Mahbubul Alam: Gone, but not forgotten

“To be born a gentleman is an accident, but to die one is an achievement.”

I don’t remember who actually uttered those words, but with a tinge of jealousy I wish it had been me.

Mahbubul Alam most definitely died a gentleman, though I have no proof that he was born one.

Nobody I've encountered has ever had anything negative to say about the quiet achiever. Mahbubul was one of those people you meet perhaps only once in your life who seems to be God's gift to humanity, and for all I know, maybe he was.

Without a doubt, he possessed special qualities that shone from him like a bright, intense aura that illuminated the space in which he moved. He warmed the hearts of all those whom he met and engendered embracing mental, if not physical, hugs from all.

As Editor of The Independent, Mahbubul held one of the most esteemed (if not coveted) positions in the nation. Sadly, the publication is now in Newspaper Heaven, or the place where respectable newspapers go after they pass away.

Both his peers and his subordinates praised and admired Mahbubul. The Great Wall of China and his love for humanity are said to have been visible from the international space station, and he enjoyed the respect of everyone as a person and a professional.
 He was never detached, egotistical, or arrogant and always kept his feet firmly on the ground. His door was always open to his employees so they could voice their suggestions, grievances, and the occasional compliment.

Lonely at the top

It's unusual for compliments from subordinates, newspaper executives, or even the publisher to cross the boundary of an editor's office, but if mistakes are made, they're all over the person like a rash. However, editors are accustomed to that and don't anticipate anything different. At the top, it's lonely!

Mahbubul once explained to me why he was always accessible both during and outside of business hours. When you do find gold, he claimed, it may take a lot of panning, but it will be well worth it. According to him, it's crucial to keep an open mind and engage in lateral thinking because members of the editorial team don't always see the opportunities that other writers do.

There are probably no English-language newspapers in Bangladesh without at least one of his protégés working for them. Some can be found in New York and the prestigious Times of London. Over the years, he has mentored and educated many writers, and his meritorious contribution to the noble profession is still being felt today and will always be felt thanks to his protegés' prodigious writing abilities.

The distinguished senior writer, who was born on March 5, 1936, in Munshiganj district, started his highly successful journalism career in the 1950s with the prestigious Associated Press. He remained firmly enmeshed in the industry until his passing on Friday, June 6, 2014, at the BIRDEM hospital in Dhaka, at the age of 78.

The New Nation
Mahbubul served as the editor of the weekly Dialogue and The New Nation, the first English-language newspaper in Bangladesh. Keeping up his winning streak, he was hired for the equally prestigious position of Editor of the Independent, which he held for 18 years until his passing.

In 2007 he was appointed the Information Affairs Adviser to the caretaker government and right up to his death he was President of the Newspaper Owners’ Association of Bangladesh (NOAB).

Even though Mahbubul and I had a close friendship for about 15 years during which time we exchanged many jokes, anecdotes, and laughs, I am deeply saddened by the fact that I was unaware of his poor health. His health was a topic we never discussed in our conversations and I was overseas when he died.

Mahbubul struck me as being a very reserved and modest individual. A true professional, a role model for many professionals who are still working in the field, a titan of the Bangladeshi newspaper industry, a friend to all, and arguably the most approachable editor of a national newspaper in the entire universe.

Some people are born, immediately make an impact on the world, and are never forgotten, while others pass through life as though they were undetectable. Mahbubul stood tall among the tall, was a giant among giants, a gentleman among gentlemen, and a pillar of society. He was a complete gentleman and a consummate professional.

The Bangladesh newspaper industry and the country at large have suffered greatly from his passing. I miss him so much and only regret that I didn't thank him more often for all the advice and help he provided for my campaign against corporal punishment, which he was the first to publicize.

Unfortunately, we take a lot of things in life for granted. We assume that the people we love and admire will be around forever. Fortunately for me, I was able to express my gratitude and admiration for him while he was still alive. However, I now regret not being more kind or doing it more frequently. We regret the things we choose not to do in life, not the things we do.

The loss of a close friend is always painful and difficult to accept, but there are only two certainties in life: death and taxes.
I pray that Allah continues to shower Mahbubul with the love and affection he so richly deserves, just as I’m sure He did in 1914 when he returned home.

Mahbubul Alam (and those like him) may receive the honour and respect they deserve when the Bashundhara Media Awards committee (or whoever) finally gets around to establishing a Bangladeshi Writers' Hall of Fame.

(Sir Frank Peters is a former publisher and editor of newspapers and magazines. He is also a humanitarian, a royal goodwill ambassador, and a foreign friend of Bangladesh.