<p>In the last days of the bloody war that created this nation out of the eastern half of Pakistan in 1971, a gang of men abducted Alim Chowdhury, an eye surgeon and independence activist, from his home. Three days later, his battered body was found in a mass grave, his eyes gouged from his head.<br /><br />His killers, members of a pro-Pakistan militia, were never punished. Moulana Abdul Mannan, the man who confessed to orchestrating the killing, according to a government investigation, went on to become a cabinet minister and member of the Bangladesh parliament. He died in 2006.<br /><br />Now, 40 years after Bangladesh’s independence struggle, the government is seeking to prosecute individuals accused of atrocities like the one against Chowdhury.<br /><br />The effort has touched a raw political nerve here and illustrates a conundrum of international law: Can a country, particularly a young and poor one, fairly try its own citizens for crimes against humanity?<br /><br />Many of those accused of atrocities are not only still alive, but are also among the leading members of two of the main opposition political parties and have enjoyed long stints in power. Six men have been arrested in connection with various crimes of the era, all of them major political figures. The government hopes to try them in a tribunal of its own creation in the coming months.<br /><br />A model<br /><br />The Bangladesh tribunal is being closely watched, and its outcome could have wide implications. Developing countries whose governments have been accused of atrocities, from Sudan to Sri Lanka, have argued that international tribunals are selectively applied to poor nations and represent a new form of imperialism. A successful, fair and transparent trial in Bangladesh could be an important model, international justice experts say.<br /><br />But it will not be easy. Indeed, the whole concept of international justice rests in part on the reality that in the aftermath of a horrendous conflict, national courts are likely to be too politicised to deliver impartial justice.<br /><br />The quest for justice is particularly problematic in Bangladesh, where politics is a deeply personalised, polarising business, and almost all of the accused are political enemies of the current government, led by the Awami League’s Sheikh Hasina Wazed. <br /><br />After decades of being derided as a basket case, in Henry Kissinger’s infamous assessment, Bangladesh is enjoying a season of stability and relative prosperity. Its current government was elected in a landslide in 2008, bringing back democracy after a spell of military-backed rule. Its economy has sprung to life, growing at about 6 per cent last year. Healing the wounds of the independence era is a crucial next step, government officials say.<br /><br />Bangladesh’s government has pledged to hold fair trials and has sought the help of western governments and international officials, including Stephen Rapp, the US ambassador at large for war crimes. Rapp said Bangladesh could become a model for how to handle international crimes in a local setting.<br /><br />“We are now convinced that it would not be possible for this government to deliver justice impartially and fairly,” said Khaleda Zia, leader of the Bangladesh National Party.<br />One senior member of her party is among the accused. The rest are members of Jamaat-e-Islami, a party that supported union with Pakistan during the war of independence and created several militias that were accused of killing tens of thousands of people.<br /><br />Bangladesh was born in blood, and in many ways the cleavages opened by the war persist to this day. It has never fully reconciled the split between Pakistan loyalists and those who fought for independence. Abdur Razzaq, a senior member of Jamaat-e-Islami and a lawyer, said that it was not a crime to oppose independence.<br /><br />“It is 100 per cent correct that they were in favour of Pakistan, that they prayed to God for a united Pakistan,” he said of the members of his party who had been accused of atrocities. “But it is 100 per cent incorrect that these people were involved in war crimes.”<br /><br />Like many opposition leaders, he argued that the poisonous political atmosphere in Bangladesh made fair trails impossible, and he said that a process of reconciliation like the one in South Africa at the end of apartheid would be more appropriate for Bangladesh. But victims and their advocates scoff at that notion.<br /><br />Another complicating factor is the death penalty. The war’s victims say it is necessary to execute the guilty to ensure that they are not released by future governments.<br /><br />“You don’t know when Khaleda Zia is in power next time, will she let them all out of prison?” Shahriar Kabir, who has fought for the war crimes trials for decades, said.</p>
