When alleged rapist Shafat Ahmed and accomplice Shadman Sakif were arrested, and the former’s father brought under investigation, I had decided not to write about the rape incident that took place in a hotel in Banani. The actual rapes have, sadly, been described to some detail – and no one, but the culprits, needs to relive the barbarity of it. But what, perhaps, needs recording are the social ripples generated by the episode.

Source: hercampus. com

To accept that we are inherently flawed and biased is perhaps a first step in starting this long-overdue conversation about rape. That it had to start from this incident is, for now, an insignificant detail. However, the beginning of a nuanced discussion of rape is not in itself an insignificant detail.

From a purely analytical standpoint, the case has some important features. The victims overcame the paralysing fear of stigma and spoke out. Once they spoke out, they found public support. This will no doubt set a precedent and encourage others to come forward. Citizens have already shown their support for the young women. It is time for mass media to demonstrate how delicately they are able to handle these cases and thus encourage future victims to be candid in their quest for justice."Many of us have sighed with relief after two of the rapists/accomplices were arrested recently. With this, we also need to think about what has been achieved. Have we changed minds? And deep-rooted patriarchal views of women's appearance and mobility?

The aggrieved party also managed to find a powerful narrative that worked in their favour. The goal was not only to evoke sympathy, but also to trigger action. For example, the two victims were referred to as ‘students’ – a category that is traditionally associated with idealism and positivity. Narration of the lopsided power dynamics – both between the tormentors and the victims and their respective families – helped generate public empathy. And where law and order systems need to be pressurised into action by public opinion – these are important reminders for all.

Of course, law enforcement officers deserve credit for rounding up two of the suspects. I hope the other rapist – the now-disowned con artist and event-manager – does not disappear into the smog of misinformation and political clout (if it weren’t illegal and illiberal, I would’ve happily convened a lynch mob in this man’s honour). But the two arrests are important: especially considering that Banani police at first refused to take the plaintiffs’ case for several days. Perhaps more than the actual crimes, the thought of police kowtowing before influential quarters was what ignited a social media storm. Photos showing the alleged rapists posing for photograph(s) inside a police station further fuelled the rage.

While arresting suspects redeems the force to some extent, it is also important to hold an inquiry into if and why lodging of a case had been initially stalled. In that connection, it is also important to evaluate and improve how law enforcement officers interact with victims of violence against women. This is 2017: we cannot have troglodytes manning the posts where tortured and vulnerable women are encouraged to seek restitution.

Mainstream media responded better. First off, journalists deserve a pat on the back for (a) not naming the victims and (b) keeping the focus on the alleged rapists. Even with raids on terror dens and loss of fireman Matin, they have commendably stuck to the story. What they ought to be reprimanded, if not prosecuted for, is how they hounded victims and staked out their homes. Still, I admit that reporting was responsible; sensational details were kept out. What did seep in – the political-power overtones, methamphetamine addiction and pretty ex-wife – eventually composed important parts of the story.

It has been pointed out that the social outroar stemmed largely from a sense of institutional failure. While routinely ridiculed, social media chatter certainly buoyed this incident and forced mainstream media to follow-up the story. It was thus that the suspects’ fathers and their behind-the-scenes rescue efforts became known. And it was thus that their businesses were identified, and in a few cases, boycotted. Once Facebook users began unearthing and passing on to media inconvenient photos and connections, law enforcement activity seemed to gain momentum.

So, in a way, your Facebook post and your discussion actually helped arrest the alleged rapists. However, only so many cases can reach such a critical mass and exert pressure on authorities. In the end, there is no other recourse to investigating institutional failures.

What does need to be reiterated is a concern about the language in which all above parties discuss rape. In Bangla, we must stop describing rape as a ‘loss of honour’ or a ‘loss of virtue’. If anyone loses honour or virtue during a rape, it is undoubtedly the rapist. It is important to challenge the notion of ‘honour’ being located in a woman’s vagina. At the same time, we must not equate rape to just any form of violence. We must remember that usually rape is also about patriarchy, inter-gender power dynamics and fragile masculinity. It is about inflicting the sense of loss of honour and virtue. It is as much a psychological assault as it is a physical one.

