Published on 12:00 AM, December 16, 2023

Echoes from the Archives

Rediscovering the Bangladesh Liberation War through Unexplored Archives

Writing the history of war, especially the history of a liberation war, is one of the most challenging tasks for historians. The Bangladesh Liberation War in 1971 was no exception. Faced with the loss, destruction, or restricted access to potential archives, historians grapple with the task of finding alternative sources, often turning to oral histories.

Several significant archives for filling the gaps in documents related to the liberation war of Bangladesh are located overseas. Among these, the National Archives in the UK stands out as one of the most crucial resources. During the Summer and Fall, I had the opportunity to visit the National Archives at Kew Gardens in the UK and conduct around two months of archival research. The documents pertaining to the Bangladesh Liberation War are preserved under the Department of Foreign and Commonwealth Office (FCO). Some of these documents, declassified most recently, remain largely unexplored by historians of the Bangladesh Liberation War. The materials from the National Archives, UK provide valuable insights into both internal and external developments related to the Liberation War of Bangladesh.

I am grateful for the generous funding provided by the McGill University Mobility Award and the Schull Yang International Experience Award, which supported my archival research. Additionally, I extend my thanks to my hosts, Rubayet Sharmin and Razin Khan, in London.

Azizul Rasel, PhD Student at McGill University, Canada.


MARTIAL LAWLESSNESS IN DACCA

CENTRAL REGISTRY D.E.A.

April 5, 1971

NOM. INDEX. SUBJECT:

OFFICE OF THE DEPUTY HIGH COMMISSIONER FOR AUSTRALIA, DACCA

In reply quote No...201/2/1

Memorandum No…54.

30th March, 1971

Australian High Commission, ISLAMABAD.

The long arduous road to democracy in Pakistan again came to a dead end late in the evening of Thursday 25th March. Ironically this was the date set by the President for holding the postponed inaugural meeting of the National Assembly.

2.

The first which the large majority in Dacca knew that anything was happening was towards midnight, when they heard the rattle of machine guns, accompanied by the flashes and the crump of recoilless rifles. Obviously something big had started, but there was no knowing its immediate cause. Firing went on throughout the night. The glow of several large fires lit the sky.

3.

When morning dawned, telephones all over the city were dead (disconnected by the Military as we subsequently discovered); Radio Pakistan was off the air and no daily papers were delivered. We hesitated to move out, because the servants had "picked up" that there was a strict "shoot at sight" curfew in operation. The only other item of information available to us in Gulshan at the time was a telephone message the previous evening from our Head Clerk who had rung at 11 pm from his home in old Dacca to say that people were "putting up barricades all over the place". This was puzzling. Admittedly Mujib had called for a province wide hartal for Saturday, 27th March, and Thursday hartals are the usual excuse for creating barricades. But Thursday evening was much too early for erecting barricades which would not be required before Saturday morning. And why such big heavy barricades?

4.

However, at 8am (26th March), Radio Pakistan suddenly came on the air with a newscast in Bengali, which began with the ominous item that the President had left Dacca the evening before and was now in Karachi; that an indefinite curfew had been imposed in Dacca and that listeners should stand by for an important announcement at 10 am. The rattle of machine guns and the explosion of grenades still went on. At 10 am a palpably inexperienced announcer, in what amounted to High School standard English, read out the 15 new Martial Law Orders.

5.

Since some of these Martial Law Orders required citizens to take action immediately (eg deliver up guns, cyclostyling machines, etc), and since there was no mention during the course of the above announcement of any curfew, it was not illogical to assume that one could legitimately move straight away from one place to another in carrying out the Orders. I therefore drove off in the Mercedes, flying the Australian flag. The roads were empty; but near the airport I was stopped by a strong posse of some 30 soldiers bristling with Sten guns at the ready, who refused to let me pass. They could speak only Urdu and obviously did not know the significance either of a diplomatic number plate. or of the flag of a foreign country. (When I had finished with them, in choice if not particularly chaste Urdu, their understanding was very much better). I could no doubt have obtained a pass from some military source but this would have taken much time and effort. In any event, there was little I could do, since at that time information concerning events was scanty and confused. Furthermore there was no means of communicating with the outside world.

