Dr. Naomi Hossain is Global Research Professor of Development Studies at SOAS University of London. She is Bangladeshi-Irish and has lived in Bangladesh, Indonesia, the UK and the US. She previously worked at the Research and Evaluation Division of BRAC, the world’s largest NGO; the Institute of Development Studies at Sussex University; and at the Accountability Research Center at American University in Washington DC. She recently spoke to Bonik Barta to talk about the new Bangladesh edition of her book The Aid Lab and the 1974 famine, its aftermath, cause, effects, and the journey we had so far. Interviewed by Sabidin Ibrahim. Transcription by Minhazul Abedin.

In the book, The Aid Lab, you mentioned that you have to stop to wipe out tears from the keyboard. Why is so?

The book places the 1974 famine at the center of its narrative, explaining why Bangladesh developed a relatively inclusive, successful, and pro-poor development model.

The famine was an utterly horrific event. One particularly famous film by investigative journalist John Pilger, titled An Unfashionable Tragedy, covers the 1974 famine extensively, and there are various other video sources as well. Additionally, there is a highly regarded, though now out-of-print, book called Famine in South Asia, written by Bangladeshi economist Muhiuddin Alamgir.

Alamgir, along with other economists from the Bangladesh Institute of Development Studies (BIDS), conducted a comprehensive survey of the ‘Longorkhana’ (the soup kitchens) and the feeding camps set up in 1974. Their findings revealed some truly harrowing accounts of the extreme hunger, the loss of dignity, and the loss of lives. The famine caused immense disruption, tearing families apart, and the Bangladeshi government was tragically unable to respond effectively. It did not have the capacity.

Moreover, the United States government withheld food aid during this time. The entirety of this situation made me profoundly angry and deeply saddened. There were moments during my research when I had to pause, overwhelmed by the intensity of these emotions. This is precisely why I wrote about it.

Why this famine occurred in 1974? Why not in ‘72 or ‘73, immediately after the war? And what’s the reason behind it? Is it conflict of ideas, ideologies or mismanagement?

So, what we understand now is that famines are always complex issues, arising from a multitude of factors. However, those of us who study famines agree that, ultimately, a famine occurs because it is not prevented: the government, or whoever holds power at the time, fails to take action. In some cases, famine strikes in places where no functioning government exists, but in any scenario, those in authority fail to prevent it.

To address the question of why a famine didn’t occur in 1972 or 1973—this is an excellent question. Some research conducted during that period suggested that there was a kind of famine in 1971-71, but it was exported to India, along with the 10 million refugees fleeing the war. In a sense, there was a famine-like situation, and Bangladesh had been experiencing conditions similar to famine for decades both before and after 1974. After the war, foreign aid poured in during 1972 and 1973, but by 1974, this aid began to decrease, becoming more focused on long-term development rather than being relief-focused.

In response to whether the 1974 famine was a result of ideological clashes or mismanagement, it was a combination of factors. I have closely examined the available literature on the famine, which was quite thoroughly documented in the 1980s. Amartya Sen’s renowned essay on famine, which uses the 1974 famine as a case study, is one notable source. Another key work is Muhiuddin Alamgir’s book, which provides rich empirical data. While there is a substantial amount of information, much of it stops in the 1980s, and since then, discussions on the topic have been rare. From these resources, we can identify perhaps four main causes.

First, there were devastating floods that year. The Jamuna River burst its banks six times between June and September, washing away crops and displacing large numbers of people. This left many without work, as there were no jobs to harvest the crops. The growing number of Dinmajurs (wage laborers) in Bangladesh found themselves without employment.

Second, there was what we now refer to as ‘famine economics.’ The price of rice surged at an alarming rate. In fact, between 1973 and 1974, the price of rice doubled. The exact reasons for this price increase remain unclear. Some of it was attributed to smuggling and hoarding, with syndicates—many of which still exist today—actively involved in these practices at the time.

The core idea behind the theory of famine economics, particularly Amartya Sen’s theory, is that the famine did not occur due to a lack of food but because people were unable to afford it. They lacked the financial means to buy food, in part due to high prices and because they had no work.

A third contributing factor was Bangladesh’s heavy reliance on international food aid at the time. The government was essentially bankrupt. And the OPEC oil price crisis had exacerbated the situation. Much like the situation in 2024, the price of oil and food had soared, and the government could not afford to import food. A year before the famine struck, Bangladesh pleaded with the US government for help, but the request was denied. The US government cited Bangladesh’s trade relations with Cuba, a communist country, as a violation of US public law (Public Law 480), which governs US food aid. Aid was delayed by a year, only arriving after the worst of the famine had passed.

So the United States also had a role in the 1974 famine?

