A law to protect only one Bangladeshi family

Rater Zonaki, Human Rights Defender, Bangladesh

The government of Bangladesh has granted lifetime blanket security cover to family members of the country’s founding father, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, which includes his daughter Sheikh Hasina, the current prime minister.

Abul Kalam Azad, the press secretary of Hasina told the media that the cabinet had approved in principle the proposed Father of the Nation’s Family Members’ Security Act 2009 in its weekly meeting on 6 July 2009. The act is effective from the same date as the cabinet’s approval, although the parliament is only expected to pass it sometime later.

Details of the act were not immediately made public, but there was speculation that it could be a repeat of the Father of the Nation’s Family Security Act 2001, which Hasina’s previous government had passed just 23 days before stepping down on completion of its tenure, and which was scrapped by the Bangladesh Nationalist Party that came to power after it.

The 2001 Act had sanctioned the official house of the country’s prime minister to Hasina in a symbolic one-taka (about 1 US cent) price, and another house to her sister Rehana at the Dhanmondi residential area in Dhaka, besides a basket of perks and privileges at the expense of the state.

The new act has similar provisions to allot well-protected safe houses and other facilities, but the government has cited security as the main reason for drafting it. According to Azad, after the brutal assassination of Rahman and his family members in 1975, which Hasina and her sister Rehana escaped as they were in West Germany at the time, a vested group has been conspiring to kill surviving family members, especially Hasina. Azad said the grenade attack on Hasina in 2004 was proof that plotters were attempting to kill her.

Should there be a special law to protect only one family in a country, considering its political identity? Why should other families in a population of 150 million be less protected? Does article 27 of the constitution, which enshrines people’s fundamental rights to be equally treated, allow the government to frame an act like this? Can any law protect anyone from the risk of death? If so, why are Bangladeshis dying in the custody of law-enforcement agencies and security forces, which are officially liable to protect everybody?

The new act leaves more questions than answers. Will the children of Hasina and Rehana, who hold foreign residencies and some who are married to foreign nationals, be eligible for state security cover when living abroad? If so, will a contingent of Bangladesh’s Special Security Forces permanently stay abroad to protect them? How much expenditure will be incurred? Why should Bangladesh, a nation where 44 million people still live below the poverty line, spend huge sums of money and resources on one family?

While politicians of the ruling Awami League and its allies claim Rahman as the “Father of the Nation”, their opponents disagree. Critics have questioned Rahman’s political decisions while Muslim religious leaders and politicians have criticized his adoption of state secularism. Many also believe that he alienated some segments of nationalists and the military, which feared that Bangladesh would come to depend on India for aid and other regional and internal affairs. But such debates rage mainly for the political gains of groups involved.

So, if Rahman is not accepted as the Father of the Nation, will the act survive, as the premise hinges on him being the founder of the nation and therefore his family deserves state benefits? Critics of the new act also point out that if Rahman is accepted as the nation’s founding father, then the entire population is his family and deserve the benefits that the act promises, as he is the father of the nation and not just a father to his two daughters, who stand to benefit from the new act.

Last but not the least, if the government claims that the act is effective solely from the date when the cabinet approved it, then what role does parliament in a democracy have? How can a proposed bill, which is not an ordinance and not having completed its legislatorial process be termed an act and come into effect?

The whole issue is yet another farce where the government has lost its sense of legality and fair play. What is the role of civil society after this action? Will it remain silent in fear or demand that the act be scrapped?

Hypocritical mourning

The husband of Bangladeshi Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina, Dr MA Wazed Miah, passed away on 9 May 2009 at the age of 67. Wazed Miah, whose reputation as an eminent nuclear scientist went beyond his family’s political spectrum, had been suffering from heart problems, diabetes and other ailments for the last few months.

The death of a loved one is always sad for family members, relatives and friends. Wazed Miah surely had a large number of well-wishers at home and abroad to mourn his death. Many Bangladeshis as well as foreigners expressed their sorrow and condolences after learning of his death.

However, it is not clear how many among those who sent condolences in fact had motives other than the sense of great loss felt by the family.

In the weeks after Wazed Miah’s death, a segment of the country’s politicians, including top policymakers, participated in mourning rituals almost every day. Ministers, parliamentarians, senior government officials and public servants began mourning in public under the banners of various sociopolitical institutions.

It appears that when the husband of the most powerful person in government dies it creates an opportunity for political parties to compete in displaying their shock and grief. Many leaders hope to get their names in the prime minister’s good book by arranging “mourning” activities across the country.

