Guerrilla Hafiz and the freedom fighters we have failed

How does one prove s/he participated in the 1971 Liberation War? It is common knowledge now that Bangladesh's civilian population – farmers, students, majhi and jele – created the backbone of the guerrilla forces that liberated this country.

However, not everyone engaged in direct combat. Families risked their lives by taking in freedom fighters and giving them food and shelter. Fishermen transported ammunition in their boats at great personal risks. Teachers distributed revolutionary pamphlets, shopkeepers watched Pakistani soldiers' movements, and ordinary workers, whether they came from a field or an office, passed on information to the resistance. It could be argued that they were all, in their own capacities, fighting for freedom.

The Bangladesh government has, to a degree, acknowledged how wide-ranging the independence efforts were. So far, 253 members of Swadhin Bangla Betar Kendra have been recognised as freedom fighters. Recently, 448 of the Birangona received the same recognition – a drop in the ocean given how widespread wartime sexual violence was, but nevertheless a step in the right direction.

The point is, it is not always possible to identify citizens' contributions in terms of bullets fired or injuries sustained, and it isn't easy to provide evidence towards that end either.

But when they do exist, surely they help?

Take, for example, the case of martyred Syed Hafizur Rahman, whose family owns a copy of the Tk 2,000 cheque awarded to them by Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman in 1972. During his time with the well-known Crack Platoon, Hafizur Rahman earned the name "Guerrilla Hafiz" for his expertise in laying mines and planning effective ambushes. This is proven in a letter owned by the family, signed by Crack Platoon guerrilla commander Golam Dastagir Gazi. The largest collection of the Liberation War documents, Bangladesher Swadhinota Juddho: Dolil Potro, also has details of the operations he took part in.

Such a man, you would think, would never face trouble being recognised as a freedom fighter.

Unfortunately, he never got to enjoy this recognition. A few months before the war ended, he was captured and brutally tortured, according to eyewitness accounts. Despite having his eyes gouged out by Pakistani interrogators, he refused to give up any information. He was taken away, never to be found again. By all accounts, Guerrilla Hafiz was a hero who gave his life for his country.

But not according to the Ministry of Liberation War Affairs, which recently rejected his family's petition to recognise him as a freedom fighter for the ninth time. He has not even been recognised as a martyr, even though almost all of the martyred guerrillas of Crack Platoon have been given posthumous gallantry awards.

What is the reason behind this oversight? The relevant authorities' excuses range from being clumsy to downright absurd. Liberation War Affairs Minister AKM Mozammel Haque told media that the appeal was rejected because, as of February 8, the ministry is no longer accepting fresh applications for state recognition. This statement was then contradicted by a member of the Jatiya Muktijoddha Council, who said the ministry can't choose to end the process without consulting them first.

In fact, the minister is directly in conflict with himself, since on October 23, he told The Daily Star that a fresh application would lead to necessary steps being taken, and that "The recommendation from fellow freedom fighters alone is enough for state recognition."

Why these conflicting statements? It is concerning that the ministry in charge of such a significant chapter of history is implying that a technicality is enough reason to refuse to preserve our collective memories as a nation, and that there seems to be no cohesion in carrying out this important task. The government has committed to making a list of freedom fighters. Why, then, should a known freedom fighter be excluded from it? And how can we expect the list to include those with less obvious – but no less significant – contributions?

Hafizur Rahman's family submitted nine applications from 1974 to 2022. On the seventh attempt, they were specifically asked for a training certificate from India – a measure to reportedly guard against "fake freedom fighters." This implies anyone without a formal training certificate could be accused of this – a ludicrous suggestion that could wipe out many civilian fighters off of the government's list.

While the veracity of applicants should absolutely be double-checked, it is difficult to forget how the same authorities accidentally included the name of at least seven freedom fighters, including a martyr and the chief prosecutor of the International Crimes Tribunal, on a list meant for Razakars in 2019. I believe we may be forgiven for questioning just how organised this process of verification is, especially since there have been reports of freedom fighters being deprived of government benefits or allowances, despite having official certificates.

Even more worryingly, in 2014, during another attempt for recognition, his family was told by a ministry official that the training certificate issue could be solved if Tk 5-10 lakh was "paid at the right place." We have now reached a point where freedom fighters are being asked to pay bribes from beyond the grave for state recognition.

How much deeper can this rot spread? How many more will be erased from the pages of history due to government officials who are corrupt at worst, and sloppy and inefficient at best? And can we really accept that the persons responsible for these offices and ministries seem to always be "not aware" of what is going on in their own departments when such accusations arise against them?

Guerrilla Hafiz was an ordinary young man in 1971, known for his considerable skill with the guitar. After the genocide of March 25 and his father's death at the hands of Pakistani soldiers in early April, he joined martyred musician Altaf Mahmud to contribute to Swadhin Bangla Betar Kendra's work. Soon after, he traded in his guitar for a rifle, and he never returned home again.

It feels almost shameful now, in 2022, to be writing about giving him the official recognition that he should have gotten decades ago.

Shuprova Tasneem is a member of the editorial team at The Daily Star. Her Twitter handle is @shuprovatasneem