Controversy Surrounding Shahidul Zahir Under the Shadow of Envy

A fierce debate has ignited within Bangladesh’s literary and intellectual circles following a controversial interview in which a highly prominent intellectual dismissed the acclaimed avant-garde writer Shahidul Zahir, asserting that he does not even consider Zahir a “third-class author”. Whilst digital platforms have erupted with reactionary memes and superficial trolling, a deeper examination reveals that this dispute is far from a mere internet spat. Viewed through the analytical lenses of Sigmund Freud, Jacques Lacan, and the seminal Bangladeshi thinker Ahmad Sofa, the backlash uncovers a primitive, subconscious psychological game deeply embedded within the collective Bengali psyche.

The irony remains that Shahidul Zahir himself meticulously dissected this specific brand of collective malice and envy throughout his literary career. In his celebrated novel Se Raat-e Purnima Chhilo (It Was a Full Moon Night), the character Mofizuddin accumulates unprecedented wealth and elegance, which promptly triggers a suffocating mist of whispers, slander, and manufactured rumours among the inhabitants of Suhaspur village. Zahir utilised this narrative to mirror a timeless societal affliction: when a community cannot tolerate an individual’s linguistic sovereignty, intellect, or profound passion, it resorts to collective hostility to drag the successful down to a mediocre baseline. The recent public dismissal of Zahir’s literary stature feels like history stepping directly off the pages of his fiction into contemporary reality.

This specific mindset, particularly within the Bengali Muslim intelligentsia, was fiercely criticised by Ahmad Sofa. In his monumental essay Bangali Musalmaner Mon (The Mind of the Bengali Muslim), Sofa observed that the society functions as an deeply self-absorbed entity, unable to look outward or celebrate magnificent creations, yet deriving a distorted satisfaction from the downfall of others. He argued that a pervasive desire to dismantle success drives the community, largely because individuals struggle to achieve greatness themselves.

When a public intellectual summarily dismisses a brilliant and reclusive master of magical realism like Zahir, Sofa’s critiques in Buddhibrittir Nuton Binyas (The New Alignment of Intellect) resonate profoundly. Sofa famously remarked that many local intellectuals operate on opportunism and petty disparagement, unable to discover new truths themselves whilst remaining entirely intolerant of anyone who introduces genuine creativity or unvarnished reality.

This friction can be further contextualised through Freud’s theory of the “narcissism of small differences”. When two entities occupy a similar intellectual space—sharing a focus on French theory, subaltern history, and European philosophical traditions—an subconscious urge develops to aggressively attack the counterpart to safeguard one’s own perceived superiority. As Zahir captivated readers with his uniquely structured magical realist prose, his creative dominance likely bruised the subconscious ego of institutional theoreticians. Under Freud’s concept of projection, when individuals cannot confront their internal creative limitations, they seek to pacify their anxieties by labelling an extraordinary contemporary as “third-class”.

Similarly, the French psychoanalyst Jacques Lacan argued that human desire is invariably mediated through the desire of the other. The envious individual is not merely aggrieved by another’s material acquisition, but by their jouissance—their intense, unbridled enjoyment. Zahir’s labyrinthine prose and aesthetic autonomy offered a direct psychological challenge to the rigid, citation-heavy language of institutional academics. By enacting a total foreclosure of Zahir’s merit, these critics attempt to seize what Lacan termed “The Gaze of the Big Other”, positioning themselves as the ultimate arbiters of literary judgement.

Just as a unsettling, temporary relief washed over Suhaspur after Mofizuddin’s tragedy in Zahir’s novel, certain intellectuals and their devoted followers seem to derive a similar, murky gratification from publicly castigating the late author. Within Lacanian theory, “The Name-of-the-Father” represents a fundamental, law-giving authority. For a group of uncritical followers, an academic figurehead assumes this role of an epistemological father. When this patriarchal figure issues a decree branding Zahir insignificant, the followers accept this unspoken law as absolute truth, experiencing a distinct sense of Schadenfreude by dismissing a monumental literary legacy.

Ultimately, Ahmad Sofa’s enduring words capture the absolute truth of this predicament: the most tragic flaw of the Bengali character is an inability to honour the living talented, followed by an elaborate obsession with ritualistic mourning once they are gone. Institutional decrees cannot erase the hypnotic brilliance of Shahidul Zahir’s prose from the minds of his readers. His literature is destined to remain luminous, sustained entirely by its own intrinsic majesty.

Professor Mijanur Rahman, University of Dhaka