Absolutely. In 1979-1980, Rehman Sobhan published an important article in the Economic and Political Weekly outlining many of the causes behind the famine. Additionally, I recall discussing the matter with Professor Nurul Islam, one of the first to read the original version of my book when it was published in 2017. He expressed a differing view, saying, “If I were the American government, I wouldn’t have given the aid either.” He argued it was a matter of national interest (for the US). Professor Islam was a very astute and thoughtful individual.

The primary reason the US withheld aid was probably the desire for Bangladesh to shift its direction politically. During the Cold War, Bangladesh’s socialist, non-aligned stance posed challenges for the US, which preferred a more compliant government. Additionally, Bangladesh was geopolitically insignificant at the time, and the US had more pressing concerns.

A fourth reason, and perhaps the most critical, was the weakness of the state’s administrative capacity. After the war, Bangladesh was left in ruins, with limited local government capacity and resources. There was simply no food to distribute, and the Awami League government lacked the authority to hold local governments accountable. The food aid that did arrive was often mismanaged, with some corruption also playing a role.

The central political issue, I believe, is that Bangladesh was heavily dependent on food aid. But this aid largely benefited the middle class and essential workers. For example, the TCB (Trading Corporation of Bangladesh) ration system, which is still in operation today. In the 1970s, it primarily served government employees. If you worked for the government, the army, or in a large factory, you were eligible for rations. The aid did not reach the rural poor, who were not ‘essential categories’. Although the government could in theory have redirected these rations to rural populations, they did not. Perhaps they believed that the middle class in urban areas was more politically active and a greater threat, while the rural poor were silently starving. It is unclear whether they fully understood the extent of the suffering. Official reports listed the death toll as around 28,000, but these numbers were likely an underestimation.

You mentioned 1.5 million died. So why did the government or the officials try to hide the numbers?

I’m not sure if they tried to hide the numbers, but as I mentioned, reliable data from that time is scarce. You also have to consider that Sheikh Mujib was assassinated in August 1975. And people were still dying from the effects of the famine at that time. Famine is not a brief event where people die in just a week because they didn’t eat for a few days. Starvation alone doesn’t kill people. It’s the destruction of the body that ultimately leads to death—damage to vital organs like the heart, liver, and kidneys. People started consuming whatever they could find, often things they shouldn’t eat, such as cattle feed or leaves. This led to various diseases, and the suffering continued for an extended period. Even the food prices remained extremely high well into 1975. I don’t think the Awami League government ever truly grasped the scale of the crisis. They never fully understood it.

The 1.5 million figure I mention comes from a book by Muhiuddin Alamgir, a Bangladeshi economist, which is now out of print. Few discuss this number today, but it is the result of a very thorough analysis. This figure is cited by almost all famine scholars and is generally accepted as credible.

Dr. Abdur Razzaque, the former food minister under the Awami League and a scholar of food security and nutrition, also referenced this number in the 1990s. Those familiar with the issue know that this is a realistic estimate, though some consider it to be conservative. The actual number of deaths may have been even higher.

At that time, Bangladesh did not have a reliable statistical system like we have today. The Bangladesh Bureau of Statistics was not well-established, and nobody had a clear understanding of the population size or who were suffering from hunger. Since then, much has improved, but these were significant challenges in 1974.

Why the culprits are not punished? Why the culprits are still not held accountable?

Who would you punish? Who are you going to punish for mismanagement? What will you mismanage if you don’t have any food, if you don’t have any money to buy food? Who are you going to punish?

Is famine always a man-made issue?

I would never make such a big statement. Famines occur due to a multitude of factors. As for whether the famine in 1974 was man-made, it’s complicated. Would you say the floods were man-made? That was one contributing factor. Would you say the OPEC oil price crisis was man-made? Yes, perhaps, but not by anyone in Bangladesh. The Cold War, which also played a role, was another man-made factor, but again, who in Bangladesh is to blame for that?

You also have to consider why people starve. They starve because they have been malnourished for many years. This was the situation in Bangladesh. When the country became independent, studies showed that a significant portion of the population was already malnourished and impoverished, even before the war. So, who is to be held accountable? It’s a great question, and one that requires further research. I’m just one person who has written one book on the subject, but many more studies are needed to fully understand the worst catastrophe in our history.

People are still shocked when I mention that 1.5 million people died. I asked a friend of mine today, an older woman in her 70s, how many people she thought died. She said, “Maybe one lakh.” I replied, “No.” She was stunned, saying, “Oh my God, I didn’t know. Nobody knows. Nobody knows.”

Oh, you mentioned an interesting story about Shilpacharjo Zainul Abidin. He painted a lot on 1943 famine, but why only a single painting on 1974 famine?