Every account needs to repeat that: rape is not an act of sex; it is an act of violence. Therefore, conversations about it must not be romanticised, sexualised or depicted as an outcome of prevailing situations, relationships or conflicts. The idiocy of invoking revealing clothing, sexual signals, respectable hours and unsafe spaces must be forever shunned. We live in civilised society. We punish illegitimate violence. Fullstop.

Lastly, because sexual violence is so emotionally-charged, it is difficult to talk about it without the fear of being misunderstood: but girls need to be cautious. They shouldn’t have to be. But they need to be. Times have changed; men haven’t. Therefore, anything from skimming through ‘what-to-do-when’ articles to pepper sprays to basic self-defence training will help. These days there are personal safety apps for smartphones that can alert a relative, friend or police station at the tap of a finger. I hope all these things will become obsolete one day. Sadly, that day isn’t here yet.

After Jyoti Singh Pandey was raped in Delhi in 2012, a social tumult followed. Thousands upon thousands of citizens protested the language of victim-blaming and the central government’s failure to provide enough security for women. A judicial committee was set up to explore and take citizen suggestions about legal reforms that enabled speedy trials for rapists. Some 80,000 citizens were consulted before an amendment was passed to allow fast-tracking cases of violence against women.

Throughout this period, the victim was referred to only as ‘Nirbhaya’ or ‘the fearless one’.

Many of us have sighed with relief after two of the rapists/accomplices were arrested recently. With this, we also need to think about what has been achieved. Have we changed minds? And deep-rooted patriarchal views of women’s appearance and mobility? We can choose to term the arrests as marking the end to a sensational rape case. Or we can choose to see this as the beginning of a very important, candid and nuanced conversation about sexual violence.

The writer is a strategy and communications consultant.

This story was originally published by The Daily Star, Bangladesh

So, a night of absolute terror preceded the glorified Night of Power this Ramadan. And it has left Dhaka in a stupor; in a dazed state of disbelief and heartbreak. There is talk of vengeance in the air; and there is the call to patience. There are defenses of creed and vilification of entire traditions. There is evaluation of the response time and criticism of the PR spin on casualties. There are subtle attempts to claim some connection to the tragedy, by professing either geographic or personal proximity to the place, or the people involved. But what is missing is clarity. ‘Why did this happen? Why us?’

People help an injured person after gunmen attacked the Holey Artisan Café. Photo: AP

This piece was written Saturday night, so by now new developments will have been reported. Defense analysts will have speculated without end and media will have ceaselessly eulogised victims for the extra click. Claims will have been made about the alien beliefs and social standing of the attackers. Perhaps, our national response, by next week, will have been ‘business as usual’. Either way, it does not matter – because a new reality has been revealed to us, which exists and will continue to exist regardless of how we react to it. As Bangladesh mourns the victims of this attack, it must also mentally and strategically prepare for the next one.

A condemnation of the perpetrators, though socially warranted, is meaningless. It is self-serving. It is a symbolic shield against a real, unsheathed cutlass. Then again, the audience too is a victim in this and its need for venting, pontificating and consolation must not be ignored. However, this should not preclude a social response strategy, be it through community-based counterterrorism or through reclamation of traditional values.

But the other party central to staging a bloody spectacle must not be beyond reproach. Mainstream media’s performance during the night of terror has been outrageous and outstanding at the same time. Outrageous because reporters demonstrated zero professional training, no respect for tactical response preparations and little empathy for those thrust in harm’s way. What self-respecting reporter tries to interview injured policemen? What kind of a human being prioritizes ‘breaking’ hostage identities over protecting their lives? What kind of intellectual institutions don’t understand why televising security positions and tactical equipment may jeopardize security forces?

Media performance was also outstanding because reporters sensed the irrepressible public demand for inside scoops and gory details. Perhaps, this unholy interest in violence and death is universal: there is no denying that a violent spectacle on this scale is as inherently addictive as it is repulsive; that it triggers a macabre voyeurism, a certain brand of schadenfreude. Remember: when a thousand security experts mushroom all over the screens, Facebookers peddle new details and conspiracy theories and op-eds like this one start to frame and reframe the event – it is spurred on by the popular demand for meaning-making.

This is the target market for Terrorism.

The fourth wheel, so to speak, is the formal response system: comprising of researchers, strategists, intelligence agencies, anti-terrorism units and tactical equipment. Bangladeshi security forces acted with valiance. While their failure to prevent a heavily-armed squad’s entry into the heart of Dhaka may be baffling, and their initial lack of readiness criticised – there is no question that members of security forces put themselves in harm’s way when it mattered. The tragedy that transpired wasn’t from a lack of effort or dedication, but it may have been helped along by a lack of preparedness.

