What instruments do humans possess to narrate memory and for memorialisation? What acts do we choose to remember? How do we sensitively preserve and narrate acts of violence and war to ensure we never forget what has come before? In that vein, how do we spatialise these acts sensitively to honour those that have been sacrificed? What deserves to be preserved and what is forgotten? The question of memorialising acts of violence is always contentious especially when these are related to larger narratives of war and destruction. It could mean glorifying the history of one while erasing the history of another. Such memorials require an innate thoughtfulness: whose narrative do we tell? How do we tell it?

Memorial architecture possesses the power to preserve memory in tangible forms, and it is worth bearing in mind how we choose to do it. For instance, Kenzo Tange’s design for the Hiroshima Peace Center and Memorial Park in Japan which preserves the only building left standing in the city after the atomic bomb was dropped, or Studio Libeskind’s memorials to the Jewish victims of the Holocaust, the Jewish Museum in Berlin and the National Holocaust Memorial of Names in Amsterdam that convey the strangeness of war through their postmodernist design. Or take the simple form of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial—designed by Maya Lin—which interprets the loss of life during war as a gash in the world, a wound in time and memory for all those who are involved. Inevitably, such public architectures highlight the social and aesthetic dimensions of remembrance. They question, what forms can memory take.

A crucial site in the 1971 Liberation War in Bangladesh, Feni—a city surrounded on three sides by India—was a prime witness to the brutality of Pakistan’s army, with innocent Bengalis killed and then buried in mass graves in the south-eastern corner of Feni Government College. As a local newspaper reported a couple of years ago, these mass graves were lying abandoned and neglected, with residential lots being developed in the surroundings. In an attempt to commemorate the martyrs of the Liberation War, the Bangladesh-based architects, Vector Plinth took inspiration from a play about the events put on by the students of the Feni Government College, called Goalpost in their design for Feni College Boddhobhumi Sritisthombho Complex.

Just as architecture is a way to spatialise memory, words play a vital part in preserving events that have occurred for later generations. In the play, the actors depicted the persecution of the Muktibahini (freedom fighters)—showing how they were shot while hanging with cords on the goalpost of the Feni Government college field. Forming a narrative crux for the memorial, the horrific history of the “goalpost” is portrayed by the designers through a monumental, abstract form, and a zoning strategy that allows the architecture to unfold like the pages of a book.

The interventions on the narrow site create a space for the local community to gather whilst being respectful of the land they sit on. As the architects state, "The notion was to revive the memory of the martyrs so that young students can understand and appreciate the sacrifices that were made in 1971.” The four stages that depict this history through a thoughtful landscape design are: "A Walk to Remember" for memories, "Walls of Silence" for reflection, "Recalling the History" as a storyteller, and "Journey of Freedom" for liberation.

Lines from a patriotic song, এক সাগর রক্তের বিনিময়ে (An Ocean of Blood) “এক সাগর রক্তের বিনিময়ে, বাংলার স্বাধীনতা আনলে যারা, আমরা তোমাদের ভুলবো না” (We will not forget you, who brought the freedom of Bangla, in exchange of an ocean of blood) on the façade of the ‘goal post’ signal the sombre nature of the site for visitors. As one travels the zig-zag path designed by the architects, signifying the hardships of the freedom fighters, one is always in view of the abstract goalpost, its monumental form becoming a landmark for the people. The site also incorporates an open-air amphitheatre, memorial plaques and a green walkway for the community to be able to use the space, apart from its memorial function.

Memorials are always communal spaces; places for communities to come together, and share in the grief that has passed, surmounting unavoidable politics with sensitivity and profound meaning for the locals. The design for Feni College Boddhobhumi Sritisthombho Complex exemplifies this, with the architects creating a lively place for the community with a design that is easily accessible. However, here we confront the question of meaning that is attributed to a space where violence has occurred in such a scheme. In 2019, it was announced that the memorial at Jallianwala Bagh would be refurbished. What was undertaken in the name of renewal was essentially an act of painting over the violence, an aestheticising of a grim episode of history. It becomes crucial to consider the symbols we use for memorial design.

The choice by the Bangladeshi architects to create a monumental plaza with six copper cylinders suspended by cords, representing the journey of our immortal warriors of Feni, on the other hand, is quite tactful. Each cylinder signifies different stages of the war—চেতনা (Cognition); জাগরণ (Awakening); সংগ্রাম (Warfare); বেদনা (Agony); জয় (Victory); স্বাধীনতা (Independence). The same discretion is shown with the treatment of the back wall where the red patterns are indicative of gunshots and bloodshed. The memorial does not paint over what has happened, but in abstracting meaning deepens the understanding for visitors as a way to make sense of the history of the birth of Bangladesh.

Another reason humans keep erecting memorials has to do with identity. How these structures negate an erasure of identity associated with wars, natural disasters and terrorist acts, where loss occurs arbitrarily to a large number of people. Memorials become public spaces where people can openly mourn, standing as a public recognition of an incomprehensible event. There is no rationalising the violence that accompanies wars: all the lives that are lost, all the blood that is shed. There is only a before and after, and the will to remember that which has occurred. To remind a community of what it means to be together.

Once the complex was opened to the people, “youngsters of the school held performances in the amphitheatre, while the public gathered together to honour the martyrs…They read about the history and stories of the sacrifices of our martyrs, names of 31 Bir Muktijoddha (freedom fighters), and later find themselves standing in front of our nation's map and flag,” the architects relate in an official release.

Elaborating on the many stories embedded in the Feni slaughter grounds, they write: “People learned about stories of a man who came to Feni College slaughter-ground in 1972, in search of his brother. He picked up a skull from the piles of bones, holding it close to his heart. When asked why he is taking it, he said, “They took my brother to the Feni College Camp and he has been missing ever since. My brother had a larger head, and this skull looks bigger than the others.” These shattering tales remind the youths about the sacrifices of their roots.”

Memorials are important not just as a way to remember the past, but as a way to frame the present. By creating a space for the people to socialise and memorialise the history of Feni College Boddhobhumi (slaughter ground), and creating a vibrant space for the community, the Shristihombho complex becomes a place of commemoration and remembrance, reviving the derelict site by preserving the memories of a vital event.

Project Details

Name: Feni College Boddhobhumi Sritisthombho Complex
Location: Feni Govt College, Feni, Bangladesh
Area:
Site Area: 61,525 Sqft
Built Area: 19,617 Sqft
Year of Completion: 2023
Design team:
Lead Architect: Muhammad Jabed Iqbal Rupam & Mohammad Faisal Sabri
Team: Md Jahirul Islam, Sabrina Lipy, Jahid Hossain
Consultants:
Structural & Plumbing Engineer: Pratim Bhuiyan
Project Co-ordinator: Rana Nag
Site Supervisor: Abdullah Al Masud Tareq
Landscape & Lighting Design: Vector Plinth
Documentation and Illustration: Mouna Noor Al-Fatimy