Sei U Sen and The Day of the Jackal: Tracing Forsyth’s footprint in the world of Masud Rana and beyond
In early 1970, Frederick Forsyth sat down in his modest bedsit with an old typewriter and wrote The Day of the Jackal in just 35 days. Nine years later, Bangla-speaking readers fell in love with the British author after the novel was adapted into Sei U Sen

The Masud Rana series by Qazi Anwar Hussain began its journey in 1966. That year, two books, Dhongsho Pahar and Bharat Natyam, were released in quick succession, both being original works by Hussain himself.
However, a shortage of original story ideas soon emerged. For the next two books, he drew inspiration from Ian Fleming's James Bond series. Thereafter, he turned one by one to the works of writers like Alistair MacLean, Edward S Aarons, and James Hadley Chase, adapting and localising their plots for the Masud Rana universe.
But it wasn't possible for Hussain, affectionately known as Qazida, to keep adapting book after book on his own. Writing and publishing a new title every month or two simply wasn't sustainable. Gradually, ghostwriters such as Sheikh Abdul Hakim, Rakib Hasan, Niaz Murshed, and Kazi Mahbub Hossain came on board to carry the mantle.
Interestingly, Qazida himself eventually grew weary of spy thrillers. In a 1991 interview with Weekly Bichinta, he admitted that he could not get through more than four of Ian Fleming's novels, finding the stories too repetitive.
That same monotony seeped into the Masud Rana series as a whole. No matter how many new titles were published, drawing inspiration from world-renowned spy and suspense thrillers, they remained bound within a predictable formula.
Meanwhile, with limited access to a wide range of foreign books in Bangladesh in the 1970s, sourcing fresh plots became an increasingly difficult challenge. This struggle became apparent in the newer Masud Rana titles as well.
It was during this dry spell, in 1979, that the first volume of Sei U Sen breathed new life into the series. Its sequel followed the next year.
U Sen, a once-notorious Burmese bandit leader who later rose to head the European crime syndicate Union Corse, emerged as one of the most formidable villains in Masud Rana's world.
Rana first encountered him in Rangoon while attempting to foil a sinister plot threatening the future of newly independent Bangladesh. This gripping tale is told in the book Rokter Rong.
But it is in Sei U Sen that the character appears in his most menacing form. Having been defeated in Burma, U Sen returns some time later — stronger, more vengeful, and utterly relentless. This time, he is determined to bring Masud Rana down at any cost. As a result, Rana faces perhaps the greatest danger of his life in this gripping instalment.
Together, these two volumes are widely regarded as one the most celebrated in the Masud Rana series. At the time, Sei U Sen was on everyone's lips. Readers echoed a shared sentiment: after a long stretch of formulaic entries, a Masud Rana novel had finally shattered the monotony.
It's worth noting that several other standout titles, such as I Love You, Man and Agnipurush, were published in later years. Hence, around 1979–80, when the Sei U Sen books first appeared, many readers believed this was the finest Masud Rana story ever written.
So, what exactly made Sei U Sen resonate so deeply with readers? Undoubtedly, its riveting premise, taut pacing, and relentless suspense played a part. But what truly elevated the novel was its remarkably realistic narrative, something that set it apart in a series often known for stylised fiction.
Anyone reading the book would be struck by how meticulously crafted it was: blending real-life elements, thorough research, and careful attention to detail. It felt unusually grounded in reality, a quality largely missing from most Masud Rana titles of that time.
And so, perhaps unknowingly, Bangla-speaking readers fell in love with a British author, or more precisely, with his distinctive style of storytelling.
Because while Sei U Sen was adapted into a Masud Rana novel by Sheikh Abdul Hakim, its original source was Frederick Forsyth's 1971 thriller The Day of the Jackal.
In that sense, a significant part of the credit for Sei U Sen's extraordinary popularity rightfully belongs to Forsyth.
And when we look back at Frederick Forsyth's life and how he came to be an author, it becomes clear that writing a story like Sei U Sen — or rather, The Day of the Jackal — was something only he could have done.
Born in 1938 in the English county of Kent, Forsyth's path was far from conventional. At just 18, he enlisted in the Royal Air Force, training as a fighter pilot — a role that would later lend authenticity to the military precision in his storytelling.
After leaving the RAF, he shifted to journalism, reporting for Reuters and then the BBC. But even journalism didn't define the full scope of his career. Decades later, Forsyth would reveal that he had also spent over 20 years working with MI6, the British foreign intelligence service — a secret he managed to keep even from his publishers.