What may have been underwhelming was the management of information flow during this national crisis. It is strange that the media was allowed to broadcast from the scene for as long as it was. Despite the blackout, videos of trucks hauling military landing crafts were being telecast till after daybreak. On international media, there seemed to be little monitoring of or control over who was speaking for Bangladesh and in what capacity. As a result, US media, for example, managed to paint Bangladesh as ‘a failed state’, ‘right next to Pakistan’.

It is now easier to place Bangladesh in the radicalisation map and the global Islamist Terrorism narrative. Doubtless, this broad shift has its roots in geopolitics. But when was there a scenario where an attack wouldn’t be politicised? Theories will fly. Political analysts will connect it to geopolitical ambitions of larger nations. Loyalists will find anti-liberation elements in the mix. The global audience will see a natural, geographic progression in terrorist tactics. The opposition will view it as a government failure and the voyeur horde will treat it as a juicy spectacle. There are those who will take it as a loss of this city’s innocence and breakdown of family structures, and yet others who will find in it the wrath of God. Each of these views is politically inspired and contributes something to the bearers’ individual/group interests.

For some years, we have seen the ‘War on Terror’ (WOT) manual being emulated in Bangladesh, where an ‘other’ is blamed for attacks on ‘us’ and the narrators retain exclusive right to the moral highground and legitimacy by controlling the interpretations. The tactic is to fight violence with greater violence, a questionable approach even when the enemy is an outsider. But could a Muslim majority country thus deal with violent radicalism? An important clue may have been revealed when RAB announced its intention to negotiate with the gunmen at Holey Artisan Bakery, a departure from WOT response protocol.

Perhaps, academics and security strategists should revisit if the Bush-administration’s tactics are adequate or even suitable for Bangladesh. To illustrate, there are cases where a single individual was connected (or separated by a degree) on social media to both victims and alleged terrorists. It would appear that the gunmen lived and breathed much closer than we expect(ed). Their socioeconomic status, social environment and operational tactics were also markedly different from that of ‘sleeper cells’ involved in recent targeted killings. These young men didn’t travel to Dhaka from far-flung districts, only to flee once they had struck. They grew up among us. They played with us on our fields. And then, something led them to that fateful night of terror. By then, they had crossed an invisible threshold and had no demands or statements left to make. Bloodshed was the only statement. This is not a language that we understand, but the gravity of the contents is lost on no one. Also not lost is that fact that such ideologies cannot germinate without nurturing.

Bangladesh is not a fertile breeding ground for radicalism. The key word here is ‘fertile’. There is no historical resentment or unjust wars, as there are in Iraq or Afghanistan. There are no ‘infidel rulers’ or sectarian conflicts. However, there are indeed young minds ready to be molded and influenced. And there is a glaring lack of exemplary role models. There seem to be social cracks, where tender emotions are being smelted into violent hatred. This is where social response must start.

Let me end with a little story. Family sources say that when one of the boys held hostage was spared his life, he refused to leave without his two friends. He demanded that the friends too be allowed to leave, and when refused, stayed back in that inferno. In the end, he paid the price with his life; but not before setting an example of and for us all. Let this boy remind us that at the end of the day, there’s no morality without courage, and no righteousness without mercy.

The writer is a strategy and communications consultant.

This story was originally published by The Daily Star, Bangladesh

Biometrics is the science of using physical (and behavioural) features for identification purposes. The most ubiquitous biometrics we encounter is ‘the face’. Every individual has a distinct face, which is used by others to identify/ recognise him or her. Human beings also start recognising voices from the age of three months. Handwriting recognition is part of behavioural biometrics. The most versatile and reliable biometric data possibly comes from human genes.

Fingerprints were used as signature as early as the 3rd century BC in China. It wasn’t until late 17th century that Europeans learnt what the Chinese had known for centuries: fingerprints could be used for identification. In the subcontinent, British colonials demanded natives’ fingerprints on documents as early as 1858. It was later adopted as a standard practice for document endorsement. In fact, Bangladeshi rural anecdotes and literature are rife with examples of swindled, poor people who were tricked into giving their fingerprints on deeds and documents they could not read.