<p>In the last days of the bloody war that created this nation out of the eastern half of Pakistan in 1971, a gang of men abducted Alim Chowdhury, an eye surgeon and independence activist, from his home. Three days later, his battered body was found in a mass grave, his eyes gouged from his head.<br /><br />His killers, members of a pro-Pakistan militia, were never punished. Moulana Abdul Mannan, the man who confessed to orchestrating the killing, according to a government investigation, went on to become a cabinet minister and member of the Bangladesh parliament. He died in 2006.<br /><br />Now, 40 years after Bangladesh’s independence struggle, the government is seeking to prosecute individuals accused of atrocities like the one against Chowdhury.<br /><br />The effort has touched a raw political nerve here and illustrates a conundrum of international law: Can a country, particularly a young and poor one, fairly try its own citizens for crimes against humanity?<br /><br />Many of those accused of atrocities are not only still alive, but are also among the leading members of two of the main opposition political parties and have enjoyed long stints in power. Six men have been arrested in connection with various crimes of the era, all of them major political figures. The government hopes to try them in a tribunal of its own creation in the coming months.<br /><br />A model<br /><br />The Bangladesh tribunal is being closely watched, and its outcome could have wide implications. Developing countries whose governments have been accused of atrocities, from Sudan to Sri Lanka, have argued that international tribunals are selectively applied to poor nations and represent a new form of imperialism. A successful, fair and transparent trial in Bangladesh could be an important model, international justice experts say.<br /><br />But it will not be easy. Indeed, the whole concept of international justice rests in part on the reality that in the aftermath of a horrendous conflict, national courts are likely to be too politicised to deliver impartial justice.<br /><br />The quest for justice is particularly problematic in Bangladesh, where politics is a deeply personalised, polarising business, and almost all of the accused are political enemies of the current government, led by the Awami League’s Sheikh Hasina Wazed. <br /><br />After decades of being derided as a basket case, in Henry Kissinger’s infamous assessment, Bangladesh is enjoying a season of stability and relative prosperity. Its current government was elected in a landslide in 2008, bringing back democracy after a spell of military-backed rule. Its economy has sprung to life, growing at about 6 per cent last year. Healing the wounds of the independence era is a crucial next step, government officials say.<br /><br />Bangladesh’s government has pledged to hold fair trials and has sought the help of western governments and international officials, including Stephen Rapp, the US ambassador at large for war crimes. Rapp said Bangladesh could become a model for how to handle international crimes in a local setting.<br /><br />“We are now convinced that it would not be possible for this government to deliver justice impartially and fairly,” said Khaleda Zia, leader of the Bangladesh National Party.<br />One senior member of her party is among the accused. The rest are members of Jamaat-e-Islami, a party that supported union with Pakistan during the war of independence and created several militias that were accused of killing tens of thousands of people.<br /><br />Bangladesh was born in blood, and in many ways the cleavages opened by the war persist to this day. It has never fully reconciled the split between Pakistan loyalists and those who fought for independence. Abdur Razzaq, a senior member of Jamaat-e-Islami and a lawyer, said that it was not a crime to oppose independence.<br /><br />“It is 100 per cent correct that they were in favour of Pakistan, that they prayed to God for a united Pakistan,” he said of the members of his party who had been accused of atrocities. “But it is 100 per cent incorrect that these people were involved in war crimes.”<br /><br />Like many opposition leaders, he argued that the poisonous political atmosphere in Bangladesh made fair trails impossible, and he said that a process of reconciliation like the one in South Africa at the end of apartheid would be more appropriate for Bangladesh. But victims and their advocates scoff at that notion.<br /><br />Another complicating factor is the death penalty. The war’s victims say it is necessary to execute the guilty to ensure that they are not released by future governments.<br /><br />“You don’t know when Khaleda Zia is in power next time, will she let them all out of prison?” Shahriar Kabir, who has fought for the war crimes trials for decades, said.</p>