In the midst of this political mourning, Cyclone Aila struck the coastal and southwestern parts of Bangladesh. At least 150 people died as high waves surged onshore from the Bay of Bengal, and the homes of tens of thousands of people were destroyed.

Thousands of people made homeless after the cyclone hit on May 25 were left without food or drinking water, as corruption competed with relief work in the affected areas. Only victims living in easily accessible places got small quantities of relief on an irregular basis.

The people who lost loved ones in the cyclone had no chance to mourn their deaths. They are among many others in Bangladesh who have been unable to properly mourn deceased relatives.

These include victims of extrajudicial killings by state law-enforcement agencies. When the Rapid Action Battalion, the police and the armed forces kill people, they have only to label them “criminals”, even though they have died without trial for their so-called crimes.

In such cases, law enforcers routinely intimidate family members of those who are killed, warning them not to tell anyone, especially human rights defenders and journalists, about what has happened.

Still, the ruling political party, which cannot create a stable society in which ordinary citizens can mourn their dead, remains busy mourning the death of the prime minister’s husband. This marathon mourning by political leaders is nothing but hypocrisy; it contributes nothing to a nation and people that have so many urgent needs.

What Bangladeshis really have to mourn is the death of rule of law in their country.

If leading politicians are not inclined to share in this mourning, they have two options. They can think about how to bury legal institutions, so that there is no question of legality. Once they have established unhindered lawlessness, the citizens will no longer expect lawful actions in the country.

The other choice is for the government to think about reforming the rule-of-law institutions into genuine, functioning bodies that the people can trust. This has long been an urgent task for the nation.

Bangladesh needs an independent judiciary

Bangladesh’s executive branch has a long history of controlling the country’s judiciary. Although the subordinate judiciary was formally separated from the executive in November 2007, the leaders’ habit of abusing authority in judicial matters still exists.

On 27 July 2009, members of the Bangladesh Judicial Service Association, a professional organization of judicial officers, went to the Bangladesh Secretariat, led by the association’s president, Abdul Gafur, a judge in Dhaka district, and its secretary general, Shajahan Shaju, a judge for women’s and children’s issues in Gazipur district.

The leaders met Minister for Law, Justice and Parliamentary Affairs Shafique Ahmed to raise their objections to a proposed separation of the ministry into two parts — one for legislative and parliamentary affairs and another for law and justice affairs. They feared that the bureaucrats’ intention was to maintain authority over the judiciary.

The law minister acknowledged to the media that judicial officers had met him to share their views regarding the proposed division of his ministry. However, other bureaucrats accused the judges of unauthorized entry to the country’s administrative headquarters and neglecting their judicial duties without prior permission.

At the same time, around 100 judges from various jurisdictions, members of the Bangladesh Judicial Service Association, held a demonstration at the secretariat. During the course of the demonstration, an official from the Ministry of Home Affairs directed armed police to conduct body searches of the judges — a great insult to them.

In the following days, debates raged in the media and in the judiciary regarding issues related to the division of the law ministry and the judges’ demonstration.

On July 30 the government announced that the president had ordered judges Abdul Gafur and Shajahan Shaju, who had led the delegation to the secretariat, to retire for “violating public service rules”. This despite the fact that judiciary is under the Supreme Court, not the executive branch of the government.

Jurists said the government’s decision was in violation of article 116 of the constitution, which states that the president should consult the Supreme Court concerning disciplinary action against judicial officers. Local media published reports quoting the registrar of the Supreme Court saying that the government did not consult the court in the matter.

When judges decided to challenge the government’s action, on August 3 the government changed its position and withdrew its notification of “forced retirement” imposed on the two judges, claiming it had been a “procedural mistake”.

Bangladeshis have welcomed the latest decision. Still, many are surprised that the government could so easily violate the constitution and then claim it to be a “procedural mistake”.

People want to know who was behind this mistake and whether or not they will be held accountable for it. They are concerned that there may be repetitions of such “procedural mistakes”.

Through this incident, people have clearly understood the interference by the executive branch in judicial matters and the control wielded over the entire judiciary including, at least indirectly, the Supreme Court.

Politically motivated and non-transparent appointments to the executive body have resulted in continued interference in the judiciary, despite the knowledge that the judiciary is independent of the executive in a democratic system.

Bangladesh’s executive branch is notorious for wielding authority over the judiciary in different ways. For example, the ruling Awami League–which had pledged to establish rule of law in the country during its December 2008 election campaign–amended the criminal code so it could authorize its administrative officers to take cognizance of criminal cases whenever the government deemed fit.

