The Yunus-led interim government provided fertile ground for Pakistan to manoeuvre this policy.

When Sheikh Hasina was removed from office in August 2024 after mismanaging two-month student uprising through violence, the political aftershocks were felt well beyond Dhaka. While an interim administration led by Nobel laureate Muhammad Yunus took charge shortly to stabilize and reset the country, but inside the shifting currents of Bangladeshi politics, there was another country saw opportunity, which was Pakistan.

For Islamabad, the fall of Prime Minister Hasina, who was long perceived as closely aligned with India, appeared to offer a rare strategic opening. The interim arrangement which was crowded by sympathizers of Bangladesh Jamaat-e-Islami, created space for religious parties long marginalized under the Awami League’s rule. Pakistan moved quickly with intensified diplomatic exchanges, and even senior military leadership of two countries making reciprocal visits.

But what increased with unusual frequency was Pakistani religious delegations travelling to different cities and towns of Bangladesh from Dhaka to Cox’s Bazar in south and Sylhet in east, among others.

Behind the choreography appeared Islamabad’s clear calculation that if Bangladesh’s Islamist political sphere could be rejuvenated, Dhaka might be kept away from New Delhi and within the broader regional orbit of Islamabad. That bet seems to have failed now. In the recently concluded 13^th general election, Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP) won a landslide two-thirds majority, winning 212 of the 299 seats on the ballot.

Led by Tarique Rahman, son of former Prime Minister Khaleda Zia and former President Ziaur Rahman, BNP campaigned on the slogan of “Bangladesh First”, emphasising that it will not be beholden to any foreign capital. This political messaging seems to have resonated powerfully with the Bangladeshi electorate.

Such a decisive vote has delivered a strong message to Pakistan, which seemed convinced that its favoured Islamist bloc will win the elections and give Islamabad a strong footing in Dhaka.

Pakistan’s Bangladesh policy in the post-Hasina moment followed a familiar template. It has for decades viewed South Asia through the prism of strategic competition with India. Where New Delhi consolidates influence, Pakistan seeks counterweights as has been witnessed in Afghanistan where this logic has shaped policy for years. In Bangladesh, Islamabad appeared to hope for a softer replay.

The Yunus-led interim government provided fertile ground for Pakistan to manoeuvre this policy. As Islamist networks that had faced political constraints under the Awami League suddenly found renewed visibility, Islamabad’s outreach extended beyond official channels into clerical and ideological spaces.

For instance, Maulana Fazlur Rehman, head of Deobandi Islamist Jamiat Ulema-e-Islam (F), led a delegation of around two dozen prominent Pakistani religious leaders to Bangladesh ahead of parliamentary election in November 2025. They addressed large gatherings, organised under the banner of Khatm-e-Nabuwat conferences, across major cities and towns of the country, which were reportedly held in support of Islamist political actors preparing to contest the February 12 election.

The symbolism of this religious affinity was hard to miss and, it seems, Islamabad believed that by encouraging the Islamization of Bangladesh’s political sphere, it could cultivate a government less beholden to India and more receptive to Pakistan.

Yet this approach rested on two flawed assumptions. Firstly, it overestimated the electoral pull of Islamist forces in contemporary Bangladesh and secondly underestimating the depth of Bangladesh’s historical memory around 1971 war crimes committed by Pakistan Army in what was then East Pakistan.

This memory and Islamabad’s reluctance to issue a formal apology over the war crimes remains central to Bangladesh’s national identity. It seems Pakistani policymakers willingly or otherwise seemed to calculate that five decades were enough to blunt that legacy and that religious affinity could transcend historical grievance.

For many Bangladeshis, Pakistan is not simply another state but a former ruler whose actions precipitated immense trauma which remains unchanged across generations. If anything, it has been institutionalized through education, public commemorations and war crimes trials. And BNP’s campaign slogans captured this sentiment with clarity as it called for “Bangladesh First” against any outright alliance with any foreign power (Na Pindi, Na Dilli).

Moreover, Pakistan’s attempt to leverage Islamization as a foreign policy tool also reveals a deeper tension. While Bangladesh is a Muslim-majority country, yet its political culture remains fundamentally based on Bengali linguistic nationalism. The Awami League’s secular framing was one expression of that synthesis.

Even the BNP, while more accommodating of religious parties as was witnessed during its earlier rules, has not sought to subordinate national policy to clerical authority. While it is true that interim government’s closeness with Jamaat-e-Islami may have energized segments of Islamist base, but, as the results showed, it did not translate into a groundswell.

