Jahanara Nuri
The Crimson Monsoon
Early rainy season’s subtle steps was felt in the hot, humid afternoon in Dhaka on August 21, 2004. Bangladesh. The sun hung low on the horizon, Shadows of people and everything around them stretched long across Dhaka’s bustling Bangabandhu Avenue. The city’s pulse beat fervently as thousands convened for the peace rally of Awami League— a party accustomed to the shadow of political strife since 1949-announced its stand against violence. Their rally was initially planned for Muktangon, the venue shifted to the broad crossroads near the Party headquarters after the permission for Muktangon was not available. The megacity’s atmosphere mirrored the rally’s intent—solemn yet resolute.
At the heart of the gathering, Sheikh Hasina, the leader of the Awami League, stood on a truck. Encircled by leaders spanning generations of the party, she addressed the crowd with a voice of steely determination, condemning terrorism and championing justice and democracy. Waves of supporters, brandishing banners and flags, cheered her on, their hope defying the precarious political climate.
At precisely 5:22 PM, the air buzzed with anticipation as Sheikh Hasina concluded her speech with the defiant cry, “Joy Bangla, Joy Bangabandhu.” “I had barely completed my speech and was going to get down from the truck when I heard a big bang and the next moment blood splashed on my body.” The ear-splitting explosion of a grenade detonated just yards from Hasina’s podium sent a cascade of shrapnel into the crowd and shattered the assembly’s energy. Chaos erupted. Screams of terror mingled with the acrid smell of gunpowder as panic swept through the sea of people, scattering them like leaves in a gale.
The Human and the Bulletproof Barrier
In a swift and seamless motion, leaders around Hasina formed a protective human shield with a singular, instinctive resolve, their outstretched arms defying the onslaught and helping her get into the car with security personnel. Time seemed to suspend; the explosion’s echo lingered in the air as shock immobilized many.
In the next 90 harrowing seconds, the relentless hail of grenades, reportedly13, unleashed a storm of destruction, Smoke and shrapnel enveloped the site. In a daring escape, encircling and guding he rto safety, Sheikh Hasina was rushed into her bulletproof SUV while her security team fired blanks to carve a path through the pandemonium.
Witnessing the Inferno:
The vehicle sped away as grenades shook the ground behind it. “I noticed a blood-stained Ivy Apa slumped in a heap on the road in front of me.” said Anisur Rahman, deputy Chief Photographer of the Daily Star. “Unthinking, like a robot, I raised my camera and took a snap of Ivy apa’s crumpled figure. My head was blank and I don’t know how I did that, probably that is how I am trained – to take photographs even when not thinking. Then I started to run, my feet slipping on thick blood flowing on the tarmac.” Said Anisur, as he also revisited, “near the AL office entrance where among others Senior member Suranjit Sengupta was standing with a stunned look” – his body soaked in blood streaming down his face.” (The Daily Star, 2018)
Sheikh Hasina’s trusted bodyguard, Lance Corporal Mahbubur Rashid who shielded Hasina with his own body and took the brunt of a grenade’s impact and Rafiqul Islam, lovingly known as “Ada Chacha,” were among the 24 who perished.
The Inferno
Amid the wreckage lay broken bodies—some lifeless, others stunned or wailing in pain, in blood pooled in the street, mingling with torn banners and scattered shoes and bottles. The injured, stunned, paralysed, voiceless. Those who could move, knelt by the fallen comrades.
This was no mere attack on a political rally—it was an assault on the soul of Bangladesh’s democracy. When the dust settled, a city mourned in haunted silence. The explosions claimed 24 lives, including Ivy Rahman, Awami League’s women’s secretary, who succumbed days later. Many hundreds were injured, many left maimed for life.
Makeshift rescue operations began—rickshaw vans and minibuses carried the wounded to hospitals. At 6:27 PM, yet another grenade exploded amid rescue operations, while stunned bystanders tried to process the horror that had unfolded.
Anger boiled over in the streets. Protesters torched vehicles, sending thick plumes of smoke spiralling into the evening sky. Police clashed with the enraged crowd, firing tear gas canisters in a desperate attempt to restore order.
In the days and years that followed, the attack was revealed to be far more sinister than initially guessed. Investigations uncovered links to Harkat-ul-Jihad al-Islami, an Al-Qaeda affiliated entity. Even more chilling was the revelation that elements within the government of the time—the BNP-Jamaat-e-Islami coalition—had facilitated the attack.
