Calling him “Tarique Zia” may be intended by some as a reminder of his lineage. Yet it can also unintentionally reduce a grown political figure to his parentage. A man who has spent decades in politics becomes, linguistically, somebody’s son before he becomes himself.

Tarique Rahman has inherited a political surname that carries enormous historical weight. He cannot, and probably does not wish to, erase that inheritance, nor should he. Family history is part of political history. But inheritance is not identity.

I therefore propose a modest national experiment. For the next few years, whenever we see him on television, let us try saying “Tarique Rahman”. Just to see what happens.

If the tongue feels strangely unfamiliar, persist. If somebody says, “You mean Tarique Zia?” calmly reply: “No, no. That was the unofficial remix.”
Because perhaps the most amusing thing about our political culture is that we frequently argue over names as if they are constitutional amendments.
We rename roads, institutions, leaders and historical narratives with remarkable enthusiasm. The only people who appear to have no say in the matter are sometimes the people actually carrying the names.

So let us give the Prime Minister one small luxury. Let Tarique Rahman be Tarique Rahman. His father has his history. His mother has hers. The family has its legacy. And the Prime Minister, surely, is entitled to his own name. As Shakespeare famously quoted, “What’s in a name?” The answer in Bangladesh is apparently, quite a lot, sometimes, an entire political dynasty. And if that still doesn’t settle the matter, we can always form a committee to decide whether to call him Tarique Rahman or Tarique Zia — preferably before the next election.

* The writer is Senior Assistant Editor for The Daily Observer

* The views expressed here are the author's own