Linköping is the eighth-largest city in Sweden. I studied at Linköping University between 1985 and 1990 — quite a long time ago. My mother passed away in Linköping in 2006, and her grave is there. I often visit to pay my respects. Linköping was my first home away from home, and I am deeply connected to it in many ways. When I visit, I usually spend a night or two. This time, I stayed at a hotel.
At breakfast, I was touched by the heartwarming interaction between a small child and her parents. The little girl was about two years old, impatiently pestering her father. At one point, he said, “Let me finish my coffee, and then I’ll give you all my attention.” But the girl couldn’t bear the wait. Gently, the father explained, “If you don’t learn to wait, you won’t know how to be patient.” The little girl then asked, “What happens if I don’t learn to wait?” The father gave an example: “Imagine you go to a park and find another child swinging. No matter how much you cry or demand, you won’t get a turn immediately. You’ll have to wait patiently until it’s your turn. If you learn to wait now, you won’t feel upset later in life.”
Hearing this, the little girl quietly sat and waited for her father to finish his coffee. Then they left hand-in-hand.
I listened attentively and was deeply moved. No one taught me patience in such a practical, compassionate way when I was a child. I was only told that “Allah loves those who are patient.” Though I never saw Allah, I saw my parents and others, yet was taught to be patient through fear rather than understanding. Even now, I struggle with patience. But that little girl, only two years old, learned through love and realism.
Freedom of expression is another name for opening one’s heart. Learning through logic and standing against injustice are essential parts of freedom. So is freedom the only pillar of democracy? No. I believe democracy rests upon three key principles: freedom of expression, liberty, and ethics.
Ancient Greece is often called the cradle of democracy — but theirs was a direct democracy, not the representative kind we know today. Modern democracy evolved first in England, emerging from a long people’s struggle against autocratic monarchies. Democracy later spread across Europe and around the world.
Even today, that struggle continues in many countries. Nations like the United Kingdom and Sweden still have ceremonial monarchies — but these are constitutional monarchies, symbolic and bound within democratic frameworks. They represent a beautiful reconciliation between tradition and modernity. Democracy has matured through the clash and eventual synthesis of opposing ideas. Without such conflict and resolution, today’s modern world would not have been possible.
Thus, progress requires space for debate and dissent. If people are not allowed to speak up, how can anyone claim the right to govern? Yet while corruption, bribery, abductions, murders, and assaults continue unchecked, speaking out remains risky.
A Swedish friend once asked me: “If people can get away with crimes under the nose of authorities, why can’t they also protest openly?”
I replied: “Protesting takes courage. Committing crimes takes cowardice. Protests happen in public; crimes lurk in the shadows.”
He pondered my words — but then challenged me: “In your country, ballots are stuffed in broad daylight before elections. Are those people cowards?”
I had to smile sadly and answer, “No, they are politicians. Politics often means playing tricks.”
Freedom of speech carries responsibility. I am accountable for what I say and what I choose not to say. In times of societal crisis, silence can be complicity.
It’s not only writers or poets who need free speech — every citizen must have the right to speak, listen, and be heard. Governments and political groups must be willing to sit together, listen to all voices, and adapt to the changing pulse of society.
True political wisdom draws from the people — from ordinary citizens. Without them, democracy cannot survive.
But freedom must be exercised respectfully. If someone disagrees with me, they should challenge me with logic, not violence. If their argument convinces me, I might even change my view.
Suppressing dissent through fear, imprisonment, or murder destroys democracy. Every individual has family, responsibilities, dreams — just like everyone else.
Constructive dialogue and critical thinking are essential. No society can progress without open discussion. Sadly, in Bangladesh, these practices are eroding.
Since independence, no government has fully listened to the people’s voice, except leaders like Sher-e-Bangla, Maulana Bhashani, and Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman.
Bangabandhu’s call to action resonated with millions, leading to the liberation of Bangladesh.
Today, for real political and economic reform, inclusivity and dialogue are necessary. Labeling opponents as traitors and imprisoning them for years is not democracy. It’s oppression. How long can we continue down this path?
We rural folk helped build this nation through the Language Movement and the Liberation War. Now, we must educate and empower the next generation. Yet, over 35 million young people remain unemployed. Over six crore people belong to the struggling middle class. From the quota reform movement to the safe road movement, youth-led social revolutions have shown immense promise — yet these very youth are being silenced.
Writers, publishers, intellectuals, and those with differing views are being threatened or killed. Has Parliament or Cabinet seriously debated this? No. This silence is alarming.
Knowledge grows through the collision of old and new ideas. If new ideas are suppressed, society stagnates.
Europe achieved its scientific advancements through open debate and protest against injustice. The Renaissance, the French Revolution, the Industrial Revolution — these events opened the door to human creativity and critical thought.
Years ago, a former French president was sentenced to prison for corruption — a stark contrast to the impunity in countries like ours.
The philosopher Voltaire once said, “I may not agree with what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.”
We seem to have forgotten the lessons of 1952 and 1971 — the fight for freedom of language, thought, and dignity.
Without these rights, statehood becomes meaningless, and our martyrs’ sacrifices are betrayed.
In today’s Bangladesh, instead of nurturing free thinkers, the Digital Security Act is being used to suppress the youth.
The very government that promised a “Digital Bangladesh” now jails young writers and activists under repressive laws.
A government is not the same as the state. But by treating criticism of the government as treason against the nation itself, democracy is being hollowed out.
If we do not allow free, fair elections — something even Pakistan managed in 1970 — then we have truly lost our way.
Digital repression is silencing the nation’s spirit. We fought for independence not to live in fear. Surely, we agree on that?
Science offers solutions to diverse problems — just as ethics addresses the dynamics of human behavior.
Like physics, chemistry, and biology, ethics is also a science — one that seeks to understand human emotion, behavior, and mental processes.
Research into ethics can explain behavior, but learning ethics requires lifelong practice — in every action, big or small.
Ethics is vital for mental health, social harmony, and democracy. Without ethics, democracy cannot reach its full potential.
Thus, for democracy to thrive — whether in Canada, Bangladesh, or anywhere else — we must champion ethics, dialogue, respect, and open-mindedness.
