There is no day in the political history of the Bengali nation more important, or more worthy of pride, than 7 March. Those who know the history of Bengalis understand that, in the true sense, Bengalis never possessed an independent state of their own. On this day in 1971, the leader of the Bengalis, Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, declared before his people:

“The struggle this time is the struggle for independence; the struggle this time is the struggle for liberation.”

Bangabandhu did not become a leader through anyone’s mercy. He, his colleagues, and his followers reached that historic 7 March of 1971 through twenty-two long years of vast, honest, and self-sacrificing political struggle.

By the time Sheikh Mujibur Rahman arrived at that moment in history, he was no longer merely “Sheikh Sahib” or “Mujib Bhai” to the Bengali people. He had become Bangabandhu, the Friend of Bengal. His colleagues and the young Turks who stood beside him had themselves become figures of courage. Their history had already become a history of sacrifice, a history of bravery, and a history of devotion to the people.

Yet the bravery that defined that moment was not the bravery of the barrel of a gun, nor the bravery born of violence. It was the courage to unite a nation. It was a form of leadership grounded in knowledge and in institutions shaped by ideas rather than weapons.

The movement that ultimately reached its culmination in 1971 began much earlier. From 1948 onward, Bangabandhu and his political colleagues built a movement whose intellectual and organizational roots lay around Dhaka University and the political center at 150 Mogoltuli. Among the progressive young leaders of the Muslim League who emerged from that environment, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman stood out.

These young leaders were not merely political activists. They were deeply engaged with questions of state, society, and the future of their people. Over time their political ideologies diverged within the broad current of progressive politics. Yet at the point of sacrifice, at the point of love for the people and devotion to the country, they remained united. Their central aspiration was simple yet profound: the creation of a country for the people of Bangladesh.

The Bengali consciousness of “country” did not emerge suddenly. Across a thousand years of history, Bengalis carried out many smaller uprisings. In those rebellions one finds the marks of courage and defiance. At times these uprisings were struggles against local oppression and exploitation. At other times ruling powers dismissed the participants as mere bandits.

Yet the spirit of resistance endured.

Indeed, the modern idea of nationalism, based on language, territory, and the concept of a political nation, was advanced courageously during British rule by Bengali revolutionaries. The British labeled them “terrorists”, yet history compelled even the colonial authorities to acknowledge the scale of their resistance. The operation led by Binoy at Writers’ Building became known as the “Veranda Battle”. The lone stand of Bagha Jatin at Balasore was likewise recognized as a battle.

Under the leadership of Masterda Surya Sen, Chittagong remained free for three days. The clashes fought in the hills between his followers and British forces entered history as wars.

If one traces the continuity of Bengali resistance over centuries and observes how it evolved into nationalism during the colonial era, then Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman stands as the culminating summit of that long historical struggle. In the vast Himalayan range of Bengali political history, he is the Everest peak.

What makes the movement led by Bangabandhu particularly significant is the path through which it reached its decisive moment. The achievement of 7 March did not arise from isolated armed actions or sporadic revolts. It emerged from the unification of an entire nation and from the democratic legitimacy of a free and fair election.

Standing as the elected leader of the Bengali people, Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman declared independence before a sea of humanity.

On that day he stood at the Racecourse Ground surrounded by hundreds of thousands of unarmed people. Barely one and a half kilometers away stood the cantonment, where nearly a hundred thousand soldiers were stationed. These were the very forces against whom the declaration of independence was directed. Military helicopters circled above the crowd.

Yet in that moment the unity of the unarmed masses rendered the overwhelming military power of the state strangely powerless in the daylight.

Thus the events of 7 March elevated the leadership of Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman to a unique position in the global history of political struggle. It demonstrated that united, unarmed people could possess a power that weapons alone could not defeat.

For this reason, 7 March is not merely a milestone in Bengali history. It represents a new chapter in the political history of the world, a triumphant chapter in the history of the power of ordinary people.

Even at the height of that power, Bangabandhu articulated a remarkably generous definition of democracy. It was not a democracy defined simply by numerical majority. It was a democracy grounded in justice.