I had only ever found one of those paintings. But recently, while I was in Dhaka, a foreigner approached me and mentioned that there are actually five such paintings by Zainul Abidin. He found out that Zainul Abidin’s son has one, there’s one in the museum, and a few others are in private collections. He’s been tracking them down and will be writing an article in Prothom Alo soon about it.

I was at my friend’s house on Tuesday; he’s an art collector. We were discussing the famine in 1974, and I mentioned Zainul Abedin’s work. He replied, “Oh, I’ve got one of those.” And sure enough, on the wall, there it was—a tragic sketch 1975, Brahmanbaria, October. It was haunting, really. There are more of them, too.

What’s particularly striking is that Zainul’s sketches of the famine in 1943 caused an uproar—a national and international scandal. These pictures were displayed in the UK and other places; they shocked the world and became a public issue. But by 1974, those same kinds of paintings ended up in the collections of the elite. Nobody saw them, and no one knew about them. But today, these paintings are becoming incredibly valuable. Isn’t that ironic?

How you can connect 1974 famine with 1943 and the Irish potato famine? As your mother is from Ireland and your father is from Rangpur. There is a strong connection between Ireland and Bangladesh.

Absolutely, there is. My mother was the first to introduce me to the concept of famine when I was a child. I had a book about Irish history with images of starving children, and she explained to me what famine was and how devastating it could be.

You’re right. Famine is inherently political, regardless of whether it results from a natural disaster or, like in Gaza in recent months which is caused by deliberate and forced starvation. It’s a horrific phenomenon, and many terrible things happen during a famine.

What I find especially interesting from a political perspective is that famine often presents an opportunity for powerful governments or entities to experiment with various strategies, knowing that the affected people are desperate and will accept any food or assistance. You can do all sorts of unethical things when people are starving.

Scholars of the Irish famine have suggested that the British government, during the Irish potato famine of the 1840s, experimented with capitalist ideologies and social welfare models on the Irish people. They viewed the Irish as expendable, as ‘the lowest of the low.’ I think there were some similar dynamics at play in 1974, although it’s hard to prove conclusively. I’m exploring these ideas in my book. I believe the Americans saw the famine as a chance to use food aid as leverage. The question was whether they could influence the Bangladeshi government to align with their preferred policies by controlling the food supply.

There was a book at the time called Famine 1975, an American publication that became quite influential. It’s a deeply troubling book—racist, violent, and deeply problematic. But its central argument was that the United States, with its monopoly on food aid, could decide who lived and who died. It’s chilling to think that some people in the US State Department might have believed that they held this kind of power, using food aid as a tool to exert control.

That’s one reason why I titled my book The Aid Lab. After 1974, Bangladesh became a testing ground for various experiments in aid and development. It was a place where all kinds of policies and interventions were tried out, often with the desperate population caught in the middle. I explore this in more detail in the book.

If you see the story of South Korea, Malaysia, Singapore, they developed a lot comparing ours. So the aftermath of 1974 famine, what do you see? Was is good that the aid that was flooding Bangladesh? Was it good for Bangladesh?

That’s not exactly how I understand it. What I think happened after 1974 was that there was a political crisis that we all know about in 1975. And I think that event taught the Bangladeshi ruling class, the Bangladeshi elite, that they would lose legitimacy and political power, maybe even their lives, if they allowed people to starve on their watch. Even if it wasn’t their fault, even if they couldn’t do anything about it, if a famine-like disaster happened, they would lose their legitimacy. They would become an illegitimate government.

This, I think, was the basis of a kind of social contract. After 1974, we never had a famine again. Looking at the data, we should have had many famines. Bangladeshis were very hungry, very poor. There were many disasters. But the politics changed. Another thing that changed was the policies. Bangladesh became a real pioneer for pro-poor policies, targeting the poor, especially rural women, with various services, particularly food assistance and cash assistance.

Bangladesh had, until recently a really quite effective system for managing hunger. So, we have the Vulnerable Group Feeding programme, the Vulnerable Group Development scheme, the Open Market Sales, ‘test relief’, ‘gratuitous relief’, all these programs in the rural areas. OMS is in the cities, of course. But all of these really only emerged after 1974.

And these programmes do two things, at least. They help to stabilize the price of rice so it doesn’t go too high or too low. If it goes too low, that’s not good either, for farmers and rural. markets. But these programmes also mean that, in those moments when people are hungry, they can get something. That was a pioneering effort.

The other thing that’s interesting is when you look at organizations like Grameen Bank and BRAC—these very innovative social organizations—they all emerged after 1974. BRAC was initially started after the Bhola Cyclone.

