In June 2017, Indian and Chinese troops squared off on the desolate, windswept Doklam plateau in Bhutan, igniting a tense standoff that would last 73 days.

The trigger was a Chinese road construction project that threatened India’s strategic vulnerability–the Siliguri Corridor. This narrow stretch of land, wedged between Bangladesh, Bhutan, and Nepal, connects India’s northeastern states to the rest of the country.

It is a lifeline for India’s east, and any disruption here could jeopardize access to vital trade routes and security interests.

Today, India faces a renewed version of this vulnerability, but the threat no longer emanates from China. Instead, it is driven by an unexpected shift in Bangladesh’s foreign policy–a pivot toward Beijing and Islamabad that has upended years of diplomatic rapport between New Delhi and Dhaka.

A strategic rupture, months in the making, has ignited a blaze of mutual suspicion, with India grappling to comprehend how it lost its privileged position in its eastern neighbor’s capital.

The diplomatic fallout has intensified following the ousting of Bangladesh’s autocratic Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina last August, and the ascension of a new leadership in Dhaka.

For India, it seems this shift is nothing short of alarming. Already beset by tensions with Pakistan, the last thing New Delhi wanted was to see its eastern neighbor align itself with both its western and northern rivals.

But rather than reacting to an orchestrated alliance between China and Pakistan, India is facing the consequences of its own diplomatic and strategic blunders. It is not Bangladesh’s newfound relations with Beijing and Islamabad that are at the root of the breakdown; it is India’s recent policy missteps.

For years, India’s approach to Bangladesh has been marred by a series of miscalculations. Most glaring was New Delhi’s unwavering support for Hasina’s authoritarian government, a relationship built not on democratic values but on short-term security interests.

Coupled with the rise of Hindu nationalism under Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s leadership, India’s strategy has alienated the Bangladeshi public, eroding its influence in Dhaka.

As India prioritized domestic politics and narrow security concerns over the goodwill of its neighbors, Bangladesh found itself pushed toward new partnerships.

The backlash from the Indian government’s embrace of Hasina, coupled with an overtly nationalistic rhetoric, made it almost inevitable that Dhaka would look elsewhere for strategic and economic alliances.

Alienation instead of bridging the gap

In India, the media’s response to Bangladesh’s pivot has largely been alarmist, framing the shift as a grand conspiracy orchestrated by China and Pakistan.

This narrative, however, misses the mark. The truth is far simpler and less dramatic: India’s diplomatic debacles in Bangladesh are largely self-inflicted, the product of years of strategic myopia.

Rather than fostering trust, understanding, and long-term engagement with its neighbors, India’s focus on transactional relationships and political expediency has left it with few friends in the region.

The rupture in relations threatens India’s economic interests, its regional security, and its broader standing in South Asia.

Few places exemplify India’s strategic vulnerability more acutely than the Siliguri Corridor. Just 22 kilometers wide at its narrowest point, the corridor connects India’s northeast to the rest of the country.

For New Delhi, the security of this narrow passageway has always been a top priority, as it is the sole route through which trade, goods, and military supplies flow to India’s remote northeastern states, which border both China and Myanmar.

The corridor is a lifeline, and any disruption to it could have catastrophic consequences for India’s strategic posture in the region.

In March, Dr Muhammad Yunus, Bangladesh’s interim leader, took a pointed swipe at India’s vulnerability during a visit to China, reigniting concerns in New Delhi.

Yunus urged China to strengthen its economic presence in Bangladesh, underscoring his country’s pivotal geographical position.

"India’s northeast is completely landlocked, and its access to the ocean is completely controlled by Bangladesh," he said. "The Siliguri Corridor is the only route that connects the northeast with the rest of India, and this connection passes through Bangladesh."

Yunus’ comments were a stark reminder that Bangladesh’s geographical importance cannot be overstated. The country now holds the key to India’s access to its northeast, making it an increasingly critical player in the region.

In the context of growing tensions with China and Pakistan, India’s relationship with Bangladesh has never been more crucial–and yet, New Delhi has failed to manage it effectively.

