Int'l Democracy Day: Give yourself a jail break

Illustration: Shafayet Rahman

It was almost midnight on 4 August that I was still at work. A day that fear had engulfed me almost entirely. Granted, it was the deadliest day with at least 94 people killed by that hour.

The streets were dark with even the lampposts switched off. I'd witnessed the killings, the brutality and mercilessness in footage and pictures, as we covered the events amidst the swarm of incoming reports. Personally, as a woman having to take the same route home at night, I feared violation, not bullets or a mob attack.

Many nights as such passed, especially since 16 July with having to fear for life on the way to and from work, finding out my colleagues were assaulted allegedly by the then-ruling party men while on duty and having witnessed bodies dropping just outside the alleyway to my apartment and thuds of crude bombs causing us to tremble at home.

It wasn't safe anywhere, not at home and definitely not in the streets.

Yet, I had the privilege to remain indoors, at the office, while on duty. And I thought to myself this cannot be the reality, innocent students and civilians and children killed…something's got to give!

Through 5-8 August, Bangladesh did not have a leader.  We held a long baited breath. And when the new interim government was announced on 9 August, led by Nobel Laureate Dr Mohammad Yunus, there came a renewed sense of a cloud lifting overhead and a longing for spring bells to chime.

This week of September marks one month since the new government's oath-taking – promises made, measures underway and we are a half-glass full.

The relief that came with this change was due to a feeling of having been under the gun – a consistent barrier to express in words, in writing or in thoughts just how trying these times have been.

Some would say this muted heaviness dates back to 15 years ago, when the Awami League reigned in. 

That night on the 4th, I'd heard rumours that "BCL men were checking phones and no one could escape their grip alive." I was advised to be vigilant with even the content on my phone. But I'm a journalist, of course my phone has the contents of the news. Anytime my friends or relatives tried to contact me through this period, I'd just let them know I'm safe, for now and that I cannot say much over text. But no internet or telecommunication blackout or disruptions that were imposed in July could have stopped the news from surfacing. We all knew the dire severity of the situation we were facing.

I felt as though under somebody's maiming thumb, as though I were screaming under water.

During the July Revolution, when protestors screamed and roared their chants in unison demanding one thing, the fall of Sheikh Hasina, I wondered if that would erase this feeling we've all been imbued with.

What was the tangible truth behind this inkling of always being watched and never feeling safe in your own country?

Discipline and punish: The birth of the prison

Imagine yourself as an inmate who is bound to live within an enclosure. The very centre of it stretches upright like a tower. You know you are being watched by someone who's up there, scrutinizing your every move, every interaction. You imagine their eyes are steadfast, fixated on you with binoculars. And you fear, if they see you walk outside the dotted line, they might shoot you or worse.   

Such is the schema of a prison and its psyche that French philosopher and political activist Michel Foucault discusses through English philosopher and jurist Jeremy Bentham's "Panopticon".

It theorises how the tall tower from which those incarcerated are kept under constant surveillance, or so the inmates are made to believe lest they should fall out of line.

For Foucault, the "Panopticism" is about the modern mechanisms of forcing discipline and control into your very core. Institutions, such as schools, hospitals, are arranged like a prison (the Panopticon) because they enable pervasive observation of individuals and promote docility and compliance.

"All that is needed, then, is to place a supervisor in a central tower and to shut up in each cell a madman, [in each hospital] a patient, a worker or a schoolboy…He is seen, but he does not see; he is the object of information, never a subject in communication," said Foucault explaining a phenomenon that automatises and disindividualises power through state surveillance; an act he once described as a "cruel, ingenious cage."

"If the inmates are convicts, there is no danger of plot, attempt at escape, planning new crimes in future; if they are patients, there is no danger of contagion; if they are schoolchildren, there is no copying, no noise, no chatter, no waste of time; if they are workers, there are no disorders, no theft, no coalitions, no distractions to slow down the rate of work," the French philosopher highlighted the stern measures that a Panopticon is capable of exerting.

