How Indian cartoonists depicted Bangladesh’s 1971 Liberation War

The Bangladesh Liberation War of 1971, one of the most politically significant events in the history of the subcontinent, generated an extraordinary volume of documentation – official records, journalistic reports, memoirs, novels, plays and songs.

It also inspired political cartoons, which recorded and interpreted events, often with a sharpness that conventional reportage could not match. Political cartoons are, in a sense, journalism distilled – compressed arguments rendered in ink and wit. In moments of crisis or upheaval, their capacity to condense irony and moral clarity becomes even more pronounced.

Indian newspapers such as Anandabazar Patrika, Jugantar, Desh, Darpan, Amritabazar Patrika, The Statesman and Hindustan Standard published cartoons about the situation across the border with remarkable regularity throughout 1971, creating a parallel narrative alongside the headlines.

The artists behind these images – Amal Chakraborty, Chandi Lahiri, Sufi (Naren Roy), Kutty (PKS Kutty), Sudhir Dar, Rebati Bhushan, Abu, Lakshan, and others – formed a loose but formidable fraternity. Their works appeared not only in Bengali-language newspapers but also in English dailies, extending their reach across India and, in some cases, beyond.

This sustained visual discourse tracked the evolution of the war with remarkable sensitivity.

Changing tones of cartoons

Cartoons, by their nature, do not simply describe events: they select, exaggerate and reframe, producing a version of reality that is at once subjective and revealing. In the case of 1971, at least four overlapping narrative frameworks can be discerned.

For Bangladesh, the year signified liberation, genocide, and the birth of a nation. For India, it was a humanitarian crisis that demanded moral and logistical responses – sheltering millions of refugees, training freedom fighters, building international support and ultimately intervening militarily.

For Pakistan, the narrative was one of dismemberment, often explained through the language of conspiracy involving India, local Hindu populations and nationalist politicians.

Meanwhile, much of the international media, particularly in the United States, framed the conflict first as a civil war between East and West Pakistan and later as a conventional war between India and Pakistan.

These competing narratives found visual expression in the cartoons in India, sometimes clashing, sometimes converging, but always illuminating the ideological terrain.

The progression of the war from March to December is mirrored in the changing tone and content of the cartoons. In the early months – March and April – the focus was on the non-cooperation movement in East Pakistan, the mass uprising, the brutality of the Pakistani military under President Yahya Khan and the conspiratorial maneuvers of Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, the chairman of the Pakistan People's Party.

Cartoonists also turned their attention to the silence – or complicity – of the global community, particularly criticising the policies of the United States and China. These early cartoons are marked by a sense of foreboding, an awareness that the political deadlock was sliding toward violence.

By May and June, the lens shifted inward slightly. Indian policies came under scrutiny, especially the hesitancy to formally recognise Bangladesh. Cartoonists questioned the government’s caution, portraying it as indecision in the face of mounting atrocities.

At the same time, Pakistan’s provocations continued to be depicted with increasing ferocity. The months of July, August, and September saw a growing emphasis on the refugee crisis, which had by then reached staggering proportions.

Millions of people had crossed into India, particularly into West Bengal, straining resources and altering the social fabric. Cartoons from this period often juxtapose human suffering with bureaucratic inertia, highlighting the enormity of the crisis.

As the year moved into its final quarter – October, November, and December – the tone of the cartoons sharpened further. There was a palpable anticipation of Pakistan’s defeat, accompanied by intensified criticism of the United States and China for their geopolitical alignments.

By December, with the war’s outcome becoming clear, cartoons began to celebrate victory, often with a mix of triumph and sardonic humor. The arc from despair to vindication is rendered through a series of visual snapshots, each capturing a moment of emotional and political intensity.

Resonating with public sentiment

Recurring characters populated these cartoons, serving as visual shorthand for larger political entities. Bangladeshi leader Sheikh Mujibur Rahman often appeared as the embodiment of the Bangladeshi people – tall, resolute, and dignified.

