Bangladeshi Artists Look to the Future After Student Revolution

The beginning of August marked a new age for Bangladesh after weeks of student-led protests against government corruption resulted in ex-Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina’s unceremonious resignation. While the protests initially broke out in response to controversial demographic quotas for state jobs, the impact of the government’s dissolution can be felt across communities, and for artists in particular, it may signal a loosening of restrictions on creative freedoms. From Dhaka to the Chittagong Hill Tracts, Bangladeshi artists are documenting the people’s rebellion and dreams of a restructured nation, no longer fearing harsh consequences from Hasina’s leadership. 

In early June, student protesters took to the streets to target the courts’ decision to reinstate quotas for government jobs that disproportionately favored descendants of 1971 Bangladesh Liberation War veterans. By mid-July, they evolved into a deadly revolution when anti-quota activists and students endured state-sanctioned violence and hundreds of casualties at the hands of both the police and members of the opposing Chhatra League, a student political organization under Bangladesh’s ruling party, the Awami League. 

Hasina, whose 15-year reign over Bangladesh has long been criticized for its authoritarian crackdown on dissent, press freedom, and free speech, fanned the flames by calling the activists “grandchildren of Razakars,” an offensive and pejorative term for the paramilitary forces who colluded to thwart the nation’s fight for independence from Pakistan. Coupled with her endorsements of violence against protesters, the remark was the straw that broke the camel’s back for millions of Bangladeshi civilians who succeeded in ousting Hasina from her post on August 4.

In recent weeks, many Bangladeshi artists have felt empowered to exercise free speech through their practices — from supplementing the student revolution with visual messaging to underscoring unity and compassion in the current phase of uncertainty as the nation’s interim government, headed by Mohammad Yunus, calibrates after the Parliament’s dissolution. 

Throughout Hasina’s reign, visual artists, musicians, and filmmakers have been subjected to detention and abuse alongside various journalists and critics for violating the 2018 Digital Security Act. The Bangladeshi government could punish those who spread “false information” and “propaganda” with the intention of affecting “the image or reputation of the country,” sowing a climate of self-censorship. 

Editorial cartoonist Syed Rashad Imam Tanmoy, best known as Tanmoy, told Hyperallergic that with over a decade in the profession, “the space for political cartooning in Bangladesh has diminished significantly” because of the Digital Security Act, which has since been replaced with the similarly restrictive Cybersecurity Act of 2023.

Tanmoy cited his experience of being prevented from portraying Hasina in caricature form for a publication in 2018 among other instances. He and other cartoonists have strategized creative loopholes to circumvent staunch media censorship over the years. 

“Cartoons play a key role by simplifying complex political issues into powerful and relatable imagery,” he explained, noting that creative critique “helps keep the system accountable and ensures that the voices of citizens continue to be heard.”

Tanmoy’s recent cartoons call attention to the attacks on minorities and marginalized groups in Bangladesh since the Parliament’s dissolution. Now, exhibitions devoted to political cartooning are emerging in light of the regime’s loosened grip. 

Tanmoy explained that critical art bolstered the public’s resistance to Hasina’s rule, pointing to new murals and graffiti across the capital city of Dhaka and beyond. Although the restrictions on free speech haven’t been revoked, a sense of newfound artistic freedom has stimulated wide-scale public participation in creative outlets, and murals in particular have exploded in popularity as Bangladeshis embark on rebuilding a nation they want to live and thrive in.

Dibarah Mahboob, a 34-year-old muralist based in Dhaka and member of the Fearless Collective, told Hyperallergic that there was limited opportunity for public art due to censorship and private decision-making. However, since the revolution and accompanying police brutality spread throughout the country, civilians joined forces with the protesting students, “daring to start doing things like painting on the streets,” Mahboob said.

She added that the recent collaborative mural projects have been therapeutic, creating a space for venting and connectivity after enduring and witnessing the traumas of brutality and suppression. Mahboob and collaborators Papia Sarwar Dithi, Salzar Rahman, Nazm Anwar, and Aabir Khalid put together a public Facebook event that invited anyone to come fill in the outlines of their mural design — so many people came that the mural was finished within a day and a half. 

Now, the artists are in the process of securing a wall for a large-scale piece in collaboration with the Indigenous groups of Chittagong Hill Tracts to acknowledge rights disparities for ethnic minorities coupled with the escalations in minority-related persecutions since Hasina’s exit.

“It’s an important time for their narratives to be brought to the forefront to bring basic education regarding their dehumanization and oppression,” Mahboob said. 

Nasheen Jahan Nasir, a 29-year-old architect and digital illustrator in Dhaka, underscored to Hyperallergic that illustrators and graphic designers “played a significant part in this movement, creating awareness, calling for justice, and creating posters for action.” She specifically acknowledged diasporic Bangladeshi creator Debashish Chakrabarty, who has long utilized his art practice for political awareness and produced over 100 posters for the student protests in particular.  

Part of an emerging creative activism group called the Bangladesh 2.0 Collective, Nasir explained that free poster designs have been distributed to countless people and have become a symbol of alliance with the revolution for those who were unable to freely express their opinions.

One of her illustration memorializes the experience of seeing a man with the flags of Bangladesh and Palestine scaling a pole during a mass demonstration at the Shaheed Minar national monument. In another, she calls for an end to violence against minoritized groups and implores her fellow Bangladeshis to remember “the long-held friendship between Hindu and Muslim communities.”

“As we move forward with our messages, we hope to share the posters everywhere in the city as a small but clear reminder for people to be responsible citizens and help rebuild the country,” Nasir concluded.