The genesis of Pakistan as a state was rooted in the “Two-Nation Theory,” a construct where Muslim leaders of undivided India sought a separate homeland. Long before 1947, the Muslims of Bengal had expressed a similar desire for a distinct administrative space during the Partition of Bengal in 1905. However, that move was eventually annulled due to intense pressure from the educated liberal elite of the time—a pivotal chapter known as the Banga Bhanga Rod (Annulment of Partition).
History eventually took its course, and Pakistan emerged as an artificial state built on religious identity. Even today, the majority of Pakistanis hold onto that founding ideology with a sense of nationalistic pride. Yet, the irony lies in the journey of the people of then East Pakistan. Rejecting the hollow promises of a religion-based state, the Bengalis rallied behind the historic Six-Point program of the Father of the Nation, Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman.
This defiance culminated in a bloody and inhumane liberation war. At the cost of a staggering 30 lakh (3 million) lives, Bangladesh emerged as a sovereign nation. These martyrs did not just give their lives for a map; they died for four fundamental pillars: Nationalism, Socialism, Democracy, and Secularism.
However, the post-independence tragedy is that a significant portion of this population seems to harbor a subconscious rejection of that very sovereignty. While Pakistanis remain loyal to their state’s core philosophy, many Bengalis appear to hold a deep-seated apathy—or even hostility—toward the foundational values of their own country. Despite the Awami League delivering independence and later steering the nation through a period of unprecedented developmental success from 2008 to 2024, a structural vacuum remained.
The state failed to secure a deep-rooted ideological loyalty within its vital institutions—the bureaucracy, the judiciary, and even the armed forces. It remains a profound tragedy that material progress could not bridge the gap in national character.
This mirrors the history of Afghanistan’s transition from monarchy to socialism. The Afghan society was not ready for a progressive socialist framework; instead, they clung to religious extremism as their preferred alternative. Today, they pay a heavy price for that choice.
Unfortunately, it appears that ninety percent of our population is now infected with a similar ideological virus. When a nation begins to despise the very pillars it was built upon and disrespects the architect of its freedom, the path to redemption becomes narrow. We are witnessing a societal shift where the virus of extremism is overshadowing the spirit of 1971, and the possibility of an easy escape seems increasingly remote.
Writer: Dastagir Jahangir, Editor, The Voice
