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Thursday, March 13, 2008

The prisoner of Dhaka

This illegal incarceration should be a global cause celebre, but instead there is a shameful silence JOHN PILGER

[In an article for the Guardian, John Pilger describes the extraordinary life of Moudud Ahmed, who in 1971 led him into liberated East Pakistan, later Bangladesh. Now a political prisoner of the military dictatorship in Dhaka, Moudud Ahmed is seriously ill in a country which, says his wife Hasna, "is itself a prison"]

THERE IS a decent, brave man sitting in a dungeon in a country where the British empire began - a country of poets, singers, artists, free thinkers and petty tyrants. I have known him since a moonless night in 1971 when he led me clandestinely into what was then East Pakistan and is now Bangladesh, past villages the Pakistani army had raped and razed. His name is Moudud Ahmed and he was then a young lawyer who had defended the Bengali independence leader Sheikh Mujibur Rahman.

"Why have you come when even crows are afraid to fly over our house," said Begum Mujib, the sheikh's wife. This was typical of Moudud, whose tumultuous life carries more than a hint of Tom Paine.

As a schoolboy, Moudud wet his shirt with the blood of a young man killed demonstrating against the imposition of "Urdu and only Urdu" as the official language of Bangla-speaking East Pakistan. When the British attacked Egypt in 1956, he tried to haul down the union flag at the British consulate in Dhaka, and was bayoneted by police: a wound he still suffers.

When Bangladesh - free Bengal - was declared in 1971, Moudud brought a rally to its feet when he held up the front page of the Daily Mirror, which carried my report beneath the headline, BIRTH OF A NATION. "We are alive, but we are not yet free," he said, prophetically.

Once in power, Sheikh Mujib turned on his own democrats and held show trials at which Moudud was their indefatigable defender until he himself was arrested.

Assassination, coup and counter coup eventually led to a parliamentary period headed by Ziaur-Rahman, a liberation general with whom Moudud agreed to serve as deputy prime minister on condition Zia resigned from the army. Together they formed a grassroots party, but when Moudud insisted that it must be democratic, he was sacked.

Whenever he came to London he would phone those of us who had reported the liberation of Bangladesh and we would meet for a curry. His pinstriped suit and inns-of-court manner belied his own enduring struggle and that of his homeland: recurring floods and the conflict between feudalists and democrats and, later, fundamentalists.

"I am the prime minister now," he once said, as if we had not heard. Outspoken about his people's "right to social and economic justice", especially women, he was duly arrested again, then won his parliamentary seat from prison.

On April 12 last year, late at night, 25 soldiers smashed into Moudud's house in Dhaka. They had no warrant. They stripped his home and "rendered" him, blindfolded, to a place known only as "the black hole". There, he was interrogated and tortured and forced to sign a confession. He was finally charged with the possession of alcohol - a few bottles of wine and cans of beer had been found. The supreme court declared his prosecution and detention illegal. This was ignored by the government, which calls itself a "caretaker" administration, but is a front for a military dictatorship.

Moudud is suffering from a pituitary tumour and has been denied medication for six months. He is terribly ill, says his wife, the poet Hasna Jasimuddin Moudud. "Thousands of people have been detained for being activists, or just supporters," she says. "The country is a prison, and the world must know."

There are striking similarities between Moudud's case and that of the Malaysian opposition leader, Anwar Ibrahim, who this week all but overturned the old, autocratic regime. Both were framed in order to silence them. The difference is that Anwar Ibrahim's case became an international cause celebre, whereas there is only silence for Moudud Ahmed, locked in his cell, ill, without charge or trial.

In the next few days, Dr Fakhruddin Ahmed, the "chief adviser" to the caretaker government - in effect, the head of Bangladesh's government - will visit London. He is said to have a meeting arranged at 10 Downing Street. I and others have written to Dr Fakhruddin, asking him to comply with the supreme court's ruling and to release Moudud. He has not replied. If Gordon Brown's recent pronouncements on liberty have a shred of meaning, it is the question he must ask. #

John Pilger is British filmmaker and journalist who covered war, revolution and conflict. For his work and life see: www.johnpilger.com

First published in The Guardian, London, March 12 2008

1 comment:

  1. It is the ordinary citizens of Bangladesh who need a voice

    On the 37th anniversary of its independence, Bangladesh faces a human rights crisis, says Asif Saleh

    John Pilger mounts an impassioned and spirited defence of the Bangladeshi politician Moudud Ahmed (The prisoner of Dhaka, March 12). "There is a decent, brave man sitting in a dungeon in a country where the British empire began," Pilger says. "I have known him since a moonless night in 1971." Pilger does his reputation an immense disservice with his erroneous and exaggerated claims on behalf of Ahmed, by ignoring the real issues at hand in favour of using his influence to defend an old friend.

    On the 37th anniversary of its independence, Bangladesh faces a human rights crisis. Our fledgling democracy - hard won in 1971, and resurrected again in 1991 after years of military rule - is in suspension. Thousands of ordinary citizens have been rounded up and imprisoned without cause, without due process, and with no hope of release. It is true that Ahmed is one of those people. He was arrested by the security forces and is now in jail as a VIP prisoner.

    Pilger says that Ahmed's "tumultuous life carries more than a hint of Tom Paine". But the irony here is that one of the men responsible for this state of affairs is Ahmed himself, a man who has benefited from every regime to have taken power in Bangladesh, a man who has been a minister under every party and almost every government, whether democratic or dictatorial.

    His record on human rights is evident from the fact that he had no hesitation in supporting the 2003 indemnity ordinance which absolved the security forces from prosecution for extra-judicial killings perpetrated in 2002-03. Ahmed detected no violation of human rights when people were killed by law enforcement agencies in "crossfire" between 2004 and 2006; he looked away when religious extremists killed and tortured villagers in North Bengal during that same period. As minister of law, he supported his government's decision, in 2004, to undermine the independence of the supreme court by appointing 19 judges on the basis of their partisan loyalty, even though he publicly acknowledged that he did not know at least six of them, who had never been known to practise in the high court.

    To project Ahmed as a worthy "cause celebre" is to demean all those people of conscience who have fought for justice and human rights and suffered imprisonment, as well as the ordinary citizens of Bangladesh who continue to face lamentable conditions which are a legacy of past corruption and malgovernance.

    Ahmed cries for justice now that his own life is at stake. He calls in favours, calls on old friends, and condemns the legal and political system that has him languishing in jail. Where was his conscience when he was law minister? Where was his acute feeling for his country when democracy shrivelled on his watch?

    By all means, Mr Pilger, draw attention to injustice in Bangladesh, but try to do so more for those who have no voice, rather than for the corrupt and powerful who have escaped justice for decades. And please bring your investigation skills to bear on the state of the justice system in Bangladesh and some of those who have caused it to become what it is, including your friend Moudud Ahmed.

    [This article appeared in the Guardian on Thursday April 03 2008 on p33 of the Leaders & reply section]

    · Asif Saleh is executive director of Drishtipat, a human rights organisation focusing on Bangladesh asifs@drishtipat.org

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