Deputy commissioners, who head public administration at the district level, have repeatedly demanded that their former judicial powers be reinstated. To strengthen their position they have argued that the law-and-order situation in the country is deteriorating since the separation of the judiciary from the executive.

Was Bangladesh a heaven in terms of law and order when the deputy commissioners had complete judicial authority? In many nations judicial officers, rather than bureaucrats, successfully manage the affairs of the judiciary. Why should the same not prevail in Bangladesh?

There should be open public discussion regarding these issues. The government and civil society should rethink why judges have to raise their demands through demonstrations.

Military must not be above the law

Almost daily, Bangladesh’s media expose stories of custodial torture. Among the many reports are stories of the brutal treatment of those arrested by the military during the 2007-08 state of emergency, which included political leaders, former members of the cabinet and parliament, as well as industrialists and business icons.

These “high profile” victims have described how they were arrested and the methods and duration of the torture they endured under various circumstances. Other stories describe how detainees were blackmailed and humiliated, and how officers of the armed forces extorted huge sums of money from them.

A former parliamentarian told how he was blindfolded when army officers arrested him and held incommunicado in a soundproof cell, which he assumed to be at the army garrison where dozens of specialized torture cells have been maintained for years. First medical teams did a thorough check-up of the detained persons, he said. After they were examined and their medical histories recorded, death certificates were prepared in advance, with physicians’ signatures and comments, to elude suspicions of torture.

The torture lasted for days, and victims were moved from one cell to another depending on the choice of the perpetrators and their methods. Imaginary stories of private bank accounts and wealth accumulated through corrupt means were used to intimidate and blackmail the detainees. Most victims were forced to pay huge sums of money to escape the torture.

Media reports–quoting a ruling-party parliamentarian who was a victim and other “witnesses”–allege that some of those charged with corruption were tried in a Special Anti-Corruption Tribunal controlled by officers of the Bangladesh Army. The officers and the Anti-Corruption Commission reportedly conducted rehearsals of false depositions by arranging false witnesses to the corruption cases.

These so-called witnesses said they were intimidated and forced to testify before the court. There are allegations of brutal torture of those witnesses who were reluctant to testify. In addition, they said, the officers dictated the judgments in many cases.

There have been several such allegations made by lawmakers in parliament as well as on television and in national newspapers. They require credible investigation and prosecution.

For the past seven months, people have been demanding an independent and capable commission to probe abuses by the armed forces. But the government of Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina has remained silent on this issue. This has further damaged the country’s already impaired rule of law.

Unfortunately, the government sent a direct message to the people when it legislated the National Human Rights Commission Act 2009, which placed the armed forces beyond the purview of the rights body. The commission’s authority is restricted so that it cannot investigate allegations of human rights abuses committed by the armed forces. In other words, the government has put the armed forces beyond the reach of the law.

The Constitution of Bangladesh states that no one has the authority to grant immunity from prosecution for punishable crimes. Article 31 of the Constitution clearly declares:

“To enjoy the protection of the law, and to be treated in accordance with law, and only in accordance with law, is the inalienable right of every citizen, wherever he may be, and of every other person for the time being within Bangladesh, and in particular no action detrimental to the life, liberty, body, reputation or property of any person shall be taken except in accordance with law.”

The country’s highest offices, including the presidency, are bound by the Constitution and there is a legal framework that protects the supremacy of the law. Then how can the government put perpetrators of torture like the army beyond the law?

The solution to this is crystal clear. The government must amend the National Human Rights Commission Act 2009 by allowing the rights body to investigate and take action against any person or institution — including the armed forces — that abuses human rights. Also, it must form a competent commission to investigate crimes committed by the armed forces during the state of emergency and similar crackdowns in the past.

Bangladesh must criminalize torture

Torture by the police and security forces is part of life in Bangladesh. This may be shocking to a citizen of a country where the rule of law functions properly, but it is not surprising to Bangladeshis.

People in Bangladesh have experienced torture for decades. Many think it is practically unavoidable, unchallengeable and legally unpreventable, due to the impunity enjoyed by perpetrators.

The prevailing atmosphere of torture and denial of justice to victims is demoralizing to many rights groups and those who wish to voice their concerns. But Odhikar, a Dhaka-based human rights organization, in cooperation with the Copenhagen-based Rehabilitation and Research Center for Torture Victims, organized a “Token Tribunal against Torture” in June 2009 to highlight the issue in a different way.

