Faisal Mahmud 
Last week, Bangladesh’s interim government revoked eight national holidays, including two significant ones commemorating Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, the country’s first president. These include the anniversary of his historic March 7, 1971 speech and August 15, the national day of mourning for his assassination alongside most of his family in 1975.
This decision by the administration led by Muhammad Yunus, the country’s only Nobel Peace Prize laureate, was largely received positively by many citizens. Over the past 15 years, they have endured the ostentatious observance of these days under the leadership of former Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina – Rahman’s eldest daughter – who held power for an unprecedented five terms, three of which were marked by allegations of rigged elections.
However, some individuals and media outlets criticised the Yunus government’s decision. They argue that Rahman’s legacy and his role in Bangladesh’s independence from Pakistan in 1971 should not be overshadowed by his daughter’s actions during a 15-year “fascist” regime that was overthrown on August 5 this year amid a student-led revolution in which over 1,000 people lost their lives.
Prominent among those voicing this perspective is veteran Bangladeshi journalist Mahfuz Anam, editor of the country’s largest English-language newspaper, the Daily Star.
In an article titled “Hasina’s Misrule Should Not Affect Our Judgment of Bangabandhu,” Anam contended that Rahman should not be judged solely on his daughter’s “authoritarian and corrupt” rule. He notably referred to Hasina’s regime as “fascist” in what is among the first instances of a Bangladeshi newspaper of record labelling her 15-year tenure in such terms.
While Anam’s piece didn’t sugarcoat the misdeeds of either Rahman or his daughter Hasina, it did overlook Rahman’s ineffective leadership in the post-independence years, which contributed to the famine of 1974. Estimates of the death toll from starvation during this period vary, with some suggesting that as many as a million people may have died between 1974 and early 1975. Millions suffered from hunger, leading authorities to establish gruel kitchens across the country. Desperate beggars would knock on doors for rice water (bhater fan).
Discussions about Mujib’s declining popularity during those years often reference his abolition of multiparty democracy and the establishment of the one-party rule known as BAKSHAL, as well as the notorious extrajudicial killing of leftist leader Siraj Sikder. However, it was the famine – resulting from Mujib’s administrative mismanagement – that significantly eroded his support and generated resentment toward a leader who had once been celebrated as the face of Bangladesh’s liberation struggle.
Anam also failed to acknowledge that the tragic assassination of Mujib and his family did not provoke widespread public mourning at the time. The general populace was exhausted and frustrated following the famine and the oppressive one-party rule, during which he increasingly acted like a demi-god. Thus, the idea that Mujib’s legacy has been tarnished solely by his daughter’s actions is, at best, a half-truth and, at worst, entirely misleading. It was Mujib’s own actions that ultimately damaged his legacy.
Over the past 15 years, Hasina attempted to recover and solidify her father’s legacy but her approach proved counterproductive. She forcefully promoted a distorted version that solely credited Sheikh Mujib for Bangladesh’s liberation, while labelling any opposition as anti-liberation extremists. This created a suffocating political atmosphere and fuelled resentment.
Ironically, the recent student-led revolution that ousted Hasina stemmed from this very discontent. While the uprising was organic, the students possessed a keen understanding of Rahman’s flawed leadership and the historical distortions perpetuated by Hasina. They recognised the parallels between her authoritarian tendencies and her father’s post-independence rule.
Systematically dismantling the cult
Two prominent student leaders, now advisors to the interim government, have articulated nuanced perspectives on Mujib’s legacy. Nahid Islam asserted that Rahman is not a [universally] accepted “father of the nation,” across general Bangladeshis, rather a figure revered primarily by Awami League supporters. Asif Mahmud pointed to the swift destruction of Rahman’s symbols following Hasina’s removal as evidence of his contested legacy.
Vandalised bust of Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman at the ground floor of demolished Bangabandhu Museum at Dhanmondi 32. Photo: Zahidul Salim
Even before the two advisors addressed the media, another prominent student leader, Mahfuj Alam – referred to as the “mastermind” behind the revolution – indicated a shift in narrative through his Facebook activity. On October 11, Alam updated his profile picture to include five notable Bangladeshi politicians: Sher-i-Bangla AK Fazlul Haque, Hossain Shahid Sohrawardy, Abul Hasim, Jogen Mandal, and Maulana Bhashani. Three days later, he posted a status declaring, “this time, there will be a counterattack against Mujibism.” His social media actions, promoting alternative political figures, suggested a strategy to counter any future attempts by the Awami League to exploit Rahman’s legacy for political advantage.
Attempts to separate Rahman’s legacy from his daughter’s have faced criticism for their insensitivity to the current national mood. Many Bangladeshis are still grieving the thousands who died during the recent revolution, a tragedy directly linked to Hasina’s attempts to cling to power. The 1971 liberation war, while historically significant, feels distant and its narrative has been tarnished by the Awami League’s manipulative use of it. The pain of the 2024 revolution, however, is raw and immediate.
More importantly, the revolution has shattered the social capital of Mujib, Hasina and the Awami League. They are now viewed through the lens of their authoritarian tendencies, with both father and daughter’s rule ending in violence and upheaval. The public is unwilling to accept apologies or nuanced defences of their actions, especially in the immediate aftermath of the revolution. There is a strong desire for accountability and a rejection of the cult of personality that the Awami League cultivated around Rahman.
Faisal Mahmud is an award-winning journalist based in Bangladesh. He is a recipient of Jefferson Fellowship and Konrad-Adenur Stiftung Fellowship