Rehman Sobhan’s economic theory and Sheikh Hasina’s misrules and misdeeds

Syed Tosharaf Ali :

In the last week of April, a prominent national daily published an insightful political analysis by veteran economist Dr. Rehman Sobhan, titled “The Challenge of Building a New Political System” (Prothom Alo, 23 April 2025). The following day, a continuation of the same essay appeared under the title “The Roadmap for a New Political System.” In fact, since the original essay was lengthy, the newspaper published it in two installments under different titles.

Dr. Sobhan’s piece, apart from dealing with the past, gives special emphasis to the contemporary July uprising. While reading his analysis, I found myself searching for answers to many long-unanswered questions. That quest has given birth to this critical views.

Let us begin by revisiting a time in the recent past – the year 1961. Pakistan’s military rule had by then taken firm root, its influence reaching from the cities to the villages.

Against such a backdrop, a young economics lecturer from Dhaka University presented an important paper on Pakistan’s economy at the Islamic Academy in Dhaka. The title of the paper was “How to Build Pakistan into a Well-Knit Nation.” That young teacher was none other than today’s venerable Rehman Sobhan. It is undeniable that this paper served as one of the sparks of the autonomy movement.

A national economy has an indivisible character. If one remains conscious of this truth, one must also recognize the interrelation between the whole and its parts. Ignoring that relationship disintegrate the unity of the whole. Being a student of economics, Rehman Sobhan surely knew this well.

Yet, using statistical analysis, he advanced his Dual Economy Theory, emphasising that Pakistan was developing along two distinct economic trajectories. In doing so, he overlooked both the indivisibility of a national economy and the scientific truth that uneven development is inherent in capitalist systems. By doing so, he replaced a unifying national perspective with a narrow nationalist outlook, thus planting the seeds of division. This new crisis eventually became one that Pakistan failed to overcome.

Though Marxist by orientation, Sobhan was not, in my view, fully mature in analysing political economy from the working-class perspective. His theoretical framework did not advocate class solidarity. When he observed that Pakistan’s economic progress differed between its two wings, he took it as an anomaly. But was that not natural? When East Bengal was attached with West Pakistan to form a single state, East Bengal was little more than a rural slum – as both Governor Frederick Burrows and Jawaharlal Nehru had described it.

Burrows wanted to keep Bengal united, while Nehru believed that East Bengal should temporarily join Pakistan, and, once it became economically nonviable, it would “return home,” thus completing the Nehru Doctrine of uniting Bengal within the Indian Union. Sobhan was, in all probability, aware of this doctrine.

He also understood that capitalist development is inherently unequal. The resulting regional disparities in Pakistan’s economy, therefore, were not abnormal. The remedy, however, should have been sought through planned economic activity, not through divisive theories. Based on political experience, the real demand should have been the implementation of Sher-e-Bangla A.K. Fazlul Huq’s Lahore Resolution, which had envisaged “One Nation, Two States.”

If that path had been followed, the outcome might have been different. Political thinker Abul Mansur Ahmed later described Bangladesh’s independence as the fulfillment of the Lahore Resolution. Yet the secularist outlook prevalent among intellectuals discouraged any effort to maintain Muslim national identity.

Even Sobhan, had he interpreted the economic disparities as a symptom of capitalist contradiction, might have sought a different and more rational solution. Had a proper theoretical approach been adopted, perhaps the bloodshed of 1971 could have been avoided.

History indeed contains countless examples of sublime sacrifice in pursuit of noble causes. But when such sacrifice serves only to entrench individuals or groups in power – while the common people’s dream of a better life remains out of reach – questions must arise about the sincerity of purpose. That failure is our tragedy, the shadow of which still darkens our present and hinders our progress.

Experience should teach us that sudden political rise of individuals and the sacrifice of many from different walks of life can only bring lasting change if there exists a dedicated group of workers resolutely committed to the declared goal. Lacking such a group, Bangladesh descended into chaos. Economic restoration became difficult, law and order collapsed, and corruption and famine stole the people’s sleep. The dream of a “Golden Bengal” dissolved into thin air.

To restore control, democracy was replaced with a one-party system, the so-called “Second Revolution,” and BAKSAL was formed. The Constitution was amended, and left-leaning groups such as NAP, CPB, and the Students’ Union enthusiastically welcomed this change. But the truly devoted socialist Tajuddin Ahmad, however, had no involvement in these activities. Courageous figures like General M.A.G. Osmani and Barrister Moinul Hossain resisted the tide, preserving their moral integrity. Not everyone has the strength to swim against the current.

Let us return to Rehman Sobhan. As an experienced intellectual, he viewed the July-August uprising positively. Although neither he nor his organisation, the Centre for Policy Dialogue (CPD), were opposed to Sheikh Hasina or her government, they had strongly supported granting India the transit corridor. Yet, as the student-led mass movement intensified, Sheikh Hasina’s response – deploying law enforcement with shoot-to-kill orders – was, in Sobhan’s words, “unthinkable” and “unpardonable.”

He wrote: “Fortunately, the army did not follow the path of the police, RAB, or BGB, but defied her orders and did the right thing. Otherwise, a massacre could have occurred.” In his analysis, Sobhan attached more importance to the army’s refusal to obey orders than to the mass participation of students and citizens in the movement. He even drew parallels with similar events in 1990 and 2007, though those had been led by political parties.

But the 5 August 2024 uprising, he wrote, was primarily driven by students and the public, while political leaders fled. The UN’s involvement was crucial in persuading the army to stay neutral. Sobhan also referred to the UN Human Rights Commission’s 500-page report on the student uprising, describing it as a “reliable document.”

According to him, Sheikh Hasina’s three fraudulent elections and her regime’s economic misdeeds had devastated Bangladesh’s financial structure, especially the banking sector.

He cited a taskforce report that revealed numerous “dark sides” of that corruption. Sobhan further criticized India’s biased perspective, calling it a “distorted outlook.” His choice of words is noteworthy – phrases like “unbridled corruption of Sheikh Hasina’s intimate capitalist circle,” “election rigging,” “killings,” and “human rights violations.”

He argued that India ignored these realities while continuing to speak arbitrarily against the Yunus government, thereby undermining its own credibility.

When justice disappears, even brothers cannot live together – they part ways. This truth is proved by the creation of two states in the subcontinent, each born of blood, tears, and pain. Yet no one has presented these twin struggles (1947 and 1971) as two chapters of the same book.

In glorifying 1971, we have obscured the contributions of our earlier great leaders, while inflating the stature of smaller figures – a foolish act that could have been avoided had we placed all leaders, great and small, within the same constellation of honour. The absence of honest, courageous, and selfless intellectuals prevented that balance.

Life on this earth is short, yet there are many ways to make it meaningful. Addiction to power, like any addiction, is hard to escape. Mistakes can occur in governance – but why cling to power through killing, disappearance, and hanging of opponents? If politics ceases to serve public welfare and social transformation, then it is better to stay away from it altogether.

(The Author: Journalist, Columnist & Political Analyst)