IRENE Khan, secretary general of the international human rights watchdog Amnesty International – who was in Dhaka last week to mark the first anniversary of the military-controlled interim government’s tenure in power – came under considerable criticism when she told the press on the first day of her visit that she was neither for nor against the state of emergency prevailing in Bangladesh. Human rights defenders as well as civil society groups in the national arena rightly saw her non-committal statement as a tactic to avoid criticising the government on its abysmal human rights record in the past year. In fact, while talking to the press, Irene took great pains to point out that the practices of extrajudicial killings, illegal detentions, mass arrests, and torture, were all prevalent during the tenures of democratically elected governments of the past, which could be interpreted as toeing an apologist line for the government. In the days that followed, Irene not only met key members of the government and the army chief, General Moeen U Ahmed, but also human rights defenders and teachers of Rajshahi University who were detained and convicted for their alleged role in the August uprising of 2007 that started at Dhaka University.
   By the end of Irene’s visit, however, much of what she was saying in public and the Amnesty press release that concluded her visit was worded in considerably more critical language. For instance, while she told reporters at her concluding press conference on January 10, that she believed the state of emergency should be lifted when it is no longer needed in Bangladesh, and that this unelected government’s tenure is ‘a golden opportunity’ to push through badly needed institutional reforms, the tone and tenor of her statement and the Amnesty handout to the press is riddled with apprehensions and concerns rather than optimism.
   It is notable that Amnesty International recognises two important aspects of the military-controlled interim government’s first year in power. At the press conference on January 10, Irene observed that there was a growing sense of public disenchantment with the incumbents’ promised reforms, and while she said the expectations of this government – when it seized power – were ‘perhaps too high,’ she did not shy away from also recognising that there was a ‘creeping role’ of the army into civilian administrative duties. She also pointed out that while the government may be able to justify this increasingly apparent role of the military by pointing out that that institution has the capacity and the discipline to carry out specific functions, this is not a permanent solution to the problems the country is confronted with, and the military must, in the end, remain accountable to the civilian administration. ‘A year on, however, there is growing disenchantment with the caretaker government, stemming from uncertainty about the political future of the country, particularly about the role of the armed forces in politics, concerns about the economy, including the sharp rise in the cost of food and other essential goods, and disappointment about the slow progress of reforms,’ the memorandum submitted by Amnesty International to the ‘caretaker government’ points out. It also notably urges the ‘military leaders who played a key role in establishing the caretaker arrangements, to fully support the recommendations in the memorandum….’
   On the issue of the state of emergency the memo states, ‘Amnesty International believes that some aspects of the emergency regulations have either been framed too broadly or are being implemented in a manner in which they violate due process rights of the detainees….’
   Among the recommendations that Amnesty placed with the military-controlled interim government, are calls to uphold Bangladesh’s human rights obligations, to respect the limits that international law places on the suspension of human rights (under the state of emergency), to end arbitrary detentions and the impunity of human rights violations by security and armed forces, and to protect the freedom of expression of journalists and human rights defenders. What is notably missing is a call to the government to allow freedom of expression and speech beyond the ambit of press freedom.
   It is important to review the backdrop against which Amnesty’s calls to uphold human rights have been issued. While this government swept into power in January 2007 promising decency and accountability – a sea change in governance – in fact, any successes it may have had during its first year at the helm have been overshadowed by the human rights violations that has accompanied the state of emergency.
   According to the Dhaka-based human rights group Odhikar, between January 12, 2007 and January 10, 2008, there have been 176 extrajudicial killings by law enforcement agencies including the police, the Rapid Action Battalion, the joint forces and even the Bangladesh Navy. Odhikar’s statistics show that the Rapid Action Battalion has the worst human rights record among the law enforcers, with 88 extrajudicial killings attributed to it. One of the most gruesome extrajudicial killings was that of Choles Ritchil an adivasi leader at Tangail’s Madhupur. Ritchil was allegedly tortured for hours on end at the Kakraid army camp in the area. Family members and community leaders have reported to human rights defenders that when Ritchil’s body was returned to the family, he had nails missing from his fingers and toes, multiple bruises and cuts consistent with blade marks, and his testicles had been removed. These inhuman practices of torture have reportedly been used with numerous cases, with many victims killed in custody, and many more whose stories have gone unreported because of the chilling environment of fear that the state of emergency has imposed on the media and human rights defenders.
