[🇧🇩] National Security of Bangladesh

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Source : https://www.PKDefense.com

Challenges and Options for national security of Bangladesh.

 

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THE MISSING COMMISSION: Why avoid national security reform?

BANGLADESH, a country born out of war and bloodshed, now finds itself at another critical juncture. Once, in the 1980s and 1990s, the military and foreign service attracted the sharpest minds — men and women who saw these institutions not merely as jobs, but as the last line of defence for a...

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THE MISSING COMMISSION: Why avoid national security reform?
Abdul Monaiem Kudrot Ullah 14 March, 2025, 00:00

BANGLADESH, a country born out of war and bloodshed, now finds itself at another critical juncture. Once, in the 1980s and 1990s, the military and foreign service attracted the sharpest minds — men and women who saw these institutions not merely as jobs, but as the last line of defence for a fragile state. But time has not been kind to these pillars of national security. The military, once an institution of prestige, is now entangled in a web of political machinations, its independence steadily eroded.

The whispers have grown louder. Figures like General Iqbal Karim Bhuiyan have spoken of how the military’s professional ethos has been suffocated under the weight of political interference — an interference spearheaded by Sheikh Hasina and the Awami League. The allegations go further: that India’s intelligence agency, RAW, has played an invisible yet decisive role in military leadership appointments. If true, this is not just meddling — it is a profound compromise of Bangladesh’s sovereignty.

Yet, beneath these claims lies a deeper question: Was the military truly a helpless victim, an institution shaped by external forces? Or did it, in some way, acquiesce to its fate? There is scant evidence of organised resistance within its ranks to fend off these encroachments. Instead, the military seems to have chosen silence, retreating into a posture of passive compliance, settling for accommodation rather than defiance.

This internal decay, however, mirrors the worsening external environment surrounding Bangladesh. The nation sits at the heart of a volatile neighbourhood. To the west, India’s strategic designs view Dhaka more as a pliant partner than a sovereign equal. To the east, Myanmar’s instability casts a long shadow, presenting a steady, though low-grade, security threat. Further north, the geopolitical rivalry between China and the United States looms, threatening to spill into South Asia at any moment. In such a climate, Bangladesh can ill afford a weakened security apparatus, politically compromised and fractured. Yet, inexplicably, no national security reform commission exists — no serious initiative to assess the vulnerabilities that have plagued the country for decades.

Anu Anwar, in the Diplomat, reminds us that these issues are not new. They have been swept aside or buried under layers of political expediency, left to fester and corrode. Thus, the cycle persists — political interference, military acquiescence, and a security framework that is woefully inadequate for the demands of the modern world.

The sting of salt cuts deep and the ghost of the sea haunts me. As a former naval officer, I carry the weight of complicity, the heavy burden of watching as my own institution withered. Did we — the so-called guardians of the nation — stand by as the pillars of our defence were dismantled? Did we, in our polished boots and crisp uniforms, become silent spectators in the destruction of our own house?

They speak of political interference now, using it as a convenient excuse to mask their own cowardice. Yes, from Ershad’s time, the rot began to take hold, creeping like mould. But it was never so all-encompassing, so insidious, and so soul-crushing. Then, there were still whispers of resistance, faint glimmers of resolve. Now, we have been reduced to puppets — tin soldiers, dancing to the whims of political masters.

We have been declawed, reduced to nothing more than a spectacle, a fleeting show in a grand political theatre. The roar of engines, the gleam of steel — once symbols of national strength — now ring hollow, empty echoes of promises never fulfilled. We are no longer defenders of the nation; we have become tools, pawns in a political game.

And what of the sea, that vast, indifferent witness? Does it remember when we sailed with purpose, when duty called us beyond the petty confines of politics? Or does it mock our impotence now, our silent submission? The sea, like the nation, carries the scars of our betrayal.

They have stolen our dignity, our sense of purpose, leaving us with nothing but the bitter taste of regret. As the storms gather on the horizon, as geopolitical forces shift, we are left to ask: what have we become? A nation where the guardians have become the guarded, where the protectors have become the protected, where the military is reduced to a mere political prop. A nation where the very sea we once sailed on now threatens to swallow us whole in our shame.

And what of the Awami League? For decades, it had styled itself as the guardian of secularism and democracy, drawing comparisons to India’s Congress Party. But their political survival was a brutal game, one that often demands subjugation rather than sovereignty. The price of longevity, in this case, had been submission — to regional hegemony, to patronage networks that demand loyalty over competence, and to a political structure that thrives on obedience rather than strategic foresight.

History is riddled with evidence of these concessions: the Farakka Barrage agreement, the 25-year bilateral treaty, the more recent transit and transshipment deals — all inked under the shadow of Delhi’s influence. Each agreement has further eroded Bangladesh’s autonomy, driving a wedge between the Awami League and the military. This distrust is no recent phenomenon; it dates back to 1971, when India’s indispensable role in Bangladesh’s liberation gave way to a post-war reality where the military increasingly viewed the ruling party as an extension of Indian strategic interests. The formation of the paramilitary Rakkhi Bahini, allegedly at India’s behest, was perceived as a deliberate effort to sideline the military’s authority. Suspicion festered, and it has never truly healed.

