When Khaleda Zia, the chief of the BNP, was laid to rest on December 31 last year, the mood in Dhaka was thick with more than just grief. The throngs that brought the capital to a standstill were witnessing a curious diplomatic step. Among the mourners sat the speaker of Pakistan’s National Assembly and ministers from Bhutan and the Maldives. But the eyes of many diplomatic observers were fixed on India’s foreign minister.
For 15 years, New Delhi had backed Khaleda’s arch-rival, Sheikh Hasina, with a sort of unwavering enthusiasm. Yet there was S Jaishankar, a condolence letter from Narendra Modi in hand, paying attention to the very party India had previously shunned. It was a tacit admission that the 2024 uprising, which toppled Hasina created a new reality in Bangladesh. Modi’s letter, praising Khaleda’s "contributions" to bilateral ties, suggests that India is seeking a reset, preparing for a future where the BNP is expected to return to power.
The rupture with India is the most visceral shift in Bangladesh’s foreign policy. Since August 2024, when Hasina fled the country and took sanctuary in Delhi, the relationship has frozen over. The border is now a site of suspicion. Citing security concerns, India has drastically restricted visa issuance, a move that has hit the Bangladeshi middle class -- medical tourism and shopping trips to Kolkata -- as well as Indian businesses.
Trade has turned petty. India blocked Bangladeshi goods, halting transhipment facilities that allowed Dhaka to send goods to third countries via land ports. For its part, Dhaka restricted the import of Indian yarn through land ports -- ostensibly to protect the domestic industry.
The standoff with India has political roots. Bangladesh has twice written to Delhi requesting the extradition of Hasina, who faces a death sentence from the country's International Crimes Tribunal for “crimes against humanity”. India has demurred, offering no clear answer.
Meanwhile, the killing of Sharif Osman Hadi, a leader of Inqilab Moncho, and the alleged flight of his killer to India, inflamed anti-Indian sentiment. In a tit-for-tat ritual, envoys in both Dhaka and Delhi were summoned for formal complaints.
Even if Bangladesh seeks to improve relations, the ball is now in India’s court, according to Obaidul Haque, an associate professor of international relations at Dhaka University.
“We understand that India will normalise relations after a political government assumes power. However, Hasina's extradition will remain a challenge. The victims of the Hasina regime will continue to create pressure,” he said.
Diplomatic rifts have claimed an unlikely victim: cricket -- the one arena where South Asians usually agree to disagree. A few days ago, the Board of Control for Cricket in India (BCCI) forced the Kolkata Knight Riders to release Mustafizur Rahman, Bangladesh’s star pacer, from the Indian Premier League (IPL). It was the first time a player had been purged for political reasons. The decision sparked fury in Dhaka. Shashi Tharoor, an Indian opposition MP, rightly asked: "Who are we punishing here? A nation, an individual, or the sport?" But in the current climate, such logic is in short supply.
REALIGNMENT
While shifting away from India, the interim government, led by Nobel laureate Muhammad Yunus, sought closer ties with China and Pakistan. Strategic realignment is the new buzzword in diplomatic corridors. As India recedes, Beijing is stepping in with open arms.
Bangladesh’s plan to purchase 20 Chinese-made fighter jets by 2027, as reported by the media, is a sharp signal to its neighbours. Meanwhile, China has been busy hosting delegations from across Bangladesh’s political spectrum -- including leaders of Jamaat-e-Islami and leftist factions -- advocating "non-interference" and "win-win cooperation."
More surprising is the thaw with Pakistan. For decades, the spectre of 1971 -- the Liberation War in which the Pakistan army committed genocide -- haunted relations. That feels like distant history now.
Since August 2024, the two capitals have rediscovered their long-lost ties. Direct shipping links have been relaunched; visa rules have been eased; and rigorous physical inspections of Pakistani goods -- once mandatory -- have been scrapped. The result is a 20 percent surge in bilateral trade to $865 million.
Recently, Dhaka held talks with Islamabad on the procurement of JF-17 Thunder, a multi-role combat aircraft jointly developed with China. Pakistan has also assured Bangladesh of "fast-tracked delivery of Super Mushshak trainer aircraft, along with a complete training and long-term support ecosystem", according to a Reuters report published on January 7 this year. Moreover, Biman Bangladesh Airlines is set to launch direct flights to Karachi on January 29.
