In April 2008, the UN highlighted ten stories it thought the world should know about. One of these was the "hidden world of the stateless". The UN says "Statelessness is a corrosive, soul-destroying condition that can colour almost every aspect of a person's life. People who are not recognized as citizens of any state may be unable to go to school, work legally, own property, get married, or travel. They may find it difficult to enter hospital, and impossible to open a bank account or receive a pension. If someone robs or rapes them, they may not be able to lodge a complaint, because legally they do not exist."

Our film, Swapnabhumi - The Promised Land, looks at the Urdu-speaking community of Bangladesh - also known as "stranded Pakistanis" or "Biharis" - who live in a situation of statelessness in Bangladesh. It's a story which goes back to the painful partition of India in 1947 and the ensuing mass migration of peoples. The big themes of the story are of  genocide, nationalism, identity, betrayal, discrimination and exclusion. It is also, we hope, the beginning of a story of reconciliation and inclusive nationhood.

We start off with a brief look at the genesis of the problem - the partition of India in 1947. Arguably the reverberations of that catastrophic event are felt more acutely by the urdu-speakers of Bangladesh than any other group of people. We use extremely rare colour footage recently unearthed (2007) by the Imperial War Museum, London, of mass migration during partition. We then  trace the troubled relationship the East wing of Pakistan ( now Bangladesh)  had with the West wing, and the fateful allegiance that developed between the Urdu-speakers and the West Pakistani political elite. Between 1947 and 1971, the cultural distinctiveness, the political inequality and the geographical separation between the two wings of Pakistan produced  a variety of tensions and the manifestation of that was the Bengali language movement. This was a movement the "Biharis" in general could not feel a part of.

The pace of the film changes as we listen to harrowing stories from the year 1971, the year of Bangladesh's liberation war. This is the war which saw half of Pakistan deciding to secede and call into question the very basis of nationhood in Pakistan.  These are painful, personal eye-witness accounts of murder and mayhem. Of one's loved ones. Of one's neighbours. We hear devastating stories from both sides of the language divide. (It's worth noting that there are no oral-history archives from this community).

The conjuncture in Bangladesh is such that this is a an important reminder that there is a politics of remembering and forgetting - a politics of creating and revising social memory. Perhaps it is about time and distance but clearly in Bangladesh there is contestation about what can be, should be and allowed to be remembered about the war (see the study by Yvette Claire Rosser called "Indoctrinating Minds, A Case Study of Bangladesh") and this matter extends to what "should" be remembered about the "bihari" community. Again, maybe it is about time and distance but it has implications for citizenship and for reconciliation and inclusiveness.

The film crew travels to different camps in Bangladesh to conduct these interviews. There are 116 such settlements or camps where the Urdu-speakers were interned for their safety in 1971 and 1972. The UNHCR estimates that a 168,000 people live in these areas .  (It's again worth noting that camp dwellers have been excluded from census surveys). They live in these camps disenfranchised and deprived of fundamental rights. As we view the footage it becomes patently obvious that the living conditions are horrendous.  We hear of their neglect by NGOs, human rights organisations and civil society institutions. (Go to the gallery page to get an idea of what the best of these camps looks like).

The story of the neglect as perceived by camp residents targets higher levels of authority as we hear from the Stranded Pakistanis General Repatriation Committee, an established community group, about the  betrayals by successive Pakistani governments in the matter of repatriation.

For many, however, repatriation is no longer an issue. (This is not to deny the validity of the sentiments of those whose families have remained divided for almost four decades.) Here are some studies:

• In a 1999 survey by the Refugee and Migratory Movements Research Unit, 86.4 percent said they would opt for Bangladeshi citizenship.
• In a 2005 Survey by Al-Falah Bangladesh, 85 percent preferred to live in Bangladesh. 82 percent perceived themselves as Bangladeshis.
• The ongoing "Dhaka Initiative" survey suggests that more than 90 percent of the "Biharis" favour Bangladeshi reintegration
• In a 2005 consultation meeting on the "Urdu speaking communitgy's own perception about their future in Bangladesh" most of the speakers from 11 Bihari organisations said that a large or overwhelming majority of the settlement occupants considered themselves to be Bangladeshis and wanted rehabilitation with dignity.

In 2008, what is critical is the necessity to claim effective citizenship rights for the camp dwellers. The camp dwellers need to be registered as voters as this will have major implications for access to services. We hear in the documentary that successive Bangladeshi governments have not acted in accordance with the laws of the land and have not taken into account the pronouncements of the higher judiciary. Khalid Hussian, our researcher and community activist, was part of a group of people who won a landmark ruling known as the "Abid Khan case". He takes us to his camp and to India and meditates on his identity. As someone who sees himself as a Bangladeshi, but an Urdu-speaker, how is he supposed to feel about the Language Movement and about Bangladesh's Victory Day? He and his friends, including our other Research Assistant, Mohammad Hasan, discuss this dimension of rootlessness. 

The  deprivation of citizenship, insecurity, the discrimination and the helplessness of camp life are some of the motives for harking back to this dream idyll called Swapnabhumi - the promised land. It is a wish for a better future.