The Awami League’s unwavering tilt towards India had, for years, placed the military in an agonizing vice of contradiction. It stood, as it always had, as the supposed guardian of national security, yet found itself overshadowed by a civilian government that critics argued was all too eager to align itself with India’s strategic designs. The rift was palpable — an open wound between the forces of governance and the armed might, leaving the country’s security apparatus in a state of fractured uncertainty. As Bangladesh neared another political crossroads, the question remained suspended in the air: Would the military assert its traditional power, reclaiming its role as the defender of national sovereignty? Or would it continue to play second fiddle to political patronage, a pliant and submissive force in a game that no longer belonged to it?

The political parties, those chattering monkeys in their gilded cages — BNP, Jamaat, the newly minted NCP, a chorus of hollow echoes — they have abandoned the very notion of national security, tossed it aside like a soiled rag. Instead, they offer us a cacophony of anti-India screeches, a thin, brittle noise, devoid of substance, a mere pantomime of patriotism.

And so, the interim government, left to its own devices, drifts in this vacuum of silence, unchallenged, unquestioned, as it refuses to birth a national security reform commission. What else could they offer, these political entities, but their tired, divisive narratives? The silence, you see, is not just deafening; it is a weapon.

The world is shifting, a tectonic dance of power, and Bangladesh, a pawn on this grand chessboard, stands precariously, its fate hanging in the balance. ‘Friendship to all, malice towards none,’ they chant, a mantra as hollow as their promises. Diplomacy today is a viper pit, a game of calculated moves, but Dhaka’s leadership, it seems, prefers to drift, rudderless, without a compass, without a spine.

The military, once a symbol of national strength, now finds itself adrift, no longer tethered to the authority it once respected. The relationship, once strained under Sheikh Hasina’s rule, has fractured entirely, a rupture made undeniable on August 5. They may have tolerated her, but trust was never there — her closeness to India always an unsettling undercurrent. And now, with her no longer in power, that schism remains, a festering wound, bleeding into a region where tensions still simmer and the air remains thick with unspoken threats.

The ghosts of past regimes haunt the security apparatus, a spectral army of corruption and servility. Those who dared to speak truth, to push back against the rot, were cast aside, exiled, their careers buried beneath the weight of political patronage. The survivors? They perfected the art of submission, of bending the knee, of becoming nothing more than puppets on a string.

Hasina’s tenure, a masterpiece of manipulation, saw the militarisation of the police, the commercialisation of the military. Commanders turned into corporate executives, police into enforcers of political will. The armed forces, once the guardians of sovereignty, now stand as hollow shells, their capabilities atrophied, their spirit broken.

And the silence on national security reforms, the absence of a National Security Council, an indictment, a damning indictment of those who claim to lead. Countless commissions, yes, on education, on governance, on economics, but none for the very survival of the nation. The closest attempt, a mere whisper in 1996, faded into irrelevance, like a forgotten dream.

Is national security truly a priority? Or is its neglect a deliberate strategy, a way to keep the armed forces neutered, powerless? A strong National Security Council would be a bulwark against external threats, a shield against internal chaos, but they refuse, they refuse, revealing a complacency that may prove fatal.

Bangladesh, moving past the Hasina era, stands at a precipice. The storm is not coming; it is here. A military stripped of its independence, a security apparatus designed for obedience, a nation caught in the crossfire of regional power struggles.

Establishing a national security council, crafting a strategic diplomatic framework, these are not options; they are imperatives. Without them, we are adrift, at the mercy of external forces, doomed to internal instability. Good people follow rules; righteous people transform systems, wise men say. But where are the righteous? Where are the ones who will dismantle the rot, who will reclaim the soul of the nation?

The tragedy is not just the decline, but the deliberate, systematic dismantling, the slow, insidious erosion of integrity, the way those who should have resisted barely noticed until it was too late. ‘Chira unnata mama shir’, their motto, a hollow echo now, a call to arms for a ghost army.

Bangladesh stands at a crucial juncture, its future hanging in the balance. The call for a security sector that serves the people — not the whims of political factions or foreign powers — has never been more urgent. And at the heart of it all lies a stark truth: the very essence of democracy is rooted in institutions that stand on accountability, not blind obedience. But what does democracy mean when the institutions meant to protect it are fractured beyond repair?

Yet, there are those who cling to the old guard, warning that any attempt at change will usher in chaos, preferring stagnation over the uncertainty of progress. But Bangladesh, once again, finds itself at this crossroads, where the demand for a security apparatus rooted in national interests — free from external manipulation or internal partisanship — is deafening.

The real tragedy lies not in the inevitable decline, but in the way it unfolded — so methodically, so quietly — that those who should have resisted were lulled into complacency until it was far too late. As the nation wrestles with its past, one unshakable truth remains: only institutions built on accountability can uphold the fragile promise of democracy.

Abdul Monaiem Kudrot Ullah is a retired captain of the Bangladesh navy.​

 

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Rethinking defence reforms

IN AN era marked by shifting geopolitical fault lines, rising hybrid threats and increasing strategic competition in South Asia, Bangladesh must re-evaluate the structure, role and modernisation of its armed forces. Defence reforms are no longer...

