Fifteenth August

Fifteenth August: The Unknown Chapters
MUSA SADIK

At 6 in the morning of August 15 Pronodit Borua, an artiste of Swadhin Bangla Betar, began to pound the gate of my government quarters at 37/C Azimpur Colony so heavily, as if he was going to smash it down. He was also hysterically shouting my name. The banging and screaming were so frightful that my neighbour in the opposite quarters (37/D) an officer of the Directorate of Industry who belonged to Sylhet, opened the door simultaneously with me. The man who was from Sylhet said in an irritated tone, "Why are you shouting at this early hour?" Pronodit Borua wept and said in a still louder tone, "You are sleeping? They have killed Bangabandhu and you people are sleeping? On hearing the news the man collapsed. He was a man of heavy frame. Pronodit Borua, my wife and I cradled him and carried him inside his house. His wife began crying. The radio in their house was by now switched on. The radio was beaming the voice of Major Dalim "This is Major Dalim on the air. Sheikh Mujib, the Mir Jafar of Bengal, has been assassinated. Sheikh Mujib the Mir Jafar of Bangla has been assassinated. The government of Sheikh Mujib the Mir Jafar has been ousted. A curfew has been clamped all over the country including the city of Dhaka..."

Just as I heard this, a chill ran down my whole body. Pronodit-Da began crying. I immediately came to my house with Pronodit-Da. I switched on the radio. Just then I again heard a rap on the door. As I opened the door, I found Rowshan Ara Chowdhury, a distant relative of the eminent politician Mizanur Rahman Chowdhury crying. She used to live at a farther end of the same building. She worked for the Radio as a Programme Producer. I saw her crying fitfully. After entering my room, she was still crying,"Then the killers of Bangabandhu will also kill my Uncle Mizan."

From my telephone she tried a few times to connect Mizan Chowdhury's house but only the "engaged" tone was heard. She was very upset and failing to make any telephonic contact she left for her home crying. By that time the same declaration of Dalim was being relayed in the voice of the news reader Sarkar Kabir - "The Mir Jafar of Bengal Sheikh Mujib Sheikh Mujib has been assassinated, curfew has been clamped all over Bangladesh." Immediately and in a state of great excitement, Pronodit-da and I hurried down from the first floor and ran towards Azimpur Orphanage, where we took a rickshaw. We told the rickshaw puller, "Rush towards Dhanmondi. He said, "Whoever goes that way is shot down like a game bird. Don't you know they have killed Bangabandhu?" saying this the bearded rickshaw puller broke into sobs. Hurriedly we took another rickshaw and told the rickshaw puller, "Drive fast. We will pay you as much as you want."

As the rickshaw driver drove past the gate of Eden College and reached in front of Balaka Cinema we saw a truckload of black-dressed men and another truckload of men dressed in police uniform shouting the 'Pakistan Zindabad' slogan. In their thinking Bangabandhu's assassination was the same as the "assassination of Bangladesh." The next moment they started chanting the slogan "Pakistan Zindabad." They did not allow our rickshaw or any other rickshaw to proceed further from Balaka Cinema. Pronodit-Da said, "Let's go home and telephone the different sources to ascertain where Awami League leaders are and what they are doing." We returned to our residence at Azimpur Colony by the same rickshaw. On our way back we saw a few mothers coming from Azimpur Colony area had assembled near Eden Women's College wanting to escort their daughters home. One of them was beating her chest and wailing, "O Allah the Protector, consign the oppressors who have killed our Sheikh to the basest hell. Make them the worms of hell. O Allah, it's the Sheikh who saved the honour of our sisters and daughters in '71. He's the one who drove out the Khan troops. O Allah, what crime the oppressors have committed, O Allah…" By that time a small crowd gathered in the area. Hearing her wailing the eyes of many bystanders were moistened. After hearing the wailings of mothers and sisters in front of Eden College we came home. From home Pronodit-Da tried to talk with a few Awami League leaders. But from everywhere the reply was received that they were not at home.

I then telephoned the residences of different Freedom Fighter officers to decide what to do. Neither my age nor my status at that time was adequate for building up a resistance. Information Secretary of the Mujibnagar Government Anwarul Huq used to reside at Gulshan. He had been the signatory in the letter appointing me as War Correspondent of Swadhin Bangla Betar. For professional reasons I had the closest relations with him and during the Liberation War he was the inspiration behind many of my very daring ventures. When I talked to him, he said, "Try to contact SP Mahbub. If he can build up some resistance from the side of the police, students and the people will join in droves. As you are staying at Azimpur, why not go round the university area to find out whether the students are willing to come out into the streets. See if you can get some professors to persuade the students to this end. Especially, go to Mr Durgadas and tell him what I feel. Let him tell the students that the nation is looking to them for deliverance." He asked for my residence phone number. In the meantime I saw some students overcome by the grief on hearing about the killing of Bangabandhu were weeping and rushing through Plassey towards our Azimpur Colony.