The groups told the stories of five victims of torture that included a human rights defender, a journalist, a teacher, a student and a former public representative of a local government institution and wife of a victim who was tortured to death by members of the Bangladesh Army, which brought tears to the eyes of the audience.

SM Aktar Faruk Mintu, chairman of the Monoharpur Union Council in Jessore district told the audience his story:

“I was called in to a particular place and taken somewhere else [an army camp]. A soldier beat me with a stick for about six minutes, locked me in the room and left. Another person came. I asked, ‘What is my offence?’ He kicked my testicles with his boot. I was unable to breathe and was bleeding from my groin.

“He stripped off my pants, hung me upside down and kicked me with his boot and beat me with a stick. Again, he continued to beat me on the foot, under the knee and on the thigh. Four persons stood on my legs. Then somebody hit me on the head with something. I sprang in the air and my head hit the roof. Then I can remember nothing.

“When I regained consciousness, I saw they were plucking the nails off my toes. They were pressing on the nails of my hands. I again fell unconscious. When I regained consciousness, they started pouring hot water into my nostrils with pipes and on my back, which started burning. I again fell unconscious.

“When I cried out of pain the soldiers stitched my lips with a needle, which is normally used for stitching shoes. Each of these brutal tortures continued for about two hours, with short intervals. They were insisting that I surrender arms, which I did not have and I continuously denied having. They discussed among themselves to kill me with a gunshot, but the person who was assigned to kill me disagreed to do so.”

That was a small part of a long story of torture in the army camp at Shankarpur in the Jessore district. The army arrested Mintu on 6 June 2007 at around 6pm and a colonel in the Bangladesh Army led soldiers to torture him.

During the state of emergency in the past two years, around 500,000 people who were arrested and detained experienced many types of torture. Many more that were not arrested or detained were beaten on the streets by the army, paramilitary forces and the police.

The police and other paramilitary forces like the Rapid Action Battalion use torture as a tool of investigation against criminal suspects. They also illegally arrest innocent people and torture them in detention to extract money.

A simple calculation provides a scary scenario of torture in Bangladesh. The country has 629 police stations. If one person is tortured each day in each police station, then 229,585 persons are being victimized in a year. In reality, however, the number of torture victims is many times more than this figure.

Unfortunately, in a country where torture is endemic, there is no scope for even a minimum legal remedy for victims. Instead, perpetrators have the power to abuse as much as they wish and enjoy impunity from the authorities. Whichever political party takes power patronizes torture by rewarding perpetrators and providing impunity despite the fact that the same political party was vocal against the use of torture while in opposition.

For example, former Prime Minister Khaleda Zia, who is now the leader of the opposition in Parliament, issued a statement on the occasion of the 2009 International Day in Support of Victims of Torture, demanding investigations into incidents of torture committed under the emergency government. But when she was prime minister, Zia deployed armed forces to crack down on civilians in the name of Operation Clean Heart in 2002 and at the end of the operation legislated the Joint Drive Indemnity Act 2003. In order to ensure impunity to the perpetrators her government hurriedly imposed the same law as an ordinance, as the parliament was not in session. Sheikh Hasina, who was then leader of the opposition, protested and criticized Zia’s government.

Now Sheikh Hasina, the current prime minister, did not consent to a draft bill to criminalize torture and custodial death when Saber Hossain Chowdhury, a parliamentarian belonging to her party, requested her to do so.

There is no difference between Zia and Hasina–both have repeatedly failed to prove their commitment to end torture. Both have protested against it when they were in the opposition, and allowed it when in power.

Political parties and policymakers should realize that Bangladesh has an industry of torture that destroys people’s faith in the state machinery, especially institutions related to the criminal justice system that should be maintaining the rule of law.

Why can’t laws be implemented to criminalize torture? There should be unanimous consensus on whether torture should be criminalized or whether it should continue unabated. After all, the practice of torture can affect anyone not lucky enough to control the perpetrators.

Endemic “heart attacks”

“Heart attack” has become a common term in Bangladesh in recent years. It is not because the country’s physicians have made remarkable progress in controlling deaths due to heart attacks. On the contrary, it is because the law-enforcement agencies, armed forces and other paramilitary forces have brought to public attention increasing numbers of them.

Many of these occur while people are in the custody of police or security forces. Anyone who has a heart is in danger of a “heart attack” at the hands of these heartless beings.

