Just over a year ago, a tragic event unfolded that seemed to
mark a turning point in Bangladesh. I refer to the savage attack on the Holey
Artisan Bakery that resulted in the death of 22 innocent victims from five
countries who were simply enjoying one another’s company at one of Dhaka’s
finest restaurants.
That their lives should come to such an unthinkable end at
such a gathering place shocked Bangladeshis and friends of Bangladesh alike.
We all suffered many losses that day. In addition to the
horrific loss of life, we began to question whether we could all enjoy this
diverse and exciting city without fear.
Bangladeshis witnessed a kind of terror not seen in their
country before. As foreign visitors living in Bangladesh’s open, hospitable,
and tolerant culture, we lost the innocence of a presumption that we were not a
target of terrorists.
That the young men who zealously conducted this carnage were
products of good homes and superior educations made the event all the more
senseless.
These privileged youth would likely have been assuming
positions of leadership in their fields within 10 or 15 years had they not
destroyed themselves along with their innocent victims.
On the 1 July anniversary, it is fair to say that
Bangladeshis and the expatriate community had yet to fully come to terms with
their loss and pain.
The moving commemoration that took place on the site of the
attack one year later reminded us that wounds had yet to heal and, more
importantly, that the victims - along with their families and friends -- were
not forgotten.
It is the memories, hopes, and dreams of those lost that
must be foremost in our thoughts and prayers as we continue to try to come to
terms with the attack.
I wish I could speak personally about each of the victims.
They were business leaders, students, and aid workers, all in Dhaka because
they wanted to be here; because they believed in Bangladesh.
Many of us did not know them personally, but we are united
in our grief for the senseless loss of accomplishment and potential of each of
the 22 women and men.
In response to a brutality meant to foment incapacitating
fear, we are instead inspired by the heroism of one of the youngest to die that
day - Faraaz Ayaaz Hossain -- the Bangladeshi student who stayed with his friends
and faced death rather than be released by the gunmen.
Such a selfless act challenges us to ask ourselves how we
respond to everyday acts of violence, from bullying to domestic violence to
abuse of power.
One example serves to illustrate how unimaginable loss can
inspire action by what US president Abraham Lincoln called our “better angels.”
It was my privilege recently to visit a school founded by
the mother of Abinta Kabir, a Bangladeshi American and her mother’s only child
who also died in the attack.
Her family has dedicated themselves to transforming the
memory of Abinta into new schools for poor Bangladeshis - choosing creation
rather than destruction, education and opportunity rather than nihilism and
chaos. What a beautiful and enduring gift in young Abinta’s memory, and to the
girls and boys who will benefit from her vision and her family’s generosity.
The metaphor of the lotus is apt here. From mud grows a
beautiful flower. So too from this tragedy is growing a new dedication to
traditional values all Bangladeshis hold dear - peace, tolerance and an
appreciation of diversity. Our prayers are with the souls of those lost that
night, and their families and friends as we reflect on their beautiful lives.
* Marcia Bernicat is the US ambassador in Dhaka.
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