Fifteen long years under the Awami League-led government, its same regime and same leader – whom political analysts have regarded as a "dictator", a "fascist" and "autocratic" leader – drew a major semblance to that of a pre-existing Panopticon society.

2023, a snippet from an Al Jazeera interview: In the western media, there are two words frequently used to describe you [Sheikh Hasina]… "autocratic leader". But how would you describe yourself?

Hasina: Autocratic? Me?

Her response as she then claims to have brought power back to the people through establishing democracy, while mentioning the period of 1975's military regime, post assassination of 18 members of her family, including the then- president Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman.

Bangladesh is where I grew up and found my feet. I completed my education, and now embarked upon my career as a journalist during the period of Hasina's regime with a notion, engraved into my own psyche, to never speak ill of the government. Not even offer constructive criticism. Just avoid it. But how?

Spoken word, written word, Facebook post, social media sharing of posts, published media report, even a negative attitude towards this regime could have consequences of contempt, condemnation, jail, cyber laws, enforced disappearances or worse.

Researchers of an April 2024 study by the Centre for Governance Studies (CGS) found, "The DSA was wholly abused as a tool of political repression."

The month of September also marks the revamping of the Digital Security Act (DSA) when the-then government passed a new law, the Cyber Security Act (CSA) were the offences stated were the same, but the blow was somewhat softened on punishments and a number of non-bailable sections made bailable. That's it.

Not to mention, a ripple effect of the practice of presenting this government in writing or in the mind always in a positive light was a common, debilitating extent of self-censorship, or as I believe, imprisonment of the mind.

Such a culture was established and forced throughout decades of very little to zero examples for upstanding democracy and thus, marring freedom of press.

In 2021, Sheikh Hasina was named as a "predator of press freedom" by Reporters Without Borders.

Her regime showcased violation of human rights and a blatant abuse of the draconian cyber laws on anyone who dared to speak out. She was known for serving her own interests through the media by overkilling a narrative that only spoke of her and only her contribution to the development of the country, ultimately silencing the corruption behind closed doors, creating a censorship apparatus and jailing journalists arbitrarily or inciting violence against them.

So to speak, the worst outcome to any society is when an individual's autonomy and agency is threatened and they are forced to conform. A perceivable shrewd media now tamed. An expose tackled. A free spirit polluted. A daring soul executed.

The Panopticon, on the other hand, has a role of amplification; although it arranges power, although it is intended to make it more economic and more effective, it does so not for power itself, nor for the immediate salvation of a threatened society: its aim is to strengthen the social forces - to increase production, to develop the economy, spread education, raise the level of public morality; to increase and multiply, as noted by Foucault.

We cannot deny and thus, forever laud the forwarding of education, development and economy in our country.

Bits of progress made over 15 years was marred by the atrocity which was enforced under the watchful eyes of the Hasina-led government over the period of 36 bloody days of July.

Hundreds of students and civillians were killed during violence centering the quota movement protests which also left scores injured, fighting for their lives to this moment. Police exerting unlawful brutality through the use of excessive force during the protests, the then-ruling party supporters and miscreants blasting streets with reprehensible acts on innocent people, and illegitimate detainment of hundreds – every occurrence as such has been irrevocably condemned by the people and internationally.

This is what led to the entire nation of nearly 17 crore people unifying, exalting and heralding the youth who fought as front liners a war that many others before us stood defeated against.

On the occasion of the International Day of Democracy, celebrated each year on 15 September, let's take this opportunity to reinforce the importance of upholding free speech, civil liberties, and the rule of law; ensuring accountable institutions; and protecting and promoting human rights.

As for the younger generation, it is imperative that our voices continue to create a protective shield over us as we speak out on necessary reforms, press forth demands, against corruption and injustices. It is within the power of an individual to join hands with another. Going back to the Monolithic, Paleolithic and Neolithic periods of the birth of civilization, just as the early men would group to find shelter against a storm and leave traces of their inhabitance, we must leave behind our mark and we can only do so by building our own communities, brick by brick.

The storm for us seems to have passed. We mustn't lose hope in the power of the people.