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Rethinking defence reforms
by HRM Rokan Uddin 10 May, 2025, 00:00

Defence reform is not simply about acquiring new weapons or restructuring command. It is about safeguarding sovereignty, enhancing operational efficiency and ensuring that the armed forces remain a pillar of national unity and stability, writes HRM Rokan Uddin

IN AN era marked by shifting geopolitical fault lines, rising hybrid threats and increasing strategic competition in South Asia, Bangladesh must re-evaluate the structure, role and modernisation of its armed forces. Defence reforms are no longer a matter of convenience. They are a strategic necessity. However, reforming the defence establishment of a sovereign nation such as Bangladesh must be approached with foresight, sensitivity and utmost caution, ensuring that national security is preserved, military professionalism is upheld and foreign or political interference is strictly resisted.

Clear strategic vision

AT THE heart of any meaningful defence reform lies a long-term, cohesive and adaptive national defence strategy. For Bangladesh, the need for such a vision is now more urgent than ever as the nation faces a rapidly evolving security environment shaped by internal challenges and external dynamics. The strategic vision must look beyond traditional threats and incorporate non-conventional dangers such as cyber warfare, information operation, asymmetric tactics, border skirmishes and maritime disputes in the Bay of Bengal. The defence strategy should be regionally-aware and globally-conscious, recognising India’s assertive posturing, China’s growing regional influence and the emerging Indo-Pacific strategic architecture.

Reforms under this vision must not be undertaken merely in response to crises or under foreign advice. Instead, they must be anchored in Bangladesh’s sovereign interests, historical context and constitutional values. A sound doctrine, aligned with this vision, should guide the force modernisation, procurement priorities, research and development and human capital investments. This will ensure readiness for joint operations, peacekeeping and national emergencies. Strategic foresight must also anticipate wars of cognition and disruption and, therefore, invest in space, artificial intelligence, cyber-defence, electronic warfare, and robust intelligence networks. A vision 2041 defence road map — similar to the country’s economic ambitions — can be conceived to outline clear stages of doctrinal, structural, and technological transformation of the armed forces.

Civil-military balance

MAINTAINING a healthy civil-military relationship is a pillar of stable democracies. In Bangladesh, this equilibrium is vital for both military effectiveness and democratic continuity. Civilian oversight must be institutional, and not arbitrary. It should operate through competent and impartial bodies such as the parliamentary standing committee on the defence ministry, an empowered ministry of defence and constitutionally defined executive authorities.

This oversight, however, must be exercised with restraint and respect for military autonomy. Civilian leaders should set policy, not micromanage operations or interfere in professional military matters. The politicisation of the military — whether through selective promotions, intelligence manipulation or the use of forces in domestic political matters — poses a grave threat to military unity and morale. Once the officer corps is divided along ideological or political lines, the chain of command collapses and the institution risks long-term dysfunction.

The military must foster internal mechanisms to remain apolitical, including clear codes of conduct, non-engagement in political discourse and career progression based solely on merit and service records. Defence reforms should ensure that the armed forces remain loyal to the state, not to any government, leader or ideology. Preserving this balance will allow the military to perform its constitutional role with honour while reinforcing civilian supremacy and democratic accountability.

Institutional integrity, transparency

FOR any defence system to remain credible and effective, integrity and transparency must be embedded within its structure. Bangladesh must initiate systemic reforms to counter corruption, favouritism and inefficiency in defence administration. Large procurement projects, land allocation and officer appointments must all follow rigorous vetting, open competition and multilayered scrutiny. A centralised defence audit authority, reporting independently to the president or a parliamentary body, could be established to monitor financial and procedural compliance across all branches of the armed forces.

Procurement processes — especially for arms, equipment and infrastructure — should be governed by a defence procurement policy aligned with global standards, ensuring value for money, operational suitability and long-term maintenance. Whistleblower protection and anonymous reporting channels must be institutionalised so that misconduct, the abuse of power or the misuse of resources could be addressed without fear of reprisal. The defence ministry and respective service headquarters should adopt a uniform code of ethics and conduct, updated regularly and enforced strictly.

Reforms must also address the culture of entitlement or impunity that sometimes grows in hierarchical institutions through regular leadership training in accountability, ethics and civilian-military interface. A defence institution that is ethically grounded and transparent commands respect not only within the country but also among regional and global partners. This becomes especially critical as Bangladesh seeks to elevate its role in UN peacekeeping, regional cooperation and defence diplomacy.

Legal, constitutional framework

DEFENCE reforms must be firmly anchored within the constitutional and legal framework of the state, ensuring that all actions taken are both lawful and democratically accountable. The constitution, especially Article 61–63, lays out the foundational role of the armed forces. Any deviation from the mandates — whether in domestic law enforcement, political crises or development roles — must be guided by explicit legal instruments, not verbal instructions or executive discretion. Reforms should aim at clarifying and codifying the division of responsibilities between the military, civil administration and law enforcement agencies. This includes rules for aid to civil power, defining when, how and under what conditions military forces can be deployed domestically.

