Abstract:

This paper critically examines the controversial portrayal of post-liberation Bangladesh by Italian journalist Oriana Fallaci following her visit in February 1972. Arriving just weeks after a devastating war that claimed millions of lives and destroyed national infrastructure, Fallaci produced a narrative that overlooked the magnitude of suffering endured by the Bangladeshi people and echoed propaganda lines similar to those of the defeated Pakistani regime. The study highlights Fallaci's dismissive attitude toward the genocide, her sensationalized depiction of freedom fighters, and her hostile characterization of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman. It contrasts her selective outrage with her silence on comparable or worse post-conflict reprisals in European history, revealing a troubling double standard. The paper further explores how Fallaci's distorted reporting has since been weaponized by groups seeking to undermine the legacy of the Liberation War. This paper contributes to the literature by offering a historically grounded counter-narrative that challenges orientalist biases in Western journalism, exposes the ethical pitfalls of selective outrage, and emphasizes the importance of contextual integrity in post-conflict reporting. Through historical context, comparative analysis, and a critique of Fallaci's ideological biases, the paper argues that her account contributed to a dangerous misrepresentation of a nation's painful journey toward freedom and justice.

Introduction:

The year was 1972. A brutal massacre, genocide, and an epidemic of rape had just ended in a bloody war for liberation. Approximately three million lives were lost in this struggle. From the ruins of unimaginable suffering, Bangladesh emerged, battered but free, trying to stand upright with a spine fractured by war. The land lay devastated: roads, hospitals, and bridges had been reduced to rubble. Every element of infrastructure was shattered, and amidst this, a grave humanitarian crisis unfolded, marked by mass displacement, starvation, and the death of millions.

The fear of a sweeping famine loomed large. The Mujibnagar government, under the leadership of Tajuddin Ahmad and the four national leaders, was consumed with urgent concerns: how to feed a starving population, how to provide support to families of the victims of genocide, and how to rehabilitate those left homeless. Around this time, Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman returned from a Pakistani prison, where he had narrowly escaped execution, an order stayed only by immense international pressure.

Bangladesh's leadership was grappling with the monumental task of reactivating the country's decimated administrative machinery. The Governor's House and virtually all government offices had been destroyed by war-time bombings. On December 14, 1971, the Pakistan Army carried out a horrific massacre of the nation's intellectuals, teachers, doctors, engineers, scientists, journalists, striking at the very soul of the emerging nation. With this attack, the newly independent Bangladesh lost much of its intellectual class, creating an enormous void in leadership, expertise, and vision.

Unlike other newly independent nations such as India and Pakistan, Bangladesh inherited no functioning bureaucracy, no intact infrastructure. India and Pakistan had the benefit of receiving independence from the British with institutional frameworks still in place. While they faced sectarian challenges, their state machinery remained largely intact. Bangladesh, however, won its freedom through a savage war, its people ravaged, its institutions razed, and its land bleeding. Humanitarian catastrophes unfolded daily, famine threatened at every turn, and the fragile new state was under immense international and domestic pressure.

It was in this fragile and volatile context that, on January 10, 1972, Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman finally set foot on the soil of a free Bangladesh. He was welcomed by millions, and with his return began the arduous journey of national reconstruction.

A month later, in February 1972, not during the war, but in its fragile aftermath, renowned Italian journalist Oriana Fallaci arrived in Bangladesh. Tragically, Fallaci's writing and opinions would later contribute to a misleading, distorted narrative, one that echoed the propaganda of the defeated Pakistani regime.

It must be acknowledged that during and immediately after the Liberation War, efforts were made internationally to discredit Bangladesh's cause. However, these propaganda attempts largely failed to resonate with the broader global public. The vast majority of people and journalists around the world were appalled by the undeniable brutality inflicted upon Bengalis in 1971, the mass killings and the rape of an estimated 250,000 women. Yet some chose to focus not on the victims, but on isolated acts of post-war vengeance carried out by enraged freedom fighters against collaborators such as the Razakars, Al-Badr, and Al-Shams, local militias who had aided the Pakistani military in its genocidal campaign.

