When hatred hangs like pollen in the air, When freedom of expression is curbed, And the State acquiesces by remaining silent, what does a conscientious writer like Taslima Nasreen do? Write, says Hiren K Bose, profiling the woman who refuses to put her pen down.

Taslima Nasreen's only parallel could be Nagib Mahfouz, the Egyptian Nobel Laureate in literature and the great philosopher Socrates. Mahfouz never bowed to threats from the fundamentalists, nor did Socrates. While the fatwa that has been issued against her by the Muslim fundamentalists of Bangladesh is being compared to khomeini‚s fatwa against Salman Rushdie. Taslima Nasreen, unlike Rushdie, has refused to apologise.
 
"I know I shall face more and more problems. But I shall continue my battle till my last breath," says 31-year-old doctor-turned-columnist-and-writer, undauntedly.
 
Growing up in a conservative Muslim society of Mymensingh, a town north of Dhaka, young Taslima Nasreen was not allowed to do many things that her elder brother did. But she believed in having her way, and obtained a medical degree in 1984. Still challenged male chauvinism.  The diatribe by the little known and fanatical outfit named Soldiers of Islam began this September. The head priests of the organisation not only announced an offer of 50,000 Takas for Taslima Nasreen‚s death, but also demanded her arrest and execution within a fortnight. Otherwise they threatened to launch a nationwide movement. These threats were not issued before a small gathering nor were they veiled in any way. They were delivered in broad daylight before a crowd of 5,000 plus. The enormity of the ghastly threat held out against her by religious fanatics takes one back to the dark days of primitive superstitions and accompanying vengeance. Her Lajja (Shame) was her fault.

The mullahs found it difficult to digest that a Muslim writer, "that too a woman," could hold her own community responsible for the plight of a Hindu family of Dhaka the young daughter of the family is raped even as their secular Muslim friends desert them---in the backlash following the Babri Masjid demolition in Ayodhay. (In Taslima Nasreen's words, "The Bharatiya Janata Party delivered up the one million Hindus of Bangladesh, bound hand and foot, to the forces of fundamentalism.")  Most of the book's contents are based on the writer's own observations over the years. Broadly speaking, the novella is a roll call of indignities heaped on a Hindu family of four, right from the time of Bangladesh's liberation.

In Lajja, Taslima Nasreen depicts the agony and pain of being a woman when hatred spreads or the virus of communalism rears its ugly visage. It's the women who suffer, who become the victims. Assaulted not only physically but also emotionally, her motherhood becomes a target. After molesting her, the goondas proclaim execution of the "honourable" pledge to save an entire generation, and by their act convert the ones to be born to their religion.  The story of the Hindu girl in Lajja is similar to the predicament of the heroine of Sadat Hasan Manto's short story, "Kali Sarwar," written in the backdrop of the partition. Every time the goondas molest her they convert her to their faith, satisfied that they have fulfilled their responsibility. At times the girl falls in the hands of Hindus, and at times sexually assaulted by the Muslims of Pakistan. At the end, the hapless girl is reduced to just a bundle of flesh. The story is a gruesome example of what religious fanaticism can do. Then what was true of Kali Salwar was repeated in 1993 Sonar Bangla in Lajja.

The question one is tempted to ask is why people are disturbed by the bitter truth brought forth by a littérateur? Lajja could have been answered by a book, but the fanatics who have no love for the written word, other than the religious tomes, declared Nasreen a Kafir. Recent history is witness that when religious fanatics feel their authority challenged, their impotence finds expression in a fatwa.
Lajja exposes the shameless religious heads in front of their faithful and also those who use religion to further their narrow political ends. More so when the self-appointed ulemas become unreasonable and forget that as women are barred from participating in the jehad so are death sentences against them contrary to the Sharia. Can freedom of expression be curbed by burning or banning of books. Manto's Thanda Gosht, Gorky's Mother and Acharya Chatursen's islam ki vish vriksha received the same fate as Nasreen's writings. Can't voice be answered by a voice, and not a steam? Are we moving towards medieval times by issuing a death sentence, a fatwa?

Taslima‚s earlier offering, Nirbachita Kalam (Selected Columns), a collection of essays for which she was promptly awarded the Ananda Purashkar in 1992, pulls out significant prescriptions from Hindu and Islamic doctrines to show how women were taught to submit to a less than human status in what is considered a just order of the world. In illustration, she refers to an incident in which a young man singes a woman's arm with a lit cigarette in a public thoroughfare, while passers by ignore her cries for help incidentally, the popularity of her book on the other side of the border, and her sympathy for the Hindus, have not been taken by kindly by her detractors, who have dubbed her an Indian agent.

Taslima's problems with the mullahs began in 1990, when her book of poems, Amar Kicchu Jae Ashey Na ( It does not matter to me), was published. The poems focused on how Islam and the sharia laws were being used to oppress and subjugate women. In fact, many of her books have been accused of propagating free sex in this highly conservative country. To this her answer is simple,  "I am not in favour of free sex or adultery. What I demand is freedom of sex from the clutches of the dominating male. The woman should have an equal right to choose her partner. And if it sounds sacrilege, I can't help it," she says flatly.

The writer's strong feminist feelings have created problems in her marital life, too. Her two marriages--to a poet and then to a journalist--were short-lived, ending in her seeking a divorce in each case. "I don't think marriage under the present laws gives any freedom to women," she emphatically declares. An atheist, her pen does not spare orthodox practices in any religion. Not only has she been threatened by the religions bigots, her medical career has also been dogged by the malicious treatment meted out by the Bangladesh Medical Association. She was forced to resign her job in a government hospital, and even though she not been formally relieved of her posting, the vacancy caused by her exit has been illegally filled up. Nasreen is of course unlucky that she is living at a time when growing economic insecurity is driving people into the arms of religious fanatics; And Bangladesh has been no exceptions to this tendency. The Khalida Zia government which banks of the support on the Jamat e Islami to retain power has been watching the drama nonchalantly. The hue and cry that emanated from conservative circles at the time of the publication of her earlier collection of essays led to the impounding of her passport and her virtual blacklisting ironically by a government presided over by a lady, Begum Khalida Zia, the woman whose husband made Bangladesh an Islamic country. She (Taslima Nasreen)  is virtually a lone crusader for rights, which is virtually heretic in any orthodox religion based society. Nobody, even if he boasts of being secular or a rationalist, comes forward openly in support of this ostracised author. Even political parties like the Awami League or Bangladesh Communist Party prefer to keep a safe distance from this firebrand.
As Taslima puts it, "I know that if they support me they will lose votes of the sectarian electorate so crucial for their victory. Even newspapers don‚t support me because they fear losing advertisements."

All are not spectators.  Voices of dissent, of sanity, are being raised by her countrymen. Poets, judges, doctors and women's organisation have come forward with support. The weekly courier echoed the sentiments thus, "A band of fanatics is hell bent to turn Bangladesh into an authoritarian state." This is probably the one country where people are being increasingly forced to speak in hushed tones when they speak of their own history and culture.  Taslima is gladdened by the voice of comradeship. For this firebrand feminist writing is a mission, and she believes in Tagore's  Jodi tor dak shune keu na ashe, tobe ekla cholo re ( If no one comes to your support, plough a lonely furrow.)

Debanair, Bombay, October-November 1993