The role of the armed forces in disaster response, infrastructure development and peacekeeping must be formally integrated into the law, with clear limitations, so that such engagements do not dilute the core war-fighting capabilities of the military. Special care must be taken to ensure that military courts, detention facilities and internal disciplinary measures are compliant with fundamental human rights and due process, especially in cases where civilians are indirectly affected by military operations. Oversight bodies, such as the parliamentary standing committee on the defence ministry, should be strengthened with legal authority to review defence policies, budget use and strategic deployments in coordination with the law ministry and the judiciary, if needed. In the long term, a comprehensive defence reforms act could be considered — similar to those in countries such as India, Indonesia or the United Kingdom — to institutionalise checks and balances and modernisation under a single, structured legal framework.

Capacity building

MODERN defence capability is not solely measured by weaponry or the troop number, but by the institutional depth, adaptability and strategic flexibility of the armed forces. Bangladesh must adopt a multi-dimensional modernisation strategy. This includes upgrading air and naval platforms, securing maritime domain awareness systems and expanding armoured and drone capabilities. Critical investment is required in cyber defence, space surveillance and electronic warfare units, especially as threats move from the physical to the digital and cognitive spheres.

Bangladesh should prioritise the development of a domestic defence industry in partnership with the private sector, universities and international collaborators. A defence industrial policy must encourage innovation, research and development and the indigenous production of logistics support items, ammunition, small arms and tactical communications systems. Equally vital is human capital development. The battlefield will be led by intellectually agile, technologically savvy and ethically grounded leaders. This demands a revamp of military education with enhanced exposure to global doctrines, joint operations planning, and strategic simulation.

Military academies should collaborate with foreign institutions to host exchange programmes, war games and joint training exercises, preparing officers not only for warfare but also for diplomatic missions, peacekeeping and inter-agency coordination. Investment in leadership training, language proficiency, staff college curriculams and professional ethics will ensure a modern officer corps capable of operating in complex, multi-domain environments. This capacity-building vision must be sustainable, not flashy — balancing operational readiness with fiscal responsibility.

Internal, external threat assessment

ANY meaningful reforms of the defence architecture must be threat-informed and scenario-based, rather than assumption-driven or politically motivated. Bangladesh must maintain a robust strategic intelligence framework capable of continuously analysing regional military developments, especially along the Myanmar border, in the Chittagong Hill Tracts and across maritime boundaries.

With growing external interference in domestic affairs — from fake news and funding networks to foreign intelligence operations — counter-intelligence and information warfare capabilities must be elevated to national priority status.

Internally, the rise of radical extremism, organised crimes and ethnic insurgency calls for better civil-military coordination, joint task forces, and intelligence-sharing mechanisms among security forces. Environment-related security threats — such as cyclones, floods and migration linked to climate change — should also be treated as core defence challenges. The armed forces must be equipped to handle large-scale humanitarian operations in increasingly frequent natural disasters. On the maritime front, Bangladesh must bolster its naval surveillance, deep-sea patrolling and base security to safeguard its exclusive economic zone, particularly given the discovery of offshore resources and regional maritime ambitions.

Cyber threats from state and non-state actors, including foreign intelligence services, are likely to increase. Hence, Bangladesh must invest in cyber hygiene, data sovereignty and offensive cyber deterrence. In summary, threat assessments must be living documents, updated regularly through multi-agency collaboration, strategic foresight tools, and scenario-building exercises.

Stakeholder engagement

DEFENCE reforms must be national in scope, inclusive in process and participatory in spirit. A top-down or secretive approach may produce short-term changes but will ultimately lack legitimacy and resilience. The defence ministry must establish a multi-stakeholder consultative mechanism, where regular dialogues occur among serving military officers, veterans, parliamentarians, academics, strategic analysts and civil society organisations. Veterans possess not only battlefield experience but also institutional memory — an invaluable asset in shaping reforms. Their voices can serve as a bridge between traditional practices and emerging needs.

Engaging policymakers ensures reforms are aligned with national interests, budget realities and constitutional mandates. The inclusion of technocrats and professionals from the finance ministry, the Planning Commission and the foreign affairs ministry is equally important. Bangladesh’s emerging defence industry partners and local manufacturing stakeholders should be brought into the reform dialogues to discuss indigenous production, supply chain management and technology transfer potential.

Civil society institutions and the media play a role in building public trust, enhancing transparency and disseminating accurate information. Their constructive involvement helps to counter disinformation and undue politicisation. Partnerships with credible think tanks, universities and defence research institutes can provide evidence-based analysis, scenario simulations, policy white papers and independent evaluations — essential for informed decision-making. An institutional advisory board on defence reforms composed of representatives from the sectors can act as a permanent structure to guide, review, and advise on implementation.

Avoidance of foreign manipulation

IN AN increasingly interconnected world, no country can reform its defence architecture in isolation. However, engagement must not become entanglement. Bangladesh must tread cautiously in its international military cooperation to preserve sovereignty and operational independence. While military diplomacy through training exchanges, joint exercises and technology acquisition is necessary for exposure and capability enhancement, it must be carefully regulated through government-to-government agreements and not left to foreign lobbying or private intermediaries. Foreign-funded projects or consultancies in strategic sectors must be vetted for national security implication, especially those that involve access to defence data, communications infrastructure or command protocols.

