Betrayed and Besieged: The Dakra Massacre of Hindu Refugees

By Vinay Nalwa

The Bangladesh Liberation War of 1971 is marked by numerous atrocities inflicted on the Bengali Hindu community, and the Dakra massacre remains a tragic and brutal episode among them. On May 21, 1971, the village of Dakra in Perikhali Union, Rampal Upazila, Bagerhat district, became the site of a horrific bloodbath. Located along the banks of the Mongla and Madartala rivers near the revered Kalibari temple, Dakra had become a refuge for thousands of Hindu families fleeing violence.

The massacre was part of a larger genocidal campaign by the Pakistan Army, launched under Operation Searchlight, initiated on March 25, 1971, to crush the Bengali independence movement. The operation deliberately targeted the Bengali Hindu minority, aiming to eliminate them as part of a systematic ethnic cleansing. The Pakistan Army enlisted local collaborators known as Razakars—a paramilitary group infamous for their brutality and allegiance to Islamabad. These Razakars, led in Bagerhat by Rajjab Ali Fakir, played a pivotal role in hunting down Hindu civilians.

In the weeks following May 11, 1971, thousands of Hindus from nearby villages like Sayera, Khanpur, and Morelganj sought refuge in Dakra. They gathered in hundreds of boats anchored along the Mangla and Madartala rivers and Kumarkhali canal, hoping to cross into India through the Sundarbans. By May 21, over 2,000 refugees, under local leaders like Iman Ali Sheikh and Jonab Ali Sheikh, found themselves trapped in what had become a massive floating refugee camp.

Despite assurances from some Muslim leaders and Peace Committee members, the refugees’ location was betrayed to Rajjab Ali’s Razakar forces. On that fateful morning, two boats carrying armed Razakars surrounded Dakra. Attacking from both east and west, they ruthlessly opened fire on anyone in sight.

The Razakars showed no mercy. Men—some even disguised in sarees in desperate attempts to evade capture—were dragged from their homes, lined up before the Kalibari temple, and shot en masse. Over 600 men and boys were slaughtered within moments.

Women were not spared from the horror. Though many escaped immediate death, dozens were abducted, sexually violated, and forcibly taken aboard Razakar boats. Several women were also shot dead near the riverside and on village roads. Eyewitnesses reported gruesome scenes of mutilated female bodies scattered by the waterways.

Local collaborators like Akiz Uddin and Majid Kassai ensured no wounded survivors lived, stabbing those still breathing. The attackers then set Hindu homes ablaze, leaving behind a smoldering ruin.

Some survivors found shelter in nearby Muslim quarters, while others fled across the border into India immediately after the massacre. The next day, led by Dr. Delwar Hossain, courageous youths buried around 200 bodies in the Kalibari temple grounds. Many others were cremated, but countless bodies were swept away by the rivers, their final resting places lost to the flowing waters.

Today, the site of the Kalibari temple and mass grave is submerged, swallowed by the rivers that once witnessed the bloodshed. Survivors and witnesses carry the heavy burden of memory—a scar of betrayal and immense suffering that refuses to fade.

The Dakra massacre epitomizes the calculated genocidal intent behind Operation Searchlight and the Pakistan Army’s systematic targeting of Bengali Hindus. It stands as a stark reminder of the brutal costs paid by the Hindu community during Bangladesh’s birth pangs of freedom.

(The writer is an author and columnist)