   Amnesty raises two important points on the issue of human rights violations by law enforcement agencies. It points out that ‘the military institutions are constituted for the purpose of national defence…the training and practices of military personnel are not designed to equip them for law enforcement duties…therefore…the risks of human rights violations increase.’ Secondly, ‘when military personnel accused of human rights crimes are investigated within the military system, the danger that they will not be held accountable is amplified, leaving civilian victims with no effective remedy.’ The Amnesty memo submitted to the government also points out that the amended Armed Police Battalion Ordinance empowers the Rapid Action Battalion with wide immunity from prosecution, which ‘institutionalises impunity and flies in the face of accountability.’
   According to human rights groups, to date, no members of the security forces have been prosecuted through the courts of law despite mounting evidence of their involvement in extrajudicial killings, torture and other forms of ill treatment of prisoners. As the government that derailed the democratic process, that endorsed such violations, promising decency and accountability ‘celebrates’ its first year in power with an SMS from the chief adviser’s office urging citizens to build a corruption and terrorism free society, it should at least allow the growing evidence of its use of torture, extra judicial killings and illegal detentions, to throw a damper on the celebrations.
   mahtabhaider@gmail.com

I love my mother’s living room. The living room looks out into the balcony, where light shimmers in through the green trees and reflects off the dewed heads of the white and pink petals of her favourite plant. The chatter of her birds streams in, a pleasing respite from the concrete jungle din of Dhaka’s streets. My mother’s living room is a good place, a god-infused place to sit in and welcome 2008’s first rays of sun light. It is a good place to take stock of my first new year in Dhaka in decades and relive my last few days in the country of my birth and the bosom of my mother’s home, in which I have returned after 20-plus years away. It is a great place to shake off the adrenaline and caffeine jitters from last night’s dancing, jamming with friends and the too frequent consumption of energy drinks. It is a wondrous place to listen to Neil Young’s Harvest and remember the thousand and one mornings waking up with my wife, and then later my wife and my son, to the melodies of a bygone, love-beaded era with the Wisconsin sun in my eyes. It is a blessed place to pick up the phone and wish my wife and son a happy New Year across the oceans, and laugh at the mental image my wife draws for me when describing how my little man, my five-year-old twin, dances with his eyes closed, with his body twisting and face smiling as if transported back to Jimi Hendrix’s sonic prayer to the guitar gods in a New York farm in 1968.
   I hang up the telephone with the laughter still deep in my throat and ‘I love you’ in my ears. I am brought back to the living room by a sharp whistle from my mother’s ‘tia’ bird. I smile as I remember all of my mother’s previous birds and other pets. Ever since I could remember, my mother has had birds, which birds competed for her attention with sometimes more exotic pets (the monkey she picked up in one of her marketing days – you cannot help but adore a woman who adopts a monkey while shopping for spinach and onions – which she unfortunately had to return due to some strong protests on the home front). At random points during the day, when her frenetic schedule allows it, she sits in the balcony and whistles at the birds, which whistles are interspersed with elocutions of ‘ma’ if the bird in question is a ‘mayna’ or a ‘tia.’ When I hear my mother whistle at her birds, I can easily forget that I am in her Gulshan apartment, in which I have never lived for more than a few days, but believe that I am living in my childhood home in our Lalmatia para.
   The mere thought of my childhood Lalmatia para home unstops the dam of images of my childhood and scenes from my childhood start reeling in the picture house in my head (in a beautifully strange Wonder Yearesque way) – its red bricks, the spiral staircase, plants everywhere, the guava tree with guavas dripping red in their core, the orchids on the balcony, my ‘nanamoni’ haggling with the fruit hawkers from the same balcony, the fabulous parties, our lives revolving around the para’s games of badminton, cricket, football and cards and adda in our home. I am grateful for the movie theater in my head, no matter how decrepit it may be, because it provides a more complete reliving of my childhood than photos, which we don’t have anyways as many photos from my childhood have been lost during our frequent moves and our families scattering to far off places. My mother’s new house may not have the magical qualities of my childhood house, but my mother’s home is the same, with aromas of her food, her cheer and her musical communications with her birds. She vibrates magic, and I am grateful for that on this first day of the New Year.
   I wanted to share about my last few days. I wanted to share about my meeting with my best friend from class 4 in Greenheralds on the dance floor at the Westin last night, a math whiz whom I used to exchange lunches with on the playground in our school in Mohammadpur. But, no, I will save that for another day as I am going to loll around and enjoy the sounds of my mother’s home on this new day. Until then, my friends, have a wonderful day.