Therefore, it is quite possible that Islamabad’s outreach through clerical visits, cross-border religious gatherings, symbolic solidarity may have reinforced suspicions that Islamist mobilization was being externally encouraged. For a country sensitive to sovereignty, such perceptions usually prove counterproductive.

In fact, there is an irony here.  While Pakistan’s own domestic experience illustrates the complexities of entangling religion and statecraft, yet in Bangladesh, it appeared willing to encourage precisely that dynamic in pursuit of geopolitical advantage.

Nevertheless, the failure of Pakistan’s Bangladesh bid echoes its recent miscalculation in Afghanistan where Islamabad’s military-dominated establishment believed that it possessed decisive influence in Kabul after backing Afghan Taliban’s return to power in 2021. But relations with Afghanistan today are strained, marked by months long border closure and recurrent skirmishes along the contested Durand Line dividing the two countries. 

It can be argued that Pakistan overestimated the durability of ideological affinity as a substitute for structural partnership in both the cases. Neither has religious affinity guaranteed strategic alignment with Kabul nor has it now delivered political ascendancy in Dhaka as Bangladesh’s electorate has signalled that while religion remains integral to social life, it does not automatically translate into foreign policy alignment.

For Pakistan, this presents a dilemma since Dhaka’s determination to pursue a “Bangladesh First” policy offers limited space for the kind of ideological leverage that Islamabad sought to cultivate.

While Islamabad’s Bangladesh policy after 2024 was built on the hope that a moment of political flux could be shaped into strategic realignment, its engagement will therefore need recalibration and for any pragmatism to sustain, the relations will have to be transactional and grounded in mutual interest rather than religious solidarity.

Disclaimer: Views expressed by writers in this section are their own and do not reflect Milli Chronicle’s point-of-view.

Co-Author: Abu Obaidha Arin (He is a student from Bangladesh studying at Delhi University. He is a Bangladesh observer)

Sustained Jamaat rule could also exhaust anti-India sentiment by exposing governance failures, internal contradictions, and economic stress.

As Bangladesh approaches a decisive national election, the dominant assumption across political camps is not stability but an absolute turbulence. Irrespective of who wins, the post-election phase is likely to be marked by extreme confrontation, street mobilisation, and institutional paralysis.

From India’s perspective, this election is not merely about Dhaka’s internal power transition; it is about the direction of Bangladesh’s statehood, its ideological trajectory, and the security implications for India’s eastern flank.

The Ground Reality: BNP’s Electoral Advantage

If a broadly fair election takes place, the Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP) and its alliance remain electorally better positioned. Based on constituency-level dynamics, BNP could plausibly secure around 220 seats, driven by organisational depth, street muscle power, informal financing networks like Hawala, and a long-standing vote bank.

Jamaat-e-Islami, despite improved coordination, better organisational capabilities, and administrative reach, lacks comparable grassroots strength, social acceptance, and credible candidates, particularly in urban centres like the capital, Dhaka. Even where Jamaat has attempted voter engineering, such as shifting large voter blocs across constituencies, it remains structurally weaker than BNP in terms of coercive capacity and public legitimacy.

The administration itself appears aware of this reality. Bureaucratic behaviour already suggests a strong hedging towards a BNP-led future, which limits the effectiveness of Jamaat-centric electoral engineering. Smaller players such as the NCP, technically an offshoot of the Jamaat, are, at present, marginal, possibly securing only isolated victories like Cumilla-4, without national impact.

Yet electoral victory does not equate to political stability.

Scenario One: BNP Wins, But the Street Erupts

A BNP victory is unlikely to bring calm. The immediate trigger for unrest would be any attempt by the outgoing regime to retain influence through a “Gono Parishad” or all-party interim arrangement for 180 working days, or through continued authority for figures like Muhammad Yunus to push a July Charter or constitutional referendum.

BNP supporters, and crucially, large sections of the general-public, are unlikely to accept such arrangements after an electoral mandate.

This would lead to a direct confrontation between the state apparatus and BNP’s Street power. While this clash may temporarily benefit forces seeking to re-enter political relevance, it carries a deeper risk: Jamaat’s silent expansion under a BNP government.

Historically, Jamaat has thrived not by leading governments but by embedding itself within them, leveraging ideology, street cadres, and foreign networks while avoiding direct accountability.

From India’s perspective, this is the most dangerous long-term trajectory. A BNP government under constant pressure may tolerate Jamaat’s growth to maintain street balance.

As anti-India rhetoric rises, often as a unifying political tool, so too does the risk of cross-border radicalisation, revival of dormant terror networks, and gradual erosion of Bangladesh’s secular foundations. This is not short-term chaos but a slow destabilisation, which is far harder to counter.

