A new generation of Bangladeshis living in the USA took to the stage to express their solidarity with Bangladeshi bloggers in New York City. Many civil rights issues, including freedom of expression in Bangladesh, have been severely curtailed by means of killing, mutilating, threatening, kidnapping, etc. The event ‘Unslain Words: Solidarity for Bangladeshi Bloggers‘ was organized to protest against these trends andthe rise of religious fundamentalism there.

Picture of Bangladeshi Bloggers killed in 2015 — Avijit Roy, Oyasiqur Rahman Babu, Ananta Bijoy Das and Niloy Neel

Four Bangladeshi bloggers were brutally killed this year in different parts of Bangladesh. Avijit Roy on February 26th, Oyasiqur Rahman Babu on March 30th, Ananta Bijoy Das on May 12th, and Niloy Neel on August 7th. The threat is still looming over more than 70 other Bangladeshi bloggers in Bangladesh, many of whom are in hiding. Bangladeshi bloggers living abroad are also threatened. Many have stopped writing out of fear; others continue, knowing they do so at immense risk to their own lives. Those who have the means have fled the country. Others are desperately seeking an exit strategy. These successive killings and threats towards the writers have drawn a negative image of Bangladesh around the world again, after the Rana Plaza disaster in 2013.

The mindless killing of bloggers has brought widespread condemnation everywhere. Many asked the Bangladeshi authority to provide security for the bloggers, urged them to keep them safe, and demanded justice. Bangladesh Government attested some perpetrators but also advised the bloggers to tone down their rhetoric against Islam. Bangladesh Police advised them not to cross the line, to leave the country, or hide!

The reaction of the Bangladeshi community living abroad varies. Some said it was bloggers who were at fault by disrespecting the religious values of the Muslim people of Bangladesh through their writings. Others said the bloggers can express their views in a civil democratic society without fear. Whatever the view, the majority of the Bangladeshi community in the USA condemned the killing of bloggers. Religious fanatics committed hideous crimes. Some Bangladeshi organizations protested against the brutal killing. Some gave statements in the local Bangla community newspapers.

Bangladeshi new generation living abroad, especially in the USA, was perhaps not sure what to do and how to react to this kind of incident! Yet, a solidarity event was held in Brooklyn, New York, on September 16th by some non-resident Bangladeshis in collaboration with PEN America, Roulette Intermedium, and the Center for Inquiry. They expressed their solidarity for Bangladeshi bloggers through words, reading from their own literary works, from the last writings of slain bloggers, and through live music.

A good number of attendees attended the event, which was well presented. The event also provided an opportunity for attendees to support Bangladeshi authors who are at risk. The funds collected are specifically earmarked for Bangladeshi authors in need of emergency help due to extreme threats and legal, medical, or security expenses.

Solidarity with Bangladeshi Bloggers in Brooklyn NY — Unslain Words: Solidarity for Bangladeshi Bloggers

Among the Bangladeshi participants, Abeer Yusria Hoque, a Nigerian-born Bangladeshi American writer and photographer, recalled her experience with religion in her family. As she was growing up, she remembered that her sister and classmates who were learning Islamic education were not happy with the system. With time, she was losing her faith in Islamic teaching. Islam’s inheritance and witness law, Islam’s view on girls’ romantic relationships, imposing religion to mend behavior, etc., forced her to seek refuge in the verses of Sura Al Kafirun, which states, “For you is your religion, and for me is my religion.”

Aladdin Ullah, a comedian, playwright, and actor of Bangladeshi origin, recalled his struggle to fit into his parent’s Bangladeshi value versus his own American identity, his experience of visiting Bangladesh for the first time and find out a lot of cultural and religious practices that made no sense – secular Bangladesh turned into non-secular country, loud call for prayers, exploitation of children, throwing acid to women, color discrimination in American Club in Dhaka…etc. made him think, is this why Bangladesh was born in 1971?

Farah Mehreen Ahmad, a Brooklyn-based Bangladeshi writer, researcher and translator, read about a short story in three parts about coercion, domestic violence, and rape.

Javed Jahangir, a writer, essayist, and novelist, wondered about George Orwell’s answers to the question ‘Why I Write’, where Orwell told the readers that he writes because of sheer egoism, aesthetic enthusiasm, historical impulse, and political purpose. Javed finds new insights in Orwell’s reason for writing with a political purpose. Political writing is an art form of the highest purpose. The political purpose of writing may not always be appreciated, but when needed, the writing can give a boost to overcome the apprehension to achieve something great.

Tanwi Nandini Islam, a writer, multimedia artist, and business entrepreneur, read a travelogue about visiting Bangladesh. She recalled her trip to Sylhet, its indigenous people, lush greenery, rock, river, flora and fauna, etc., which contributed to her recently published book.

Anik Khan, a Brooklyn-based Bangladeshi hip-hop singer, energized the audience with his great music.

