Art belongs to humanity, not religion, according to a quote by Rabindranath Tagore. However, such belief seems to be in danger more and more in Bangladesh today. A heated discussion about whether extreme forces are operating with impunity while creativity is routinely marginalized has been sparked by recent events.
The most alarming example unfolded in Faridpur, around 120 km from Dhaka, where a school anniversary concert featuring legendary Bangladeshi rock musician Farooq Mahfuz Anam, popularly known as James, descended into chaos. Before the artist could take the stage, a mob reportedly stormed the venue, pelting stones and throwing chairs at students and organisers. Panic spread as more than 20 people were injured, forcing the cancellation of the concert and the emergency evacuation of James and his band under security protection.
James, 61, is no fringe performer. As the frontman of Nagar Baul, he is one of Bangladesh’s most respected musicians, with songs that have crossed borders and cultures, including memorable performances in Bollywood films such as Gangster, Woh Lamhe, and Life in a… Metro. His “offence” appears to be nothing more than performing modern music in his own country.
A Stark Contrast Raises Questions
The outrage deepens when contrasted with events just 12 days earlier. On December 15, Pakistani singer Atif Aslam performed in Dhaka before thousands—peacefully, without disruption or protest. This occurred despite the country already being tense following violent unrest after the shooting of student leader Usman Hadi on December 12.
The contrast has raised uncomfortable questions. Why was one concert violently attacked while another passed without incident? Critics argue this reflects a deeper ideological bias—where cultural expression is judged not by art, but by political and religious alignment.
Extremism Beyond the Stage
Concerns about radicalisation intensified further after a powerful explosion at a madrassa in Keraniganj, on the outskirts of Dhaka. The blast damaged the building and injured four people, including women and children. During the investigation, authorities reportedly recovered chemicals and bomb-making materials from inside the premises.
The discovery sent shockwaves across civil society. Educational spaces turning into alleged centres for explosive materials has amplified fears about the direction in which the country is heading—especially when artists, minorities, and cultural institutions increasingly feel unsafe.
Culture Under Siege
Critics of the current establishment accuse it of ignoring internal extremism while focusing aggressively on external narratives, particularly anti-India rhetoric. They argue that this selective silence is costing Bangladesh its pluralistic soul—one shaped by Tagore, Nazrul, Lalon, and generations of artists who believed culture was the nation’s strongest unifier.
When musicians need security escorts, concerts resemble battlefields, and classrooms are allegedly linked to violence, the question becomes unavoidable: Who is Bangladesh safe for today?
Art does not threaten a nation. Extremism does. And history shows that when creativity is crushed, humanity follows.