SP Mahbub, Beer Bikram, the officer from the valiant Freedom Fighter list, used to lead the guard of honour in the exiled Mujibnagar Government. Failing to contact him despite repeated attempts, I was terribly disconcerted. There was nothing I could do to get connected. I learnt over the telephone from another Freedom Fighter police officer that he had been to Uttara the previous night in connection with a wedding and stayed there overnight. Then Pronodit-Da told me he had the number of an unclassified telephone in Sheikh Kamal's bedroom. He saw me dialling busily all the numbers of Bangabandhu's residence available in the telephone directory. I then told him, "Why did you not give me this number so long?" Just sobbing crazily. "Will it profit us in anyway? Brother, my head is reeling. I was in the Engineering University Hall. In my sleep I heard someone shout that Bangabandhu has been murdered. On hearing that I rushed to you in a stupefied state." By then I dialled the "unclassified" number of Sheikh Kamal. (Regrettably I don't remember that number after all these years). After three rings I heard someone at the other end say "Hello." I said "This is a friend of Sheikh Kamal speaking. How is Kamal? From the other end came a reply in chaste Urdu "Bohot Achchha. Aap Koun?" I said, "I am a friend of his. Why is the sound of gunshots coming from around their house?" The man said again in chaste Urdu, "Nothing. Crackers are exploding. These people are celebrating. Who are you? From where are you speaking? Give me your telephone number, give me..." At quarter-to-seven in the morning at Bangabandhu's house at Road 32 voice of a man speaking chaste Urdu! I was fully convinced that whoever might have attacked Bangabandhu's house, Pak troops must be among them. Pronodit-Da who had pressed his ear to the receiver said "Musa, this is the voice of a Pakistani soldier." By then my tempers rose and I told him in English, "Why are you speaking in Urdu? Are you Pakistani army?" He thundered, "I am your father. What's your address, bastard?" After I heard chaste Urdu from the murderers in Bangabandhu's house at Road 32 early in the morning and suffered the abusive term 'bastard' flung at me I was left in no doubt that whoever the assassins be, they acted in liaison with Pak military. They have not acted alone.

Then the question arose in my mind whether Pakistani forces have arrived in disguise. One reason for our unease was that the daughter of Shaheed Abdul Gafur MP of Khulna, Hosne Ara Ratna, telephoned me from Shamsunnahar Hall the previous night to say that at 9 at night in front of their Hall someone hoisted the Pakistani flag on a tree and then disappeared. In the darkness of night they could not be seen. After the flag was hoisted, its white portion bearing the emblem of the crescent and star despite the darkness was spotted by some. Sheikh Kamal was accordingly informed from the Hall. Sheikh Kamal came with a group of students, had the flag brought down and tore it up. I further recalled half-an-hour earlier Pronodit-Da and I heard the slogan 'Pakistan Zindabad' in front of the Balaka Cinema from men dressed in police and military fatigues. The bloody scenes of '71 flashed to my mind. In those days the valiant sons of Mother Bengal numbering hundreds of thousands, immolated themselves chanting "Joy Bangla", "Joy Bangabandhu" because the clarion call of Bangabandhu "This time the struggle is for independence" stirred their soul. Now that man who was the fount of inspiration is no more. Then what is surprising about truckloads of men dressed in black and another truckload of men in police fatigues chanting the slogan of "Pakistan Zindabad." Perhaps they have not seen the battle scene. They have not seen how the intrepid Bangalee youths faced Pakistani firepower and got themselves blown to pieces. We could not even bury their dead bodies. Their fellow fighters collected their severed limbs lying all over the battle front, and interred these wrapped in cloth bags. That man whose face inspired hundreds of thousands Freedom Fighters to fight on, in whose name countless Bangalee brothers and sisters embraced martyrdom - that man is no more.

