Victory Day: Why it matters even more than ever before.

December 16th in Bangladesh is a national holiday, a Victory Day to commemorate the end of the months of atrocities under which the brutal Pakistani army had terrorised innocent civilians, women, children, and systematically killed the intellectuals of the country to purposely delay the development and rise of a nation that was to become Bangladesh. 

Hence, akin to victory celebrations globally such as VE day, the time to reflect and appreciate the sacrifice of those who had not only instigated, but finally achieved the  establishment of Bangladesh, cannot be understated. Yet, given the generational gaps that exist in society and the greater diaspora communities that not only provide economic, but also cultural revenue and cache  for Bangladesh, what does victory day say to them?

Unfortunately, the great community-led events that will surface to mark this day cannot really do justice to the learned behaviour and affiliation that one needs to truly appreciate the significance of such an event. This is something that needs a more centralised review to continue the patriotic feelings that exist from one generation to the next. 

For the Generation Z or Alpha, regardless of where they are residing in Bangladesh or their level of interest in what is happening in the the real world reality of life around them (as opposed to the mirage of social media backgrounds) what does this say to a shared heritage? 

It has not gone amiss for many a non-resident of a country that the behaviour attributes of locals often is in complete contrast to the less-forward and caffeine pumped behaviour of those whose parents instilled the behaviours of a bygone era. 

The mish mash of Bhangra and Bollywood with local Bangla rap for local consumption is a social zoo. As most peer through it, they think: no need to go to Mars, when we have this collage of confused culture in the motherland. Yet, the issue of 'normal' or accepted conservative behaviours should and is being challenged everywhere globally, but what is often not often discussed is how some of the moral prerogative is left to locals to dictate. The discussion is embarrassing for the elders who installed some rubrics in what is right in their eyes, all but diluted when their own children undertake such behaviour. 

The answer: don't judge, be quiet, we are told. Like a museum piece, don't embark on trying to emulate or stoop to their level. No wonder many NRB children get confused at seeing the confused antics. So do you want to be Bangali or not? The better question is what is it to be Bangali now?

For many of the next generation who are grappling with their own identity crisis in an often hostile Western environment, this will be a problem. No amount of Biman flights, culinary platters of home-made foods, demands to show interest in the last HSC results peppered with tutors can ever replace the human interaction that defines one's experience of a land with its culture. Yet the elders sit and wait for the obligatory respectful phone call, "Tumi phone korla na?" 

It seems somewhat unidirectional with this mantra. Call when you need something and then see me when I land. Exaggerated I know, but what this shows is the lack of insight that many of this passing generation have failed to engage in or comprehend that transactional processes rarely instill patriotic fervor. And so a deeper understanding on both sides is needed, both for acceptance and to provide support for a community often fighting fires on a number of sides, East and West!

For many non-resident Bangladeshis in the West, being of Bangladeshi heritage has been difficult to communicate to themselves, their families, never mind the host communities they try ever so hard to integrate into. This is nothing new, as all immigrant families face this, but for a minority community like Bangladeshis' from Jackson Heights to Tower Hamlets, the issue of passing on some thread to their second and third generations with the hierarchy of religion, culture, language, shared belief, often becomes harder to decipher from one generation to the next. 

Coupled with that, the regional differences often self-inflict social, economic snobbery within the community. Then this small number gets even smaller, till one not only sees Sylhet only, Chittagong only or Dhaka only, but Dhanmondi only or other street-wise communities. I will say though, Dhanmondi groups are often more inclusive, (he says with a good dose of bias and having done EDI training). No, where are you really from they ask? That is where I am really from he screams! Really?

I look at my own upbringing in the West, which from a very privileged upbringing from strong middle class roots was homogenised by the local population in the West, classed as non-White (something which I am afraid to say still continues ), thanks to a good dollop of local of racism. This has confused the dichotomy of behaviours that belie the difference between integration and assimilation.