To take one such incident, during June three policemen in the Dimla subdistrict of Nilphamari led by Assistant Sub-Inspector Harun-or-Rashid, who was in plain clothes, arrived at the house of Abdul Hamid in Goyabari village. The police officer accused Abdul Hamid of selling marijuana, which he strongly denied.

Harun demanded Hamid give 5000 taka (US). Hamid refused to pay, insisting he was not a drug dealer. The police raided his house, though they had no search warrant. They found nothing, yet continued to insist that Hamid pay the money.

When he refused to pay the bribe, the police knocked him to the floor and repeatedly kicked his chest. Hearing his cries, relatives came running to the scene, but by the time they arrived he was already dead. Neighbors caught Harun, the assistant sub-inspector, but the other policemen managed to escape.

The officer-in-charge of the Dimla police station, Inspector Shawkat Hossain, termed Hamid’s death a “heart attack”. The inspector’s claim makes the police synonymous with Azrael, the angel whose arrival may cause death.

The district superintendent of police declared that Harun was suspended from duty and withdrawn from the Dimla police station. After the brother to the deceased filed a murder case with the Dimla police, Harun was reportedly arrested and put in jail.

The arrest of a police officer for torturing a person to death is a very rare occurrence in Bangladesh, but not because such deaths are rare; rather, it is because there is no mechanism to handle complaints of custodial torture and death. Ironically, cases against police officers typically end with an investigation report fabricated by another police officer. In this manner justice is denied to the victim, who may also face intimidation and threats from the police if he pursues the case.

The term “heart attack” was an invention by the armed forces during a crackdown on crime called “Operation Clean Heart” that ran from 16 October 2002 to 9 January 2003. Around 58 deaths in military custody were then termed “heart attacks”.

Recently, the deaths of around 25 soldiers of the Bangladesh Rifles, a paramilitary force that guards the county’s borders, were termed “heart attacks”. The deaths occurred during a mutiny within the group’s headquarters at Dhaka in late February. All of the guards reportedly died in the custody of either the police or the army, which lost about 60 officers in the mutiny or at the hands of the Rapid Action Battalion.

Most of the dead bodies showed multiple signs of injury, according to the magistrates’ reports submitted after inquests were conducted. However, people were told the deaths were “heart attacks”, even though no competent medical doctor verified this.

Will there be any redress for those who suffered massive heart attacks? Will there eventually be treatment, or a method to prevent this dread disease? These questions come to the government of the Bangladesh Awami League, which was elected for its promises to bring change in Bangladesh.

Kamruzzaman’s story, Bangladesh’s story

This is a story as told by Kamruzzaman, who is in the public service, to the media. His son Rakibuzzaman Rakib had been imprisoned for 10 years for possessing an explosive substance. The police allegedly implicated him in four more cases while he was already in detention. However, the court granted him bail five years ago.

Hearing rumors that the Rapid Action Battalion might kill Rakib as soon as he was released from prison, Kamruzzaman decided not to allow his son to appear in public, fearing his death.

On 10 May 2009, Rakib’s father made arrangements to send the court’s bail order to the prison authorities. However, the jail authorities did not release Rakib on that date. Hoping that his son would be released the following day, Kamruzzaman waited outside Dhaka Central Jail’s gate the next morning.

Kamruzzaman saw two white minibuses arrive at the prison. Seven plainclothes policemen with walky-talky radios and firearms stepped out of the vehicles. Three went inside.

About an hour later, Kamruzzaman saw the jailor Bazlur Rashid and a deputy jailor coming out with the three men who had entered the prison earlier. They were carrying Rakib and holding his hands and legs. At the gate, when Rakib saw his father he cried for help. The men put Rakib in a car and left the place. The armed men prevented Kamruzzaman from getting close to his son. Later, Kamruzzaman chased them in vain and returned home fearing for his son’s condition.

That day Kamruzzaman and Rakib’s wife Nira visited several police stations, including the offices of the Rapid Action Battalion, to find their son. Every law-enforcement officer they met denied any connection to the incident or any knowledge of Rakib’s whereabouts. When Nira wanted to lodge a complaint with the duty officer of the Lalbagh police station, under whose jurisdiction the Dhaka Central Jail is situated, she was denied the right to do so. Rather, the police asked her, “Who knows the whereabouts of your husband and who took him where?”

The next morning Rakib’s dead body was found on a Dhaka street, with bullet wounds. Forensic medical experts found a bullet in his body, presumably from a small firearm, while conducting an autopsy.