Indian Prime Minister Indira Gandhi and, occasionally, other Indian leaders represented the Indian state, sometimes as a burdened yet determined figure. Pakistan’s president, General Yahya Khan, was frequently depicted as a monstrous or grotesque figure, emphasising the brutality of the Pakistani military regime, while Bhutto appeared as a scheming conspirator.

International figures such as US President Richard Nixon and China’s Mao Zedong were caricatured to critique the policies of their governments, often shown as distant, calculating, or indifferent to human suffering.

The effectiveness of these cartoons, however, cannot be understood in isolation from the political culture in which they were produced. As prominent Indian journalist and cartoonist Chandi Lahiri once observed, very few cartoons actually create public opinion; rather, they resonate when they align with existing sentiments.

A cartoon that captures the mood of the moment can become instantly popular because it articulates what people already feel but cannot easily express. In this sense, the cartoons of 1971 offer a valuable window into public perception, particularly in Calcutta, where the proximity to the conflict made it impossible to remain detached.

The broader context of global civil society also played a role. Across the world, ordinary people, activists, writers, and artists mobilised in support of Bangladesh. Marches, rallies, and cultural interventions sought to draw attention to the genocide and the refugee crisis.

Cartoonists were part of this larger ecosystem of resistance, contributing through satire and symbolism.

Cartoonists who stood out

Among the prominent figures, Amal Chakraborty stands out for his sustained engagement with the war. Working primarily with Jugantar, he produced a series of cartoons that were later republished in English-language newspapers as well.

His March 3 cartoon in Jugantar, for instance, captures the political tension surrounding the postponed session of Pakistan’s National Assembly. Sheikh Mujib’s Awami League had won a majority but Bhutto refused to accept it. Mujib is depicted as a calm yet towering figure, embodying resolve, while Yahya Khan represents the looming threat of military power.

Bhutto appears as an instigator, warning against reconciliation. The composition is simple, but the implications are profound: a political stalemate on the brink of collapse.

Chandi Lahiri contributed extensively through the “Tirjak” section of Anandabazar and Desh. His April 10 cartoon critiques the voyeuristic curiosity of some West Bengalis who flocked to border areas as if witnessing a spectacle.

By asking whether genocide could be treated as entertainment, Lahiri turned the gaze back on his own society, exposing its moral ambiguities. A day later, on April 11, he depicted Yahya Khan celebrating Easter with a shopping bag full of human skulls – a chilling image that encapsulates the grotesque normalization of violence.

Cartoonist Kutty’s work, meanwhile, is notable for its stylistic variation and conceptual breadth. His March 6 cartoon in the Desh weekly titled “Challenge” presents Mujib as a towering, almost mythic figure, contrasted with a diminished Bhutto.

In May 22, in Desh, he depicted India as a camel burdened with multiple crises – economic, political, and social – while the refugee problem threatened to destabilise everything. His later cartoons, especially those from September and December, adopt a more overtly theatrical tone, portraying global leaders in staged scenarios that underscore their detachment or hypocrisy.

Sufi, or Naren Roy, though less celebrated, produced a remarkable body of work under the title “Obartho” in Jugantar. His early identification on March 21 of Bhutto as a genocidal figure, even before the official onset of mass killings on March 25, demonstrates a keen political intuition.

His “Refugee” cartoon juxtaposes violence in East Pakistan with instability in West Bengal, creating a dual narrative of suffering. Another cartoon, titled “Who Will Save Us,” situates Bangladesh within a broader landscape of Cold War conflicts, linking it to crises in Cambodia, Vietnam, and Laos. The question it poses is both rhetorical and urgent, reflecting a sense of abandonment by the international community.

These diverse works remind us that the history of 1971 was also drawn in lines and shadows, where incisive cartoons captured the weight of a nation’s struggle.

All these cartoons are from the book Cartoon e Muktijuddho by Muntasir Mamoon and Chowdhury Shahid Kader.

March 26 is Bangladesh Independence Day.

Faisal Mahmud is a Dhaka-based journalist.