Bangladesh today stands at a dangerous crossroads—where political vacuum, ideological radicalism, and external manipulation converge to threaten not just its internal cohesion but regional stability itself. The brutal lynching and burning alive of 30-year-old Hindu man Dipu Chandra Das in Mymensingh amid anti-India protests is not merely a law-and-order failure; it is a grim marker of how rapidly the country is sliding into mob rule under the watch of an unelected interim dispensation. Interim government head Muhammad Yunus has issued strong statements condemning the violence. Diplomatically phrased assurances, however, ring hollow when measured against ground reality. Violence against minorities, especially Hindus, has grown both bolder and more frequent. The question India—and indeed Bangladesh’s own citizens—must ask is whether this violence is an aberration, or the inevitable outcome of political engineering that has legitimised radical elements. Yunus’s rise to the helm itself remains deeply controversial. Critics argue that the interim arrangement did not emerge organically from domestic consensus but was instead nudged into existence through sustained Western pressure following the ouster of Sheikh Hasina. Hasina’s Awami League, for all its flaws, was a mass-based, secular political force that enjoyed deep grassroots support and presided over Bangladesh’s most stable economic phase—marked by infrastructure expansion, poverty reduction, and strategic autonomy. That legacy has now been dented. The systematic sidelining of the Awami League from the political process under the guise of “reform” raises uncomfortable questions about democratic sincerity. Democracy cannot mean the selective exclusion of the most popular party simply because it does not align with external ideological preferences. Equally baffling is the silence of the so-called champions of democracy. Why are global democracies not condemning these developments? The United Nations, barring occasional expressions of concern, has maintained a stoic silence ever since a democratically elected government was dethroned in Dhaka. This is not without precedent. Similar externally encouraged public upheavals were witnessed in Sri Lanka and Nepal—where political instability was celebrated as “people’s movements” until the long-term consequences became unavoidable. Bangladesh now appears to be the latest laboratory for such geopolitical experiments.
More troubling is Yunus’s political alignment. His interim coalition is widely perceived to include Islamist hardliners and groups with a documented history of hostility towards India and religious minorities. His perceived proximity to Pakistan—a country whose 1971 genocide, mass rapes, and mass killings of Bengali Muslims necessitated India’s military intervention for Bangladesh’s liberation—adds a bitter historical irony. The normalisation of anti-India rhetoric in Dhaka is not accidental; it is politically cultivated. The Bangladesh Army’s silence is equally alarming. Traditionally seen as the ultimate stabilising institution, its reluctance to step in and contain widespread violence suggests either internal division or political restraint imposed from above. Neither explanation inspires confidence. When mobs roam freely, minorities are hunted, and the state abdicates its monopoly over violence, institutional neutrality begins to resemble complicity. This leaves India facing a delicate but unavoidable set of choices. India has neither the temperament nor the intent to behave as an aggressor state. Unlike China, Pakistan, or even the United States, New Delhi does not export regime change or chaos as a policy tool. Yet strategic restraint cannot become strategic paralysis. India must recalibrate. Diplomatic pressure must be applied—firmly and multilaterally—insisting on genuinely free and fair elections with the participation of all democratic forces, including the Awami League. Economic engagement, preferential trade access, and development cooperation should be clearly linked to minority protection and political inclusivity. Intelligence coordination and border security must be strengthened to prevent extremist spillover. Prime Minister Narendra Modi is internationally known for firmness without adventurism. His response will likely reflect that doctrine: no megaphone diplomacy, no knee-jerk escalation—but also no indulgence of sustained provocation. India’s rise—economic, military, and civilisational—has unsettled many global players. Bangladesh must now decide whether it wishes to be a partner in stability or a playground for ideological experiments sponsored from afar. The lynching of Dipu Chandra Das is not just Bangladesh’s tragedy. It is a warning—to India, to the region, and to all who still believe democracy can be engineered without consequences.
