Writing literature is, by nature, a creative pursuit—one that demands both technical skill and an innate artistic sensibility. When the subject is the 1971 War, the task becomes even more complex, as it requires a delicate balance between historical accuracy and imaginative expression. Too often, however, the focus shifts towards producing a greater volume of work—whether for ceremonial observance or commercial gain—at the expense of depth, nuance, and authenticity. This concern extends beyond literature to the realms of drama and cinema as well.
This debate grew more intense in the years following the war, when memories were still vivid among witnesses, literary figures, and readers, and it remains relevant today as firsthand experiences become increasingly rare. Notably, the scarcity of significant literature on the 1971 War can largely be attributed to two key factors: the firsthand experience of war and the writer's ability to effectively translate it into compelling writing.
Many freedom fighters and literary figures believe that skilled writers, adept at crafting literary works, often lacked direct experience of the 1971 War. Conversely, freedom fighters who actively participated in the war and led resistance efforts did not always possess the necessary writing skills to document their experiences. This gap between literary expertise and firsthand war experience created a disconnect, affecting the imaginative depth of creative writings on the war.
As a matter of fact, some writers, teachers, and intellectuals were among the first casualties of the war, killed during the attacks on 26–27 March. The brutality escalated in the final phase of the war in December, when many intellectuals, poets, and writers, after enduring months of captivity under occupation, were executed by the Pakistani army and its local collaborators.
Meanwhile, another group of literary figures and writers fled to India, where they lived as war refugees, and some actively contributed to movements advocating for Bangladesh's liberation. Thus, critics argue that both groups of writers lacked direct lived experience of the war—some led secluded, inactive, or fugitive lives in the occupied land, while others did not witness the war firsthand as they were in Indian territory. Beyond the question of direct experience, some writers have also explored other dimensions of meaningful storytelling while observing this genre of creative writing during the 1971 War.
For instance, novelist Rashid Karim (1925–2011) challenged the notion that the inadequate literary representation of the 1971 War was solely due to a lack of firsthand experience. Writing in 1991, two decades after the war, he acknowledged that this shortage of experience influenced the portrayal of war in dramas and novels, often making them overly fanciful and disconnected from reality. However, he argued that this issue required deeper reflection to be fully understood. He pointed out that some of the greatest works of war literature were written by authors who had no direct experience of war, yet they successfully created authentic and timeless representations that became world classics.
He stated that in The Diary of Anne Frank, the young author did not witness the events outside her tiny room—the war and the brutal torture inflicted by the Nazi army. Instead, she recorded her personal thoughts, family details, and occasional sounds of Nazi raids or glimpses of soldiers from the window while remaining in hiding throughout the Second World War. Although the book contains no direct accounts from the war front, it became one of the most widely read literary testimonies of World War II.
Rashid Karim highlights how this was possible despite Anne Frank's lack of firsthand experience of war, emphasising that her imagination allowed her to create a compelling narrative of acute fear, alongside the presence of love and even the observation of birthdays—without relying on fictionalised depictions of war. These elements contrasted with the overwhelming, wired portrayal of war often found in the literature of 1971.
He extended this argument to Leo Tolstoy's great literary novel War and Peace (1869), a war-based novel set between 1805 and 1813, despite Tolstoy being born in 1828 and completing the novel 64 years later. With its vast array of characters and events, Tolstoy, having no direct war experience, had to rely on historical research in libraries, interviewing people for information, and travelling to different countries to understand the ambience of the time.
However, history and literature are not identical, as Rashid Karim mentioned. While history can aid in the process, it is the author's rare quality of imagination that allows them to depict the complex events of the 1971 War without relying on fictionalised or entertaining portrayals of war. Personal experience, firsthand war experience, or an acute historical sense are important, but these cannot be considered the only components for writing 1971 war literature.
Syed Shamsul Haque (1935–2016), a renowned poet, prose writer, and dramatist, also contributed to this discussion. He observed that during the 1970s and 1980s, nearly all writers focused on literature about the Liberation War of 1971. However, after two decades, the volume of such writings declined. He explored these challenges while discussing Italo Calvino, the acclaimed Italian writer, who documented Italy's war experience and its literary impact. Notably, unlike European war literature—which gave rise to neo-realism in both literature and cinema, with Calvino as one of its pioneers—the literary response to the War of 1971 did not develop into a distinct genre.
Beyond the common perception that Bengali literature lags behind due to its association with a third-world context, Syed Haque asserts that Bengali authors bear the responsibility of producing meaningful work in their own language. Notably, Calvino wrote that while Italy may have been occupied in the war, its authors' minds remained free—a sentiment reflected in their literature. The past was blurred, but the present was vibrant and colourful; most importantly, those colours represent the stories of war, deeply experienced by both writers and readers of Italy.
Drawing from Calvino's insight, Syed Haque extended the idea to the literature of the 1971 War. He observes that the initial surge of novels and stories about 1971 was necessary for both writers and readers. Over the decades, this body of literature has served almost as a form of catharsis. However, he argued that the time has now come to shift the focus towards the artistic merit of 1971 war literature—moving beyond mere participation in writing about the war to considering its enduring artistic value.
Priyam Paul is a researcher and journalist.
