Greek tragedy on the Grameen stage

Under the shade of a mango tree, in a village three hours from Dhaka, about thirty women were gathered around a team from the World Bank. It was the mid-nineteen nineties. Preparation work for a World Bank-funded project on non-formal education was underway and the meeting was part of this process. As an education specialist in the team, I was interested in the views of rural Bangladeshi women on literacy programmes for young adults. The animated interventions, confidence, and enthusiasm of five or six women particularly struck me. They introduced themselves as members of the Grameen Bank. This was my first direct interaction with Grameen borrowers. The women left an everlasting impression on my mind.
Today, as I sieve through the information (and misinformation) that is being churned out about the Grameen Bank, my mind naturally slips back to the women I met nearly two decades ago. I can still see the conviction and aspiration in their eyes. For me, the Grameen Bank is not just an institution that won the Nobel Prize -- it personifies the empowered women who own it.
Much has been written and said by experts on the Bangladesh government's actions to clip Grameen's wings. I can add little more substance to these discussions. However, it's frustrating to stand by and watch a great institution, built over thirty years, being destroyed at the stroke of a pen. Hence, I feel impelled to express my opinion about the way the issue has been handled by the "powers that be." Sadly, the entire process, from tarnishing the image of a national icon to attempts at damaging a noteworthy institution, seems to be unfolding like a Greek tragedy.
It may, thus, be relevant to recount some lessons from Sophocles' immortal play Antigone. The story begins in the aftermath of a civil war between two brothers Polyneices and Eteocles, fighting for the throne of Thebes. They are both killed in battle and their uncle Creon becomes the new ruler. Creon favours Eteocles and decrees that he be buried with honour, while Polyneices, perceived as a traitor, should lie unburied to be preyed upon by worms and vultures. Antigone, the sister of Polyneices and Eteocles, decides to bury Polyneices despite Creon's edict, because she believes that according to the law of God every man deserves a decent burial.
What happens next follows the pattern of a Greek tragedy. Antigone is sentenced to death, but she hangs herself before the order is executed. Creon's son Haemon, who is engaged to be married to Antigone, on failing to deter his father from his obstinate and harsh decision, commits suicide. Devastated by the news of her son's death, Creon's wife also kills herself -- the sequence of events leads to a cataclysmic disaster.
As the plot unravels through Antigone's determination to bury her brother defying the king's decree, Sophocles raises a basic ethical question: which law is greater -- God's or man's? And, he opts for the law of God because man is often misguided by negative forces such as hubris and vengeance. There is yet another important principle that the play highlights. For Creon, good citizenship is unquestioning obedience to the will of the State. Thus he condemns Antigone to death because she has compromised her citizenship by disobeying him. Antigone, however, believes that it's the duty of responsible citizens to protest if they are convinced that the State's laws go against the dictates of conscience or the moral code.
The parallels between the Bangladesh Grameen debacle and the tragedy at Thebes may seem far-fetched and the context may be somewhat different. Nevertheless, there is an intimate connection. Professor Yunus is undeniably a man who lifted his country to honour and fame and opened up endless possibilities for nine million disenfranchised citizens. Whatever differences the government may have with him, does he not, in the least, deserve an honourable "send off?" And, does the voice of the citizens count for nothing? As Sophocles says so poignantly: "It is no city if it takes orders from one voice."
If there is one lesson that history and ancient cultures teach us time and again, it is this: what appears to be a demonstration of power in the short term may result in irreparable damage and destruction in the long haul! There are many examples from the past to support this fact. And, we still haven't got it right.

The writer is a renowned Rabindra Sangeet exponent and a former employee of the World Bank.