Intelligence sharing arrangements or interoperability protocols with other nations must be reciprocal, limited in scope and monitored by a national security council to avoid information leakage or embedded surveillance risks. Bangladesh must be particularly cautious about dual-use technologies, encrypted communications systems or military-grade software/hardware that could create vulnerabilities to cyber-espionage or remote control. Foreign powers, whether regional or global, must not be allowed to dictate force deployments, influence promotion systems or embed advisors within strategic military decision-making organs. Internal vigilance is also necessary. Attempts by foreign agents, non-governmental organisations or contracted entities to shape defence narratives, public opinion or policy outcomes should be treated as serious threats and addressed through a counter-influence strategy. The overarching principle must be: cooperation without compromise.

Phased and adaptive approach

DEFENCE institutions are inherently conservative — and rightly so — given their mandate to protect continuity and stability. As such, reforms must be designed with a realistic, phased and flexible timeline. A phased reform strategy enables the armed forces to absorb changes, test new systems and adapt operationally without risking readiness or morale. Bangladesh should adopt a model of pilot projects — testing new doctrines, technology integration or organisational changes in limited units or sectors before wider implementation.

A central defence reforms coordination cell can be established within the defence ministry to monitor timelines, identify bottlenecks and report progress. Strategic simulations and war gaming can be used to evaluate reforms proposals under various conflict scenarios — helping policy-makers and commanders foresee unintended consequences or mission failures. A formal mid-term review and post-implementation review mechanism must be embedded into each reforms phase, allowing lessons to be learnt and applied iteratively.

Adaptive planning must also account for political transitions, global shifts and economic downturns, ensuring that reforms can be paused, modified or redirected without destabilising the entire structure. Finally, the reforms must include a succession plan for leadership and institutional knowledge transfer so that progress is not reversed with personnel changes. In this adaptive model, defence reforms become a continuous journey, not a destination — a process that evolves with time, experience, and strategic necessity.

Defence reform is not simply about acquiring new weapons or restructuring command. It is about safeguarding sovereignty, enhancing operational efficiency and ensuring that the armed forces remain a pillar of national unity and stability. In an increasingly contested Indo-Pacific region, a strong, professional and strategically autonomous military is not a luxury; it is a necessity.

But reforms must be done wisely, not hastily. It must respect history, draw from global best practices and, above all, reflect the spirit of the nation it serves.

HRM Rokan Uddin is a retired brigadier general.​

 

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Is there anything to learn for Bangladesh from Iran-Israel war? Are our armed forces capable enough to defend our country with a defense budget of less than 1% of GDP?

 

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Bangladesh’s path to security

THE recent convulsions between Iran and Israel — ignited, as these things often are, by the US cruise missile on Iranian nuclear facilities, a surgical strike that ripped through the fragile fabric of peace — had all the makings of a regional conflagration, a firestorm that could have consumed...

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IRAN’S ISOLATION AND ISRAEL’S CALCULUS

Bangladesh’s path to security
26 June, 2025, 00:00

A handout satellite picture provided by Maxar Technologies shows destroyed buildings adjacent to Mehrabad International Airport in Tehran on June 24. | Agence France-{resse/Maxar Technologies

FOR a nation like Bangladesh, inherently small and geographically vulnerable, the recent Middle Eastern conflagration is not a distant spectacle; it’s a profound case study that demands meticulous scrutiny from our policymakers, strategists and military planners, writes Abdul Monaiem Kudrot Ullah

THE recent convulsions between Iran and Israel — ignited, as these things often are, by the US cruise missile on Iranian nuclear facilities, a surgical strike that ripped through the fragile fabric of peace — had all the makings of a regional conflagration, a firestorm that could have consumed us all. And yet, here we are, breathing a tentative sigh of relief, as both sides, in a grim dance of death and diplomacy, appear to have opted for a peculiar brand of strategic restraint. The exchanges of fire, violent though they were, with their iron domes intercepting drones and ballistic missiles cutting trajectories across the night sky, have largely adhered to the chilling logic of limited war, a concept so eloquently articulated by Sir James Cable: ‘War may be fought for limited objectives by limited means. The political object, rather than the unlimited destruction of the enemy, remains the ultimate goal.’

What follows is a rumination, a lament perhaps, on how these titans, despite their thunderous rhetoric and the menacing flyovers of their fighter jets, have, in their own macabre way, operated within this chilling paradigm. And what does this mean for the trembling balance of power, for the small states like Bangladesh, moored precariously on the global shipping lanes, constantly scanning the horizon for incoming radar signatures, forever condemned to navigate the tempestuous waters of such crises? We, the footnotes in their grand geopolitical narratives, are left to decipher the maritime signaling and the air traffic control chatter of a war that remains, for now, stubbornly confined.

Iran’s strategic calculus

IN THE immediate aftermath of the US strike package on its nuclear facilities — a clear escalatory signal delivered with kinetic force — Iran’s response revealed a nuanced understanding of strategic calculus and asymmetric warfare. While possessing the immediate capability to launch land-based ballistic missile salvos against vulnerable US forward operating bases in Iraq or Jordan, potentially inflicting significant attrition within minutes, Tehran instead chose a different vector. Its targeting doctrine shifted, opting for distant objectives: Israeli military sites and US positions further afield.