The father of the deceased told the media and rights groups that all relevant offices of the law-enforcement agencies had denied involvement in his son’s murder. No investigation or arrests have taken place.

This incident raises the question as to who has access to prisons, besides state agencies? Is the Dhaka Central Jail alienated from Bangladesh or beyond the jurisdiction of the government? If nobody is responsible for such incidents what is the necessity of spending taxpayers’ money on so-called government institutions?

The police and other law-enforcement agencies, public officials and politicians have largely destroyed the concept of legality, which exists only in academic form. And silence from the judges is only aiding the ongoing “campaign” to bury the sense of legality in Bangladesh.

Can professionals, especially judges, lawyers and civil society members, raise their voices and act tirelessly until justice is ensured? Will there ever be resurrection of their consciences?

Politics of denial cannot fight militancy

Bangladesh’s former prime minister and current opposition leader, Khaleda Zia, reportedly said at a public meeting in April that there is no militancy in the country now, since all militants were arrested and brought to trial during her party’s rule from 2001 to 2006.

Like a typical Bangladeshi politician, Zia made the comment while criticizing her political opponents in the ruling party, the Bangladesh Awami League, which is apprehensive of militant attacks on its chief due to previous grenade attacks by militant groups in 2004, when Zia was prime minister of the country.

Zia also argued that talking about militancy would diminish the image of the nation, result in decreased foreign investment and paint a weak picture of the country’s security.

Contrary to Zia’s statement, it was reported in the media that local and foreign staff members of UNICEF, the International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent and the World Food Program left their offices at Barisal, a southern city, following threats from the militant outfit Jamaa’tul Mujahedin.

The local heads of these organizations reportedly received threatening letters from unnamed militants who introduced themselves as JMB men. The letters ordered the officials to shut down their offices and quit Bangladesh within 72 hours.

Tawfiq Ahmed of UNICEF and Din Muhammad of IFRC, both regional coordinators in Barisal for their respective organizations, confirmed to the media the departure of their staff from the city. Khalilur Rahman, an assistant director of IFRC in Barisal, reportedly lodged a complaint with the local police on April 26. However, the commissioner of police told the media that he “knew nothing about the militant threats to the officials of the three international organizations”.

Zia denied the existence of militants despite the fact that three international agencies were compelled to send their staff away due to threats, while the police commissioner claimed to know of nothing about the threats at all.

From this episode of political denial and police ignorance, one can easily understand how unsafe and insecure life is for people in Bangladesh. Can such practices of denial and ignorance solve security issues or increase legal standards in the country?

Zia’s comment represents the stance of many people who are close to those in power, who directly benefit by maintaining silence on the lawlessness in the country for the sake of the nation’s “image”.

On the other hand, they accuse critics of the existing dysfunctional system of being “pessimistic” or “anti-state elements”, without realizing that maintaining silence on the daily problems of life not only means accepting the ongoing manipulation, but also assisting the problems that cripple the nation.

Ironically, high-profile politicians are not taking the initiative to strengthen the law-enforcement or judicial systems. Top politicians like Khaleda Zia and Sheikh Hasina apparently do not realize that the absence of an effective and functional legal system is the key threat to the image of the country, which hinders foreign investment into Bangladesh.

If international aid organizations like UNICEF, WFP and IFRC are forced to wind up their programs in the country due to threats from Islamic militant groups, who will benefit?

The people of Bangladesh need strong commitments from politicians who are capable of anticipating and solving real problems instead of indulging in the politics of denial and credit-hunting propaganda.

Have Bangladeshi lawyers no dignity?

Bangladesh has produced many lawyers who have gained international recognition, including at the United Nations, by virtue of their professional knowledge and skills. While some have enjoyed fame abroad, others have established themselves within the country as legal experts in areas ranging from the constitution to human rights, from the legislature to the judiciary.

However, dealing with the judiciary can be a confusing and frustrating process for an ordinary citizen with no wealthy background or relationship with a high-profile public official or legal practitioner.

Recently this writer tried to get a certified copy of a Supreme Court judgment through a lawyer who offers free services to victims of human rights abuses and is recognized as an honest person among his peers. The 24-page judgment cost 3000 taka (US). The official cost of court documents is four taka (US 5 cents) per page, so this one should have cost 96 taka (US.20). However, the lawyer said his “unofficial price” was cheaper than most similar documents, since his clerk had a “good relationship” with the staff of the Supreme Court.

