literary legacies of Buddhism but also the recent archaeological discoveries including those at Wari-Bateshwar in Narshingdi that have uncovered new materials of Buddhist heritage and enriched our understanding of our own past.

Both the books stand out for their impeccable, glazy cover design and sturdy binding. l

The novel is perhaps his most detailed account of poverty in his prose writings as well as of a political activist. The novel also focuses on a number of other significant themes: the plight of a rebel who is a loner, the relationship between different religions, the situation of women in a conservative society, the importance of education and the question of identity