6.

Subsequently it became possible to piece together the story of the night of Thursday 25th March as follows: (It must of course be borne in mind that, with no daily papers, no radio, (the officially controlled centre in Dacca was useless except for getting the text of the new Martial Law Orders, etc) and no telephone, it was difficult, often impossible, to distinguish between fact and rumour. And rumours certainly abounded).

7.

The first question was (i) When did the Army actually move out? (ii) Was any specific pretext given? (iii) Was any curfew announced?

8.

On the question of "when", all evidence seems to agree on "about 11.30 pm". (ie some two hours after the President's clandestine departure). (ii) On the question of "what pretext?", there seems to be no certainty. Admittedly students and other militants had started with extraordinary energy and speed to erect formidable barricades all over the city (see paragraph 3 above) - having got wind presumably that the Military were planning a move. (It is also possible that a story had come through from Chittagong that 3000 had been killed in the confrontation between the Army and the public over unloading ammunition from MV "Swat" and transporting it from the wharf to the cantonment). Without access to the Army's inner councils no one can be certain, but it's now seems reasonably clear that the Army's plan to take fire and sudden action had been taken some time previously. Pointers in this direction had been the following: (a) The removal of "sympathisers" like Governor Ahsan and MLA General Yakub at the beginning of March. (b) The appointment of Tikka Khan as Martial Law Administrator, Zone "B", in place of Yakub. This step was especially ominous. Tikka Khan was well known as Pakistan's toughest general indeed as "Butcher No. 1". (He earned this reputation in the early sixties when he subdued a movement for freedom in Baluchistan by the simple expedient of massacring 50,000 Baluchis). (c) It was confirmed in the press on Thursday 25th March that the President had spent Tuesday 23rd March in the Cantonment. What was he doing there? Formulating/approving the Army's plan of action? (iii) On the question of any announcement over the radio, eg curfew or anything else, so far as I can ascertain, no one is aware of any such warning announcement.

9.

Thus, suddenly, at about 11.30 pm on Thursday, 25th March, without any warning of any kind, the Army moved out in full force in lorries, tanks, armoured cars, and jeeps, armed with automatic rifles, grenades and recoilless rifles. They spread rapidly throughout the city. They had one purpose and one purpose only -- to strike terror as widely and deeply as possible. This was to be done by killing as many Bengalis as they could find in what they regarded as "suspect" areas.

10.

In the course of a night of savage indiscriminate murder over most of the city (see paragraph 11), the Military made special attacks on certain focal points. The following are examples:-

(a) Newspaper Offices. From a window in the Intercontinental Hotel, Mr. Rodgers saw the Army attack and sack the office of "The People", which was situated one hundred yards from the Hotel. The Army had disapproved of the articles in "The People", and therefore "The People" was one of their special targets. The office was set on fire and demolished with explosive shells and those staff unable to escape were mown down with machine gun fire. Precisely the same happened to "Ittefaq", recently established Bengali daily. The onslaught by tanks was particularly heavy in this case.

(b) University Campus. As was to be expected, the University area came in for special treatment. In Iqbal Hall the Military burst in and machine-gunned 14 students plus 9 Professors and their families. Two bodies (a man and a young girl were still on the roof on Sunday morning). Solimullah Hall suffered the same fate. The precise number of the dead is not known, but a British Council officer said that he saw them carting three lorry loads of bodies away next day. The same story applied to Jagannath Hall, where sudden wholesale carnage left not one student or member of staff alive. The Army had nothing against the British Council Library as such -- except that it was guarded by a posse of 7 East Pakistan Riflemen. They shot them all, including those who were off duty at the time, resting in their bunkhouse behind the library.

(c) Police. Apparently a firm decision had been taken that all policemen must be eliminated. Consequently, with the exception of any who were off duty or who managed to escape into the darkness, every single policeman in Dacca was shot on the night of 25th March. The main police barracks was situated at Rajarbagh. This saw one of the main actions of the night, where the police fought back with whatever weapons they possessed. However, although they fought tenaciously for several hours, they stood no chance against the Army's much superior fire power. Many policemen were killed and the barracks themselves razed to the ground.