The rapprochement culminated in June in Kunming, where officials from China, Pakistan, and Bangladesh launched a trilateral cooperation mechanism. For Indian strategists, who view South Asia as their backyard, this axis is extremely troubling. Analysts in Dhaka call it "selective hedging" -- using China and Pakistan to counterbalance Indian pressure.
Bian Sai, academic visitor at the Institute of South Asian Studies (ISAS) at the National University of Singapore, said Bangladesh’s ties with Pakistan and China witnessed significant improvement.
“This adjustment in foreign policy not only signifies a marked strategic shift for Bangladesh but also introduces greater complexity and uncertainty to South Asia’s regional order and geopolitical dynamics,” she wrote in an analysis published by ISAS last year.
TRUMP TAX
If regional geopolitics are tricky, the view from the West is unsettling. The Biden administration had been a vocal cheerleader for Bangladesh’s democratic reforms, offering moral support and development aid. The return of Donald Trump as the American president has brought a colder, harder reality.
Trump’s policy is predictably transactional. Development funding, particularly for projects linked to the Rohingya refugees, has been slashed. Worse still, the new administration slapped a punitive 37 percent tariff on Bangladeshi exports. It took frantic negotiations to bring this down to a reciprocal 20 percent. When combined with existing duties, Bangladeshi garments -- the lifeblood of the economy -- now face a tariff wall of 36.5 percent while entering the US. For its part, Dhaka has hurriedly placed orders for Boeing aircraft and committed to increasing imports of American cotton, wheat, and soybeans.
The European Union, observing this trans-Atlantic shakedown, has decided to join the queue. As the largest buyer of Bangladeshi goods, with a trade deficit of €17.5 billion (around $20 billion) in Dhaka's favour, Brussels is losing patience. The EU ambassador, Michael Miller, has made it clear: if you want access to the single market, buy European goods and services. Specifically, he has urged Biman to look at Airbus, not just Boeing. Bangladesh seems to be caught between an American rock and a European hard place.
THE FORGOTTEN CRISIS
Amidst the high-stakes diplomacy with Washington and Delhi, the human tragedy on the south-eastern border festers. The Rohingya crisis appears to be caught in a glacial freeze. The interim government’s attempt to internationalise the issue -- hosting events in New York and Cox’s Bazar -- has yielded little but rhetoric.
A proposal to provide a "humanitarian passage" to Rakhine State in Myanmar backfired. It drew sharp criticism from politicians at home and was swiftly denied by the very officials who floated it. Meanwhile, the refugees keep coming. Another 200,000 fled to Bangladesh in 2025, joining the 1.2 million already stuck in squalid camps. With the US cutting funding, only half of the required $934 million for humanitarian aid was raised last year.
INSTITUTIONAL DECAY
Navigating these treacherous waters requires deft diplomacy. Unfortunately, the foreign affairs ministry has weakened itself. The 2024 uprising unleashed a wave of purges within the bureaucracy, driven as much by social media witch-hunts as by genuine accountability.
In May last year, Jashim Uddin, the then foreign secretary, resigned following an unprecedented pressure campaign. Inside the ministry, trust has eroded. Leaks of private emails and conversations have hindered decision-making.
With professional diplomats cowed, foreign policy is increasingly being run by ad-hoc appointees like Khalilur Rahman, the national security adviser, and Lutfey Siddiqi, the chief adviser’s envoy. While capable, they lack the institutional machinery to manage a diplomatic crisis. The foreign ministry appears to be taking a back seat.
Such diplomatic disarray is perhaps inevitable after a mass uprising, analysts argue. “Now that the election schedule has been declared and all are preparing for this, I hope the confusion and suspicion that all had will be overcome,” said Shahab Enam Khan, a professor of international relations at Jahangirnagar University.
The geopolitical waters are too choppy for amateurism; navigating them requires a professional diplomatic corps and a national consensus on foreign policy that transcends party lines.
“The only objective is protecting national interest, no private or partisan benefit,” he said.
Bangladesh wants to be a player, not a pawn in diplomacy. But as it shuffles between the great powers, how the next government will navigate geopolitics remains to be seen.