This was no mere tactical whim. This was a deliberate signal of reach and escalatory potential, communicated without crossing the red line into a full-scale theatre-wide conflict. By demonstrating its capacity to strike beyond immediate contiguity, Iran projected a credible deterrent while simultaneously creating an off-ramp for de-escalation. Such a calibrated response aligns precisely with what Sir Basil Liddell Hart described as the ‘indirect approach’ — achieving strategic aims not through direct, attrition-based confrontation, but by disrupting an adversary’s equilibrium and influencing their decision-making calculus, thereby avoiding a total war footing. In essence, Tehran engaged in a sophisticated form of signaling through denial, indicating capability without fully exercising it.

Furthermore, a critical element of Iran’s strategic patience was its demonstrable restraint from declaring a nuclear breakout. Such a move, even if technically feasible, would have irrevocably altered the maritime security environment and the broader regional balance of power, likely triggering a cascade of counter-proliferation measures, potentially including a naval blockade or intensified interdiction operations in vital chokepoints like the Strait of Hormuz. Whether this deferral reflects genuine technical limitations in achieving a weaponized capability or a calculated decision to hold that ace in the hole for a more opportune moment remains a matter of intense intelligence community debate and strategic forecasting. The decision to keep this nuclear option shrouded in ambiguity reinforces their adherence to an indirect approach, maintaining a latent threat without the immediate, and potentially devastating, consequences of its overt demonstration.

Illusion of restraints

THE spectacle unfolds, predictable in its cynicism. Trump, ever the maestro of manufactured triumph, declares victory with a flourish, demanding ‘restraint’ from a distance, a curious echo across the Atlantic. Meanwhile, Israel, an entity rarely given to reticence, offers a striking, almost deafening, silence. This, we are told, constitutes a ceasefire, a cessation of hostilities in all but name. And then comes Iran, issuing its declaration, a conditional pledge of inaction, provided Israel refrains from further aggression. This, of course, is presented as the very essence of tacit understandings, the unwritten rules that supposedly govern the theatre of limited wars.

But let us not be swayed by such convenient narratives. What Cable, in his detached analysis, might have identified as ‘mutual signalling essential to avoiding strategic overstretch,’ we, the observers of actual power, recognise as something far more insidious. It is the carefully choreographed dance of imperial interests, a display of feigned control designed to maintain a precarious equilibrium, not for the sake of peace, but for the perpetuation of underlying agendas. This ‘restraint’ is not born of a newfound enlightenment, but rather a calculation of cost and benefit, a recognition that the current geopolitical chess match demands a temporary pause, a realignment of pieces, before the next phase of the game inevitably commences. The ‘ceasefire’ is merely a rebranding of a tactical pause, a testament to the ongoing manipulation of information and the pervasive illusion of choice.

Geometry of power

THE recent convulsions, sharp and alarming as they were, serve as a stark, if unwelcome, reminder of the immutable geometries that define Middle Eastern power politics. It became immediately apparent, to any serious observer, that Israel was far from a solitary actor in this drama. Rather, it operated, as it so often does, under the expansive strategic umbrella provided by the United States and, increasingly, Britain. This foundational support was augmented by crucial logistical and political backing from European partners such as France and Germany. And then, subtly, almost imperceptibly, there was India, offering its discreet nod of approval, a sign of shifting geopolitical currents that bears closer scrutiny.

Iran, by contrast, found itself in a position of marked isolation. Russia, ever the pragmatist, maintained its characteristic posture of studied ambiguity, careful not to compromise its various interests in the region. China’s engagement, while present, was largely confined to the realm of logistics and the somewhat hollow drumbeat of moral posturing — a far cry from robust strategic alignment. Even the much-invoked ‘Islamic world,’ a concept often presented as a cohesive moral community, offered little beyond predictable platitudes and rhetorical solidarity, underscoring the fragmented reality beneath the surface.

This geographical disparity only compounded Iran’s strategic burden. It found itself compelled to project power across vast distances, often exceeding 2,000 kilometres, while its adversaries enjoyed the distinct advantage of operating from proximate bases. This is not merely an academic point; it is a fundamental truth, as any student of Mahan’s theories of sea power or Mackinder’s geopolitical Heartland concepts would readily affirm. Geography, in this theatre, remains the iron framework of strategy, dictating the very contours of capability and influence. The lines on the map, it seems, continue to etch the enduring realities of who holds the whip hand in this unforgiving landscape.

Moral triumph or strategic quagmire?

LET us critically examine what has transpired, moving beyond the immediate echoes of geopolitical posturing. Iran’s recent actions, while undeniably impactful in certain spheres, register primarily as moral and psychological victories, rather than a fundamental shift in the regional strategic equilibrium. Yes, Iran succeeded in exposing vulnerabilities — chinks, if you will — in the seemingly impenetrable armour of Israeli and western air defences. It demonstrated a capacity to breach regional airspaces long considered sacrosanct, sending a powerful message of defiance. And, with its symbolic disruption of maritime flows through the Strait of Hormuz, it asserted a measure of control over a vital global artery, reminding the world of its capacity to inflict economic pain.

Yet, we must not confuse these tactical successes, however real, with a genuine alteration of the strategic balance of power. While Israel’s deterrence posture undoubtedly suffered a dent, a blow to its aura of invincibility, its core advantages remain stubbornly intact. We speak here of its profound technological superiority, its proven capacity for rapid mobilization of forces, and, crucially, the unwavering bedrock of its external alliances. These are the pillars upon which its regional dominance rests, and none of them have been fundamentally eroded by Iran’s recent demonstrations.