(d) East Pakistan Rifles. The same story applied to the EPR Head- quarters in Dhanmandi. The fate of EPR posses during special guard duty at various points throughout the city was similar to that of the posse at the British Council Library (see above), which in turn was similar to the fate of policemen at all various police stations scattered throughout the city. They were all murdered at their posts.

(e) Dacca Club. A number of fugitives tried to take shelter in the Dacca Club. The Military followed them into the Club and machinegunned not only the fugitives, but also all the inmates of the Club, including all the bearers. Scores of bodies were lying around the Club grounds on Saturday morning because the Military overlooked them in the clean-up of bodies which they attempted during Friday. (See paragraph 11 below).

(f) Racecourse. In the middle of the Racecourse is a Hindu Temple built about 150 years ago. The inmates of the entire compound, numbering some 50-60, were herded into a corner and machine-gunned. Their bodies still lie in a grotesque, grisly, twisted heap. The search for Hindus and Christians continues under cover of darkness and the curfew.

(g) Australian Chancery. The Chancery was of course spared this kind of tragic happening, but it so happened that a stray tracer bullet smashed through the window of my office, the phosphorus setting one of the curtains alight as it passed through. The curtain blazed away, filling the room with smoke and soot and setting alight the carpet and two armchairs. The heat of the fire caused the plastic covers of the three double neon lights in the roof to buckle and fall. All this was discovered only when we reached the office on Saturday morning, soon after the lifting of the 36-hour curfew.

11. Gunfire was heard from time to time during the whole Friday, presumably to frighten everyone well and truly off the streets and indoors, so that as few as possible would see the scores of lorry loads of bodies being carted off, presumably to a mass grave within the garden confines of the Cantonment. Large fires could be seen both during Thursday night and on Friday. Firemen who came out from the Plassey Barracks to fight these fires were cold-bloodedly shot down.

12.

In a long night of incredibly inhuman acts, the Army's most inhuman act was the way it dealt with many bustee settlements in Dacca. In these crowded tenements occupied by tens of thousands of simple, innocent poor people, the Army first set fire to the dwellings (mostly made of bamboo and thatch) with incendiary bullets and then machine-gunned the inmates down as they tried to escape from the flames --men, women and children. One such bustee area known as Tantipara (Weavers Quarter) contained a community of some 10,000 Hindu craftsmen. One inhabitant of Tantipara was an employee of the Indian Deputy High Commission. He turned up at the Indian High Commission on Saturday morning, crazed with terror and grief. Somehow he and his wife and their youngest child had managed to escape the hail of bullets and escaped in the darkness and confusion. But what had happened to their other three young children he did not know. He also said that some of the girls and young women were being taken away by the Military. He was dressed in a ragged soiled lungi (sarong), which was all he now possessed. Such tales could be multiplied a thousand fold.

13.

One of the saddest sights, as soon as the curfew lifted each day, was that of the long lines of refugees streaming out of the city in their thousands in every direction, with their meagre remaining possessions and those members of their family which had survived the holocaust, - everyone of them, particularly the poorer ones, the very picture of stunned panic, grief, misery and despair.

14.

On Friday morning 26th March, the photographer of a foreign newspaper living at the Intercontinental Hotel reported seeing a group of 10 Bengalis walking along the street. The Military accosted them. They put up their hands, but were mown down by automatic rifle fire. The photographer took the scene on his cine-camera. Presumably however he never succeeded in smuggling it out of the country. Later that day a Brigadier turned up at the Intercontinental and ordered all foreign journalists out. When asked by one journalist whether the Army was killing all civilians indiscriminately, the Brigadier gallantly said that they were not attacking women and children. (But see paragraph 12). When asked if this meant they were merely shooting all the men, the curt reply was that they were trying to reason with them.

15.

