Now-a-days the use of obscene remarks and expletives in protests are becoming almost commonplace. The roots lie not in the youths or politicians leading protests, but possibly in the society itself, which is increasingly becoming less-tolerant – for justified or unjustified reasons.
In this risky socio-political environment, verbal abuses, including obscene slurs, can essentially be a safer route to channel anger compared with physical attacks. However, if the verbal expressions can be crafted and adjusted to sound soothing and polite, it would be beneficial for all.
In earlier times, political slogans in Bangladesh were polite, creative, and poetic—almost like songs or verses. During the Pakistan period, slogans were sharp but still meaningful, such as “Ayub–Monayem bhai bhai, ek roshite fashi chai” or “Tomar amar thikana, Padma Meghna Jamuna.”
After independence, as illegal arms spread, poetry and slogans started reflecting violence and rage. Over time, especially after 1975, slogans became harsher, targeting rival groups with violent imagery (e.g., “Ekta ekta League dhoro, shokal-bikal nashta koro”).
From 2009–2024, clashes between student groups (Chhatra League and Shibir) popularized extremely violent chants like “Ekta ekta Shibir dhoro, dhore dhore jobai koro.” These were not just slogans but were sometimes carried out in reality, as seen in the killings of Bishwajit Das (2012) and Abrar Fahad (2019).
Gradually, obscene and vulgar words entered political slogans. What was once confined to brothels or novels became common among educated youths, even appearing on banners and placards.
In the 2018 movements, and especially during the 2024 July uprising, young students and youths openly used slogans with crude sexual terms—even from female students at Dhaka University.
Many intellectuals in Bangladesh believe that the youth and children do not create societies, nor do they create swear words. The language our youths use to express anger is not their own creation—swear words are created by society itself, elderly intellectuals claim.
For their part, the young protest leaders are defending the obscene words as not “slang” but part of a “new epic of liberation,” arguing that oppressed people use obscene language symbolically, while oppressors use it literally. They claim vulgar language in protests is a form of psychological weapon against tyrants, a revolutionary tool, not obscenity.
Thus, obscene abuse has now become embedded in Bangladesh’s political culture, justified by some as an expression of resistance and even as an art form.
Bengalis are a mixed people, with ancestry tracing back to the Dravidians, Aryans, proto-Australians, Arabs, Afghans, Turks, Europeans. Bengali language is even more mixed. So, if such a mixed nation has a rich stock of swear words, who can be blamed? Yet, in many of the surrounding languages, there are clear definitions of swearing. In those languages, swearing has been elevated to an art form, incorporated into literature, and its use is sometimes felt to provide a soothing relief to the mind.”
In the Aryans’ land—ancient Persia—or in present-day Iranian society, there are no obscene swear words. Don’t Iranians get angry? Of course, they do. Their most obscene insult is “gum sho,” which in English means “get lost.” Besides that, they have harsher curses, such as “pedar sukhte,” which in Bengali means “may your father burn in fire!” Even in extreme anger, they use this kind of language. If someone speaks rudely, at most the opponent responds with, “You are badzaban (foul-mouthed),” or “You speak nonsense.”
The people of Lucknow — the historic city in Uttar Pradesh and a major center of literature and culture in the subcontinent — are famed for their refined speech and graceful, courteous manners. Even when anger surfaces and an insult is uttered, the recipient typically answers with utmost politeness: “Aap bakhshish farma rahe hain,” meaning, “You are speaking very lowly” or “You are saying improper things.” In that city the familiar, contemptuous forms of address common elsewhere — “tui,” “tokari” — are absent; even an uneducated child is addressed respectfully as “aap.”
Abuse in Lucknow does not come across as crude swearing. There, the expression of anger often assumes the tone of elevated literary practice. If someone hurls an insult, the retort might be rendered thus:
“Dekhiye, muhtaram, agar aapne hamari shaan mein ek bhi najaib alfaaz pesh kiya to hum aapki ammaijan ki shaan mein gustakhi kar ke aapke jazbaat ko majrooh kar denge.”
In plain English: “Sir, if you utter a single disrespectful word against my honour, I will violate the dignity of your revered mother and wound your feelings.”
Put another way: “Sir, if you fail to show respect for my honour and speak another arrogant word, I will affront your respected mother and hurt your emotions.” When such elegant, urbane language is used instead of crude invective, it is common for onlookers to cry out in appreciation — “Mukarrar! Mukarrar!” meaning, “Say it again! Say it again!”
Across many parts of Uttar Pradesh a threat in Hindi might be bluntly phrased as: “Ek chaatte mein tujhe dikha dunga” — “I’ll show you the sky with one slap,” i.e., “I’ll slap you so hard I’ll show you the stars.” In Lucknow’s courtly Urdu the same sentiment is couched in a wittier, poetic register:
“Janab, agar aap aayenda ye himakat ki to hum aapke rukhsaar ko is qadar surkh kar denge ke aapko aaftaab ki maujoodgi mein sitaaron ka didaar ho jayega. Lehaza had mein rahe.”
Translated: “Sir, should you repeat such folly, I will redden your cheek so thoroughly that even in the presence of the sun you shall behold stars. Thus, remain within bounds.”
Brash youths who boast of their powerful fathers — “Tui janish, amar bap ke?” (“Do you know who my father is?”) — express the same sentiment in Urdu with a touch of eloquence: “Tumhara ilm hai ke mera walid sahib ko?” — “Have you any notion of my respectable father?”
Finally, what I want to say is that anger and resentment are natural in everyone. If employing abusive language instead of physical violence can avert bloody confrontations, then invective should be preferred. How the language of abuse might be made more creative and even mellifluous is a question social scientists ought to investigate.
The writer is an expatriate senior journalist in the US, and a translator