In his speech he declared:

“If anyone speaks a just truth, even if he stands alone, we shall accept it.”

Such a definition challenges the common understanding of democratic power. Majority rule must never become the right of the powerful to devour the weak. The world repeatedly witnesses how democracies can be distorted when power overwhelms justice.

Bangabandhu’s declaration on 7 March also introduced a profoundly different idea to the Indian subcontinent. The anti-colonial struggle against British rule had sought to build a modern political state. Yet the culmination of that struggle produced two countries divided along religious lines. Instead of moving forward toward a civic political future, the subcontinent stepped backward.

On 7 March, Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman offered another path. He declared the possibility of a nation-state built not upon religion, but upon language and shared culture.

Yet the spirit of that 7 March has now faded.

As I write these words today, Bangladesh is no longer constitutionally a modern nation-state in the sense envisioned by that struggle. Through the movement that followed the declaration of independence, Bengalis created a modern state. But after the assassination of Bangabandhu, carried out by forces opposed to independence and by forces that existed both outside and hidden within the struggle itself, that vision was gradually dismantled.

Today the political forces that shape the intellectual and institutional consciousness of the state scarcely acknowledge 7 March at all.

The erasure resembles the period following 15 August 1975, when systematic attempts were made to push Bangabandhu out of the national narrative. After 5 August 2024, Bangladesh appears once again to have entered such an era.

The meticulously engineered political transition of that date produced its own consolidation of power. The central figure behind that transformation, Muhammad Yunus, achieved perhaps his greatest political success by bringing together virtually every force historically opposed to Bangladesh’s independence, regardless of the different masks they wear. Through the mechanism of what has been presented as an election, the country has been drawn into a second phase of that rule.

History shows that many states have at times united scattered fundamentalist or reactionary groups under a single political umbrella. Such regimes have often endured for long periods. During those times the glorious chapters of a nation’s past become obscured. Genuine national leaders are subjected to character assassination, and efforts are made to erase them from collective memory.

Bangladesh today stands at precisely such a moment.

The people of the country can no longer truly observe 7 March. The historic house of Bangabandhu, a milestone in the story of Bengali liberation, has been demolished during the present era. Even now the ruins of that house remain symbolically “under arrest.”

And yet the Bengali of the Gangetic delta has not disappeared. The people who lose everything to the erosion of the rivers and begin their struggle again the next morning still endure. The poet captured their spirit long ago. They may burn and suffer, but they do not bow their heads.

The Bengali shaped by the ideals of Rabindranath Tagore and Kazi Nazrul Islam, the ideals that inspired Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman in his struggle to build a Bengali nation-state, has not vanished.

For them today is a day of profound realization.

The inability to observe 7 March, the destruction of Bangabandhu’s statues, and the attempt to erase his name all signify an effort to detach Bengalis from the idea of their modern state.

Bangladesh has entered a period in which fundamentalist forces, both hidden and openly declared, are increasingly uniting. Even sections of those who claim to represent the spirit of the Liberation War have become confused through the construction of a so-called pro-Liberation War political identity.

In many ways the modern forces of Bangladesh now face a period even more difficult than the years following 15 August 1975.

In 1971 the world witnessed the rise of progressive and modern political movements. Today, across many parts of the world, reactionary forces appear once again on the march.

Yet there remains reason for hope.

History shows that when societies enter periods of deep reaction, those forces often push themselves toward extremes. In doing so they also create the conditions for their own collapse.

Thus this year’s 7 March calls upon Bengalis to ignite within themselves the thunderfire of renewal and to purify themselves once again in the pursuit of modernity. Drawing inspiration from the intellectual and political traditions that shaped the decades between the 1930s and the 1960s, and aligning themselves with the progressive ideas of the contemporary world, the modern Bengali people may yet awaken again.

When they do, they may transform and ultimately defeat the forces of backwardness and blindness that now surround them.

Author: A journalist awarded the highest state honors; Editor of Sarakhon and The Present World.