Governed by Facebook posts, ruled by confusion

It was just about 7:00am on Monday. A mother sat with her daughter at a bus counter in Dinajpur, set for a two-hour commute to Rangpur for the daughter's HSC exam three hours later. There was also another teacher at the same counter who told them that the exams have been cancelled. The local Prothom Alo correspondent happened to be at the scene too and reassured the mother that it was indeed the case.

Still, the parent's confusion and the candidate's disbelief were quite understandable since the higher secondary and equivalent exams have hundreds of thousands of examinees and virtually the gateway to university. Results of the public board exams decide the fate of the candidates. It would not be an overstatement to say that toying with these exams is akin to toying with the fates of hundreds of thousands of the people. But it did not appear from the government's activities that it had completely grasped that.

The government's "announcement" of the postponement came at 2:41am—a little over seven hours before the exam -- through a Facebook post by Information Adviser Mahfuj Alam. Apparently, the information adviser had met the education adviser, who in turn had told him of the decision to suspend that day's exam. Said to be an intellectual guru of the July Uprising leaders, and a mastermind of the anti-quota protests which transformed into an anti-government campaign, Mahfuj Alam is known for posting statements on Facebook only to delete them within hours -- something he has done more than once during his tenure in office. Thus, it was not before 3:00am when an "urgent news bulletin" was shared on a WhatsApp group of journalists by the public relations officer of the Ministry of Information and Broadcasting (and notably still nothing from the education ministry) that this postponement could be confirmed with confidence.

This was not, however, the first instance that the interim government has dithered only to make an announcement when the decision had become long overdue. While the government was fairly quick to declare July 22 for national mourning, there was no indication of postponing the following day's HSC exams. There had been some discussion around it, leading to a general expectation.

The consequent anguish among thousands of examinees the following morning was therefore understandable. At one point hundreds of protesting students forced their way into the Secretariat and had to be repelled with batons and tear gas shells. Quite a few were injured. While these scenes were unfolding at the heart of Dhaka, two advisers (the education adviser included) along with members of the chief adviser's press team were forcibly confined at the site of the crash. They could not leave the Milestone campus faced with hundreds of angry students.

It was not before Wednesday afternoon that the education adviser attempted to explain why the timing of announcement was reasonable. In his first public address since the debacle two days ago, he said this was not a decision that could be taken by a single person at the heat of the moment. To paraphrase him, the decision to postpone an exam comes at the end of an extremely complex process which concluded in the wee hours of the morning. He never explained when this process had been initiated and why it was that the public announcement came at the end and not at the beginning. That all is not well inside the education ministry should be apparent from another announcement of Tuesday -- suspending the education secretary -- once again from the same information adviser's office. The education ministry had announced that exams scheduled for July 22 and July 24 that were postponed would be held on the same day, which immediately drew the ire of examinees and parents. By evening, there was another notification, scheduling the two exams on two days.

In the middle of all the pandemonium on Tuesday -- students storming the Secretariat, advisers stuck at Milestone for nine hours -- the chief adviser's Facebook page posted an appeal for help shortly after 2:00pm. The chief adviser's official Facebook account announced that if people wanted, they could donate to the "Chief Adviser's Relief and Welfare Fund" for the victims of the air force jet crash at Milestone college. Embarrassing as it was, the post was removed within the hour.

Even after the meeting of four political parties with the government on Tuesday evening, there was no explanation about why the announcement was made so late; why it was the information adviser who made the announcement and not the education adviser.

There was no acknowledgement of the commotion at the Secretariat, leave alone admitting that it was partially because of the government mishandling the situation. The forcible confinement of the advisers, along with the press secretary, at Milestone College was another sore point and serves as another example of what happens from mollycoddling mobs, some even going so far as to call them "pressure groups". Neither was there any explanation about the post urging donations from the chief adviser's office and why it was deleted soon afterwards. The law adviser briefed the press about the unity of all the parties and how they were all committed to cooperating with the government. But he never touched upon the daylong chaos in Dhaka. Just to make sure he would not have to field difficult questions, the adviser had said in the beginning that there would be no questions.

In May, the government had issued an ordinance near midnight splitting the National Board of Revenue (NBR) into two units. Although the cabinet had approved the ordinance on April 17, it wasn't formally issued until 25 days later. There have been several other late-night decisions, many of them simply because of indecision, and some as a result of concession faced with protests. On another instance when Dhaka south city corporation was under lock and key for weeks disrupting services, there was not a word from the local government ministry. No one from the government stepped up to resolve the situation all the while citizens suffered.

Even in this grave crisis, the home adviser, who should have been first on the scene to oversee fire service activities and ensuring appropriate police assistance, was nowhere to be seen. The health adviser who has only been conspicuous by her chronic absenteeism should have been the one taking charge at the hospitals to ensure treatment of the children. Other than a perfunctory appearance, she has not been visible either.

More than two days after the jet crash, the armed forces' public relations department, the health ministry, and the chief adviser's office are putting out conflicting death toll numbers, and as usual, no one is stepping up to address the anomaly.

Born out of an uprising led by the youth, the interim government was expected to blaze a trail. Many hoped it would reflect the wisdom of the Nobel laureate and the confidence of the uprising leaders. Unfortunately, indecisiveness has been its hallmark. It has mishandled and mismanaged only to let situations go beyond control.

Instead of the bold youthfulness that we had hoped for, the interim government is looking increasingly like a juvenile misadventure.