What we are witnessing, then, is less a decisive victory and more a strategic stalemate, a complex dance where psychological gains are weighed against enduring material realities. The question remains: how long can such moral victories sustain a nation in the face of overwhelming structural disadvantages? And what are the true implications for a region perpetually caught between the rhetoric of confrontation and the enduring realities of power? This is a discourse we must continue to engage with, critically and without illusion.

Diplomatic imperative

IF IRAN is to move beyond the temporary and fragile rewards of this latest round of confrontation, it must grasp that true strength lies not in the fleeting satisfaction of tactical defiance, but in the ability to shape a sustainable, legitimate regional order. This pause in hostilities — tenuous as it may be — offers Tehran an opening to pursue formal guarantees and security assurances not only for Gaza, Hezbollah, the Houthis, and its Syrian allies, but for the region as a whole. Such a course would mark a decisive break from the reactive, resistance-centric posture that has defined its foreign policy for decades.

Iran stands at a crossroads. It can continue to derive its identity and regional influence through asymmetric warfare and the politics of confrontation, or it can attempt what so few in the modern Middle East have dared: to use its leverage not simply to outlast its adversaries, but to lay the groundwork for an inclusive security framework that addresses the root causes of instability. This would demand that Iran transcend narrow sectarian and ideological calculations, and engage its neighbours — not as enemies to be outmanoeuvred, but as partners in a shared regional order.

The warnings of history are stark. Bismarck’s Realpolitik, while temporarily stabilising 19th-century Europe, laid the foundation for future conflict by relying on coercion and exclusion rather than integration and reconciliation. Gamal Abdel Nasser’s charismatic defiance inspired a generation, but his failure to build durable alliances and inclusive regional mechanisms consigned the Arab world to decades of division and decline. These precedents remind us that tactical brilliance and military resilience are no substitutes for strategic vision and political legitimacy.

Iran has proven it can survive siege, sanctions and sabotage. What remains unproven is whether it can convert its undoubted resilience into the kind of statesmanship that might break the cycle of violence and sectarian fragmentation that has disfigured the region for so long. The tragedy of modern Middle Eastern history is not a shortage of courage or sacrifice, but a persistent failure of leadership to imagine a future beyond war.

In the end, missiles may win battles, but it is diplomacy that wins peace. The true test before Iran — and indeed before the entire region — is whether this moment will be remembered as yet another missed opportunity, or as the first, halting step towards a new regional compact. Such a transition demands not only strategic calculation, but the moral courage to depart from the well-worn paths of confrontation towards the more difficult, uncertain terrain of reconciliation and shared security.

Strategic hedging for Bangladesh

FOR a nation like Bangladesh, inherently small and geographically vulnerable, the recent Middle Eastern conflagration is not a distant spectacle; it’s a profound case study that demands meticulous scrutiny from our policymakers, strategists and military planners. The lessons gleaned from this crisis are, in essence, security imperatives that highlight the critical need for a robust strategy of strategic hedging.

Iran’s stark isolation in this confrontation serves as a chilling testament to the grave perils awaiting any nation that attempts to chart a truly unilateral course in a volatile geopolitical landscape. Without dependable, diversified alliances, without a credible and flexible deterrence posture, and crucially, without access to multiple avenues of strategic depth, the capacity for autonomous action rapidly diminishes. For Bangladesh, circumscribed by its unique geography and perpetually reliant on the goodwill of its immediate neighbours and distant external powers, this is a lesson writ large. We must remain acutely aware of the dangers inherent in overestimating our capacity for independent action when fundamental matters of national security are at stake. Strategic autonomy, for a state like ours, is not a function of defiant isolation but rather a careful cultivation of a broad spectrum of external relationships, allowing us to hedge against over-reliance on any single power or bloc. This means engaging with multiple partners, exploring diverse security cooperation agreements, and maintaining diplomatic manoeuvrability to avoid being drawn into one-sided alignments.

Iran’s experience also vividly underscores a timeless truth: no amount of moral conviction or rhetorical resolve can fundamentally overcome the immutable constraints imposed by geography. For Bangladesh, nestled precariously, surrounded on three sides by India and possessing a narrow strategic space with highly vulnerable maritime approaches, this dictates a profound sense of prudence and the imperative for calculated flexibility. Our national strategy, therefore, cannot be a grand, abstract design. It must be meticulously and realistically aligned wwith the uncompromising realities of our geopolitical environment, perpetually balancing national ambition with the hard, often unforgiving, limits of our physical location. This necessitates a multi-vector foreign policy, one that acknowledges geographical realities but seeks to mitigate their constraints through astute diplomacy and diversified partnerships, preventing any single power from dictating our strategic choices.

Price of silence

SO THE missiles have fallen silent — for now. The leaders of men craft their narratives of restraint, their speeches thick with hollow words, while flags are lowered and the battlefields lie in uneasy stillness. But let us not be deceived. Wars like these do not end. They linger, like poison, in the rubble of shattered cities, in the broken backs of families that will never be whole again, in the scarred lands that will not heal, in the hollowed hearts of the dispossessed. They fester, quietly, waiting for the next spark to ignite the next lie.

