A man of multitudes and his legacy

People often ask me what he was like. It breaks my heart. It breaks my heart because I know that they will not receive the greatest gift I had in my childhood. To be in the presence of a man like Colonel Shawkat Ali was an honour, and, in the deepest meaning of the word, a privilege.

Colonel (Retd.) Shawkat Ali was the greatest man I ever met. He had kindness in his eyes and love in his heart. He lived enough for multiple lifetimes and spent every moment of it embodying the most honourable traits of the human condition.

He had humble beginnings and never forgot them. Born in Lonsing, Shariatpur in 1937, he was an exceptional student and enrolled at Dhaka University. He later joined the military, where he was praised for his abilities "even for a Bengali." He hated that. He had realised early on that something needed to be done regarding systematic oppression against Bengalis. And so, he became a conspirator.

The then Captain Shawkat found himself embroiled in a plot designed to exert political pressure against West Pakistan by seizing control of all army camps in the East. They had secured a tacit agreement from Sheikh Mujibur Rahman himself before their plans were leaked. The young captain was put on death row in the historic Agartala Case with 34 others, including Mujib.

It was in their makeshift prison in Dhaka Cantonment that Colonel Shawkat grew close to Sheikh Mujibur Rahman. Mujib Bhai, as he was affectionately called, would inspire the other inmates, being no stranger to captivity himself. Together, they sang “Dhono Dhanne Pushpe Bhora” in modified BRTC buses as they made their way to wrestle with destiny in front of a biased prosecutor. It was there that Mujib, incensed by the treatment of his countrymen, would roar to the oppressors “I will take revenge!”. He would also comfort Colonel Shawkat’s wife, who was wrestling with the idea of losing her husband. Mujib promised to bring them back. He kept his promise.

On one particular occasion, Mujib foretold what was to come – a victorious election, a refusal to concede, and a bloody war for independence. His clairvoyant confidence inspired a lifelong loyalty in Colonel Shawkat. Mujib had told him to prepare for the war, and so he did.

Eventually, that time came. In March 1971, as Pakistani army men arrived at his house to search for him, he slipped out the back door. They pointed their guns at his infant child, who survived thanks to the desperate pleas of his mother. After the officers left, Colonel Shawkat Ali reappeared to send his family to safety. And then, he disappeared again.

After a tireless 9 months, he was asked by Bangabandhu to be the first Director of Bangladesh’s Ordnance Corps. He would often recall one particular meeting with Bangabandhu in early 1975. Also present was Ziaur Rahman, who proclaimed that before any bullet would hit Bangabandhu’s body, it would have to pass through his own. After Zia left, Bangabandhu asked Colonel Shawkat “Check where the bullets have hti”. Bangabandhu knew even then that Ziaur Rahman had fallen.

On the morning of August 15th that year, Colonel Shawkat had received a phone call informing him of what had happened. Before heading out to see for himself, his wife had made him promise not to return until he avenged the murders. One of the assassins had even come to the house, gun in hand, but left when he couldn’t find the Colonel.

He would never forgive this betrayal. Colonel Shawkat was forced into retirement soon after. Unlike other military men at that time, he would not accept positions of political influence under the next government. He also made it a point to note how betrayed he felt by the Muktijoddha Sangsad, who had proclaimed Bangabandhu to be a traitor to our freedom fighters.

In response, he would start working with Muktijoddha Sanghoti Parishad. He also worked on Mashik Mukti, a pro-liberation monthly, distributed via cladestine means. He would also become an advocate of the Supreme Court, set up his own NGO, and join the Awami League. He would eventually contest the 1979 national elections.

Local legend has it that Ziaur Rahman himself had travelled to Shariatpur to garner BNP support ahead of that election. Legend has it that not even Zia was able to quell the support Colonel Shawkat had garnered in Shariatpur. I cannot comment on the veracity of these folk legends on account of being born two decades too late, but I do not doubt the believability of the statement. Such was the appeal of a man who always remembered that politicians do not have power; they merely hold power on behalf of their constituents.

No stranger to prison, Colonel Shawkat penned his first book, Karagarer Diary, in the 1980s. General Ershad had been particularly harsh on Colonel Shawkat. The strongman had not, however, considered that the Colonel had no qualms about being a prisoner of conscience. He dedicated this book to those who struggle to free people from political, social, and financial prisons.

These struggles underpinned his political ambitions. He championed progressive politics throughout his career. Ferocious and unrelenting in his convictions, Colonel Shawkat was an indefatigable, indomitable, and inspirational beacon of hope to his people. There were times as a child when I would question the structural integrity of the building we were in due to the weight of his stature.

I still see him every once in a while. He visits my dreams, as they say angels do. That is where I see him in his purest form. A white silhouette behind a large, eloquent frame, wise beyond even his own considerable years, with the wit of a charmer and a tell-tale heart. He wrestled with dictators who tried their hardest to break his spirit. They never could. Thus, his spirit lives on. A kind man - perhaps the kindest I will ever know. I miss him dearly.

The writer is the grandson of Shawkat Ali and the joint-convenor of Colonel Shawkat Ali Foundation