Jackdaws
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In Pakistan, the war of 1971 is still a memory charged with intense remorse. Ours is a country struggling for ideological definitions, and one consequence of this has been to ignore or try to bury the traumatic war that recapped the horrific violence of the Partition. Only this time it was not carried out by a foreign enemy but by our own military, and was even more extreme in nature. However, none of those implicated in war crimes have been put on trial despite the attempts of Bangladeshi governments.
The worst victims of this war were local Bengali women, predominantly those in the rural belts who suffered brutal violence. Sexual crimes are frequently quoted in the context of the 1971 war. These women were called birangona the brave ones by Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, who pleaded their re-assimilation into society by exalting them as war heroes and attempting to erase the shame of their dishonor. These women, many of whom are still endeavoring to come to terms with their past, are surviving in a society that has long ostracized them and tried to erase their part (and not their shame) in the painful birth of a nation.
The Human Rights Commission of Pakistan (HRCP) recently commemorated these women by showing two documentary films, War Crimes 71 by Shahriar Kabir and Women and War by Tarique and Catherine Masud at its auditorium in Lahore.
In Shahriar Kabirs War Crimes 71 we go on a journey with three Bengali students who believe they need to know more about their history a dilemma they share with their Pakistani counterparts whose knowledge of national history is curtailed by a narrow and prejudice-filled curriculum. The students visit politicians, civil society representatives, former bureaucrats and activists, all of whom enlighten them about the brutalities carried out in 1971 by the Pakistani soldiers and their razakar collaborators. The documentarys most intense feature was the series of eyewitness accounts by people who had first-hand experience of the war. Constantly present in the documentary was an urge to bring to book the people who were named in the infamous (and seriously under-appreciated) Hamoodur Rehman Commission Report, which detailed the brutalities committed by the Pakistan Army and its henchmen in what was then East Pakistan.
War of 71 mainly focuses on the perpetrators and details the ways in which their crimes were carried out. In doing so it lays bare the things we in Pakistan (and they in Bangladesh) have shied away from for the past four decades. The victims, however, cannot forget: in the film they call for a collective trial of Jamat e Islami leaders and Army generals, even those who are now dead. The film also tries to provide a panoramic view by going to people from different segments of society. But what it omits from its narrative is the testimony of those it accuses, and this is a major limitation, for the war criminals, while looming large in the story, are conspicuous by their absence. The only significant person in this regard is Indira Gandhi, whose BBC interviews clips are shown.
The issue of impunity ought to have a special resonance for present-day Pakistani viewers, keeping in mind the secretive and largely unaccountable war on terror that is being waged on this countrys people. Professor Salima Hashmi, Dean of Beaconhouse University, mediated the open discussion that followed the screening and pointed out that facts were still being kept from the general public. She talked about a whole generation being wiped away in a genocide for which, unsurprisingly, no one was held accountable. She also claimed to believe that the enmity felt by an average Bengali for Pakistan has died down with time.
The second film at the screening was Women and War. As the title suggests, it focused in particular on the suffering of Bengali women and did not shy away from examining rapes and murders. Even after a long times, these afflicted women continued to alienate themselves from Bangladeshi society because what they represent is something that society refuses to accept. (One hopes the irony, tragedy and outrage of this is not lost on any viewer, whatever her nationality.) A peasant woman, for example, describes in the film her attempts to escape the people who tried to rape her. She sits in the middle of the fields, in the middle of the place where that life-altering trauma occurred, but she believes she has moved on. I keep asking myself if anything was my fault. I fled my fathers home because I thought I would be safe at my fathers place but I didnt know what was to come. I have never told anyone what really happened to me because it will haunt me for the rest of my life. So I decided not to discuss with anyone and I will not ever do that.
After the screening, Ahmed, a member of the audience, said: An apology would be a good beginning to mend the relationship between the two countries. Not an apology from a private society but at the state level. The problem is we have never tried anything of the sort because I think our politicians dont have the courage to do that. Bengalis at least repeatedly have raised the issue at government level.
Theater veteran and activist Madeeha Gohar, also present in the audience, said the Pakistani state is in denial. The fact that the violence was mechanically internalized and controlled is something we are not willing to accept. We deny things we dont want to hear and the next thing is blaming the foreign element. We are good at conspiracy theories and if nothing else, we have India to blame. We look for scapegoats. To add to that was a state media that kept important information from the general public. Gohar also criticized the local media for being no better than the state-owned media of 50 years ago. She claimed that no channel in the country would be willing to show these documentaries despite the grand claims of a free media.
