BY MUHAMMAD MOHSIN IQBAL
History bears testimony that the Muslims of Bengal stood in the vanguard of the struggle which gave practical shape to the Two-Nation Theory in the Indian subcontinent. From Dhaka in 1906 to the Lahore Resolution of 1940 and then decisive elections of 1946, their political awakening, organizational strength, and electoral mandate transformed an idea into an irreversible demand. It is no exaggeration to state that without the steadfast leadership and participation of the Muslims of Bengal, the path to Pakistan would have been far more arduous and uncertain.
When the historic resolution was moved at Minto Park—now known as Iqbal Park—it was a son of Bengal, A. K. Fazlul Huq, who presented it. The resolution envisaged independent states in the Muslim-majority zones of the northwest and the east. Later, in the 1946 provincial elections, the Muslim League achieved an overwhelming victory in Bengal, thereby demonstrating that the Muslim masses of the eastern wing had placed their trust in Muhammad Ali Jinnah and his vision. The electoral triumph in Bengal was not a peripheral event; it was central to the moral and political legitimacy of Pakistan’s demand. In acknowledging the creation of Pakistan, we must therefore salute the Muslim leadership of Bengal and the common people who, in towns and villages alike, played a dignified and courageous role for their distinct geographical and political identity.
Yet, the circumstances under which Pakistan emerged were fraught with inherent structural vulnerabilities. The partition of 1947 produced a state divided by a thousand miles of hostile territory. Between West and East Pakistan stood India—an adversarial power whose leadership had never reconciled itself to the logic of partition. The geographical bifurcation was not merely an inconvenience; it was a strategic dilemma of historic proportions. Communications, defense coordination, and economic integration were rendered complex from the very outset.
It is in the nature of political movements that during the struggle for a common objective, individual and collective weaknesses are often overlooked. Differences are subordinated to destiny. But once the destination is reached and the exhilaration of triumph subsides, latent prejudices begin to surface. No society can claim complete innocence in this regard. After independence, linguistic, administrative, and economic grievances in East Pakistan gradually assumed sharper contours. The language controversy of 1948–52, culminating in the tragic events of 21 February 1952 in Dhaka, revealed that emotional integration required more than constitutional declarations. Economic disparities, whether real or perceived, deepened mistrust.
India, observing these fissures, did not remain a passive spectator. It consistently sought to interpret prejudice as permanent hatred and to convert administrative shortcomings into ideological alienation. Through propaganda, diplomatic maneuvering, and eventually overt military intervention in 1971, it added fuel to the fire. The tragedy of December 1971 was not the product of a single cause; it was the culmination of political miscalculations, internal weaknesses, external conspiracies, and the failure to forge a truly participatory federal ethos. The dismemberment of Pakistan and the emergence of Bangladesh marked one of the most painful chapters in South Asian history.
Following independence, successive regimes in Bangladesh often nurtured anti-Pakistan sentiment as an instrument of domestic consolidation. Narratives were shaped in a manner that emphasized bitterness while minimizing shared heritage. Certain political forces, aligned closely with Indian strategic interests, endeavored to widen the psychological gulf between the two peoples. For a time, it appeared that estrangement had become permanent.
Yet history is seldom linear. Over the decades, many in Bangladesh began to reassess their geopolitical position. The perception that their country risked becoming excessively dependent upon, or influenced by, Indian policy generated fresh debates within their society. Political transitions, economic aspirations, and a growing sense of national self-confidence encouraged a more nuanced view of regional relations. Gradually, the clouds of inherited hostility began to thin. Pragmatism started to replace rhetoric.
Today, circumstances are not identical to those of 1947, nor can the clock of history be turned back. Bangladesh is an independent and sovereign state, and its remarkable economic strides in recent years command respect. Pakistan, too, has traversed a complex path of trials and resilience. Yet there remains between the two peoples a reservoir of cultural affinity, linguistic echoes, shared sacrifices, and intertwined memories. The recognition of historical truths—milk separated from water, as the proverb says—has allowed a clearer understanding of where responsibility lay and how manipulation operated.
In South Asia, the metaphor of the family remains powerful. In our social tradition, the family system is resilient and enduring. At times, due to necessity or unavoidable circumstances, separation between siblings becomes inevitable. Property may be divided; households may become distinct. But blood ties are not erased by walls. Relationships experience estrangement and reconciliation, distance and rediscovery. Wisdom lies in preserving the spirit of kinship even when political realities dictate separate paths.
The “dragon” of regional rivalry has not vanished. Strategic competition, unresolved disputes, and external influences continue to shape the subcontinent. Therefore, any effort at rapprochement must proceed with prudence, clarity, and self-respect. Sentiment alone cannot guide statecraft; it must be accompanied by realism. At the same time, perpetual hostility serves neither prosperity nor stability.
The lesson of history is neither to romanticize the past nor to remain imprisoned by it. The Muslims of Bengal were co-architects of Pakistan’s birth, and their contribution deserves enduring acknowledgement. The tragedy of separation teaches the cost of neglecting grievances and underestimating external manipulation. The present moment offers an opportunity to rebuild bridges on the foundations of sovereignty, mutual respect, and non-interference.
If the spirit of brotherhood is kept awake—tempered by vigilance and guided by wisdom—then even divided households may rediscover harmony. Nations, like families, mature through suffering. The task before Pakistan and Bangladesh is not to erase history, but to learn from it, so that future generations inherit not the embers of resentment, but the light of understanding.
