
CONVENTIONALLY, a parliament member’s responsibilities tend to be seen in terms of scrutiny of legislation, development and constituent service. Observers talk about their formal roles. How about informal and less visible responsibilities? My collaborative research with the University of London, SOAS (2014-17), on this issue suggests that the MPs do their duties around the clock in response to the needs of their constituents. Given that no precise definition exists for the role of an MP, each member is responsible for developing an approach to his or her job that serves this constant demand. The nature of these interactions is informal, and thus social and political work for MPs are entangled. Many MPs provide aid to many people in various ways. Some people even claim that their MP roams around in disguise, dressed in an inexpensive way, so as to help without being recognised.
But we cannot take this representation for granted as if it were natural. We do not believe that representation is just what MPs feel it is; we assume that they have a commitment to try to reach out to their constituents. We’re facing a dilemma now: MPs are public representatives, but what happens when he or she is socially and culturally insensitive?
Take, for example, a massacre that took place in Nasirnagar in Brahmanbaria, Comilla, in October and November in 2016. Many newspapers reported that on 2nd November political hooligans took part in the series of violent attacks that were carried out in the Hindu localities. A rally took place over an alleged defamatory post by an ‘illiterate’ Hindu youth on Facebook even though he had apologised to the Muslims the day before by saying that his account had been hacked. It sparked the communal violence against Hindus.
Let us look at another incident. On May 13, 2016, a school headmaster was attacked by a mob that claimed the teacher had committed blasphemy against Islam. A member of the then Awami League-led parliament was accused of demanding that a serving teacher (head teacher) repeatedly ‘stand and squat holding his ears with his two hands’ (kane dhorey uth bosh kora) until he was too tired to continue and fell down. This is the most shameful and disrespectful punishment that one person can subject another to.ÌýA natural question that arises is, does the MP have the right to do what s/he did?
Those two incidents highlight the behaviour of a particular MP who was then under public scrutiny. But it also raises questions about the role of MPs in general. Roles are varied between MPs and multiple even for each one. The minister (also the local MP) visited Nasirnagar and made comments by saying that ‘it was not that serious, as one or two incidents of attack took place’.
In both cases, the then MPs’ explanations of their behaviour were that they were playing their responsibilities for greater ‘public interest’. The stories illustrate a number of important points.Ìý The first concerns how, within the Bangladeshi context, the roles and responsibilities of MPs must be understood in relation to people in their everyday lives. Structural answers about roles and responsibilities are thus confused by the actions of the MPs, who may act in ways that contradict the ideals propagated in the official discourse of public engagement.
Secondly, the MP’s claims of ‘public engagement’ were contested by local people and criticised by different groups and individuals.Ìý Such ‘counter discourses’ arose within the context of the public humiliation of different responsible citizens, including a teacher, for example.
Within this politically fraught context I am discussing a humiliated school head teacher as the ‘powerless other’. The most ethical position is not necessarily to take sides with those of our group but to identify with the ‘other’. In both cases, the MPs argued that the local vested interest groups have exaggerated the ‘simple’ issue and the media orchestrated it. When we emphasise the idealised structural roles and duties of MPs, such as scrutiny of legislation or ‘doing public service’ in constituencies, one can miss the symbolic and practical significances of stories, performance and disruptions.
While the ruling party and its allies face crises, grassroots movements are finding new ways to combine local activism with national networking, demonstrating ‘a politics of patience, constructed against the tyranny of the parliamentary system. The July-August mass uprising led by the students and the public in general toppled the Sheikh Hasina government, making the parliament defunct, with many of the 350 MPs, including the Speaker, fleeing. On August 5, 2024, the fall of the government of Sheikh Hasina teaches us how social and political relationships are performed and challenged and how MPs are viewed critically by the constituents.
The stories I have narrated are crucial for understanding an MP’s role and responsibility because it goes to the heart of the challenge of representation. Many ordinary Bangladeshis who cut across sex, religion, region, class and ethnicity told me that they do not see politics as the series of stepping stones toward the ‘achievement’ of some ambitions as politicians do. Their concern with politics is primarily survival.
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ÌýDr Zahir Ahmed is a research professor of the Department of Anthropology at the State University of New York, Buffalo, USA.