IN BANGLADESH, mainstream political parties have long used the naming of institutions as a way to stake their claim to history and assert ownership over the country. As a result, major public institutions often undergo cycles of naming and renaming with each change of government. In the past, this practice has also reflected acts of sycophancy — for example, when a local leader extorts money from bazaars and toll plazas, builds a small bridge over connecting canals, and proposes naming it after the local member of parliament. Yet, never before has this politics of (re)naming been as ideologically charged as it has become in post-July uprising Bangladesh.
After coming to power, the Awami League government changed the name of Zia International Airport to Hazrat Shahjalal International Airport. Our familiar leisure destination, Zia Udyan, became Chandrima Udyan, and the Maulana Bhasani Novo Theatre was renamed Bangabandhu Novo Theatre. After the fall of the authoritarian Awami League regime in August 2024, students and the public, and in some cases, even the administration itself, removed the names of the deposed prime minister Sheikh Hasina and her family members from various installations. I write this piece as a note of dissent to this particular politics of renaming. I write this piece to say that, in the name of reclaiming history from the strict grip of the Awami League, certain political forces are trying to erase women, write history along sectarian lines and undermine the history of the Liberation War of 1971.
In February, following a speech by Sheikh Hasina from her exile in India, which was widely circulated on social media, incidents at Begum Rokeya University, Rajshahi University, Khulna University, and Chittagong University have drawn particular attention. Many students at Begum Rokeya University are well known for their social and cultural engagement. This is the university of Shaheed Abu Sayeed, martyred during the July Uprising. Unhesitatingly, he embraced death with courage and tore down Sheikh Hasina’s fortress of oppression. However, a group of students, on no justified ground and with some vested interest, have demanded the university’s name be changed to Rangpur University and Begum Rokeya’s name be removed. Begum Rokeya Sakhawat Hossain (1880–1932) was a pioneering Bengali writer and social reformer who championed women’s education and rights. She founded the first school for Muslim girls in Bengal and authored the feminist classic Sultana’s Dream. Thankfully, the demand was not welcomed by the larger academic and student community at Begum Rokeya University. They are proud to carry on the legacy of Begum Rokeya.
At Rajshahi University, on the night of February 5, when male students went to a female dormitory carrying banners to remove the name of a family member of Sheikh Mujib, female students protested this aggressive act of renaming. The situation escalated into verbal abuse, slut-shaming, and even physical assault — one video circulating online shows male students throwing clothing at a female student.
Meanwhile, the controversy over renaming at Khulna University has unravelled another communal aspect of renaming. An administrative notice revealed that names of buildings and facilities honouring the deposed prime minister and her family were changed — but so were those named after martyred intellectuals and cultural icons such as Professor GC Deb, Lalon Sai, Dr Satyendranath Bose, Acharya Jagadish Chandra Bose, Jibanananda Das, Syed Nazrul Islam, Dr Alim Chowdhury, Acharya Prafulla Chandra Ray, Dr Jyotirmoy Guhathakurta, and Dr Sukh Ranjan Samaddar. The administration justified their action by claiming that no one recognised the facilities by those names and that naming small residential quarters after such figures actually diminished their honour. Whether that reasoning is acceptable is debatable — but the public narrative that has emerged is deeply unsettling for a post-uprising university administration.
The situation at Chittagong University has been even more alarming. Following a dispute over the removal of a boat symbol (the Awami League’s electoral emblem) from a women’s dormitory, verbal altercations and even physical scuffles broke out between teachers, journalists, and students. The university proctor and assistant proctor have been accused of verbally abusing female students, calling them ‘agents of the autocrat’, ‘Hasina’s lackeys’, and other misogynistic slurs. One student was accused of physically assaulting a teacher. Eventually, the university administration expelled 11 female students after an internal investigation. Serious allegations have emerged that the investigation lacked due process — at least nine students were expelled without a fair hearing; some were punished simply for writing about the incident on Facebook, not for any on-site involvement. The university’s online groups are now filled with misogynistic comments about the female students. On social media, the university’s own proctor has indirectly accused female students of engaging in ‘honey traps’. In addition, several of his moral-policing posts at different times have also resurfaced.
