A Bangladeshi woman and man never thought they would have to leave and seek refuge in a neighbouring country. Hunched over and struggling to walk, the burden of age is not as heavy as the agony of leaving their land, neighbours, the trees they planted, the ponds where they saw their children grow up and the sky they claimed as theirs.
This hopelessness and blank stares are captured in the powerful photo taken by Magnum Photographer Raghu Rai during the nine-month Liberation War when 10 million Bangladeshis were forced to leave their homes. They had nothing but their most essential belongings.
Raghu Rai’s photos also tell the story of how the Bangladeshi people [erstwhile East Pakistanis] lived in camps and sheltered in big pipes.
Rai’s photos also include the youth’s fight for their country and the joy of victory on 16 December.
After about 35 or 40 years, my assistant came to me and said, ‘Sir, there are a whole lot of negatives of Bangladesh and refugees from 1971.’ Then when we started to work with the negatives. It felt like we were looking at diamonds.
–Raghu Rai
With these historic photographs, the Faculty of Fine Arts of the University of Dhaka and the Durjoy Bangladesh Foundation jointly arranged an exhibition called ‘Rise of a Nation,’ which was inaugurated on 5 May. It will remain open for all until 19 May.
A book with the same title has also been published by the Durjoy Bangladesh Foundation.
“When I was assigned here by The Statesman [where I used to work] to photograph the refugees coming from Bangladesh, somewhere in my subconscious mind, maybe my childhood experience of being a refugee and walking into unknown territory came to mind.
I was photographing Bangladeshi refugees like a madman,” he told The Business Standard on Friday.
The mark of age was visible on his face; however, he still held his Fujifilm camera paired with a 16-80mm lens in his right hand while speaking.
Rai was born in 1942 in Jhang, Pakistan which was then part of the unpartitioned India. In the 1947 Partition, Rai – at the age of five – became a refugee in partitioned India.
He recalled, “I remember that our house in Jhang was a three-storey house, and in the small lane, we had two-storeyed houses on both sides of our home. Once in the middle of the night, the whole house was woken up and we went to the rooftop and discovered that several of the houses in the lane were set on fire.”
Most of the neighbours had sought refuge in Rai’s house as it had direct paths to the two adjacent buildings, and it was the perfect escape route.
“I remember very little of the time. However, the camps I saw and then walking into Indian territory, I remember this,” he added.
His past had a profound impact on his work, especially in 1971.
“Covering a war was a unique experience. I had taken several trips since August 1971 to photograph the refugees coming in [India]. I witnessed how they were living their lives, which had a lot of suffering and pain,” he said.
He continued, “Then, the last week was when the war took place and subsequently the surrender. I took pictures of the signing of the surrender paper around three feet away from them. It was a very powerful experience with a gratifying ending.”
Rai shared his thoughts on the exhibition, “It feels like, with this beautiful curation, I am perceiving my photos differently.”
Entering the gallery, the profound impact of these photos – curated by Zihan Karim – becomes palpable. The soft light and dark background, along with the black and white photos, elevate the experience. The contrast also helps in understanding the pain of the people depicted in the photographs.
“The two rooms have a total of nine pillars, which support the roof. Metaphorically, it symbolises our nine months of bloody war. Moreover, after selecting the photos, I noticed the number is 53, and then I realised this represents our 53 years of independence,” said Zihan Karim.
The poignant aspect of this journey is that most of the photos Rai took during the war were lost, except for those that were published in newspapers.
“After about 35 or 40 years, my assistant came to me and said, ‘Sir, there are a whole lot of negatives of Bangladesh and refugees from 1971.’ Then when we started to work with the negatives,” recounted Rai, “It felt like we were looking at diamonds.”
Four years ago, Durjoy Rahman, the founder of Durjoy Bangladesh Foundation, met with Rai. He expressed his desire to see the photographs from 1971.
“After seeing the photographs, it moved me beyond words because it was very personal and emotional. My mother was one of the first few female doctors, who supported the freedom fighters, thus joining the country’s Liberation War. It was also about my country and its people,” said Durjoy.
He continued, “I spoke and made a deal to acquire the photos with proper copyright signing for the next four years, with terms allowing non-commercial use.”
Throughout Ra’s illustrious career, he has documented moments in various countries around the world, including India, and worked with esteemed publications including Magnum Photos. In fact, Rai is India’s first Magnum photographer.
His lens has immortalised numerous famous personalities. Perhaps an inseparable part of his being now, even at the age of 81, he doesn’t go anywhere without his camera.
These days though, Rai enjoys experimenting with his craft.
“Nowadays, most of my time is spent resting for my physical condition. During the era of film cameras, capturing an image required extensive post-processing. Modern cameras, on the other hand, have revolutionised the world of photography. I thoroughly enjoy utilising these technological advancements,” Rai said.
When asked how artificial intelligence will affect the photography industry, he replied, “AI can enhance a photo, visualise something or even generate a write-up. You may like or dislike its creations,” adding, “However, it can’t replace reality and create genuine moments.
So, a photograph remains just that—a photograph. Nothing can replace it, although future technologies may advance it further.”