Thanks to my father for dumping us in this socially awkward non-multicultural community, many of whom cannot spell progressive. One gets by and has to plough on, but it was unnecessary and it shows how important forward planning is, and so I make it a point to look at the wider community and environment now when I think about my own family. (Learning point to self, check if neighbours have similar knowledge of the world, if they only know only one European country and cannot name more than 10 capital cities look elsewhere.) 

In some ways our first generation forefathers were very direct. They looked at us all as Bangladeshi confused children, scared we would be too "modern". Yet, regardless of regional boundaries within the country, these first generation Bangladeshis began the healthy sprouting  of many Bangla schools. 

It is interesting, however, that although language is important, there was a much larger cultural heritage, which for many of us really made the process of going to Bangla classes tolerable, even though the teachers kept on talking about "Pisas "and "Patice " for lunch break. 

It was often difficult for many to come to terms that there are no subsidiaries of Cooper's pastry shop or Bangla Pisa Hut in the West. The Amar Boi was wafted in front of all of our faces and for a while, one could sense the deep storytelling nostalgia that our Bangla teacher tried so desperately to share with us. This would last long enough till the break time, when we went back to playing football imagining ourselves to be the next Asian David Beckham or in my case the next Thierry Henry! 

Add to this, the interesting interaction with other Asian families. For a while there was for a time a distinct undertone of melancholy and nonchalance about the Liberation War, mainly from the Pakistani establishment, middle classes, and those who were subjugated or merely perpetuating a mistaken and wholly wrong propaganda machine in the disbelief that the breakdown of East Pakistan was a plot by India. 

The fact that the Bangladesh Liberation War is considered by many to have been one of the most brutal and callous human acts in the 20th century - whereby large scale atrocities left approximately 10 million people refugees and the killing of as much as 3 million Bangladeshis - is often not well described. Pose this point to many a patriotic Pakistani-heritage individual living in the West, who were witness and in some ways complicit in the human suffering of such a cold and calculative war, then the discussion becomes about brotherhood. 

What? Yes, I know that is stupid. Quickly the human suffering gets forgotten. Why is that? It is as if some veil of denial comes over, a blip in the normal logical cognitive function  of one's neurological function stops. The information gets blatantly forgotten and one beats their chest like Tarzan to start spewing up a skewed and clearly warped perspective of the reality. 

Lack of knowledge, you say, but often it is not that the knowledge they lack needs filling, rather it is the self-belief to not appreciate the mistakes and the arrogance of guilt that comes over many. 

Similar to flat earth believers, this is an argument that is so ingrained and silly, it's best not to waste any time. So I don't! I have dinner to make or to answer the phone call  from the random person who has never called me and has somehow got my number, as I try desperately to conjure up an answer phone message tone. 

All wars are a breakdown in human civilization's  ability to respect life. Yet, time and time again, unless one has empathy for the fellow human's suffering regardless of wider political discourse, we cannot ever move forward. It takes two to tango, and sweeping up the deep seated hurt and scars which remain strong and vivid is often passed down like a family tale as a warning for all future generations. 

Unfortunately, as a NRB community now confused by the "modern" behaviour of the indigenous young ones, which as a generation is at a loss to explain to their own selves who they really are in a globalised carousel, what do we say to our own children. Well I tried with my own children and all I can say is they like the food, like the people, like the history, but don't understand the hypocrisy in the lack of understanding amongst the indigenous population as to the history they have a day off for. 

That is sad that often being at the very center of events, the true message of the sacrifice and heartache suffered by the martyrs that gave us Bangladesh is often not well understood, or is taken for granted by the very people going about their day on a national holiday. 

In the end, like so many non-resident communities, before one finds the deeper appreciation and threads of enlightenment that such a freedom was fought for, these flames are often seen burning stronger in those NRBs living thousands of miles away, as they create the memories of that promise of a golden Bangladesh. Sometimes we need our friends looking from outside to put a mirror to show to us where are we all really going.

Professor Rameen Shakur MD PhD(Cantab) FRSA FIBMS FRSPH FRSB is Professor of Genomics and Cardiovascular Medicine and Director of the Precision Health and Translational Medicine Centre, University of Brighton, UK.