By the 18th century, it was known that thanks to unique physical features of humans, biometrics could provide a comprehensive identity management solution. In the nation state, community-based administration models were in decline, giving rise to the need to register and make searchable each and every citizen. French researcher Bertillion developed a short-lived method of identifying individuals through physical measurements. But his method was superseded by fingerprinting after a cousin of Charles Darwin wrote a full book about fingerprint techniques; and by the end of WW1, the science had been adopted by major militaries and law enforcement agencies of the developed world.

Since 1969, US detectives have used an ‘identikit’ (a tool that uses photos of foreheads, eyes, noses, mouths and chins) to reconstruct a face with the help of an eye witness. Biometrics thus became central to the development of criminal history and databases. In 1974, the first commercial biometric device was released. At the 1996 Olympic Games, these devices were widely used for security purposes. Today, biometrics are widely used for identification and security in offices, labs, cultural venues, VIP residences, etc.

Over the decades, three things changed with biometric imprints. First, the types and forms of biometric information, methods of data management and reliability underwent a technological transformation. Today, computer-based fingerprinting, retina scans and voice-controlled electronics are virtually infallible. Facial recognition technology is being rolled out in law enforcement and social media alike. The Japanese company NEC is working to commercially produce a patented, ear scanning technology that could provide round-the-clock surveillance and data flow from wearers.

The second change concerns the ‘meaning’ of a biometric imprint. What probably started as a personal signature gradually grew into a legal instrument and then to a mass identification and search tool. With the growing threats of cyber security and identity theft, biometric data has become at least as sensitive as our bank signatures.

Notions about the ‘ownership’ of biometric data represent the third major change. With growing computing power dedicated to biometrics, many questions have arisen: who owns biometric data? Can it be obtained without one’s knowledge or a warrant? Can it be freely replicated? Can it be used for sweeping surveillance? Can it be sold to corporations? In 2013, the USA saw a lawsuit that challenged people’s right to own their own genetic information. This all points to the need for better understanding of biometric property rights, associated privacy norms and security threats.

While it is quite foreseeable that a Bangladeshi biometrics database will become central to elections, taxation, public services, the legal process, law enforcement and health services – commerce, finances, travel and entertainment and geo-targeted advertising will not be too far behind. With biometrics-enabled, location-enabled smart devices, a steady stream of citizen data will be available to actors in the public and private sectors.

With biometrics, it is the sensitive nature of the data that raises concerns. The technology links our biological data to computer programmes. Many argue that this opens the doors to Orwellian surveillance by turning our very organs into location and activity trackers. Another grave concern is that once imprinted one’s biological features and identifiers stop belonging to him/her. Thirdly, modern technology can easily capture such imprints without the knowledge of people and there is no known safeguard against this. Fourthly, we have the issue of data security. The NSA whistleblowing incident revealed porous borders between government and corporate databases (in the case of Bangladesh, it will be going straight to corporate databases). How will these corporations use biometric data? What oversight will the government retain? What policies/directives will guide it? Given allegations of pilferage of customer data to advertisers, what safeguards have been put in place to ensure data security? How are hacking threats assessed and mitigated?

Not two weeks ago, some 70 million citizens’ fingerprints and passport information was hacked in the Philippines (BBC, April 11). The Bangladesh Bank heist also shed light on the risks of rapid digitalisation. As our commerce, our transactions, our culture, our romances and our entertainment move online, the risk of an attack will only get higher. Noting that a smart, biometric national identity card (NID) will soon be assigned to Bangladeshi citizens, one can conclude that the issue of biometric data in Bangladesh has not been resolved, it is only beginning.

Owing to low literacy, low Internet penetration, lack of Bangla informational content and invisible control of ICT opinions, Bangladesh’s digital journey is cheered on by little citizen enthusiasm. More needs to be done to inform and reassure citizens about regulation of online spaces, surveillance of social media, collection of biometric data and information security. It has also become incumbent upon corporate houses (and their regulators) to raise public awareness on how and to what end the collected data will be used. It is simply not enough and/or mature to claim that critics of biometrics or surveillance have something to hide, or are political rivals. It is high time that domestically, we expanded these discussions from the ICT sector into the mainstream. If a defense of privacy, security and online freedom is to be mounted, it has to start now.

The writer is a strategy and communications consultant.

This story was originally published by The Daily Star, Bangladesh