Dacca, City of the Dead

Within hours after launching a tank-led offensive in Dacca and other East Pakistani cities on the night of March 25, the Pakistan army imposed a virtual blackout on the brutal civil war in Bangla Desh (Bengal State) by expelling foreign newsmen. TIME Correspondent Dan Coggin, who was among them, recently trekked back from India by Honda, truck, bus and bicycle to become the first American journalist to visit Dacca since the fighting started. His report:

Dacca was always a fairly dreary city, offering slim pleasures beyond the Hotel Intercontinental and a dozen Chinese restaurants ^ that few of its 1,500,000 people could afford. Now, IP in many ways, it has become a city of the dead. A month after the army struck, unleashing tank guns and automatic weapons against largely unarmed civilians in 34 hours of wanton slaughter, Dacca is still shocked and shuttered, its remaining inhabitants living in terror under the grip of army control. The exact toll will never be known, but probably more than 10,000 were killed in Dacca alone.

Perhaps half the city's population has fled to outlying villages. With the lifting of army blockades at road and river ferry exits, the exodus is resuming. Those who remain venture outdoors only for urgent food shopping. Rice prices have risen 50% since the army reportedly started burning grain silos in some areas. In any case, 14 of the city's 18 food bazaars were destroyed. The usually jammed streets are practically empty, and no civil government is functioning.

"Kill the Bastards!" On every rooftop, Pakistan's green-and-white flags hang limply in the steamy stillness. "We all know that Pakistan is finished," said one Bengali, "but we hope the flags will keep the soldiers away." As another form of insurance, portraits of Pakistan's late founder Mohammed Ali Jinnah, and even the current President Agha Mohammed Yahya Khan, were displayed prominently. But there was no mistaking the fact that the East Pakistanis viewed the army's occupation of Dacca as a setback and not a surrender. "We will neither forgive nor forget," said one Bengali. On learning that I was a sangbadik (journalist), various townspeople led me to mass graves, to a stairwell where two professors were shot to death, and to scenes of other atrocities.

The most savage killing occurred in the Old City, where several sections were burned to the ground. Soldiers poured gasoline around entire blocks, igniting them with flamethrowers, then mowed down people trying to escape the cordons of fire. "They're coming out!" a Westerner heard soldiers cry. "Kill the bastards!"

One Bengali businessman told of losing his son, daughter-in-law and four grandchildren in the fire. Few apparently survived in the destroyed sections--25 square blocks--of the Old City. If they escaped the flames, they ran into gunfire. To frighten survivors, soldiers refused to allow the removal of decomposing bodies for three days, despite the Moslem belief in prompt burial, preferably within 24 hours, to free the soul.

The dead of Dacca included some of East Pakistan's most prominent educators and businessmen, as well as some 500 students. Among at least seven University of Dacca professors who were executed without apparent reason was the head of the philosophy department, Govinda Chandra Dev, 65, a gentle Hindu who believed in unity in diversity. Another victim was Jo-gesh Chandra Ghosh, 86, the invalid millionaire chemist. Ghosh, who did not believe in banks, was dragged from his bed and shot to death by soldiers who looted more than $1 million in rupees from his home.

Looting was also the motive for the slaying of Ranada Prasad Saha, 80, one of East Pakistan's leading jute exporters and one of its few philanthropists; he had built a modern hospital offering free medical care at Mirzapur, 40 miles north of Dacca. Dev, Ghosh and Saha were all Hindus.

"Where are the maloun [cursed ones]?" rampaging soldiers often asked as they searched for Hindus. But the Hindus were by no means the only victims. Many soldiers arriving in East Pakistan were reportedly told the absurdity that it was all right to kill Bengali Moslems because they were Hindus in disguise. "We can kill anyone for anything," a Punjabi captain told a relative. "We are accountable to no one."

Next Prime Minister. The tales of brutality are seemingly endless. A young man whose house was being searched begged the soldiers to do anything, but to leave his 17-year-old sister alone; they spared him so he could watch them murder her with a bayonet. Colonel Abudl Hai, a Bengali physician attached to the East Bengal Regiment, was allowed to make a last phone call to his family; an hour later his body was delivered to his home. An old man who decided that Friday prayers were more important than the curfew was shot to death as he walked into a mosque.

About 1:30 on the morning of the attack, two armored personnel carriers arrived at the Dhanmandi home of Sheik Mujibur ("Mujib") Rahman, 51, the political leader behind the campaign for Bengali independence. Mujib first took refuge beneath a bed when the Special Security Group commandos began to spray his house with small-arms fire. Then, during a lull, he went to the downstairs veranda, raised his hands in surrender and shouted, "There is no need for shooting. Here I am. Take me."

Mujib was flown to West Pakistan, where he is reported held in Attock Fort near Peshawar. As an activist who had already spent nine years and eight months in jail, he may have reasoned at the time of his arrest that his political goals would be served by the martyrdom of further imprisonment. But he obviously did not expect to face a treason charge and possible execution. Only two months earlier, after all, President Yahya had referred to him as "the next Prime Minister of Pakistan."

No Choice. In Mujib's absence, the resistance movement is sorely lacking leadership, as well as arms, ammunition and communications gear. In late March, the mukti fauj (liberation forces) overwhelmed several company-size elements, as at Kushtia and Pabna, but bolt-action rifles cannot stop Sabre jets, artillery and army troops operating in battalion strength.

Still, everywhere I visited on the journey to Dacca, I found astonishing unanimity on the Bengali desire for independence and a determination to resist the Pakistan army with whatever means available. "We will not be slaves," said one resistance officer, "so there is no choice but to fight until we win." The oncoming monsoon rains and the Islamabad government's financial problems will also work in favor of Bangla Desh. As the months pass and such hardships increase, Islamabad may have to face the fact that unity by force of arms is not exactly the Pakistan that Jinnah had in mind.

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