On my Bangladeshi identity
(if you were not invited here by me, please read this Disclaimer first)
In December 2021, while still at the Pennsylvania cabin with Sarah, I wrote the following in my journal:
“What is the loss I am so afraid of in being away from Bangladesh? I need to disentangle this mess of my identity, the country, my beliefs about duty and patriotism, my view of people who returned to live and work in Bangladesh (while having a choice to live anywhere in the world) versus others who choose to stay abroad to pursue better opportunities (while having a sufficiently comfortable life within the country). Why is my life’s meaning so intricately interlaced with Bangladesh’s path?”
Here’s my attempt at answering these questions now that my mind is a little less clouded.
I grew up in a family of activists, who devoted themselves to their community and country. My grandfather was a communist politician involved with India’s freedom movement. My father was a co-founder in the nascent environmentalist movement of the 1990s. I grew up watching him on the streets devoting himself to protecting his country’s future, and hearing about his group’s successful exploits, for example in banning plastic bags in Bangladesh decades ahead of most other countries.
I also grew up reading stories from the liberation war of 1971, and felt a sense of loss that I did not have the opportunity to fight that war and be a hero for my country. I idolized people like Sir Fazle Hasan Abed (founder of BRAC), Muhammad Yunus (founder of Grameen), Jafar Iqbal (science fiction writer and celebrity professor), and later friends like Mridul bhai, Ejaj bhai, and others who returned to the country to serve.
So it is hardly surprising that I turned out a patriot with a keen sense of duty to my country and people. One might say I am even a nationalist, since I don’t find the same inner commitment and satisfaction working for people in other countries and cultures like I do in my own country. Intellectually, I understand that national boundaries are an arbitrary human construct, and a fairly recent phenomenon at that. Still, in my heart, my Bangladeshi identity trumps almost every other identity I have. So long for being a global citizen! 🫤
I also deeply believe that Bangladesh is on a solid trajectory of growth and prosperity, albeit increasingly within a political vacuum. Just like Sir Abed and Muhammad Yunus were part of the generation that built the country back up from the ruins of war, I feel it is our generation’s responsibility to take charge now and shape our future, both economically and politically. I can’t ignore or disown the fact that I want to be a part of that story, and leave a legacy of my own, however small. So, I have ended up — for better or worse — tying my life’s meaning to the contribution I make to my country, and wearing the sacrifices made for that sake as badges of honor.
People, including friends and loved ones, have asked me why I can’t do any of this while living abroad with my family. Upon reflecting, here’s my answer: When you live abroad, you can certainly remember and treasure Bangladesh (which not too many expat Bangladeshis do, sadly, but that’s another story), and contribute back in small and meaningful ways. However, lasting legacy requires immersion and feet on the ground. While abroad, you may leave a legacy “as a Bangladeshi”, but not “on Bangladesh”.
Don’t get me wrong. I am not trying to judge anyone who leaves to pursue a more comfortable and prosperous life for themselves and their families. To each their own, for sure. I do, however, consider the path of staying/returning back to serve the country a nobler path, just like I would respect a dedicated social worker over a Wall Street banker any given day. And I must say this last part despite the obvious risks…what I respect least are those who flaunt their contributions to their home country or try to build businesses in Sub-Saharan Africa, while choosing to live a life of safety and comfort in the West. You are welcome fooling yourself, but please don’t try to fool others.
Not that my opinion or respect makes any difference to anyone’s life. But anyway. Back to wrapping up my reflection.
So if I am so committed to my Bangladeshi identity, and being a part of the Bangladesh story, why am I in the US and considering moving here? Not for comfort or safety, but simply to be a good father and husband, which is another foundational piece of my identity as well. My North Star still remains the same, and I will return to Bangladesh before long to continue my pursuit. This, here, is a detour I must take, for duty of a different kind.
