When Bangabandhu came home

The Liberator returns!Photo: STAR

ALL these years after it happened, the magic still holds the soul in thrall. To know that the Father of the Nation was on his way back home, to hear him inform the world at a dream of a news conference at London's Claridge's, that he was alive and well after all those months of darkness in a Pakistani prison, was a powerful message for Bengalis: that all was on track and that indeed the future was theirs to shape.
There were millions of us converging on the old airport at Tejgaon at dawn on January 10, 1972, to welcome the liberator back to a land his inspiring leadership had propelled to freedom through a well-fought, tear-filled and blood-soaked struggle of epic proportions.
And yet, it all sounded too good to be true. Hadn't Yahya Khan vowed to destroy Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman on charges of waging war against Pakistan? Hadn't a secret military trial convicted the Bengali leader and sentenced him to death somewhere in what now was a rump Pakistan? When freedom dawned on the afternoon of December 16, 1971, not one among us in all those rejoicing crowds on the streets of a free Dhaka knew if Mujib was alive.
In the euphoria of liberty, we stumbled upon the grating reality of the mutilated bodies of Bengali intellectuals strewn all across the brick fields of Rayerbazar, men and women done to death by Pakistan's retreating occupation army and its local quislings. If Pakistan could do that to us even as it ceded ground to the Mukti Bahini, it might well have already taken the life of Bangladesh's liberator.
But, on that January afternoon, as the jet carrying Bangabandhu was spotted gleaming over Dhaka, we knew we did not have to pinch ourselves to make sure that we were part of a new reality. Here was the man who had, moments into his declaration of Bangladesh's independence on March 26, 1971, been seized by the soldiers and bundled off to West Pakistan even as his new country was being put to the torch.
In the reception line on the tarmac, which yet bore signs of the ravages of war, all the men who had conducted the struggle for liberation as the Mujibnagar government, waited for Bangabandhu to emerge from the aircraft now taxiing towards them. Colonel M.A.G. Osmany paced up and down, restless and anxiety playing on his features. The young student leaders, whose intense patriotism would always be a shining instance of glory for generations of Bengalis to come, appeared eager to gather Bangabandhu to their bosom.
And then the Father of the Nation emerged. He smiled, he ran his hand through his hair as it fell over his forehead. And there was that inimitable smile on his lips. Seconds later, he was in tears. Everyone was in tears. Tajuddin buried his face in the leader's shoulder. The students collected around him in a protective embrace. It was Mujib in his new avatar. In Delhi only hours earlier, he had been welcomed as the president of Bangladesh. In Dhaka, it was seventy five million Bengalis who watched their head of state inspect an honour guard before setting off for the Race Course, the same where echoes of his March 7, 1971, clarion call to liberty were yet being heard.
The truck bearing Bangabandhu inched its way forward. That brief distance from the airport to the Race Course had turned into an unending, patient measuring of centimetres. Every bit of space was gone, for the happy crowds had taken hold of them. Every rooftop was an image of delighted faces -- men, women and children. The young perched themselves on the branches of trees to share in the glory. Every conversation was but two simple, purposeful, energising words. It was Joi Bangla.
As afternoon moved towards twilight, Bangabandhu spoke to the country for the first time since March 1971. The words came from his heart, as they always did. His voice was choked with emotion, but that did little to mar the eloquence of his expression. It was once again Bangabandhu's oratory at its peak of grandeur.
And then we all went home. The war was over. The battle had been won. Bangabandhu was back home to lead us into the future. Nothing could go wrong. It was good to be alive. It was great being a witness to the making of history.
Syed Badrul Ahsan is Editor, Current Affairs, The Daily Star. He was among the millions who welcomed the Father of the Nation back home on January 10, 1972.