Let us not forget, when Sheikh Hasina was still in power, firing bullets, arresting and prosecuting protesters, it was our young women who first dared to erase her name on July 34 (August 3, 2024), in Jahangirnagar University, Bangladesh University of Textile, and Cumilla University. The female students of these universities dared to remove fascist Sheikh Hasina’s name from their dormitories, naming the dormitories after powerful women from history and announcing it publicly. Needless to say, their act of courage — and the agency it represents — has unsettled certain quarters. The political forces trying to erase these women from history are betraying the dream and aspiration for a future of Bangladesh founded on the ethos of equality and justice.
I am not suggesting that this politics of renaming in the context of public universities is something new in Bangladesh’s history. In 1999, the syndicate of Shahjalal University of Science and Technology decided to name a female dormitoryÌýJahanara Imam Hall. The local leaders of Jamat-e-Islam and its student wing, Chhatra Shibir, protested vehemently, forcing the decision to be suspended. During those protests, a Shibir activist named Abdul Munim Belal was killed by Bangladesh Rifles (now Border Guard Bangladesh) gunfire. Writers like Humayun Ahmed and Anisuzzaman went on hunger strike demanding that the dormitory be named after Jahanara Imam. The university remained closed for a long time, and in 2000, the then-president issued a stay order. The hall was renamedÌýFirst Ladies Hall.
Later, a foundation stone was laid for a sculpture to be titledÌýMother and Child of the Freedom Fighters. In January 2013, a committee was formed to construct it, but right-wing religious groups again protested under the guise of ‘local community’, arguing that sculptures or the art of public sculpture violate Islamic religious values. The project was abandoned.
On September 25, the SUST syndicate announced new names for several dormitories. Unsurprisingly, the long-promisedÌýJahanara Imam HallÌýdid not materialise. The formerÌýFirst Ladies HallÌýhas now been renamedÌýAyesha Siddiqa Hall, and the other two female dormitories are nowÌýFatimah Tuz Zahra HallÌýandÌýSumaiya Binte Khabbat Hall. A male dormitory was namedÌýGazi Burhanuddin Hall, and the international student hostelÌýM. Saifur Rahman International Hostel.
By erasing the memory of Sylhet’s rich cultural and liberation history, the SUST administration has chosen to wave the flag of another kind of politics. Sylhet is, after all, the land of 360 saints — of Shahjalal and Shah Paran. It is also the land of mystic poets and folk bards. I was born and raised here. In this land, thousands of Hindu families like mine still pray every year at the shrines of Shahjalal and Shah Paran. Sylhet is the home of Shah Abdul Karim and Radha Raman, a key organiser of our struggle for independence, Suhasini Das, liberation war commander-in-chief MAG Osmani, pioneer of women’s education Hosne Ara, martyr Jagatjyoti Das, and Ekushey Padak-winning folk artist Sushama Das. A SUST student named Rudra Sen was martyred during the July mass uprising. Yet, not one of these names — not even their own martyr’s — occurred to the SUST administration while renaming. Why has the university administration adopted such a communal naming policy? Who objected to Jahanara Imam’s name? Ayesha Siddiqa, Fatimah Tuz Zahra, and Sumaiya Binte Khabbat are undoubtedly revered figures — but what is their contribution to our region, our culture, or our history? If universities are made to appear misogynistic, anti-Liberation, and anti-Hindu, whose politics does that serve?
No uprising is ever the work of a single gender, community, or religion. The July Uprising was not led by men or people of any particular religion or political party alone. The July 36 would not have been possible without the participation of countless women, students, teachers, artists, workers, and other ordinary citizens. Moreover, the uprising was never in conflict with the Liberation War; rather, it drew its strength from the ideals of 1971. Then why are post-uprising university administrations and other government bodies now behaving in ways that serve anti-liberation, misogynistic, and communal narratives? Perhaps, intoxicated by newfound power, they are helping restore the very discourse of the fallen autocrat by establishing an environment of misogyny and communal tensions. It is now their burden to prove otherwise.
Ìý
Prapti Taposhi is a young economist and a feminist activist.