Pronodit-Da and I tried to phone the Rakkhi Bahini. We could not get the connection. I was then a bachelor. A young Freedom Fighter officer. I had led many daring operations in the battle fronts of '71 staking my life. I felt within me an urge to become daring again. Shaking with rage and anguish I, accompanied by Pronodit-Da, again set out for Bangabandhu's home. I thought at least some would come out into the streets in which case we would join in. Or else how are we valiant Freedom Fighters? It was around quarter-to-eight in the morning. We saw small pockets of men at street corners. This time we did not find any police in front of the Balaka Cinema. No one stopped us. As we reached near the Science Laboratory we saw that in the kitchen market adjoining the New Market a group of about 30 to 40 people displaying remarkable courage were wailing and trying to proceed towards Kalabagan. None of them wanted to believe the news of the killing of Bangabandhu. I heard one shopkeeper say, "If they have killed Bangabandhu let them kill me also. Let them kill our brothers and sisters." From a distance I saw a vegetable seller. He left his vegetable basket under care of a someone undid his shirt and beating his breast with his fist ran towards Kalabagan uttering something. I followed him and asked a man about him. The man said, "That man has gone mad. He is shouting 'You Razakar-Al-Badr you want to turn it into Pakistan after shooting Bangabandhu. Shoot me. Turn your gun on me. Let me see how you can make it Pakistan. Shoot me. Aim your gun at me." Seeing them and their resolve of self-sacrifice I felt the surge of a new hope. I thought resistance against the killers of Bangabandhu was building up from all sides. Pronodit-Da and I proceeded along with them and traversing Road 3 reached the corner of Dhanmondi Field. Four students and youths were with us. There a betel shop owner told us that they are firing anyone who comes down on the main road. Just then we heard a few rounds of firing. People were saying that hundreds of army men around Kalabagan and the Dhanmondi Lake, dressed in black and machineguns in hand, were lying facedown with their guns targeted at the main road. Just after that we saw black dressed soldiers in two machinegun-fitted jeeps going at high speed from Road 32 towards Science Laboratory.

A few of them were in the front side of the jeep trigger-ready with their automatic machineguns. We two turned away from that route and walking through Bhuter Goli reached Hatirpool bazaar. Thence going past Paribag we tried to reach the Minto Road residence of Professor Yusuf Ali, Labour Minister. (After 1974, Bangabandhu had relieved him of the portfolio of education and transferred to him the portfolio of labour. Yusuf Ali's private secretary Aminul Huq had been involved in a sex scandal in consequence of which Bangabandhu removed him from service under Presidential Order 9 and even the minister was given a different charge, by which Bangabandhu sought to maintain the sanctity of the education sector unblemished. In Yusuf Ali's place the eminent Dhaka University professor known as 'Mac Sir' was made education minister). I knew Yusuf Ali, since during his tenure as education minister I had worked in his ministry along with Dr Kamal Siddiqui, chief secretary of the present Prime Minister and Dr Sadaat Hossain, the present education secretary. Of course, our acquaintance with Professor Yusuf Ali could be traced back even earlier, to the time when he read out the historic Charter of Independence of Bangladesh of the Mujibnagar Government. That prompted us to try to call at his residence.

As far as I can remember, we even took our identity cards, just in case... But the people who had gathered at Paribag dissuaded us from proceeding towards the main road (the present Kazi Nazrul Islam Avenue). They all said the army has fully taken positions at the main road and the Radio Station. They have taken full control of the Radio Station and are shouting 'Curfew… Curfew.' Residential district of the ministers is fully under their grip. Failing to proceed any further I returned home at around 12-30. I rang up the residence of Professor Yusuf Ali. Mrs Ali told me he had left for the Bangabhaban. I asked her, "As Bangabandhu has been killed, who are going to be the President, Prime Minister, do you have any idea?" She replied, "I am told that Khondokar Moshtaque will be the President and Mansur Ali Prime Minister."

At that time I remembered that during the months of June-July a few ministers often sat in secret meetings in the afternoon or evening on the first floor the of the Works Minister's residence at Minto Road in front of Hotel Intercontinental adjacent to Labour Minister Professor Yusuf Ali's residence. (How many ministers were loyal to Bangabandhu and how many were party to Khondokar Moshtaque's 15 August conspiracy is the tale which I hope to relate to the people in another chapter). I further remembered that in 1974 after his return from the Rabindrabharati University convocation which he had joined as chief guest an important personal letter had arrived in his name.

On the instructions of Mr Mokammel Huq, secretary of the ministry, I went to the minister's house the next day which was a holiday at 11 am to deliver the letter to him. Mrs Ali told me to leave the letter with her as the minister had gone to the neighbouring house. Considering the utmost importance of the letter I instead of handing over the letter to Mrs Ali told her, "It's a very important letter. I want to deliver it to him by my own hand." There was an unused passage in the backyard of the education minister's house which connected it with the house of the works minister.

