The global agenda will once again centre on humanity’s greatest existential challenge, climate change in COP30, which began in Belém, Brazil, on November 10. The UN Climate Change Conference, or the Conference of the Parties, is the only forum where nearly every nation on Earth deliberates on how to keep global temperature rise within 1.5°C, adapt to irreversible impacts, and achieve net-zero emissions by 2050.
But while the world debates targets and timelines, Bangladesh stands as a sobering case study, a nation both defined by resilience and undermined by neglect. Once celebrated as a model for adaptation, it now risks becoming a tragic emblem of indifference. For all its vulnerability, the state continues to treat climate change as a sectoral concern rather than a question of national survival.
Bangladesh’s geography is both its blessing and its curse. Crisscrossed by more than 700 rivers and lying at the mouth of the mighty Ganges–Brahmaputra–Meghna delta, the country inhabits one of the most climate-vulnerable zones on the planet. The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change warns that a one-metre rise in sea level could submerge 17 per cent of its land, displacing nearly 30 million people. The World Bank projects that by 2050, 13 million Bangladeshis could become internally displaced, forming one of the largest populations of climate migrants in modern history.
This, however, is not a distant threat; it is a present reality. In Satkhira, Khulna and Bhola, saltwater has poisoned farmlands and groundwater, forcing families to abandon ancestral homes. Women in coastal areas suffer from fertility problems linked to saline-contaminated drinking water. The north reels under prolonged droughts that destroy paddy yields, while flash floods in the east have become both frequent and unpredictable. The climate crisis in Bangladesh is no longer theoretical , it is being lived, day after day, in silence and in struggle.
Repeated warnings from international agencies paint a dire picture. The UN Development Programme and the UN Environment Programme list Bangladesh among the ten most climate-vulnerable nations in the world. The Global Climate Risk Index ranks it seventh in long-term exposure. The UN Office for Disaster Risk Reduction has cautioned that Bangladesh’s early achievements in adaptation are being overtaken by new and accelerating threats; extreme heat, tidal surges, erosion and salinisation among them. The World Bank estimates that heat-related productivity losses alone cost the country $1.8 billion in 2024, or 0.4 per cent of GDP. UNEP’s Emissions Gap Report the same year warned that without integrating mitigation with adaptation, Bangladesh’s economy could shrink by up to 30 per cent by mid-century.
The world’s alarm is clear. What remains unclear, and morally indefensible, is Dhaka’s continued complacency.
Bangladesh’s leadership continues to approach climate change as a development or environmental issue rather than as a fundamental national priority. While the country has produced a series of ambitious plans, the Bangladesh Climate Change Strategy and Action Plan, the Delta Plan 2100 and a National Adaptation Plan, most remain confined to paper. Implementation is fragmented, accountability is absent, and political ownership is weak. Climate responsibilities are scattered across ministries, funding is chronically insufficient, and coordination is almost non-existent. Less than one per cent of gross domestic product is spent on adaptation each year, far short of what is needed, while billions continue to be invested in coal and LNG projects that deepen the crisis they claim to address.
Politics has not helped either. For over a decade, national discourse has been consumed by power struggles, leaving little space for long-term climate strategy. The subject rarely features in electoral debates or parliamentary discussions. The silence speaks volumes. A ‘growth-first’ mindset has produced the cruel illusion of progress, economic expansion built on ecological collapse. Rivers vanish, coastlines retreat, cities choke, yet the national narrative remains fixated on GDP growth.
A decade ago, the world hailed Bangladesh as a pioneer of climate adaptation, its community-based cyclone shelters, early warning systems and microfinance for disaster recovery were celebrated as global models. Today, that reputation has dimmed. The Bangladesh Climate Change Trust Fund, once praised for its innovation, has been marred by allegations of mismanagement and political favouritism. The Delta Plan 2100, designed as a century-long safeguard for the delta, has become trapped in bureaucratic inertia, while local adaptation efforts, often led by NGOs and communities, remain disconnected from national planning. The gap between strategy and reality widens with each passing year.
The deeper truth is that climate change in Bangladesh is no longer an environmental concern, it has become a national security crisis. Unchecked, it threatens to erode every foundation of national life. Shrinking farmland jeopardises the livelihoods of millions who depend on agriculture. Internal migration from flooded and drought-hit regions is already overwhelming urban centres such as Dhaka, intensifying unemployment, housing shortages and social tensions. Rising temperatures and polluted water sources are fuelling new public health emergencies. Resource scarcity, of water, land and food, risks inflaming local conflicts and undermining stability. Even the Bangladesh Armed Forces now recognise climate change as a ‘threat multiplier’. Yet civilian leadership remains slow to respond with the urgency the crisis demands.
At COP30, Bangladesh cannot afford to arrive as a passive victim seeking sympathy. It must come as a nation demanding justice, clarity and accountability, both from itself and from the international community. Climate resilience must move from the margins to the centre of economic policy. Every national budget and investment decision must pass through a climate lens. Subsidies that sustain fossil fuels need to be redirected towards renewable energy, resilient agriculture and green infrastructure. Transparency, too, must be restored. A national resilience fund, managed jointly with civil society and international partners, could ensure that resources reach those who need them most.
Beyond government, society itself must be mobilised. Real resilience will be built not in ministries but in communities, by young people, local innovators, and citizens determined to reclaim their future. Environmental education should be mandatory across schools and universities to foster generational awareness. The media, too, has a duty to shift from episodic disaster coverage to sustained scrutiny of climate governance.
Bangladesh’s tragedy lies not in its geography but in its governance. The land may be destined to floods and cyclones, but the greater storm is that of indifference. As the United Nations continues to sound its alarms, Dhaka’s silence grows harder to justify. The nation that once inspired the world with its courage and creativity now risks becoming a warning to others of what happens when politics eclipses survival.
The climate crisis is rewriting Bangladesh’s story in real time, its rivers receding, its coasts retreating, its people displaced. The question is no longer whether the world will act, but whether Bangladesh will act for itself. As the delegates gather in Belém, the world will talk of promises. Bangladesh must speak of survival. For this nation of rivers and resilience, inaction is no longer apathy, it is a slow, collective surrender.
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Emran Emon is a journalist and writer.