This incident implies that the judiciary in Bangladesh has its own definition of honesty. A lawyer may be honest in the sense that he does not exploit his clients, but in order to get things done, money remains an unavoidable and key factor. In other words, lawyers have been directly and indirectly participating in and facilitating corruption, which is an inseparable part of the judicial system.

A man named Shafik Ullah Monayem disappeared on 1 December 2007 from the southern city of Barisal. He was picked up by a group of six persons who introduced themselves as officers of the Rapid Action Battalion, showing their official identity cards. When he failed to return, Monayem’s relatives tried to complain to the local police and other law enforcement agencies, but were denied access.

Monayem’s relatives then contacted two senior lawyers in the city, known for their professional expertise and political clout, and requested them to file a case to discover Monayem’s whereabouts. However, both lawyers discouraged them, saying that lodging a complaint against the RAB officers could worsen the situation. They suggested that the relatives simply wait and watch rather than legally challenging the case.

Such advice carries a message to people that certain segments in the country are above the law, which means that the constitutional right to equal treatment does not exist. These types of double standards are common.

On many occasions when a victim of custodial torture approaches a lawyer to file a case against the alleged perpetrators–mostly the police and the military–the lawyer discourages the victim or his relatives from taking action and also denies assistance and legal support.

Due to the involvement of human rights organizations, a few cases have been registered with the courts. However, less than 10 have been prosecuted in the four decades since the country attained independence. The lack of commitment from lawyers is one of the many reasons for this disappointing picture, where torture in the custody of law-enforcement agencies is a daily occurrence.

There has been no attempt from the leaders of the bar associations or the Bangladesh Bar Council to hold any discourse on the deteriorating features of the judiciary and the legal profession. Legal professionals enjoy the elite status brought by their black gowns, but they are internally empty as far as ethical commitment and rule of law are concerned.

The politics of starvation

The problems of poverty and starvation in Bangladesh are well known to the rest of the world. The Center for Policy Dialogue, a Dhaka-based nongovernmental organization, recently released a report naming the country as the 18th hungriest nation in the world. Quoting this NGO, local media have reported that 28.2 million people are still considered “ultra poor”, while 40 per cent of the country’s 150 million people are below the poverty level.

Another report claims that around 77 per cent of the population living in coastal, submerged and island areas are still ultra poor. The International Food Policy Research Institute, based in Washington DC, in its Global Hunger Index: The Challenge of Hunger 2008, also lists Bangladesh as the18th hungriest nation among 88 countries.

The government of Bangladesh has initiated a few programs to combat the challenge of food security in the country. To improve the socioeconomic situation of people living below the poverty level, the authorities operate various programs providing food for work, food for vulnerable groups and allowances for the elderly and widows.

A large number of NGOs under the direct supervision of local government institutions are involved in implementing these programs. There are controversial claims as to their success and failure from the government and civil society groups respectively.

For example, the elected representatives of a union council, the smallest unit of local government, are officially responsible for preparing lists of eligible candidates for the vulnerable group-feeding program. After assessing their possessions and income, the authorities give eligible people a card entitling them to 15 kilogrammes of free rice per month.

All these programs have given the government a way to show the world how concerned it is for the welfare of the people. On the other hand, the abuse of bureaucratic and political power, as well as corruption–which is an integral part of the Bangladeshi system–have seriously narrowed the avenues for deserving people to benefit from the ongoing socioeconomic protection programs.

The Bangladeshi media have been publishing reports on the manipulation of the system, the abuse of political power and corruption; however, the authorities have little interest in stopping these ongoing practices.

One recent example described in a daily newspaper exposes the level of manipulation that is taking place.

Two sons of ruling party politician Azizul Islam, Sujan and Mamun, were given vulnerable group feeding cards in Atgharia Upazilla, Pabna district. The family owns farmland in the area, along with farming and husking machines, a huge village home, an electronics business and various other establishments in the locality. The family of Azizul Islam, who is president of the Awami League’s local Ward Committee, is known as a rich family in the area.

Responding to journalists’ questions regarding his eligibility for the vulnerable-group feeding card, Sujan said, “We have contributed a lot to the party; we deserve it!”

In contrast, Sakhina Begum, an elderly widow who has lost her eyesight and has been living in another poor man’s house as a homeless person in the neighborhood of Azizul Islam, did not qualify for any of the government programs. The media reports claim there are many such people in the area.

