Growth of a nation . . . and the health of a society

Nehal Karim does a good job of presenting Bangladesh's history in a nutshell here. Well, it is not exactly a nutshell in that he stays away from the temptation of providing readers with a dry enumeration of events and personalities. On second thought, it is a good deal more, seeing that he offers up a background to the incidents and happenings which were to pave the way to the growth of nationalism in Bangladesh. There is an absence of pontification here, which is why the work acquires a charm all its own. In socio-political conditions where the tendency, or call it trend, is toward an esoteric analysis of history, Karim avoids the pitfalls of seeing his book turn into just another tome to be displayed on the shelf.
This is a work which traces, step by careful step, the politics and the personalities that have mattered in Bangladesh and in the region of which it was an integral part till the withdrawal of the British colonial power. This the writer does through taking the reader down that all too familiar road where the tales of the 1857 revolt against the British lead to certain inevitabilities in the years that follow. The style is all, for it is one any student of history will find to be of profit. The chapters follow rapidly, and systematically, one upon the other. The establishment of the Indian National Congress, the 1905 partition of Bengal, the rise of the Muslim League, the Government of India Act 1935, the Two-Nation Theory, the Cripps and Cabinet Missions, et al, are the underpinning of the work. And then there is more; and it comes through a detailed account of the factors behind a shaping up of the social structure in Bengal in the years leading up to the creation of Pakistan in 1947.
By far the most riveting section of Karim's book pertains to the relations between East and West Pakistan following the division of India. Scholars attuned to Pakistan and Bangladesh studies, one suspects, cannot suppress a glee of delight as they wade through the tables and figures Karim provides as a way of explaining the exploitation Bengalis went through in their twenty four years as part of Pakistan. Here is a glimpse into some sordid realities of those years: between 1947 and 1955, there was no Bengali serving as secretary in the central government, in contrast to 19 West Pakistanis working as secretaries. Take the case of the armed forces. Up to 1955, there were only 14 Bengali officers in the Pakistan army, with the number of West Pakistanis much higher --- a grand total of 894. When you highlight, therefore, the political struggle that shaped up especially in the 1960s and eventually culminated in a rise of Bengali nationalism, you recall in palpable manner some of the underlying causes behind the growth of the movement that was to lead to Bangladesh's emergence as a free nation.
And that precisely is where Karim deserves credit. The work is as much a recapitulation of history as it is a reminder of the principles that added substance to Bengali nationalism. The writer, an academic at Dhaka University, lists the political aspects of the Bengali struggle, included among which are such seminal events as the 1954 elections, the martial law of 1958, the Six Points movement of 1966 and the general elections of 1970. For good measure, he makes note of such factors as West Pakistani racial prejudice vis-à-vis Bengalis, the Ayub-era education policy and overall repression of Bengali culture to explain his argument.
It is a gripping read, almost unputdownable.
How many of us remain aware of the historical antecedents behind some of the more auspicious events in our lives? Take the story of Mitford Hospital and Dhaka Medical School. That Robert Mitford was the moving spirit behind all this programme of health care in the eastern part of Bengal (and we are speaking of the 19th century) is a story not many have cared to recall or delve into. And yet Sharif uddin Ahmed, a respected academic at Dhaka University, one with his ear to the ground of historical research, does remember. And he remembers for each one of us the incidents that led to the growth of the institutions he deals with in this well presented work.
In a society where the high calling of research is all too often sidelined by a propensity for self-aggrandisement and evident hollowness, the work in review proves almost with insistence that the yearning for scholarly work thrives yet in those whose awareness of history remains as acute as that of the old masters of historical study. Sharif uddin Ahmed, whose newest activity happens to be coordinating an Asiatic Society programme geared to celebrating the 400th anniversary of Dhaka, has sketched in meticulous detail the roots of the enterprise that was to be Mitford Hospital as well as Dhaka Medical School. The emphasis is on the formative years of the two institutions. In a broad sense, the period Ahmed covers spans the years between 1858 and 1947. These two years hold special significance in the politics of what used to be British colonial India. The beginnings of Mitford Hospital came a mere year after the uprising of 1857, indeed when the ramifications of the revolt and its terrible suppression were yet being felt. In 1947, vivisection of the land, indeed of the soul, marked the arrival of political freedom.
Dhaka, for all its grandeur, as attested to in the Mughal and subsequent era, had clearly fallen on bad times in the earlier part of the 19th century. East Bengal did not give any impression other than that it was a backwater not just within the all-India context but from the perspective of united Bengal as well. It was this backwater that provided fertile ground, it now seems reasonable to conclude, for the growth of the medical institutions the book analyses in painful detail.
Sharif uddin Ahmed's approach will not leave the lay reader disappointed as much as it will not give scholars scope to question the quality of the work. It is a study that can complement one's understanding of the social history of the part of Bengal that was to make its mark someday as the independent republic of Bangladesh. Do not forget, though, that the work is a clarion call to those on whose watch medical education and patients' welfare have in recent times gone through a qualitative decline: if public welfare was the ethos in 1858, it may as well be the same in these times, despite the seemingly all-consuming mediocrity all around.
Syed Badrul Ahsan is Editor, Current Affairs, The Daily Star.