The folly of false equivalence: Enforced disappearance and public backlash are not the same thing
While it's important to condemn any attacks on free speech and ensure the government takes necessary steps to protect it, we must also avoid false comparisons and safeguard the freedoms we fought for during the July Uprising
During the first couple of weeks following the fall of the Sheikh Hasina-regime on 5 August last year, a visual post featuring images of a number of people from different professions — deemed heroes of the July Uprising — went viral.
It read, "If you want your child to grow up to be a lawyer, pray that he becomes like Manzur Al Matin, if you want him to be a teacher, pray that he becomes like Asif Nazrul," etc. And who did the post deem worthy of emulating as a journalist? Khaled Muhiuddin, the former head of Germany-based international media outlet Deutsche Welle's Bangla department.
It did not, however, take Muhiuddin too long to lose social capital, especially after his exchange with Dr Ali Riaz, head of the constitution reform committee formed by the interim government, went viral on social media recently.
In an interview posted on Thikana News, Khaled is critical of the state of free speech in post-Hasina Bangladesh, comparing it to the repression faced by journalists under the past regime. At one point, he claims the press were able to criticise the government during the Hasina regime as well. Khaled, however, quickly backs down when Ali Riaz suggests he is batting for the "fascist regime".
While some people have suggested Khaled's line of questioning was more hyperbole than a reflection of his actual views, there is no denying that over the last few months, more and more people are becoming increasingly worried about the state of press freedom in the country.
The systematic online backlash against The Daily Star and Prothom Alo, including the virtual siege on their premises, certainly paints a very worrying picture of the state of press freedom in Bangladesh. Then you have the sacking of five journalists from Somoy TV following a 'visit' to City Group offices (the parent company of Somoy TV) by July Uprising student leaders.
In early November last year, the Editor's Council even issued a statement claiming press freedom "is still under attack from certain quarters of society despite the interim government's promises to uphold it".
By and large, the misleading comparison is also stemming from a poor understanding of what free speech or press freedom actually entails. For starters, press freedom does not protect you against criticism, it does not even protect against being branded 'supporter of a fascist regime.' It is inherently unfair and can harm your mental health, social standing and career in numerous ways.
As a journalist, you hear the whispers inside newsrooms get louder: You cannot write this because it will upset this group; you cannot write that because it will upset that group. In the past, if you had to contend with being branded as someone against 'Muktijuddher Chetona,' you now fear being branded an 'enabler of the fascist regime'. Those being branded the latter also fear having their names being associated with the numerous cases being filed against supporters of the past regime.
For many journalists, public intellectuals and people who enjoy expressing their opinions on public affairs, the euphoria that followed the fall of Hasina has certainly been dampened by these recent turn of events.
Be that as it may, a bit of circumspection is in order. While it is extremely important to express concern and push back on any attack on free speech, a comparison with a regime that pushed Bangladesh down from 111th a decade back to 165th (among 180 countries) in the World Press Freedom Index, is lazy at best, and dangerous at worst.
At this point, it is important to remember what it is that we are comparing to.
During Hasina's regime, if you wrote something on Facebook or newspapers, or said something on television or Youtube that could be deemed a criticism of the government, chances were high that there would be a knock on your door at night, and a group of people in plainclothes would drag you from your home — either never to be seen again by your family, or at least disappeared for months or even years.
Alternatively, you could face a slew of cases under the Digital Security Act and languish in prison for years under one of its non-bailable clauses. If you were speaking up from the safety of foreign shores, then be rest assured the lives of your friends and family would be turned unlivable in the hands of security agencies and ruling party goons.
If you were a journalist or editor, you could get fired or replaced for expressing views, even in private, that went against the narrative peddled by the government. Your revenue sources could be choked; your media organisation could be shut down or the owner who had your back could be replaced through a boardroom coup.
Over the past 15 years, and especially during the last decade, the Hasina-led regime had taken repression to such a height that journalists were left second-guessing each and every word they wrote or spoke. Some even grew comfortable enveloped in the warmth of self-censorship triggered by this oppressive environment. It is quite possible that some of the wariness journalists feel towards strong backlash are a hangover from years of practicing uncritical journalism.
This false equivalence between press freedom during and after the Hasina regime is certainly being triggered by certain vested groups who were among the select group of people who enjoyed the benefits being handed out by the past regime. But, by and large, the misleading comparison is also stemming from a poor understanding of what free speech or press freedom actually entails.
For starters, press freedom does not protect you against criticism, it does not even protect against being branded 'supporter of a fascist regime.' It is inherently unfair and can harm your mental health, social standing and career in numerous ways, and the state is certainly responsible for creating an environment where such 'witch-hunts' are discouraged.
But it is not 'illegal' per se, not unless it crosses into defamation territory. Free speech guarantees you safety against state repression or any unlawful action by individuals or groups for expressing your views (including inciting violence against you), but it cannot protect you against criticism and online mobs — irrespective of whether it is fair or not.
For example, over the last 15 months, we witnessed how hundreds of people got branded as 'anti-semites' for speaking up for the rights of Palestinians, losing their jobs, positions and social standing along the way. It was deeply frustrating to watch, but you could not dismiss it all off as being illegal.
As I write this, I am keenly aware of the fact that there are many grey areas in between, and it is not difficult to see how what starts as an innocuous criticism can quickly turn into a repressive environment, through an unfortunate sequence of events. It is however not my intention to condone any of the attacks on free speech currently taking place, and the government in power should take every step necessary to protect against it.
But it is equally important that we guard against false equivalence, by avoiding lazy comparisons, so that we protect the freedom that was achieved through the sacrifice of hundreds during the July Uprising.
Sometimes hyperbolic comparisons can counterintuitively create the space for free speech usurpers to push the envelope. After all, you have already called them a 'fascist,' haven't you? They might as well act like one now.
Mubin S Khan is the Deputy Editor of The Business Standard.