Blood Cannot Be Silenced: JAMAAT-E-ISLAMI Has No Moral Claim to Speak For Bangladesh

Bangladesh, a nation forged in the crucible of unimaginable suffering and supreme sacrifice, was born on the ideals of liberty, justice, and human dignity.

Its independence in 1971 did not emerge from political convenience but from a blood-soaked struggle, where millions of Bengalis sacrificed life, limb, and family to assert that human life and national sovereignty are inviolable. Yet, over half a century later, forces like Jamaat-e-Islami dare to cloak themselves in the language of politics, democracy, and national identity while bearing the indelible stain of complicity in crimes against humanity in 1971 when we were battling for life or death to establish our own independent and sovereign homeland --Bangladesh.

I speak from the memory of my own eyes. In 1971, I witnessed the colossus massacres committed by the Pakistani army and their dire collaborators—especially the Jamaat-e-Islami-aligned Al-Badr goons. They used our sacred religion, chanting “Naray-e-Takbir! Allah-hu Akbar! Pakistan Zindabad!” while mercilessly slaughtering millions of freedom-loving Bengalis. They forbade the burial of the dead, leaving the corpses to be devoured by vultures, jackals, and dogs—a grotesque celebration of brutality. These hellish acts were not isolated excesses; they were orchestrated, systematic, and ideologically driven.

It is essential to remind ourselves, not merely for historical memory but for moral clarity, that Jamaat-e-Islami played a pivotal role in enabling the genocide of 1971. Their militias, infamously known as Razakars, Al-Badr, and Al-Shams, were central to the targeting of intellectuals, the slaughter of civilians, and the sexual terrorization of women. These were not wartime misjudgments—they were acts of democide, as defined by Professor R.J. Rummel in Death by Government: the deliberate killing of unarmed civilians by government agents or their proxies. Jamaat-e-Islami’s actions fit this definition with terrifying precision.

Yet today, we witness a disconcerting phenomenon: individuals and factions from Jamaat-e-Islami attempting to cloak themselves in political legitimacy, asserting a moral or representative voice for Bangladesh and Bangladesh’s people. They speak of democracy, nationalism, and Islamic values as if their 1971 atrocities never occurred. This is not merely historically inaccurate; it is morally indefensible. How can those who conspired with a foreign army, committed mass slaughter, and denigrated human dignity claim authority to speak for a nation born from the very blood they sought to spill?

Mahatma Gandhi once remarked, “The soul of India lives in its villages.” Similarly, the soul of Bangladesh resides in the collective memory of its people: the mothers who lost children, the fathers who lost sons, the women who endured unspeakable horrors, and the communities that bore the weight of annihilation. Jamaat-e-Islami sought to erase this soul, to replace it with fear, submission, and collaboration. Their presence in contemporary politics is a dissonant echo of past crimes, an affront to the essence of Bangladesh’s identity.

The political tactics of Jamaat-e-Islami today are dangerously manipulative. They cloak themselves in the rhetoric of religious morality, claiming to protect Islamic values or cultural heritage. Yet history teaches us that their version of morality in 1971 was grotesque. The same individuals who once carried out mass executions now attempt to sanitize their image, projecting a facade of piety. This is not political opportunism alone—it is a profound ethical violation. As George Santayana warned, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” Allowing Jamaat-e-Islami moral authority risks normalizing historical betrayal.

The psychological and social impact of allowing such voices to persist cannot be overstated. Survivors of the Liberation War—some still living among us—carry memories that no political legerdemain can erase. The presence of Jamaat-e-Islami in the political landscape is a living wound, a reminder that justice delayed is often justice denied. The International Crimes Tribunal (ICT) in Bangladesh, established to bring war criminals to account, has meticulously documented Jamaat’s atrocities: the targeted killings of intellectuals, persecution of minorities, and the organized use of sexual violence as a weapon of war. These acts are irreconcilable with any claim to moral or political authority.

To argue that Jamaat-e-Islami represents a legitimate political constituency is morally untenable. Democracy encompasses diverse voices, but it cannot be blind to ethical violations. A political system that allows perpetrators of mass atrocities to claim legitimacy erodes the very foundation of justice upon which democracy rests. Bangladesh’s democratic framework is inseparable from its Liberation War heritage of 1971. Granting moral weight to Jamaat-e-Islami inverts that framework, suggesting that the architects of death have the right to guide the living.

History offers instructive precedents. Post-World War II Germany undertook denazification to ensure perpetrators of genocide could not assume positions of authority. Rwanda’s post-genocide governance similarly separated political discourse from those implicated in mass killings. Bangladesh cannot, and should not, be an exception to this moral imperative. History has already spoken; the verdict is clear. Jamaat-e-Islami has no moral claim to represent Bangladesh or influence its national conscience.

The threat is not merely symbolic—it is existential. Narratives propagated by Jamaat-e-Islami—of victimhood, revisionism, and historical amnesia—threaten to destabilize the social fabric forged in 1971. Youth, particularly those distant from direct memories of the Liberation War, may be susceptible to manipulated narratives that cast perpetrators as victims. Intellectual vigilance, civic education, and historical literacy are indispensable. Bangladesh must reaffirm its historical truths, ensuring that the crimes of 1971 are neither forgotten nor whitewashed under the guise of political pragmatism.

Confronting Jamaat-e-Islami’s audacity to speak on behalf of Bangladesh is not merely an act of historical rectitude; it is a moral necessity. Bangladeshis owe it to their ancestors, to the martyrs of the Liberation War, and to future generations to assert that complicity in genocide disqualifies one from moral or political authority. No political expediency, no electoral calculus, no veneer of religiosity can erase the undeniable reality: Jamaat-e-Islami’s identity is inseparable from treachery, brutality, and moral bankruptcy.

Winston Churchill once observed, “The empires of the future are the empires of the mind.” Bangladesh’s future—its moral and political sovereignty—depends on the clarity of its collective conscience. A nation that allows mass murderers to speak for it has already surrendered a portion of its soul. Conversely, a nation that confronts its historical truth, upholds justice, and affirms the moral boundaries of political engagement secures the ethical foundation upon which development, harmony, and progress can flourish.

In conclusion, the moral landscape of Bangladesh is non-negotiable. The blood of 1971 cries across decades, demanding that perpetrators of atrocity, facilitators of mass slaughter, and ideological collaborators of tyranny be denied any claim to speak in the name of the nation. Jamaat-e-Islami’s voice in Bangladesh’s public life is not representative; it is a voice of moral inversion, historical denial, and enduring threat. To preserve the dignity, sovereignty, and ethical integrity of Bangladesh, society must decisively reject any such claim. The lessons of history, the demands of justice, and the conscience of a nation converge on one immutable truth: Jamaat-e-Islami, the mass murderers of 1971, possess no moral right whatsoever to speak on behalf of Bangladesh.

Written by: Anwar A. Khan 

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