These "selective" journalists published sensationalized headlines: alleging mass executions in the Dhaka stadium, claiming that dozens of "innocent" Razakars had been killed. The tragic irony was that they turned a blind eye to genocide, yet sensationalized acts of retaliation driven by deep, justified rage.

Oriana Fallaci, from the outset, appeared indifferent to the immense suffering of the Bangladeshi people during the war. Her position was met with resentment by the Bangladesh government. Despite this, when she visited the country, arrangements were made for her to interview Bangabandhu. However, due to her known dismissive stance on the Liberation War, her visit was marked by a distinct lack of cordiality. She was given a few courtesies and met with veiled disdain. She had scheduled a meeting with Bangabandhu for 7:30 a.m. but was kept waiting until 9:30 a.m. At one point, she reportedly drank 18 cups of tea and, in frustration, hurled the 19th cup across the room before storming out.

Her skepticism reached its peak when she asked, "What is the basis for the claim that 3 million people were killed?" To many Bengalis, this question was not merely insensitive; it was infuriating. The trauma was still fresh. Advocate Z.I. Khan Panna, a courageous freedom fighter and later head of Ain o Salish Kendra, once answered that question by recalling the endless villages he saw burning, the river carrying away the bodies of countless innocents. "In minutes, the bodies would disappear," is what he said. (Channel 24, 2024) Maybe these are emotional responses to her, but to us, these are lived horrors. To Fallaci, these were anecdotal, emotional outbursts. But for the people of Bangladesh, they were memories etched in fire and blood.

Journalist Oriana Fallaci was visibly upset with the reception she received from the newly formed government of Bangladesh. Her discontent stemmed from what she perceived as a lack of respect or hospitality. In her writings, she accused freedom fighters of firing guns in the air to incite fear and allegedly looting shops by flaunting bullets, claims that are both disappointing and shocking, especially coming from a journalist of international repute. (Munim, 2010) Those who were truly aware of Bangladesh's post-war condition and the conduct of its people during those early, chaotic months would never accept such sweeping generalizations.

Indeed, following independence in 1971, there was unrest, an expected outcome after nine months of genocidal war. Recognizing the urgency of restoring order, Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, on January 18, 1972, issued a directive asking all freedom fighters to surrender their arms within ten days. This move was a turning point in stabilizing the country. Yet, Fallaci chose to portray the Mukti Bahini (freedom fighters) not as liberators or protectors of their war-torn homeland, but as looters and perpetrators of injustices, including allegations of violence against Biharis, allegations that remain highly contested and sensitive.

Even more egregiously, Fallaci cited an incident involving the killing of 50 Razakars by the Kaderia Bahini, calling it "the most brutal massacre" she had ever witnessed. The irony is difficult to overlook. (Fallaci, Anwar Hossain Manju (Translator), 1976, p. 9) Fallaci had lived through the horrors of World War II. At the age of 14, she was reportedly involved in anti-fascist resistance and was even awarded a medal for her service. In 1943, after the fall of Mussolini, his body, alongside 15 of his close allies, was publicly displayed, pelted with stones, and spat upon in the center of Milan. In France, thousands of Nazi collaborators were summarily executed without trial. Where was Fallaci's outrage then?

And yet, in 1972, she was "shocked" by the alleged actions of the Mukti Bahini? It seems profoundly hypocritical. After interviewing Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, she took her story to Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, who welcomed her warmly. Bhutto reportedly said, "You are the only journalist who told the truth about Mujib Rahman." (Fallaci, 1972) (Fallaci, 1976, p. 187) Her narrative aligned with Pakistani interests: Yahya Khan was a "disgusting drunkard," Sheikh Mujib a "congenital liar," and Indira Gandhi "a woman devoid of initiative or imagination." (Fallaci, 1976, p. 190) Fallaci was positioned as the sole truth-teller, setting herself apart as if no other journalist dared criticize Mujib.

