Over the last 15 years, Bangladesh lived under a political order that, to many critics, resembled not governance but a suffocating grip of authoritarianism. The Awami League, once celebrated for its historic role in the country’s birth, evolved over sixteen years into what opponents describe as a ferocious machine of corruption, repression, and ruthless partisanship. Its downfall in the July 2024 uprising was not a random political event but the culmination of years of accumulated anger against a party that had lost touch with its people, ruling instead through coercion and fear. The collapse of this regime left behind not only institutional wreckage but also a burning question of sovereignty: how does a nation defend itself when a toppled ruling party, sheltered by a powerful neighbour, attempts to orchestrate its return?
The Awami League today operates less like an exiled party seeking survival and more like a wounded beast regrouping in hostile defiance. Reports of its Kolkata office — discreet, stripped of identifiers, hidden in the shadows of a commercial complex suggest not weakness but a calculated strategy. With its leadership dispersed across Indian soil, communicating through encrypted channels, and maintaining a secretive chain of command, the party has begun to resemble an underground movement preparing for an eventual comeback. Yet unlike resistance groups that emerge organically from domestic soil, this operation unfolds under the protective canopy of India, transforming what might have been exile politics into something far more sinister: an extension of India’s hegemonic project in South Asia.
The ferocity with which the Awami League clings to political relevance is matched by the audacity of India’s patronage. India has not merely provided shelter to Sheikh Hasina and her top confidants; it has permitted, even facilitated, the creation of an operational base within its borders. Such actions cannot be dismissed as humanitarian asylum. They represent a breach of diplomatic norms and a direct affront to Bangladesh’s sovereignty. No independent nation should tolerate the organized activities of its political parties being run from foreign soil. Yet here, under the Narendra Modi government’s watch, the Awami League is given latitude to regroup, to conspire, and to plot its re-entry into Bangladesh’s politics — not as an organic force of the people, but as a proxy of India’s geopolitical ambition.
For India, the calculation is brutally clear. The Awami League has long been its most dependable ally in Dhaka, consistently aligning Bangladesh’s foreign policy with New Delhi’s strategic priorities. Water-sharing disputes, transit facilities, market access, and security cooperation all tilted in India’s favour during Hasina’s tenure. The sudden collapse of that arrangement in 2024 jolted Indian policymakers. The Kolkata office, therefore, is less about humanitarian refuge and more about creating a “political insurance policy” — a means to reinstall a loyal regime that guarantees India’s dominance over Bangladesh’s decision-making. In this sense, the office is not a symbol of survival but of subordination: a soft invasion of Bangladesh’s sovereignty through the politics of exile.
The Awami League’s conduct in exile has also exposed its ferocious instinct for power at any cost. While ordinary activists and supporters inside Bangladesh faced arrests, persecution, and in many cases death during and after the uprising, the senior leadership sought safety across the border. From Kolkata and Delhi’s suburbs, they hold virtual meetings, direct party activities, and maintain control through WhatsApp and Telegram. Such behaviour not only fractures the bond of trust between leaders and grassroots workers but also betrays a deeper cynicism: the willingness to sacrifice followers while protecting the elite. The rhetoric of patriotism collapses when juxtaposed against the reality of leaders sipping tea in safe houses abroad while the blood of students stains Dhaka’s streets.
The financial underpinnings of this operation are equally troubling. Accounts of “well-wishers” funding party operations raise more questions than they answer. Who are these benefactors? What are their interests? In a political landscape already scarred by corruption, the opacity of such financing fuels suspicions of illicit networks and foreign dependency. If the Awami League truly intended to return as a people’s party, transparency and accountability would be its first tools of redemption. Instead, its survival strategy mirrors its years in power: secrecy, opportunism, and ruthless pursuit of control.
The broader implication of this situation lies in India’s role as an active accomplice. By allowing such political maneuvering from its territory, India has inserted itself directly into the internal politics of Bangladesh. This is not the behaviour of a benign neighbour or a democratic partner; it is the behaviour of a hegemon determined to keep its smaller neighbour within its sphere of control. India’s record already includes a litany of grievances: disproportionate use of border force resulting in killings, unfair water-sharing practices, the capture of Bangladeshi markets, and repeated interventions in Dhaka’s policymaking. The Kolkata office adds another chapter to this history of encroachment, marking India not as a friendly ally but as a persistent threat to Bangladesh’s sovereignty.
What makes this moment particularly dangerous is the symbolic weight of these developments. For Bangladeshis who remember 1971 with gratitude, the contradiction is stark. The country that once stood as liberator is now seen by many as a manipulator, prioritizing its strategic dominance over the democratic aspirations of its neighbour. A people who have suffered under decades of authoritarianism and corruption now face the possibility that their hard-won uprising could be undermined by cross-border machinations. The message is clear: the Awami League’s Kolkata presence is not about survival — it is about restoration, and India is the power underwriting that project.
Logic demands that Bangladesh treat this not merely as an anomaly but as a national security challenge. No state can afford to allow its political destiny to be scripted from beyond its borders. The existence of a foreign-protected party apparatus undermines both the legitimacy of domestic politics and the principle of self-determination. The remedy must therefore be twofold: externally, Dhaka should demand clear commitments from India to prevent the operation of political activities on its soil; internally, Bangladesh must fortify its institutions to ensure that no future regime can barter sovereignty for survival.
Sovereignty is not just a legal status written into constitutions; it is lived daily in the choices of governance, in the confidence of citizens, and in the independence of political institutions. When a ferocious political party that once bled the nation dry seeks resurrection under the protection of a hegemonic neighbour, sovereignty itself is placed on trial. The July 2024 uprising demonstrated that the Bangladeshi people are capable of rising against authoritarian misrule. The greater test now is whether they can guard their independence against foreign manipulation and the return of a discredited party determined to regain power at any cost.
If Bangladesh is to secure its future, it must recognize the true nature of the challenge. The Awami League’s Kolkata office is not a harmless refuge; it is a frontline of ferocious politics waged under foreign patronage. And India, by nurturing this operation, has revealed not the face of friendship but the teeth of hegemony. The task ahead is clear: Bangladesh must reassert its sovereignty uncompromisingly, ensuring that its politics remains the property of its people — not the plaything of a defeated party or the project of a regional power.
Md Shahin Ahme... |
