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People read newspapers at a stall following border tension, in Karachi on May 7. India and Pakistan exchanged heavy artillery along their contested frontier in Kashmir on May 7. | Agence France-Presse/Rizwan Tabassum

THE morning of May 7 arrived like a clenched fist over South Asia. In pre-dawn hours, India launched ‘Operation Sindoor’, missile strikes across the Pakistani territory and the contested expanse of Pakistan-administered Kashmir. Officially, New Delhi called it a ‘measured’ operation — targeted, restrained and in direct response to a recent terrorist attack in Pahalgam that left 26 dead. But the messaging did little to cool nerves. Within hours, Pakistan claimed to have shot down several Indian aircraft. For a region where war has often felt like a bad memory waiting to return, the escalation struck an all-too-familiar chord.

While the immediate confrontation unfolded far from its own borders, Bangladesh — quietly positioned on India’s eastern edge — found itself grappling with what such a conflict means when it is too close to ignore but too dangerous to approach directly.


This was not just another flare-up. ‘Sindoor’ went well beyond the precedent set by earlier strikes like Uri in 2016 or Balakot in 2019. The scope this time was wider, the technology more advanced and the intent unmistakably forceful. Reports named cities such as Muzaffarabad and Bahawalpur among the targets. The Indian defence establishment claimed the hits had dismantled terrorist infrastructure and left scores dead. Across the border, Pakistan painted a very different picture: civilian casualties, damaged mosques and a defiant counter-response that included military pushback and downed jets. The fog of war, thickened by competing narratives, made it harder than ever to tell where facts ended and theatre began.

For Dhaka, the challenge was not just in parsing truth from propaganda — it was in navigating what came next. Geography offers no safe corners. India surrounds Bangladesh on nearly all sides and while relations have warmed over the years, they remain sensitive to shifts in regional power plays. A serious escalation on India’s western front could easily force troop repositioning or tighten security across shared borders. Even absent from direct conflict, the psychological and logistical spillover could be substantial.

Then there is the economic exposure. Trade between India and Bangladesh exceeds $15 billion annually, much of it tied into interconnected supply routes and fragile transport corridors. A prolonged standoff — let alone a war — would leave those links fraying fast. And in a country where the apparel industry and domestic markets depend on smooth logistics, the ripple effects would hit hard and early.

Add to that the unspeakable — the nuclear shadow that looms large over every India-Pakistan confrontation. Neither side has rattled that particular sabre just yet, but it does not take much imagination to picture how swiftly things could spiral. For a country like Bangladesh, the idea of a nuclear exchange anywhere in the region is terrifying not just in theory. Fallout, literal or otherwise, does not respect borders.

So, where does that leave Bangladesh? In a tight spot, certainly. Taking sides would be political quicksand, but doing nothing risks irrelevance. A quiet diplomatic approach may be the only path forward — one that leverages Bangladesh’s neutral standing in forums such as SAARC, even if that organisation has long struggled to move the needle in times of crisis. But behind closed doors, officials in Dhaka are no doubt gaming out every possible scenario: refugee flows, economic disruption and, even, cyber threats. This is less about posturing and more about preparation.

Refugees, in particular, are not a hypothetical concern. Bangladesh is already stretched thin, hosting more than a million Rohingya refugees from neighbouring Myanmar. Another influx — this time from the north-west — would strain the system past its breaking point. It is not likely just yet, but the odds are no longer zero. That is reason enough to prepare, quietly and thoroughly.

Zooming out, the bigger picture is just as murky. The region had been inching forwards with ambitious connectivity projects like the India-Middle East-Europe Corridor, a potential counter to China’s Belt and Road Initiative. This crisis casts a long shadow over those efforts. For Dhaka, which has worked hard to maintain a careful equilibrium between Indian influence and Chinese investment, this is another thread in an already tangled web.

There is also the question no one seems to answer convincingly: why is South Asia still without a real conflict-resolution framework? Decades after independence and despite shared history, languages and markets, the region remains woefully unprepared for crises of this scale. SAARC, often sidelined by India-Pakistan tension, offers little more than symbolic gestures in moments like this. And yet, that vacuum creates an opening — however small — for countries like Bangladesh to at least initiate conversations about security architecture that does not rely solely on bilateral back channels or international mediation.

On the ground, in homes and on street corners, the reaction has been a mix of quiet unease and fatalistic shoulder shrugs. Memories of 1971 are never far and although today’s battlefield lies elsewhere, the emotional pull of that past still colours how Bangladeshis absorb news of India and Pakistan clashing again. Some worry about what might come next. Others are simply tired — tired of a region that never quite figures out how to live in peace for more than a few years at a stretch.

The economic nerves are harder to ignore. Investors, ever sensitive to geopolitical risk, may decide to wait and see before committing fresh capital. Tourism, already a tough sell for many foreign travellers, becomes harder when the region features in headlines for wrong reasons. Energy import — vital for a growing economy — could also face turbulence if regional sea lanes see disruption.

Dhaka’s foreign policy thinkers are now staring at a hard question: can Bangladesh continue to maintain its careful balancing act in a neighbourhood constantly pulled by larger rivalries? The answer probably lies in resilience, discretion and a heavy dose of realpolitik. Lean too far toward India and it risks being seen as a satellite. Open up too much to Pakistan or China and the backlash, subtle or not, follows swiftly. The path forward, as always, is narrow and fraught but not impossible.

Whatever happens in the days to come, Bangladesh’s actions will say a lot about how small nations survive in a world still ruled by old rivalries and new risks. It will not be about making the headlines. It will be about staying steady while everyone else is bracing for the next hit.

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Md Ibrahim Khalilullah is an analyst with expertise in law and development sectors.