The West Pakistan Army is now a foreign occupation army in East Pakistan, no less than the Russians in Hungary, or the Chinese in Tibet. One can to some extent understand some of the ingredients that went into the formulation of their attitude, eg (a) the highly arrogant, provocative and irresponsible behaviour of many students, who without doubt deserved a sharp lesson, (b) the killing and looting carried out by militant Bengalis against West Pakistanis during the first two days of the disturbance (1-3rd March), (c) the increasingly blatant defiance of Martil Law Orders and (d) the personal humiliation of Tikka Khan soon after he arrived. When to all these ingredients is added a settled contempt by Punjabis, Pathans, etc for the "soft cowardly Bengalis", it is possible at least partially, to explain the vicious explosion of corporate anger, which, under the special personal inspiration of Tikka Khan, resulted in a savage campaign of reprisal that can only be described as genocide.

16.

On the evening of Friday 26th March the President addressed the nation. The news on the radio that morning that he had left Dacca and would be addressing the nation, not from Dacca, but from Karachi, was particularly ominous. Had there been a coup, organised by impatient elements in the Array? Had he gone over to Karachi at gunpoint? Or had he gone willingly, having himself joined the ranks of the inpatient? Not that it made any material difference either way. Not only the fact that he had gone, but particularly the clandestine manner of his going, were only too eloquent of ominous developments.

17.

His address therefore, when it came at 8 pm on 26th March, was no surprise. From East Pakistan's point of view his address was fateful on 1st March, deplorable on 6th March and far beyond the point of no return on 26th March. Once again it was a speech by a West Pakistani in West Pakistan for West Pakistan -only this time much more so. Sheikh Mujibur Rahman had made "impossible demand", had "refused to see reason", was supported by a handful of misguided collaborators, and was in fact guilty of "treason". The President therefore declared the Awami League "completely banned" ....... How the President imagined how he could get away with many of the points he made in his address before the bar of world opinion is beyond understanding. His address certainly wrote FINIS to any further truck between East and West Pakistan- at least in so far as East Pakistanis will ever be allowed to have a say in their affairs.

18.

And so ended two tragic days for East Pakistan, but particularly for Dacca. Many thousands, mostly innocent citizens, were brutally murdered in cold blood, and tens of thousands of others were subjected to extremes of terror, grief, hardship and loss of all their possessions. What the Pakistan Army did in Dacca during the long night of 25/26th March was absolutely monstrous. At any rate it could be said that Tikka Khan succeeded in justifying his appointment: the Butcher of Baluchistan added to the lustre of his laurels by earning the title of Butcher of Bengal.

19.

Thus the first fortnight of March, which saw the rise of hopes that the long cherished dream of democracy in East Pakistan might be achieved before long, was followed by the second fortnight of March, which saw those hopes suddenly and savagely shattered.

(J. L. Allen)

Deputy High Commissioner

C.C. Department of Foreign Affairs, CANBERRA                              Memo. No. 105


A letter to Queen Elizabeth

SYED NAZRUL ISLAM, ACTING PRESIDENT OF THE PEOPLE'S REPUBLIC OF BANGLADESH

MUJIBNAGAR,
April 24, 1971.

Her Majesty Elizabeth the Second, the Queen of United Kingdom and of Her other Realms and Territories, London.

Your Majesty,
Upon the proclamation of the sovereign independent People's Republic of Bangladesh on March 26, 1971 a Government with Sheikh Mujibur Rahman at its head has been established. 

A copy of the proclamation of Independence, Laws Continuance Enforcement Order and a list of Cabinet members are enclosed and marked with the letters 'A', 'B' & 'C' respectively for favour of your perusal.

The Government of Bangladesh is exercising full sovereignty and lawful authority within the territories known as East Pakistan prior to March 26, 1971 and has taken all appropriate measures to conduct the business of State in accordance with custom, usage and recognised principles of International Law.
In view of the friendly relations that traditionally exist between the fraternal people of Bangladesh and that of the United Kingdom, I request your Majesty's Government to accord immediate recognition to the People's Republic of Bangladesh. The Government of Bangladesh will be pleased to establish normal diplomatic relations and exchange envoys with a view to further strengthening the ties of friendship between our two countries.

Please accept, Excellency, the assurances of our highest consideration.

Syed Nazrul Islam, Acting President.
 
Khandakar Moshtaque Ahmed, Foreign Minister.