
IN THE political landscape of the 20th and 21st centuries, few forces have shaped the Muslim world as profoundly as US intervention. Behind the rhetoric of democracy and freedom lay a deeper geopolitical logic: the containment of socialism and the protection of Western economic and strategic interests. Yet in the process, the United States helped unleash one of the most destabilising forces in modern history — the rise of militant religious fundamentalism.
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The Cold War and the birth of a dangerous alliance
DURING the Cold War, Washington’s greatest fear was not extremism, but socialism. Across the Middle East and South Asia, the postcolonial generation was experimenting with secular, socialist, and nationalist movements — from Mossadegh’s Iran to Nasser’s Egypt and the Ba’athists in Iraq and Syria. These governments were not without flaws, but they sought economic independence, public ownership of resources, and a future free from imperial dictates.
To counter these movements, the US found its most reliable allies among conservative monarchies and clerical establishments. In Saudi Arabia, a pact was forged between American oil interests and the House of Saud, whose legitimacy rested on the strict Wahhabi interpretation of Islam. This alliance exported not only oil, but ideology — funding madrassas, preachers, and political movements that opposed socialism under the banner of ‘Islamic purity.’
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Afghanistan: the crucible of modern extremism
THE most striking example came in Afghanistan in the 1980s. When the Soviet Union invaded, Washington saw an opportunity to bleed its rival. Through ‘Operation Cyclone,’ the CIA funneled billions of dollars in weapons and training to the mujahideen — many of whom were indoctrinated in Wahhabi schools funded by Saudi Arabia and Pakistan.
The result was the birth of a global jihadist network. The US celebrated the mujahideen as ‘freedom fighters’ at the time, but the same fighters — once abandoned — would evolve into the Taliban and al-Qaeda. The ideological infrastructure of extremism, built to fight communism, outlived the Cold War itself and spread like wildfire through disillusioned societies.
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Iran and Iraq: undermining progress for power
IN IRAN, the 1953 CIA-backed coup that overthrew the democratically elected Mohammad Mossadegh marked the beginning of a long shadow. Mossadegh’s ‘crime’ was nationalising Iran’s oil, challenging both British and American dominance. His overthrow installed the Shah’s dictatorship, which, though secular, relied on brutal repression and Western backing — creating the conditions for the 1979 Islamic Revolution.
In Iraq, too, US policy oscillated between support and destruction. Washington armed Saddam Hussein during his war against Iran in the 1980s, then turned against him in the 1990s and 2000s. Each intervention fractured Iraqi society further, eroding secularism and fueling sectarianism — a chaos from which extremist movements like ISIS later emerged.
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The Israeli question and the contradiction of American policy
AT THE heart of US strategy lies its unwavering support for Israel — militarily, financially, and diplomatically. This alliance has come at immense moral and political cost, deepening the wounds of occupation and displacement in Palestine. While the US speaks of democracy, it simultaneously empowers regimes and ideologies that suppress pluralism — as long as they align with its regional interests.
This contradiction exposes a larger truth: Washington’s foreign policy has rarely been about supporting freedom, but about controlling narratives and resources. When Muslim-majority nations — out of desperation or division — invite US intervention to resolve internal conflicts, they often end up importing deeper instability instead. What is called ‘counterterrorism’ often perpetuates the very cycles of radicalization it claims to end.
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The US in Chittagong and St Martin’s: a warning for Bangladesh
IN RECENT months, the rising visibility of the United States in Bangladesh — through joint military exercises in Chittagong and alleged interest in St. Martin’s Island — has unsettled many who remember the long shadows of foreign intervention. Washington calls these activities ‘humanitarian cooperation’ under its Indo-Pacific framework, yet history tells us that American military footprints rarely remain limited to aid or disaster drills.
Bangladesh stands at a dangerous crossroads. The Bay of Bengal has become a theatre of global competition — China from the east, India from the west, and now the United States stepping in from afar. Each power claims friendship, but all pursue strategy. St. Martin’s Island, a fragile coral sanctuary near Myanmar, has suddenly become more than an island — it’s a symbol of sovereignty, of whether Bangladesh will chart its own course or become another pawn in the endless war games of empires.
The American presence, if allowed to deepen, carries cultural and political consequences beyond geopolitics. Everywhere Washington’s ‘war on terror’ has touched, it has polarised societies, strengthened extremist narratives, and eroded social balance. Bangladesh, a country where religion and identity are already sensitive, must be alert to this contagion. Extremism thrives in the soil of foreign military presence — it feeds off occupation, arrogance, and resentment.
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The forgotten lesson
WHEN nations turn to external powers to solve internal crises, they risk losing their moral compass and cultural sovereignty. The US does not build liberation movements — it builds dependencies. And the cost of those dependencies is paid in the erosion of progressive thought, women’s rights, education, and artistic freedom — the very foundations of the societies that once dreamed of independence.
Today, as new generations rise in the Middle East and South Asia — from Tehran to Kabul, Dhaka to Baghdad — the lesson must be remembered: the path to renewal will not come from imported wars or ideologies. Liberation cannot be subcontracted. It must be born from within — through knowledge, justice, and the courage to imagine a world beyond both imperialism and fanaticism.
We must not flee one form of dependency only to embrace another. Escaping India’s shadow does not mean falling under America’s. True independence means vigilance — guarding our land, our waters, and the fragile harmony of our people from all forms of external manipulation.
Bangladesh’s strength has always been its moral and cultural sovereignty — not the protection of foreign powers, but the wisdom of its own people. Let us not surrender that now, not for promises of aid, not for exercises of peace that echo with the language of war.
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Anusheh Anadil is a singer and social activist.