This rare combination of experiences — military, journalistic and clandestine — shaped the kind of fiction Forsyth was capable of writing. His novels weren't just thrillers; they were blueprints of operations, laced with technical accuracy and an insider's eye.
Governments were often forced to confirm that the tactics described in his pages weren't just plausible; they were actually in use.
Forsyth's break with the BBC was also telling.
In 1967, while assigned to report on the Nigerian Civil War from the heart of the Biafran conflict, he grew frustrated with the BBC and the Foreign Office's unquestioning acceptance of official Nigerian statements that minimised the crisis.
Determined to tell the full story, Forsyth began submitting reports that highlighted the secessionist Biafra perspective and the mounting humanitarian disaster.

This stance earned him an official reprimand and a recall to London, but he soon returned to Nigeria at his own expense as a freelance journalist to continue covering the brutal war. During this period, he authored The Biafra Story (1969), a Penguin Special detailing the conflict.
It was also during this time that his collaboration with MI6 began. Moreover, during this time, Forsyth formed close ties with mercenaries: men who knew how to vanish, how to forge a passport, how to neutralise a threat silently. These gritty lessons would feed directly into the book that made him a household name.
Then, in early 1970, out of work and out of money, Forsyth sat down in his modest bedsit with an old typewriter and wrote The Day of the Jackal in just 35 days. The premise of the novel was audacious: In the summer of 1963, a professional assassin is hired to kill French President Charles de Gaulle.
But the problem was that de Gaulle was still alive in real life. That alone led to multiple rejections from publishers. After all, who would bet on a thriller whose ending — a failed assassination — was already a matter of historical record?
Yet, according to world-renowned thriller writer Lee Child, this very aspect was what made the book revolutionary.
"It had a wholly new approach. It was talking about how things were done, rather than whether something would succeed," Lee said in a 2021 interview.
"The blunt question 'will he, won't he?' is what happens in most thrillers. 'Will the bomb go off or will it be defused? Will it be a disaster or will the day be saved?'"
Child pointed to authors like Alistair MacLean, Desmond Bagley, Hammond Innes, and Nevil Shute, noting that their works were "all fundamentally a yes or no question."
By contrast, The Day of the Jackal shifted the focus entirely. It was "about the minutiae of the process."
"That was a completely radical change, it hadn't been done before," Child added.
And so, eventually, a publisher took a gamble to publish Forsyth's work. A small initial print run was released, and to everyone's surprise, the book soared, first in Britain, then internationally.
Dubbed "an assassin's manual" by some critics, the novel was a breakthrough. It introduced a new model for the political thriller: one where real events and names blurred with fictional conspiracies, all delivered in a brisk, journalistic tone.
The Day of the Jackal marked Forsyth's first foray into fiction — and what a debut it was. The book's resounding success, followed by a popular film adaptation, launched him into the literary spotlight. From that point on, he never had to look back.
By the time he passed away on 9 June, at the age of 86, Frederick Forsyth had authored over 25 books — including acclaimed titles like The Odessa File and The Dogs of War — and sold more than 75 million copies worldwide. Numerous films and series have been adapted from his novels, with several more projects currently underway.
His impact on the literary world has been even bigger. He paved the way for a new kind of intelligent, realist thriller — what some critics call the "techno-thriller" or "reportage thriller" — inspiring authors like Tom Clancy, John le Carré, and later, Robert Harris and Daniel Silva.
Meanwhile, Sei U Sen, adapted from The Day of the Jackal, was not the only time Forsyth's work found its way into the Masud Rana series. Just as Forsyth continued to deliver one gripping thriller after another, Masud Rana's ghostwriters frequently turned to his novels for inspiration.
Other notable Masud Rana titles based on his works include Shatru Bibhishon 1, 2 (1994, based on The Negotiator), Andho Shikari 1, 2 (1994, based on The Fourth Protocol), Kalo File 1, 2 (1997, based on Icon), and Achena Bondor (2009, based on The Dogs of War).
By the time Frederick Forsyth took his last breath in 2025, he was no longer an unfamiliar name in Bangladesh — thanks in part to the far-reaching influence of the country's thriving thriller scene. Today, most of his major works are available in Bangla translation, and original English editions are widely stocked in local bookstores.
And yet, one question stings: have we, despite our deep admiration and adaptation of his works, managed to produce a writer like Forsyth — someone with equally original ideas, if not a similar global reach? Perhaps not.