Scenario Two: Jamaat Engineers a Victory, Short-Term Fire, Long-Term Clarity

If electoral engineering succeeds and Jamaat emerges dominant, instability would be immediate and severe. BNP would mobilise its full street strength against what it would frame as an illegitimate, radical takeover. The resulting confrontation, between Jamaat-aligned state forces and BNP supporters, would fracture the political system.

Paradoxically, this scenario, though more violent in the short term, may be strategically clearer. Lines would be sharply drawn between the legacy forces of 1971 and openly pro-Pakistan, Islamist formations.

BNP, weakened by repression and internal strain, would be forced to recalibrate, potentially seeking reconciliation with secular forces it previously sidelined. In such a polarised environment, Awami League would likely re-emerge over time as the only cohesive national alternative.

For India, this scenario carries immediate security risks but fewer illusions. New Delhi tends to manage overt threats better than ambiguous ones.

A Jamaat-led dispensation would likely compel India to harden its eastern security posture, strengthen intelligence coordination, and work more openly with global partners. Importantly, sustained Jamaat rule could also exhaust anti-India sentiment by exposing governance failures, internal contradictions, and economic stress.

India’s Core Interest: Stability Without Radicalisation

In the present circumstances, where the Awami League has been manipulatively debarred from electoral participation by the interim authority, India’s primary concern is no longer which party governs Bangladesh. The overriding question is whether Bangladesh can remain a stable, secular, and non-hostile neighbour.

A prolonged phase of instability combined with the deepening institutionalisation of Islamist politics represents the gravest threat. While short-term unrest is costly, it remains manageable if it culminates in ideological clarity and an eventual institutional reset. Long-term destabilisation, however, would steadily erode state capacity and regional security.

What makes the current moment especially dangerous is the growing footprint of the most radical sections operating out of Pakistan, increasingly intersecting with ISIS-linked ideological and operational ecosystems, and sustained by continuous external patronage, financial, digital, and organisational. These networks do not merely seek political leverage; they aim to reshape Bangladesh’s ideological orientation itself.

If left unchecked, Bangladesh risks evolving into a new and more complex Pakistan-type challenge for India, with greater unpredictability, higher levels of urban penetration, technologically adept radical actors, and a far deeper integration of extremism into civil society than India has historically faced from Islamabad.

For New Delhi, this transforms Bangladesh from a familiar diplomatic and security equation into the most difficult neighbour to manage in the long run. The threat is no longer confined to cross-border militancy but extends to radicalisation pipelines, information warfare, and the slow hollowing out of secular political space.

India must therefore resist reactive diplomacy and prepare for multiple contingencies: quietly reinforcing border security, intensifying surveillance of radical networks, countering transnational extremist financing, and maintaining calibrated engagement with all non-extremist political forces inside Bangladesh.

The months ahead will test not only Bangladesh’s democratic resilience, but also India’s strategic patience and foresight. The election may determine a government. The aftermath will determine the region’s future.

Disclaimer: Views expressed by writers in this section are their own and do not reflect Milli Chronicle’s point-of-view.

Seen from such a lens, Asim Munir’s use of analogies like ‘dump truck’ or the ‘railway engine’ are not harmless political theatre.

Pakistan’s leaders, both political and military, have long relied on self-serving metaphors to shape the domestic sociopolitical sphere and frame their country’s place in the broader region. Often delivered with a dramaturgical embellishment, these analogies do more than reflect insecurity or national mythmaking. They reveal a deeper strategic mindset in which Pakistan sees value in disruption, leverage through instability, and the cultivation of terrorism as a tool of statecraft.

The latest examples come from Pakistan’s powerful military establishment, which has historically dominated the country’s political and security architecture. It started with Pakistan Army Chief Asim Munir’s interaction with expatriates in Florida, United States, in August this year, wherein he deployed a comparison that captured headlines for its brazenness. “India is a shining Mercedes coming on a highway like a Ferrari,” he said. “But we are a dump truck full of gravel. If the truck hits the car, who is going to be the loser?”

On its surface, such remarks appeared to emphasize resilience: that Pakistan as a lumbering truck may not be glamorous, but it can endure any difficulty and overcome any obstacle. Yet the real significance of this ironical analogy lies elsewhere. It implies that Pakistan retains the capability as well as readiness to cause strategic disruption, even at great cost to itself, and in doing so shape regional outcomes. The metaphor glorifies collision as an equalizer. It suggests that while India surges economically and diplomatically, Pakistan’s relevance lies in its ability to destabilize.