Given her antagonistic stance, it's no surprise that Bangabandhu's interaction with Fallaci was curt, even irritated. Her line of questioning bordered on provocation, and Bangabandhu reportedly responded to her with restrained exasperation, repeating: "Understood, understood, understood." He was not a man with time to waste. The country was in ruins, there was no money in the banks, and no food in the warehouses. Seven crore people needed to be fed. The task of restoring law and order was colossal. He was also engaged in delicate negotiations to bring back the remaining Bengalis, including his would-be assassins, from Pakistan. In that context, debating over the fate of four Razakars was a luxury Bangladesh could not afford.

Fallaci appeared at his residence uninvited, interrupting a family meal. Begum Mujib was at lunch with their children when Fallaci entered. There were no bodyguards at the house. Even Mujib's office lacked proper security. (Fallaci, Anwar Hossain Manju (Translator), 1976, p. 10) Fallaci had unrestricted access, perhaps assuming that Mujib was less "important" than someone like "Mr. President Bhutto." After refusing to answer some of her more incendiary questions, Bangabandhu eventually lost patience and had her removed from his office.

When she returned to the Hotel Intercontinental, a group of freedom fighters confronted her, angered by her disrespect toward their national leader. With the help of some German diplomats, she managed to leave the country safely. (Fallaci, Anwar Hossain Manju (Translator), 1976)

From then on, Fallaci's portrayal of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman turned hostile. She depicted him as arrogant, cruel, even selfish. She cited Mujib as "a big-headed man who tricked his way into leadership." Her article presented Bangabandhu not as the architect of a nation, but as a gang leader, an image utterly incompatible with the dignity and compassion he showed his people.

Reading her portrayal was deeply disappointing and disheartening. The contrast with world-renowned journalist David Frost is telling. When Frost interviewed Bangabandhu, he was visibly moved by the conversation. His final words were not of cynicism or skepticism, but of solidarity. He ended the interview with "Joy Bangla." (AL, 2023)

It is entirely natural to expect that a newly independent country like Bangladesh would face an array of overwhelming challenges. Given the horrors of the war, the collapse of infrastructure, the void left by the systematic elimination of the nation's intellectual class, and the sheer humanitarian catastrophe, the road ahead was anything but smooth. And yet, despite these adversities, Bangladesh moved forward, slowly, painfully, but with resolve. The government navigated a fragile administrative structure, widespread devastation, and a traumatized population, all while facing international pressure and economic isolation.

A few years later, in 1974 and 1975, Bangladesh encountered yet another wave of instability. One of the critical triggers was the export of jute to Cuba, which angered the United States and led to the suspension of 2 million tons of food grain aid to Bangladesh. This political retaliation had dire consequences, contributing to famine and unrest. Naturally, many critics emerged at the time. Criticism of government decisions, especially in a democracy, is valid and necessary. But to offer such criticism without understanding the broader geopolitical and historical context is not only intellectually dishonest, it is ethically questionable.

Unfortunately, the newly born Bangladesh of 1972, still bleeding from war wounds, became an easy target for oversimplified judgments and unfair narratives. Among the loudest and most controversial voices was that of Oriana Fallaci, an Italian journalist who later came to be weaponized by those opposing Bangladesh's liberation movement. Her writing, taken out of context or selectively quoted, has been used by certain individuals and groups to propagate misleading narratives, both inside Bangladesh and abroad, about the Liberation War and its aftermath.

It's worth reflecting on how misinformation and fragmented facts can shape perception. A segment of the global population believes that the moon landing was staged, that Neil Armstrong never set foot on the moon. While such conspiracy theories may seem like harmless speculation, the spreading of misinformation about foundational historical events like the Bangladesh Liberation War is far more dangerous. These are not harmless rumors, they are attempts to rewrite history and tarnish the memory of a generation's sacrifice.

There are numerous individuals and organizations, both within and outside the country, who oppose the spirit of the Liberation War and the very independence of Bangladesh. These groups have been attempting to distort the truth by promoting a carefully crafted, misleading narrative. One of their strategies involves quoting selectively from Oriana Fallaci, in an effort to present a manipulated version of the events surrounding the Liberation War. Their aim is not to uncover historical truth, but to confuse, mislead, and misinform both the younger generation of Bangladesh, who may not have a deep understanding of the complexities of 1971, and the global audience, which often receives oversimplified portrayals of our national struggle. Their objective is to replace the story of justice and resistance with a false and unjust version of history, a narrative built on denial, distortion, and deception.