The August 21 grenade attack remains one of the darkest chapters in Bangladesh’s history, a chilling reminder of the lengths to which power-hungry factions will go to retain their grip on authority. For those who survived and the families of those who didn’t, the scars—both physical and emotional—remain a testament to the resilience of a people who refused to let terror extinguish their hopes for a better future.
The Accusation
Later that evening, Sheikh Hasina addressed the nation with unwavering resolve. BNP-led government was accused of orchestrating the attack and wilfully ignoring the escalating wave of violence. “The activities of the police,” she asserted, “prove that the government masterminded the bomb attack to kill Awami League leaders and workers, including myself.”
Her charged words sparked a maelstrom of debate, yet an undeniable truth lingered—the assault was no random act of terror. It was a meticulously planned attempt to extinguish the voice of dissent.
A Legacy of Resilience
As the smoke cleared, the Awami League emerged battered but unbowed. The events of 21 August left scars that would never fade, but they also forged a deeper resolve. The sacrifices of that day became a rallying cry, a symbol of the indomitable spirit of those who refused to bow to terror.
And Sheikh Hasina, whose life hung by a thread that fateful evening, continued her journey—a testament to courage in the face of unspeakable adversity. The devils laughed that day, but their laughter was fleeting. The voice of the people, echoing across generations, proved louder and more enduring.
1st December 2024: A Landmark High Court Verdict
The High Court’s acquittal of all accused in the August 21 Grenade Attack case on December 1, 2024, is disheartening but unsurprising to those familiar with the judiciary’s turbulence since August 5. Judicial independence has been steadily eroding under a barrage of intimidation and fear in post 5th August period.
Imagine being a High Court judge pelted with eggs in your own courtroom by BNP – affiliated lawyers, or witnessing the siege of the Chief Justice and Appellate Division’s judges by frenzied student mobs, culminating in their forced resignations. Twelve High Court judges have been sidelined—not by law but by fear, wielded by the Students Against Discrimination (SAD) Movement and tacitly endorsed by silence. Lower court judges fare no better, under the jeers and insults of BNP – affiliated prosecutors, their voices would drown out before they could deliberate.
In such an environment, justice for the victims of the August 21, 2004, state-sponsored terror attack was never a realistic hope. That day, Harkat-ul-Jihad al-Islami—an Al-Qaeda-linked, Pakistan-backed terror group—was “commissioned” by a Government that was formed by BNP’s Coalition with Jamaat-e-Islami – another radical Islami group with a legacy of genocide in 1971 Bangladesh. They did that to annihilate Awami League leaders, leaving lasting scars on the nation’s political fabric. Today’s verdict reopens those wounds of the nation.
This acquittal, like the release of terrorists such as ABT chief Jashimuddin Rahmani in 2024 highlights the perilous trajectory of Bangladesh under Dr. Yunus’s unelected, constitutionally dubious administration. Justice and democracy are crumbling under its watch.
In a nation weighed down by its troubled history, today’s ruling does more than deny justice—it foretells a grim future unless this downward spiral is confronted. There are deeper systemic issues and historical patterns that demand urgent attention.
- Weaponization of Justice
Bangladesh’s fragile democracy has often used the judicial system as a tool of political retribution. The acquittals in the August 21 case reflect both institutional intimidation and the deliberate politicization of justice. - Erosion of Accountability
This case underscores the near-total erosion of accountability for political violence. When justice is subverted in such high-profile cases, it sends a chilling message: state-sponsored crimes can occur without consequence, undermining both the judiciary and the rule of law. - International Implications
The involvement of Al-Qaeda-linked groups like Harkat-ul-Jihad al-Islami in the 2004 attack exposes a broader regional threat. The regime’s failure to hold these actors accountable not only destabilizes South Asia but also emboldens extremist elements, further disrupting the region’s fragile geopolitical balance. - Muzzling of Democratic Dissent
The systemic intimidation of the judiciary and political opposition reflects a broader strategy to silence dissent. The siege of the Chief Justice by student mobs, the marginalization of independent judges, and the politicization of prosecutorial offices are not isolated events but part of a larger plan that undermines democratic institutions and discourse, revealing an increasingly autocratic regime.
The acquittals in the August 21 Grenade Attack case highlight the fragile state of justice in Bangladesh. To reverse this, civil society, international allies, and the public must demand accountability, impartiality, and adherence to democratic principles. Without these efforts, the legacy of violence, impunity, and systemic decay threatens the nation’s future.