When I took that passage and went to the first floor of the connecting house, I saw the education minister along with other ministers descending the staircase.

On seeing me the ministers (Works Minister Sohrab Hossain, Education Minister Yusuf Ali, State Minister Obaidur Rahman, State Minister Taheruddin Thakur, Chief Whip Shah Moazzem Hossain and a few other ministers) were inflamed. I was astonished. Why were they enraged without any cause. After assassination of Bangabandhu in the morning August 15, when these people occupied high ministerial positions, the reason for their flying into a rage became clear to me. I further recalled that I was invited to a dinner on the evening of 9 or 10 August at a two-storied house at Dhanmondi, somewhere midway between Road 27 and Aarong. My hostess was a lady doctor. The reason I was so honoured was that I by interceding with the mighty education secretary Mokammel Huq had arranged for a Russian scholarship for this lady doctor's brilliant younger brother.

Of course, as a candidate he was quite eligible. But when I reached their house at eight in the evening I found that beds, other furniture pieces, fridge, etcetera were being taken down. Seeing me the lady doctor said extremely apologetically, "Brother, I did invite you but I cannot host it. I am required to shift my dwelling overnight. Here some great danger may befall us. Hence this hasty shifting. I will invite you when we have moved into the new house."

I was slightly intrigued and said, "Never mind. No invitation is necessary. I too shall remain busy this month." After saying this I came away. A few days later the tragedy was enacted at the Road 32 house of Bangabandhu and the husband of this lady took oath of office as a minister at Bangabhaban. He is the one whom Bangabandhu had removed as a minister on charges of corruption. It now became clear to me how Bangabandhu's ministers were spreading a net of intrigue. Ten or twelve ministers in Bangabandhu's cabinet and four secretaries of his Secretariat including chief secretary Abdur Rahim had for a long time been in conspiracy, about which Bangabandhu remained unaware. That is the tragedy.

At that time I did not know anyone at the country's policy making level. I hardly had any acquaintance in the armed forces except General Osmani Sir whom I knew somewhat intimately in connection with my job as War Correspondent of Swadhin Bangla Betar and some sector commanders and a few staff officers. Among secretaries the Principal Secretary Mr Ruhul Quddus, Secretary Mr Mokammel Huq, Mr Noor Mohammed, Mr Mujibul Huq and one or two others knew me, as well as a few among the valiant Freedom Fighters. One of them was Haresuddin Sarkar, Beer Pratik. Since '71 I knew him as an intrepid commando fighter. I told him, "If somehow a resistance can be built up in Dhaka, the people will join in. I have had a talk with the young Freedom Fighter officers. They said they are only waiting for a call. They will kick their chair in the Secretariat and plunge into the resistance. They will avenge the murder of the Father of the Nation." The Freedom Fighter Major Fazle Hossain told me, "The killers have Bangabandhu; the Freedom Fighters and conscientious members of the army are not with them." Haresuddin, Beer Pratik, had said, "as they have broken the chain of command the cantonments in Chittagong, Jessore, Comilla are all against them. Even the BDR in Dhaka is against them. We are now waiting for a command from above to crush them."

At the same time he said, "There is no cause for worry. We are trying to take Prime Minister Mansur Ali to north Bengal via Jinjira. The entire north Bengal is liberated. Some senior officers of the armed forces are with us in this scheme. The resistance in Dhaka will begin within one or two days." Haresuddin at that used to reside at Hotel Dilshad, near Gulistan. Having received from him encouragement and seeing a ray of hope I on 19 August informed the eminent journalist and BBC's correspondent Mark Tully who had come from New Delhi, at Hotel Intercontinental. I reported to him: "Mukti Bahini and Mujib Bahini are organising in Dhaka against the killers of Bangabandhu. They will attack them anytime in and around Dhaka. The killers of Bangabandhu are Pakistani agents and enemy of Bangladesh. You can please broadcast that the people of Bangladesh shall never accept them."

As War Correspondent of Swadhin Bangla Betar I had gratuitously provided him with many news-items from the war front and later in independent Bangladesh through the PID I had also rendered him valuable service. He knew me and trusted me. When I am recounting this after 29 years I must salute Mr Mark Tully on behalf of all the Freedom Fighter officers and employees of the Republic for his kind favour of broadcasting the news over the BBC on that evening.

==============================================
The writer was war correspondent, Swadhin Bangla Betar Kendra and is a retired Joint Secretary. E-mail address: musa@acesstel.net