The world today is discovering—rather late in the day—that Islamic fundamentalism does not believe in borders, constitutions, or the comforting fiction of “pluralism.” From Nigeria to Bangladesh, from Gaza to Western capitals that still believe hashtags defeat ideology, the objective is neither coexistence nor reform. It is a conversion of land, law, and loyalty.
Ask Nigeria. Or rather, ask the families of Christians slaughtered by Boko Haram, an ISIS cousin that Washington pretends is a “local insurgency.” Even Donald Trump, a man who rarely resists the temptation to threaten anyone within microphone range, recently warned Nigeria of its implosion under jihadist violence. When even Trump notices, you know the bloodshed has crossed acceptable diplomatic indifference.
And yet, when Hindus are persecuted in India’s own neighborhood—Bangladesh—the global conscience suddenly develops laryngitis.
Modi’s Dilemma: Power Has Borders
Back home, many Hindus are restless. Their impatience is understandable. Prime Minister Narendra Modi has never been accused of ambiguity when Indians were killed on Indian soil. After Pulwama, after Pahalgam, his message was blunt: India will not absorb terror quietly. And it didn’t. Surgical strikes, air raids, diplomatic isolation—India acted, and the world, barring the permanently aggrieved Congress ecosystem, applauded.
Israel, in particular, nodded knowingly. It understands what it means to live next to neighbors who believe your existence itself is negotiable.
But Bangladesh is not Pulwama. That is Modi’s constraint—and his critics’ convenient amnesia. This persecution is happening next door, inside another sovereign nation. India can warn, protest, and apply diplomatic pressure. And it has—through the External Affairs Ministry, repeatedly. But short of crossing borders, options are limited.
Meanwhile, the violence continues.
Officially, only a handful of Hindu lynchings make headlines. Unofficially, intelligence inputs and ground reports suggest a far grimmer picture since so-called “student movements”—a familiar euphemism—were weaponized to destabilize Sheikh Hasina’s democratically elected Awami League government. The script is old: protests morph into riots, riots into regime change, and minorities into collateral damage.
The Deep State That Never Retires
Who benefits? Certainly not Bangladesh’s Hindus. And not India.
The fingerprints are familiar—deep-state actors operating from comfortable Western addresses, exporting “democratic uprisings” with remarkable consistency. Ironically, Donald Trump once promised to dismantle this ecosystem. Instead, he now appears to be borrowing from its playbook, straining relations with India that took years of mutual trust to build.
This is the same Trump who claims—without blushing—to have stopped eight wars. Russia-Ukraine? Still raging. Israel-Hamas? Hardly pacified. India-Pakistan after Pahalgam? Please. That ceasefire came after India’s armed forces reduced 11 Pakistani airbases and dismantled nine terror facilities, including the headquarters of internationally designated terror groups. Pakistan begged. India obliged—on its terms.
Yet the mythology persists. Trump now sulks about not receiving a Nobel Peace Prize, even as he props up Pakistan’s latest strongman arrangement. Pakistan’s Army Chief, General Asif Munir—self-anointed Field Marshal after being militarily humbled—has been effectively handed the keys to a bankrupt nation. Democracy, once again, is optional when strategic hypocrisy demands it.
Bangladesh, Yunus, and the UN’s Shrug
Back in Dhaka, the United Nations watches with practiced helplessness as the caretaker government under Muhammad Yunus fails—or refuses—to rein in targeted attacks on Hindus. Washington and European capitals look away. After all, persecuted Hindus do not trend well.
It is in this vacuum that RSS chief Mohan Bhagwat’s remarks urging Bangladeshi Hindus to unite and defend themselves must be understood. It was not a call to arms; it was a cry born of abandonment. When the state fails, survival becomes a personal responsibility.
Predictably, instead of condemning Hindu persecution, India’s Opposition and several Muslim leaders rushed to highlight “isolated incidents” of retaliation by misled Hindus—as if moral equivalence could be manufactured by selective outrage. This reflexive defensiveness has become so automatic that it no longer even pretends to care about facts.
The Uncomfortable Question India Must Ask
Which brings us to the uncomfortable, politically incorrect, but unavoidable question: What are India’s real options?
One option—provocative but logical—is to operationalize the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA) in its full spirit and signal to Bangladesh that India is willing to peacefully repatriate persecuted Hindus. No drama. No chaos. Just dignity and safety. In parallel, India could insist on reciprocal deportation of illegal Bangladeshi infiltrators residing unlawfully in India.
Such an arrangement would force clarity. Bangladesh would complete its transformation into an Islamic republic in practice, not just demography. India, by sheltering its civilizational kin, would finally stop pretending it is merely a geographical entity rather than a cultural one.
Extend the thought further—rhetorically, if not immediately: similar humanitarian frameworks could apply to Hindus in Pakistan, Afghanistan, and Pakistan-occupied Kashmir. If the international community truly believes in “orderly migration” and “coexistence,” it should have no objection to transparent, consensual population realignments that reduce friction rather than inflame it.
The same logic could even be applied globally. If Europe and the United States—historically Christian-majority civilizations—are serious about social cohesion, they too must confront the consequences of unchecked ideological migration. Pretending that radical Islam will dissolve into liberal democracy through welfare programs is not compassion; it is self-deception.
The World Can’t Have It Both Ways
For decades, the world lectured India on tolerance while indulging forces that see tolerance as weakness. Today, the mask is slipping. From Nigeria to Bangladesh, from Paris to California, the pattern is visible to anyone willing to look.
India’s challenge is not just diplomatic—it is civilizational. Silence may be strategic. But silence, prolonged, also sends signals. And signals, in this region of the world, are never misunderstood.
The question is no longer whether persecution exists. It is whether India—and the world—dares to stop moral posturing and start choosing clarity over comfort.
History, as always, will not wait.