A parallel metaphor that is being increasingly used by the country’s political and military elite describes Pakistan as a “railway engine”, that is portrays it on a slow, traditional, yet persistent mode of progress. The image is meant to frame Pakistan as foundational to South Asian stability, chugging along in contrast to India’s sleek modernization. Implicit in this imagery is the claim that the region’s momentum, direction, and safety can still be both set and derailed by Pakistan’s choices.

Such analogies may seem rhetorical to common masses and yet contain within them a longstanding doctrine of purposeful disruption that Pakistan has employed in the last several decades. It is based on its decades-old strategic worldview wherein it has consistently valorized confrontation, framing India as an existential threat, and more domestically more significant objective of positioning proxy-terrorism as a legitimate extension of state power. 

Such a propagandistic rhetoric has found currency amidst Asim Munir’s sweeping consolidation of authority through constitutional amendments to expanded control over the judiciary, nuclear command, and internal security. This narrative push is designed to reinforce his martial narrative that Pakistan may be economically battered, politically unstable, and diplomatically isolated, but it remains capable of inflicting damage that forces global attention.

As such, while Pakistan’s establishment may dress its messaging in fresh metaphors, the underlying doctrine has barely evolved. Since the 26/11 attacks by ISI supported Lashkar-e-Toiba terrorists in Mumbai, there has been little substantive reckoning within Pakistan about the use of terrorist groups as strategic assets. If anything, the rhetoric of state officials in the years since reveals continuity, not change.

It should be noted that there has been consensus within Pakistani establishment, as exposed by the statements from senior retired generals, political leaders, and religious ideologues, who often reiterate that proxy terrorism can be a “force multiplier” against India. Such an argument has been repeatedly framed as asymmetric necessity given that since Pakistan cannot match New Delhi conventionally, so it must leverage “non-state actors” to disrupt India’s rise even as its own economy falters. It explains why and how terrorist groups like LeT and Jaish-e-Mohammed have been normalized within the socio-political discourse of the country by portraying terrorists as instruments of pressure than what they are: terrorists.

This mindset is reflected not only in Pakistan’s reluctance to prosecute figures like Hafiz Saeed or Masood Azhar, but also in its sustained tolerance of groups that openly espouse cross-border terrorism sold as so-called jihad. And the danger of such rhetoric is not abstract as it has recurrently translated into violence that has spilled far beyond India’s borders. Be it 26/11 attacks of 2008 in India or the 9/11 attacks in the United States in 2001, these showcased how such a mentality that the Pakistani establishment patronises can have devastating human costs.

Just as the 9/11 attacks targeted symbols of American openness and global leadership which the world forever, 26/11 targeted India’s cosmopolitan identity to sow internal discord and disrupt its global economic rise. Therefore, should Pakistan’s leadership continue to present disruption as strategic leverage, as they are doing currently, the risk of mass-casualty attacks would remain unacceptably high.

Seen from such a lens, Asim Munir’s use of analogies like ‘dump truck’ or the ‘railway engine’ are not harmless political theatre. It is a reflection of a national mindset of a country of mismanaged economy, which is unable to compete with rising India in any domain, sees strategic relevance in the threat of sabotage. It is a worldview that sees regional equilibrium not in growth or cooperation but in managed instability maintained through terrorist proxies. And that worldview does not confine risk to South Asia, which is why Pakistan’s analogies matter. 

In such a scenario, while India cannot afford any complacency, it makes it implicit on the international community to acknowledge that South Asian terrorism, especially when linked to state sponsorship like Pakistan’s role, poses a threat transcending national borders.

Nevertheless, two lessons stand out. Firstly, there needs to be greater transnational intelligence synergy at the international level. For instance, given that countries like India, the United States, the EU, Israel, Southeast Asian partners, and Gulf states, have a shared interest in tackling terrorism, they would need to bolster real-time intelligence exchange, establish joint tracking of financing networks, and coordinated monitoring of extremist propaganda.

Secondly, diplomatic isolation of terror-sponsoring frameworks is no longer optional. The world must explicitly differentiate between Pakistan as a nation and Pakistan’s security apparatus as a destabilizing actor and shape policy accordingly. This is because civilian government is a façade in that country as it is overwhelmingly dominated by the military establishment. 

Therefore, the “dump truck” and “railway engine” analogies may have been meant to project endurance, but they expose a darker truth of Pakistan’s military leadership’s outdated belief that regional power can be exercised through disruption and not development. Unless such a mindset is confronted at political, diplomatic, and strategic levels, the international community should rest assured that its risks will not be borne by India alone. 

Disclaimer: Views expressed by writers in this section are their own and do not reflect Milli Chronicle’s point-of-view.