The wilderness of devalued values
"...the sanctity of the Dhaka University campus was inviolable in the fifties. No police, no political leader would dare violate its sanctity. What do we find today?" asks Mohammad Ameeruz Zaman in his compilation of mainly newspaper articles written by him mostly in the 1990s, In Quest of Fairness. He was at once lamenting the end of the innocence of idealism in student politics in the 1950s, and lambasting the degradation of what passed for (and even more emphatically passes for in the new millennium) student politics in the mid-1990s. It is also a sampling of the general tenor of the book, written by a one time high bureaucrat of Pakistan who also had a protracted stint in working for the United Nations. Nostalgia for the days of his formative years in the 1950s and the values and political idealism of the 50s and 60s seep through his writings again and again, as well as his despondency over what he views as alarming degradation of mores and traditions, which could lead one to mistake the author for a curmudgeon and an armchair idealist and fatalist. That assessment would be a mistake, though, since, even allowing for the expected changes in perspectives and ethos in a new generation, there have been unmistakable changes for the worse in certain core value areas from the 50s and 60s to the 90s and beyond, as Zaman brings up on a number of occasions.
In Quest of Fairness is a compendium of events, observations and comments conveyed in an outraged, often resigned and fatalistic, tone by one who comes across as a decent person. It is a somewhat laboured and laborious effort at trying to explain such important topics as the fine line that exists between the letter and the spirit of law, social justice, and unbridled capitalism. His disapproval of the massive inequality in income and opportunities between a few and the vast majority of the rest of the population of Bangladesh comes across throughout the book. And, although some might have reservations on some of its aspects, Zaman presents more than just a semblance of objective analysis of Bangladesh's political, economic, and social history. He has much home truths to offer, some, at once basic and yet so ignored that one wonders at the amazing capacity of the average Bangladeshi of being able to shy away from facing the truth even when the truth hits him/her right on his/her face, of adopting an escapist attitude, of being the ostrich in the sand during a sandstorm. In fact, under the subtitle of one of his chapters, "Ostrich-like Attitude of Bangladesh", the author reiterates an eternal truth that is applicable to a variety of situations. Take your pick in the context of Bangladesh: "For, (historical) facts --- sweet and sour --- are facts and will continue to remain so from here to eternity, irrespective of subsequent historical developments."
Or, consider some of the arguments and examples he puts forward for him to come to this conclusion in 1996: "Bangladesh is now saddled with more precedent and may have to heavily pay for it in future." He was being prescient as well as canny about the imposition of the caretaker government system (based on the assumption that "given the erosion of our national character, the general elections, if held under the incumbent elected Government, would be rigged") brought about by the 13th amendment to the Constitution, the penchant for rather frequent amendments to the Constitution ("to amend it every now and then would amount to subverting its supremacy and derogating it to the status of the ordinary law"), and the degeneration of the bitter divide on the demand for the amendment into anarchy. He had brought up such issues as the meddling of foreign diplomats in this country's political (and economic) affairs (remember the infamous so-called "Tuesday Group"?) partly as a consequence of us giving "the rest of the world the disheartingly (sic) impression that our "political" insolvency was of the worst variant", especially of the resident diplomatic missions in Dhaka "who have started interfering in our internal affairs in breach of Article 11 of the Vienna Convention on Diplomatic Relations, 1964), and of openly partisan rebellion of the civil bureaucracy.
There are other astute observations and, yes, lamentations. Comparing the membership of the East Pakistan Provincial Legislative Assembly of 1954, which was generally representative of "the little men both in law and in morality" with the post-1971 editions of members of the Jatiyo Sangsad, which has more and more been peopled from the world of business and industry, he perceives a "qualitative deterioration" from those days of political propriety and relatively more balanced representation in 1954. Dwelling on another, crucial, aspect of elections, he observes, "To the best of my knowledge none complained that 1945 (provincial elections in Bengal under the British raj) and 1954 elections were jammed by fortune hunters of post-1971 brand and they "rigged" the elections. In 1954 the Chief Minister himself was defeated. His party lost heavily. But no one even remotely indicated the election was rigged." And, one ramification of such progression into a state of dismal political culture? Zaman's comment on the issue might sound a tad cynical, but, take a look at the post-election reactions from the vanquished (especially during the stretch of parliamentary democracy since 1991), and you might be inclined to agree with him that, "Now not even an angel can possibly ensure a free and fair election..." (at least for some time until the day hopefully arrives when virulent mutual mistrust, political intolerance, and infantile political behaviour, among other dysfunctions, disappear to clean up the country's political culture).
Zaman, who has also studied law, spends a fair amount of time on the subject of law in theory and practice, and finds that, in Bangladesh, the gap between hypothesis/ideals and application is quite acute than would be the norm in most other nations and societies where the rule of law prevails. The very title of Chapter 28, "Are All Citizens of Bangladesh Equal Before Law?" tries to both pose questions and attempt to answer them. Actually, it is a very generic point that he brings up, one that eloquently highlights the yawning chasm between the small number of the affluent and the vast majority of the less fortunate that has already been touched upon. Another very disturbing aspect of the judicial process that he brought up in 1996 is the presidential pardon of persons convicted (including that of murder) in a court of law and their release from jail. Like many other dysfunctional elements in Bangladeshi society, this practice has had a snowballing effect from one government to the next. The practice could be interpreted as being tantamount to flouting of the judiciary.
Zaman lays out his philosophy, if that indeed is what it is, in Chapter 2. The title, "Gap between Fairness and Law in Bangladesh Today", composed in 1996, is self-explanatory. He poses some serious questions and makes a thoughtful proposition: "In our part of the global village, statutory law has been largely stagnant and static, whereas fairness, being an element of normative ethics, is dynamic. Therefore, there is a case for constant participatory review and change of our statutory laws and make them at least less inconsistent with the requirements of, fairness." Do not be duped by Mohammad Ameeruz Zaman's somewhat ponderous style and wistful tone. In Quest of Fairness is less preachy than many similar books, and offers some astute insight into politics, economy, the legal system and society of Bangladesh based on the author's over half a century of observation and some student activism. You see, before joining the Civil Service of Pakistan, Zaman served as General Secretary of the Dhaka University Central Students Union.
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