She once described herself as "a woman not used to medals and not too keen on trophies, with an intense ethical and moral significance." (Berdichevsky, 2013) Yet, this self-perception starkly contrasts with some of her offensive, inflammatory views, such as her derogatory and factually incorrect remarks about the Prophet Muhammad, where she claimed she would depict him with "I will draw Mohammed with his 9 wives, including the little baby he married when 70 years old, the 16 concubines and a female camel wearing a Burqa. So far my pencil stopped at the image of the camel, but my next attempt will surely be better." (Timenote.info, n.d.) This is not merely a disrespectful caricature, it is an outright falsification. Hazrat Muhammad died at the age of 63, and the rest of her claim reflects either ignorance or deliberate malice. Yet, curiously, those from the so-called "religious class" who now use her writings to serve their political goals seem entirely unfazed by such slander. Why? Because neither the Quran nor the Sunnah can shield them in the face of looming accountability, particularly when it comes to the war crimes trials they seek to derail. Instead, they seek refuge in Fallaci's words, believing her inflammatory prose might offer them cover. In this way, a journalist becomes an ideological weapon.

The name Fallaci itself is strangely fitting. The English word that immediately comes to mind is fallacy - a mistaken belief, a flawed argument. In Bengali, perhaps the closest equivalent is ভ্রান্তি (bhranti) - a misconception. While I do not know what the surname Fallaci means in Italian, the English word derives from the Latin fallacia, meaning deception or error. It is quite possible that the Italian root carries a different nuance, but the resemblance in meaning is difficult to ignore. A name is not always a destiny, but in Oriana's case, she has lived up to it.

Not everyone honors the weight of a name, but Oriana Fallaci has, albeit in a way that reinforces distortion rather than dignity. And those who weaponize her words today are not interested in truth, but in rewriting history to suit their own ends.

References:

Bangladesh Awami League. (2023, January 9). How can I leave my people? I am the leader of the nation. I can fight and die. - Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman's interview with David Frost. https://albd.org/articles/news/35783/How-can-I-leave-my-people%3F-I-am-the-leader-of-the-nation.-I-can-fight-and-die.--Bangabandhu-Sheikh-Mujibur-Rahman's-interview-with-David-Frost​

Berdichevsky, N. (2013, April). Orianna Fallaci, woman of valor. New English Review. https://www.newenglishreview.org/articles/orianna-fallaci-woman-of-valor/​

Channel 24. (2024, September 14). বীর মুক্তিযোদ্ধা জেড আই খান পান্না | মুক্তমঞ্চ | Mukto Moncho. Channel 24 [Video]. YouTube. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4FzRjIhinv4​

Fallaci, O. (1972, April). Interview with history: Oriana Fallaci - Karachi, April 1972. Bhutto.org. https://bhutto.org/index.php/interviews/interview-with-history-oriana-fallaci-karachi-april-1972/​

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Fallaci, O. (1976). Interview with history (J. Shepley, Trans.). Liveright Publishing Corporation.

Fallaci, O. (1976). ইন্টারভিউ উইথ হিস্টরি (আ. হ. মঞ্জু, অনুবাদ). আহমদ পাবলিশিং হাউজ.

Fallaci, O. (1976). ইন্টারভিউ উইথ হিস্টরি (আ. হ. মঞ্জু, অনুবাদ). আহমদ পাবলিশিং হাউজ.

Munim, M. (2010, March 19). মুনিম, ম. (২০১০, মার্চ ১৯). বঙ্গবন্ধু এবং ওরিয়ানা ফালাচী. মুক্তাঙ্গন. https://muktangon.blog/mohammed-munim/5902​

Timenote.info. (n.d.). Oriana Fallaci. Timenote.info. https://timenote.info/en/Oriana-Fallaci​