We were given chances to see, but we refused to see the reality, pointed out activist Nighat Saeed Khan. As always we were walked into the national security debate to silent everyone. People who wanted to speak against it were made to think that theyll be endangering Islam if they spoke against the whole thing.
The worst victims of this war were local Bengali women, predominantly those in the rural belts who suffered brutal violence. Sexual crimes are frequently quoted in the context of the 1971 war. These women were called birangona the brave ones by Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, who pleaded their re-assimilation into society by exalting them as war heroes and attempting to erase the shame of their dishonor. These women, many of whom are still endeavoring to come to terms with their past, are surviving in a society that has long ostracized them and tried to erase their part (and not their shame) in the painful birth of a nation.
The Human Rights Commission of Pakistan (HRCP) recently commemorated these women by showing two documentary films, War Crimes 71 by Shahriar Kabir and Women and War by Tarique and Catherine Masud at its auditorium in Lahore.
In Shahriar Kabirs War Crimes 71 we go on a journey with three Bengali students who believe they need to know more about their history a dilemma they share with their Pakistani counterparts whose knowledge of national history is curtailed by a narrow and prejudice-filled curriculum. The students visit politicians, civil society representatives, former bureaucrats and activists, all of whom enlighten them about the brutalities carried out in 1971 by the Pakistani soldiers and their razakar collaborators. The documentarys most intense feature was the series of eyewitness accounts by people who had first-hand experience of the war. Constantly present in the documentary was an urge to bring to book the people who were named in the infamous (and seriously under-appreciated) Hamoodur Rehman Commission Report, which detailed the brutalities committed by the Pakistan Army and its henchmen in what was then East Pakistan.
War of 71 mainly focuses on the perpetrators and details the ways in which their crimes were carried out. In doing so it lays bare the things we in Pakistan (and they in Bangladesh) have shied away from for the past four decades. The victims, however, cannot forget: in the film they call for a collective trial of Jamat e Islami leaders and Army generals, even those who are now dead. The film also tries to provide a panoramic view by going to people from different segments of society. But what it omits from its narrative is the testimony of those it accuses, and this is a major limitation, for the war criminals, while looming large in the story, are conspicuous by their absence. The only significant person in this regard is Indira Gandhi, whose BBC interviews clips are shown.
The issue of impunity ought to have a special resonance for present-day Pakistani viewers, keeping in mind the secretive and largely unaccountable war on terror that is being waged on this countrys people. Professor Salima Hashmi, Dean of Beaconhouse University, mediated the open discussion that followed the screening and pointed out that facts were still being kept from the general public. She talked about a whole generation being wiped away in a genocide for which, unsurprisingly, no one was held accountable. She also claimed to believe that the enmity felt by an average Bengali for Pakistan has died down with time.
The second film at the screening was Women and War. As the title suggests, it focused in particular on the suffering of Bengali women and did not shy away from examining rapes and murders. Even after a long times, these afflicted women continued to alienate themselves from Bangladeshi society because what they represent is something that society refuses to accept. (One hopes the irony, tragedy and outrage of this is not lost on any viewer, whatever her nationality.) A peasant woman, for example, describes in the film her attempts to escape the people who tried to rape her. She sits in the middle of the fields, in the middle of the place where that life-altering trauma occurred, but she believes she has moved on. I keep asking myself if anything was my fault. I fled my fathers home because I thought I would be safe at my fathers place but I didnt know what was to come. I have never told anyone what really happened to me because it will haunt me for the rest of my life. So I decided not to discuss with anyone and I will not ever do that.
After the screening, Ahmed, a member of the audience, said: An apology would be a good beginning to mend the relationship between the two countries. Not an apology from a private society but at the state level. The problem is we have never tried anything of the sort because I think our politicians dont have the courage to do that. Bengalis at least repeatedly have raised the issue at government level.
Theater veteran and activist Madeeha Gohar, also present in the audience, said the Pakistani state is in denial. The fact that the violence was mechanically internalized and controlled is something we are not willing to accept. We deny things we dont want to hear and the next thing is blaming the foreign element. We are good at conspiracy theories and if nothing else, we have India to blame. We look for scapegoats. To add to that was a state media that kept important information from the general public. Gohar also criticized the local media for being no better than the state-owned media of 50 years ago. She claimed that no channel in the country would be willing to show these documentaries despite the grand claims of a free media.
We were given chances to see, but we refused to see the reality, pointed out activist Nighat Saeed Khan. As always we were walked into the national security debate to silent everyone. People who wanted to speak against it were made to think that theyll be endangering Islam if they spoke against the whole thing.
