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After a few desultory questions about the country’s political situation, I tentatively began, ‘It has been widely reported in Bangladesh that you were somehow connected with the plot to remove Mujibur Rahman from power in 1975. I had no idea how he would react or respond.
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I had been rehearsing how to ask Farooq about his role in the assassination. Soon after 5 a.m., the officers had killed Mujib and most of his family. As Farooq left the Dhaka Cantonment, he had instructed other officers and soldiers to go to the upscale residential area of Dhanmondi, where Mujib lived. Before dawn on 15 August 1975, he had led the Bengal Lancers, the army’s tank unit under his command, to disarm the Rokkhi Bahini, 1 a paramilitary force loyal to Sheikh Mujib. What he had done in the past was not in dispute.
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He had returned to Bangladesh only recently, after several years in exile in Libya. His name was Farooq Rahman, and he had been a major, and later, lieutenant colonel in the Bangladeshi army. He was part of a high stakes game, and he looked as if he was certain he would win, as if he was assured that someone important held all the cards. He looked self-assured and confident not like someone who had overwhelmingly lost the presidential poll. He sat straight on the sofa, his chest thrust forward, as if he was still in uniform. He stared at me eagerly as we spoke, curious about the notes I was taking, trying to read what I was writing in my notepad. The man I had come to interview had a thin moustache and wore gold-rimmed glasses.
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The Pathani outfit was more in tune with what men from Pakistan wore, and as I was to learn later, many Bangladeshis who had lost their loved ones during the war hated that outfit, just as they hated the slogan ‘Bangladesh Zindabad’. The man I met wore a Pathani outfit that looked out of place in a country where civilian politicians tended to wear white kurtas with black waistcoats if they belonged to the Awami League, and safari suits if they were part of the Bangladesh Nationalist Party, while working class men on the streets went about in lungis. A week earlier he had been a presidential candidate, losing by a huge margin to the eventual winner, President Hussain Muhammad Ershad. Soldiers protected his house, checking the bags and identification of all visitors. The man I was interviewing that day in Dhaka lived in a well-appointed home in Banani, a tony part of Bangladesh’s capital. During those days, I remember going with my family to the railway station with home-cooked food for Indian soldiers going to the front. I remembered the images of ten million people who had crossed the border seeking refuge in India I had collected funds for the refugees by staging a play in Bombay, as the city I grew up in was known at that time we shouted ‘ Joy Bangla’, the Bangladeshi cry for independence, for no apparent reason (10-year-old kids do such things) and we eagerly listened to the radio and read newspapers over two weeks in December, as India defeated the Pakistani army, assisting Bangladeshi Mukti Bahini forces to gain independence. Fifteen years earlier, as a schoolboy in India, I had followed its blood-splattered struggle for independence. I was a young reporter at that time, on assignment in Dhaka *, trying to figure out what had gone wrong with Bangladesh. He was bragging about it, even grinning as he spoke to me. There was no sense of remorse in his confession. PROLOGUE: THE HANGING OF SHEIKH MUJIB’S ASSASSINS little more than a quarter century ago I met a man who calmly told me how he had organized the massacre of a family. Judgement Day Epilogue Acknowledgements Appendix I Appendix II Appendix III Bibliography Endnotes Index Two Women and their Troubled Inheritance 11.
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The Assassination of a Failed Revolutionary 9. A Friend in Need: In Which India Joins the War 7. eISBN: 9789382277187 This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published.ĬONTENTS Prologue 1. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system, in any form or by any means, without permission in writing from Aleph Book Company. ALEPH BOOK COMPANY An independent publishing firm promoted by Rupa Publications Indiaįirst published in India in 2014 by Aleph Book Company 7/16 Ansari Road, Daryaganj New Delhi 110 002 Copyright © Khushwant Singh 2014 All rights reserved.