As for Grameen Bank, Professor Yunus has written about his experience as an economics professor at Chittagong University in 1974 in his biographies. He’s an economics professor, and then he’s looking at the famine and thinking, “Why can’t economics help me understand this?” And this was really the foundation of the Grameen Bank.

So, the relationship between the elite and the rural masses changed. Because I think in the mindset of the elite and the middle classes, their idea was that, “Okay, everyone in the village is fine. Somebody is taking care of them. There is a traditional social system.” Actually, the famine showed that this system wasn’t working. Nobody was helping those people. That traditional social system, if it ever really worked, was broken by 1974—maybe because of the war, maybe because of decades of poverty. It was broken.

The role of women is an important issue in your book. After 1974, famine, if you see, in the garment sector, more than 4 million women is there. And in microfinance, women are the key character. So how you see the women engagement in Bangladesh policymaking from micro-level to macro-level?

That’s an excellent question. I think it’s important to note that, if you visit other countries, you would be surprised at how unacceptable it is for women to have a role like they have in Bangladesh. In Bangladesh there is broad acceptance of this, even among those—perhaps including Islamists—who might not typically support women’s public presence. There is significant acceptance of women’s roles for various reasons.

I recommend reading Naila Kabeer’s recent book Renegotiating Patriarchy: Gender, Agency and the Bangladesh Paradox. It is free to download and read. Naila Kabeer, a retired professor from LSE, has written extensively on Bangladesh, gender, and women’s empowerment over the decades.

Her first study was conducted in the 1970s, and for this book she returned recently, 50 years later, to revisit the same people in order to understand how women’s lives have evolved and how they have contributed to changing not only their own lives but also the country as a whole.

I believe 1974 marked a turning point when it became evident that women could not remain confined to the house. If they did, no one would feed them. Many women were widowed after the war, and the extreme poverty and crisis fundamentally broke some traditional norms in a way that were never fully reconstructed.

Particularly, the right for women to work and earn an income was firmly established. Because, without it, who would feed their families? This, I believe, became solidified. Moreover, the Bangladeshi state, regardless of which government was in power, always recognized the importance of women in the development process. Given that the country had little wealth, its most valuable asset was its people. While some may describe the population as excessive, I would argue that we have an abundance of human resources. It is women—mothers and families—who nurture these resources, raise children, socialize them, educate them, and prepare them to become citizens.

I think all governments have acknowledged this, and as a result, women have become key agents of development.

How this book is relevant today, and how we can learn from the failure of 1974, and how we can check this type of catastrophe ahead?

I believe there are several lessons to be drawn from this experience. One of the key lessons is the necessity of a government or state that is attentive to the needs of the people, one that listens to their problems and remains capable. It must not be so insulated by power and wealth that it becomes disconnected from the concerns of the population.

Clearly, the most effective way for a government to be held accountable is through democracy. However, Bangladesh’s democratic experience has been less extensive than its non-democratic periods. That said, there have been instances where governments have been effective in listening, even if they were not elected. Until they became too powerful, too arrogant, and too insulated—they listen, especially on issues related to hunger. In such cases, the government lost its ability to listen.

The type of state that is needed is one that is capable of understanding and responding to the problems faced by its people. In addition to political will, the state needs to have sufficient resources, food security, and strong diplomatic relations with other countries to ensure it can import goods if necessary. At the same time, it must have the capacity to produce and store enough resources domestically. The importance of food storage cannot be overstated.

There was a point when the World Bank advised the Bangladeshi government to close down its food storage warehouses and instead purchase food from the international market as needed. However, when the 2008 crisis hit, and India ceased exporting rice, Bangladesh was unable to secure rice on the market, causing rice prices to spike. This event occurred during the last caretaker government’s time in office.

So, two key factors emerge: political commitment and state capacity. While democracy is valuable, it does not automatically ensure that these elements will be present. Some non-democratic governments have also been able to maintain these critical functions.

I would also like you to consider what happened in July during the monsoon uprising. Think about the fact that there were several student movements before 2024. These included protests against VAT on private education, road safety issues, the quota movement, and others. Prior to 2024, the rest of society did not join these student movements; it was primarily the students who took to the streets. However, in 2024, the situation changed, and the general public did join the students.

Some have argued, and I believe this is true, that the reason this movement became such a large-scale, truly national movement—a cross-class alliance—was because people across society were incredibly frustrated with the ongoing inflation crisis and the government’s failure to address it. In fact, the situation was deteriorating further, and the government appeared incapable of responding. Additionally, there had just been an ‘election’, and it was clear that it was impossible to remove the failing government through conventional means. In such a scenario, where everything seems to be worsening and no one is listening, and where removal of the government is not an option, I hear again the lessons of 1974.