30 July 2024: The day social media turned red
Netizens rejected the government-declared day of mourning by changing their Facebook profile pictures to red. The symbolic digital campaign turned into a powerful act of defiance against state violence
Even today, Awami League activists and sympathisers use a particular word to mock the pro-July Uprising individuals — 'Lal Badr'. Inspired by the infamous pro-Pakistani militia force Al Badr in 1971, this moniker denotes the people who changed their profile pictures to red on 30 July 2024, rejecting the government's farcical national mourning.
By dawn that day, the Awami League government's attempt to orchestrate a narrative of national grief had already begun to unravel. In response to the staggering death toll from the quota reform protests, the state had formally declared a day of national mourning, instructing citizens to don black badges and mandating special prayers across mosques, temples, and churches.
However, for a generation that had just witnessed indiscriminate gunfire on its streets, this gesture was perceived not as empathy, but as an intolerable farce, a cruel mockery. The students and the masses categorically rejected the state's black badges, setting the stage for one of the most visually arresting days of the July Uprising.
What began as a late-night, organic digital campaign to turn Facebook profiles a solid crimson rapidly bled into the physical world, emboldening citizens to take to the streets in red attire and compelling even the High Court to forcefully condemn the state's illegal detentions and violence.
Ultimately, this 'red profile rebellion' stripped the regime of its narrative control, sharply dividing the nation between the state's hollow black and the people's uncompromising red, and signalling that the state's apparatus of fear was fundamentally broken.
Red profile pictures flood Facebook
The decision to counter the government's mourning programme was a deliberate, strategic manoeuvre to expose the state's hypocrisy. Behind the scenes, student leaders and political organisers scrambled to formulate a response.
According to S M Farhad, secretary of the Dhaka University unit of Islami Chhatra Shibir, when the Shibir president Abu Sadik Kayem sought his advice regarding the state's black flag initiative, the counter-strategy was stark and immediate.
"Since they are going with black, we should go with red," Farhad allegedly responded. Red was chosen as the visceral symbol of the blood spilt on the streets, directly protesting the killings.
Simultaneously, discussions among stakeholders, including Chhatra Dal's Nasir Uddin Nasir and Students Against Discrimination (SAD) coordinators Mahin Sarker and Rifat Rashid, refined the visual language of the protest. Initially, the plan was to tie red cloths around the eyes and mouths — a powerful metaphor representing the suppression of free speech and the government's attempt to blindfold the nation to a massacre. SAD coordinator Mahin Sarker officially announced this programme via text messages to the media on the night of 29 July.
Yet, tying red clothes physically proved difficult for many. At midnight, an organic digital shift occurred. A university student, Nurul Islam Nahid, uploaded a solid red profile picture as a digital red card to the government. Because changing a profile picture was far more accessible than sourcing red fabric late at night, the idea spread like wildfire.
By the morning of 30 July, Facebook, the most popular social media site in Bangladesh, was completely engulfed in a tidal wave of red. It was an unprecedented act of online resistance. Millions of ordinary citizens, rock bands, actors, and journalists transformed their digital identities. Teachers from various educational institutions, including Asif Nazrul of Dhaka University, joined the fray, as did prominent literary figures and journalists.
The 'red profile picture rebellion' stripped the regime of its narrative control, sharply dividing the nation between the state's hollow black and the people's uncompromising red, and signalling that the state's apparatus of fear was fundamentally broken.
The nation found itself sharply divided into two distinct warring camps: the state's black and the people's red. While black symbolised mourning, the people chose red because it symbolises revolution and love. Red is the symbol of valour and courage. This digital defiance quickly bled into the physical world, with young men and women appearing on the streets of towns and villages wearing red shirts, tops, and sarees. The soft programme had succeeded in uniting a fractured, terrified populace.
The defiance of 30 July was not confined to the internet. Academics, deeply shaken by the term they had coined the 'July Massacre,' stepped out to stand with their students. Teachers at Jahangirnagar University and across the country took to the streets with red cloths tied around their faces in solidarity.
Emboldened by the overwhelming success of the red profile campaign, the movement prepared to pivot back to hard, physical programmes. To protest the mass arrests, block raids, and killings, the Anti-Discrimination Student Movement announced their next major initiative: the 'March for Justice,' calling upon citizens to descend on courts, campuses, and streets nationwide on 31 July. Furthermore, academic solidarity extended to Rajshahi University, where teachers held an anti-oppression rally demanding the immediate release of detained students.
'We have come to protect our children'
On 29 July, Supreme Court lawyers Aynunnahar Siddiqa and Manzur Al Matin filed a writ petition seeking an immediate halt to law enforcement shooting at protesters, and demanding the release of six SAD coordinators held in Detective Branch (DB) custody. Driven by a desperate need to protect the nation's youth, Matin stated, "We have come to the court just to protect our children."
During the hearing on 30 July, the High Court bench, led by Justice Mustafa Zaman Islam and Justice S M Masud Hossain Dolon, delivered unprecedentedly sharp rebukes to the state. The court expressed deep institutional sorrow over the nationwide violence, stating, "We are ashamed of the violence and deaths of people centering the anti-quota movement. All deaths are tragic."
The bench fiercely criticised the DB police for releasing photographs of the detained coordinators being fed at a dining table—an act civil society organisations like Transparency International Bangladesh had already condemned as a deceptive and unethical attempt to coerce the students into withdrawing their protests.
Admonishing the authorities, the court declared, "Do not make a mockery of the nation. They did not ask for security. Keeping them in custody like this is illegal."
The courtroom itself mirrored the volatile state of the country, erupting into chaotic scuffles and fierce arguments between pro-Awami League and pro-BNP lawyers during the proceedings. While the court initially fixed 31 July to deliver an order, the hearing was ultimately derailed when the junior judge took leave due to illness, leading to the writ's dismissal days later on 4 August.
International echoes
The sheer scale of the repression could no longer be contained within the country's borders.
74 eminent Bangladeshi citizens had already issued a joint statement demanding a UN-supervised investigation into the killings. This domestic plea was amplified on the global stage when UN Secretary-General António Guterres issued a statement expressing profound concern over the mass arrests, the detention of thousands of youths, and widespread human rights violations, strongly criticising the excessive use of force by security personnel and demanding an independent investigation.
By the time the sun set on 30 July, the Awami League's attempt to engineer a state-mandated day of mourning had spectacularly backfired. Stripped of its legitimacy, the state watched as its citizens rejected the black badges of compliance for the red banners of defiance, setting the stage for a reckoning that the government could no longer suppress.