Bangladesh’s culture of violence has been a constant problem in its development. The Bangladeshi community living abroad, especially the new and second generation of Bangladeshis, can help curb that culture by showing better alternatives. This event was one example. An important aspect of the event was that it was organized jointly with non-Bangladeshi organizations. This endeavor could bring more attention to a broader audience about Bangladesh.

Hope the participating Bangladeshis will not stop there. They will continue writing about Bangladesh on blogs, newspapers, magazines, social media, etc. Words, music, drama, painting, photo, video – all can be instruments for a powerful dialogue to promote a civil society in Bangladesh from abroad.

Is it possible for any Bangladeshi organization to organize such an event where the new generation of Bangladeshis will speak their minds freely?

It was a small but important event. There were only 30-35 people – some second-generation Bangladeshi young, some first-generation adults, some men, some women – all living in New York City. They get together to remember a boy not known to them, even a few weeks ago. The boy, 13-year-old Samiul Alam Rajon, was brutally killed by a group of men in Bangladesh on July 8, 2015.

The second generation of Bangladeshis – some are as young as Rajon- met in Brooklyn to hold a vigil, demanded justice, and asked to stop the nonsensical deaths of so many innocent kids in Bangladesh and across the world.

They said what others had already said. But what was new was their presence as a second-generation Bangladeshi community. They positioned themselves as the community’s voice. They did not make a huge banner or buy newspaper and TV ads, but the effort was a good and right step.

Violence in Bangladesh is common. As mythical as it may sound, as a tolerant country, Bangladesh also condones a tremendous amount of violence. Mixed with despair and disability, fate and faith, history and heritage, police and politics, the lives of Bangladeshi people just go on with a variety of violence. On the other hand, people routinely protest against violence, demand justice, the government makes a task force, sometimes takes action, few are punished, but most of them are forgotten from the public mind, as this routine never changes.

The first generation of Bangladeshi immigrants abroad is well-acquainted with this pattern. They witness the killing of Rajons, the staging of protests, the making of promises, and the taking of steps, whether right or wrong. Time passes, and life continues. While some second-generation Bangladeshis are aware of this trend, most are not. Some can comprehend it, while most cannot. Some understand it, while most do not. However, no one wants to be a part of their prior generation’s repetitive and monotonous mindset that seems to go on forever, like an endless nightmare.

It’s not bad, but they organized a ‘Vigil for Rajon’ in Brooklyn as part of a bold dream.

Again, what they did was more important than what they said. They created an event on Facebook, invited others, communicated with their peers, asked non-Bangladeshi friends to join in, and brought a few first-generation Bangladeshis who cared. Not much was said, indeed. Everyone decently took their turn to say something – short, sharp and to the point – a rarity among Bangladeshi society.

They circled the Church-McDonald Avenue crossing—where many Bangladeshis meet, mingle, gossip, chit-chat, live, and work in Brooklyn—with vigil and slogan. They were not just there to say that they gathered only for Rajon’s in Bangladesh; indeed, they were there to tell that they care for the community they belong to and the country their parents came from, and want to act with resilience and responsibility.

This second-generation Bangladeshi initiative seemed isolated, as there was less enthusiasm among the local Bangladeshi people. They reacted with cautious curiosity and passed by as evasive onlookers. From a nearby mosque, more Bangladeshi Muslims came out after prayer, none stopped by to ask about the event or to attend the Vigil for Rajon!

In a sense, first- and second-generation Bangladeshis have a cultural gap outside of Bangladesh. They are connected but understand each other less. How come when Rajon’s are dying in Bangladesh, first generation Bangladeshis gave wordy statements, but none came out to support the event of young Bangladeshis! On the contrary, any establishment from Bangladesh got a kind of ‘mini-humongous’ reception at airports, hotels, houses, restaurants, streets, and even at picnics. For the first generation, the first event has a clear goal, and the second has a specific ‘aim’.

Again, it is what it is. Child violence happens, people protest, leaders give statements, committees are formed, investigations are ordered, recommendations are submitted, and the outcome remains obscure! Violence happens, people protest, leaders…the cycle goes on and on until it does not end. This is what most Bangladeshis living abroad saw and take for granted. These are part of the payment for being a Bangladeshi. It is still that reality for the first generation of Bangladeshis abroad.

They can show that a better alternative is possible.

What can the second-generation Bangladeshis do? Nothing much or minimal, perhaps. They can show that a better alternative is possible: less talk, more work; less division, more unity; less shouting, more thinking; less newspapers, more books; less drama, more diversity; less popularity, more responsibility. To do this little, the second generation of Bangladeshis does not need confrontation or conversation with the prior generation. Remember Nike?

Bangladesh will not get back Rajon and many others. Still, suppose the sad demise of Rajon can give birth to some spark among the new generation of Bangladeshis to be deeply dedicated, highly motivated, and create a new breed of Bangladeshis in distant lands. In that case, the nation might not have to ask for endless forgiveness from the Rajons who are facing violence and being killed every day.

I hope those tiny lights of the vigil were meant to remember Rajon and welcome a new generation of young Bangladeshi activists living abroad.