The chairman of the Debottor union council expressed his helplessness by saying, “We have to sign the papers prepared by leaders of the Awami League and approved by the member of parliament of the local constituency.” However, the leaders who were involved in making up the lists for the feeding program refused to comment on their controversial role. The local parliamentarian, Shamsur Rahman Sharif, reportedly claimed that the representatives of the local government did the original job and he just signed the paper as a formality.

This situation provides the answer to the question as to why Bangladesh is included among the 20 hungriest nations of the world. The poor literally starve to death, losing their share to the politically hungry people. The poverty and starvation of the poor end with their individual deaths, while the politicians voraciously eat up more than their share of all that is available in Bangladesh.

The government remains deaf and dumb to the situation. No authority is considering the rationality or fairness of the system. The ruling party leaders, including the prime minister, remain silent, sending a clear message that they are in power only to allow their “own people” to get all the benefits from the state.

The ruling party politicians feel they deserve their big meals, while the starving poor do not. Nobody is ashamed of stealing the food of dying people. In fact, the politicians might prefer to maintain the level of starvation in the country to keep up the flow of foreign aid, and the subsequent corruption it engenders.

MP stands for Muscle Power

The National Parliament of Bangladesh began its first session on 25 January 2009 after a gap of about 27 months. The parliament “re-boot” triggered immense expectations from professionals and citizens regarding its role in fulfilling the aspirations of the people. However, incidents involving some of its members transmit a different message.

Golam Reza was elected to the constituency of southwestern Satkhira, about 400 kilometers from Dhaka. Golam, whose party is part of the ruling coalition led by the Awami League, was driving to the capital on the evening of January 24 to attend the inaugural session.

Upon arriving at the ferry pier at Daulatdia, on the western banks of the Padma river, Golam did not want to join the queue of vehicles on the ferry and in the rush caused a minor collision with a Dhaka-bound bus in front. A windowpane of his jeep broke due to the impact.

Golam got out of his jeep, rushed inside the bus and beat the bus driver, Alal Sheikh, with a shotgun. It is not known whether the gun was licensed or not. Passengers on the bus and other staff protested against Golam’s action, which led to a minor protest by people in the vicinity, who pelted Golam with stones.

Local police reportedly rescued Golam and arranged for his safe exit from the scene of the incident. The bus driver was taken to a local hospital for medical treatment. Although the officer-in-charge of the Goalando police station of Rajbari district registered a case against Golam, which was published by the local media, no action was taken against the lawmaker-cum-lawbreaker.

Officially “MP” stands for Member of Parliament, a person responsible for legislating laws for the people and ensuring that they abide by them. However, after Golam’s blatant disregard for the law, it would be better to interpret MP as standing for Muscle Power.

Golam Reza is not an isolated example. On January 22 similar incidents occurred in many places of Bangladesh where ruling party lawmakers rigged votes in the Upzilla Parishad, or sub-district council elections. For example, Abdur Rahman Bodi, MP of the Bangladesh Awami League in Cox’s Bazaar district, assaulted at least three officers at a polling center for not allowing him to rig votes in the area. Bodi is still enjoying impunity for his lawless actions.

There have been many other instances of physical assault by lawmakers of various political parties in Bangladesh in the past. However, there are no examples where the government has taken stern action against them.

Lawmakers and politicians apparently believe that they can prove their worth by beating people and public servants. Ironically, these lawmakers represent their constituencies and their people in parliament.

Bangladeshis in general are not like Golam and Bodi, so why is the quality of representatives elected to parliament and other local governing bodies so poor?

Political parties have followed the negative path of antisocial behavior and activities to seize, show and hold on to power. For example, slogans of various political parties represent their spirit. Many political processions in Bangladesh start with slogans like, “Jalo, jalo, agun jalo,” which literally translates as “light the fire” but also means intense opposition by burning whatever parties claim as evil. It is too ambitious to expect such politicians to follow willingly the rule of law.

When Bodi was chosen as a party representative for the parliamentary election, it meant that the party and its elected prime minister endorsed him and his actions. The fact that no legal action was taken against him for assault proves the point.

By turning a blind eye to the bad deeds of its own leaders, the government has lost the moral ground to control similar abuses of power by civil bureaucrats and law-enforcing agents in the country.

It is time to rethink the culture of politics in Bangladesh. Politicians of the ongoing “Jalo, jalo culture” are leading the place to ruin.


Footnote: This article consists of the edited text from a series of weekly commentaries, entitled Humanity or Humour? and written for UPI Asia during 2009. The column can be read online at: www.upiasia.com/columnist/Rater_Rater.