Let us tell the truth: Iran did not start this war, but she paid the price in a higher coin than any of her enemies. It was Israel that set this chain of destruction in motion, with its sense of impunity intact and its power undiminished. It was the United States that crossed the line, dropping bombs on Iranian nuclear sites in the dead of night, cloaking aggression in the language of security. And the world watched — watched and said nothing. Russia, Turkey, Pakistan — all issued their carefully weighed words, all offered lip service, but stayed snug within their own strategic calculus, unwilling to risk more than platitudes. And as always, it will be Iran — cornered, bloodied and defiant — that the media will blame for this destruction. That is the script. That is the theatre. That is the obscenity we have come to accept.

From this tragic spectacle, let Bangladesh — and all small nations — draw a lesson deeper than fiery slogans or fleeting outrage. Real security is not built only on moral grandstanding or defiant gestures that cost more than they achieve, but also on patient, tireless investment in tangible strength: resilient economies, diverse partnerships, credible defences and a diplomacy wise enough to navigate storms without capsizing. Safety does not come from empty pride, but from carefully balancing ambition with means, hedging against the betrayals of allies, and refusing to mortgage the future for a few moments of righteous fury.

And as global citizens, let us stop mistaking destruction for heroism. Let us stop confusing might with right. Let us demand more of ourselves. Let us invest in peace — not just in speeches, but in the hard, unglamorous work of building just societies, protecting the earth, and holding the powerful to account. Because in the end, no missile, no wall, no empire will keep us safe. Only a world built on justice, dignity and sustainability can do that.

May we find the courage to choose that path — before the next war begins.

Abdul Monaiem Kudrot Ullah, a retired captain of the Bangladesh navy, is an informed voice on institutional reform, geo-strategy, strategic governance and supply chain management.​

 

[Saif]

Looming threat from militants active abroad

The news that as many as 36 Bangladeshi migrants in Malaysia have been arrested for their involvement in militancy is unsettling to say the least. They were active in introducing Islamic State (IS)-inspired ideology in the host country and formed recruitment cells within the community of their comp

thefinancialexpress.com.bd

Looming threat from militants active abroad

Neil Ray
Published :
Jun 29, 2025 21:47
Updated :
Jun 29, 2025 21:47

The news that as many as 36 Bangladeshi migrants in Malaysia have been arrested for their involvement in militancy is unsettling to say the least. They were active in introducing Islamic State (IS)-inspired ideology in the host country and formed recruitment cells within the community of their compatriots there, according to The New Straits Times. Whether the militants had any ambition of spreading terrorism in Malaysia is not clear but the authorities there made it amply clear that the "cells were set up to indoctrinate radical beliefs, raise funds for terrorist activities, and to ultimately overthrow the legitimate government in their home country".

Malaysia follows a strict policy against terrorism. Datuk Seri Saifuddin Nasution Ismail, the Home Minister of that country revealed that planned security operation based on intelligence gathered by the Special Branch carried out in three phases in Selangor and Johor could nab the 36 Bangladeshis in connection with the organised undercover militant activities. Of them, five have been "charged under the Offences Relating to Terrorism (Chapter VIA) of the Penal Code" in two sessions courts. Another 15 of the group have been issued deportation order and the rest 16 are under investigation for their involvement in the clandestine militant movement.

Clearly, Malaysia's campaign against militancy has been swift and decisive, but is Bangladesh now equally determined to fight militancy? After the August 5 uprising, terrorists and anti-social elements came out of jails when the gates of many of those including the high-security one at Kashimpur were broken open. The six Islamist terrorists who attacked the Holey Artisans in Gulshan, Dhaka, killing 22 people, many of them foreigners, were killed but their seven associates including their masterminds were sentenced to death. Their whereabouts are not known. Also two militants of the banned Ansar al-Islam were snatched from the crowded court area in old Dhaka. They are still at large.

In fact, the interim government had little time to pay attention to the re-emergence of militancy in the country. The fluid state of politics in the country has not helped the cause. Some point accusing fingers at the attack on the Bangladesh Television building at Rampura, Metro Rail station at Kazipara and other highly sensitive infrastructures and centres on militants who joined the protesters during the movement.

Malaysia has done its part of the job by busting the dens of militants who organised there and were making preparation for unleashing attacks on the government in Bangladesh at their convenience. But busting the terrorist network in Malaysia may not be enough. The militant groups may have formed a coalition among themselves in order to advance their common goal of unseating any elected government in the country. There is no guarantee that the IS followers are not active in other countries with the same dubious objective. Even they may try to cause serious disruption during the election to be held tentatively in February next year.

The police force is yet to make full recovery from the setback it suffered during and after the uprising. There is a need for extra vigilance and thankfully the Border Guard Bangladesh (BGB), the Rapid Action Battalion (RAB) and the Army are still on security duty. The police seem more to be interested in apprehending the members of the former ruling party of the fallen government than minding other pressing business. Since they had intimate knowledge of the militant groups, their service should be made good use of in hunting the militants, if any, trying to staging a comeback.

Meanwhile, communications should be established with the Malaysian authorities in order to verify the militant backgrounds of those accused. They should be interned on their deportation from Malaysia and quizzed to get as much information as possible. If they have international connections, they may be made to admit so.​