India needs to realize that its foreign policy must evolve beyond its fixation on narrow security concerns and political gains. If India is to navigate this new reality, it will need to recalibrate its approach–one that focuses on fostering trust, embracing democratic values, and seeking sustainable partnerships.

Only then can New Delhi hope to rebuild the strategic depth it has lost in Bangladesh and restore its standing in the region. Without such a shift, India’s growing isolation in South Asia will continue to pose serious risks to its security and economic interests.

Interpreting the pivot towards China

For Beijing, Bangladesh has long been a strategic asset, even under Sheikh Hasina’s rule. China built a submarine base in the coastal town of Pekua, backed major infrastructure projects, and tightened economic links.

But under Yunus, the relationship has shifted from transactional to transformational. The pace and depth of engagement signal that Bangladesh is not merely a recipient of Chinese support–it is an active architect of its realignment.

The nightmare scenario for New Delhi–an overtly China-aligned Bangladesh, with warming ties to Pakistan–now feels uncomfortably plausible.

This threat isn’t exactly hypothetical. In 2017, India deployed troops into Bhutan to halt a Chinese road-building operation dangerously close to the corridor. Former Indian Army chief Gen. M.M. Naravane writes in his still-unpublished memoir, Four Stars of Destiny, that Indian political leaders were deeply alarmed by any encroachment on the area.

After the 2017 disengagement, China quietly reinforced its position on the Doklam plateau, keeping pressure on India alive. Even during the 2020 Ladakh crisis–1,500 miles away–India continued pressing Bhutan to safeguard the area.

To hear Yunus openly reference the Siliguri Corridor during a high-profile visit to Beijing, on Chinese soil, is more than symbolic–it’s provocative. And it marks a sharp departure from the quiet caution that previously defined Bangladeshi strategic posture.

Dhaka’s recalibration doesn’t end there. Yunus has reportedly invited China to further develop the Mongla port–previously granted operational access to India under Hasina. In a more audacious move, he has extended an invitation to Pakistan to explore building an air base in Lalmonirhat, uncomfortably close to the Siliguri Corridor.

These gestures, while not yet materialized, are clear signals: Bangladesh is willing to test the boundaries of regional influence and reframe its strategic value.

In April, hopes flickered briefly when Yunus and Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi met at a regional summit in Bangkok. For many, it was a chance to pull the bilateral relationship back from the brink.

But instead of rapprochement, the meeting underscored the depth of the rift. Both leaders came armed with grievances: India with concerns over Yunus’s outreach to China and Pakistan; Bangladesh with longstanding frustration over water sharing, trade barriers, and Indian political interference.

The encounter revealed not only a lack of trust, but a growing divergence in how each side views the regional order.

India’s diminishing leverage in Dhaka is of course a strategic liability for them. The momentum is shifting, and unless New Delhi finds a way to re-engage with humility, consistency, and respect for Bangladeshi sovereignty, it risks being boxed out of a region where it once held uncontested sway.

Thorny bilateral issues

When Muhammad Yunus raised the issue of Sheikh Hasina’s extradition during his April meeting with Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi, it was a moment charged with political gravity.

According to a social media post by Yunus’s press secretary, Shafiqul Alam, Modi’s response was “not negative.” Alam went further, claiming the Indian leader remarked on Hasina’s “disrespectful behavior” toward Yunus–a signal, many in Dhaka interpreted, of New Delhi’s shifting posture toward its longtime ally.

India, however, was quick to dismiss the account. Officials rejected Alam’s statement as politically motivated spin and pushed back by spotlighting attacks on Hindu minorities in Bangladesh following Hasina’s fall.

Dhaka, for its part, denied those incidents were widespread, calling them exaggerated and amplified by social media disinformation. This back-and-forth reflects a deeper unraveling: not just of diplomatic ties, but of mutual trust.

For nearly two decades, India’s Bangladesh policy revolved around a single figure: Sheikh Hasina. Her Awami League government was seen in New Delhi as a strategic asset.

To the Indian establishment’s eyes, she clamped down on cross-border insurgents, stabilized India’s northeast, granted key transit access, and even handed out generous commercial contracts to Indian companies–most notably to the politically connected Adani Group.

In return, India backed Hasina with unwavering loyalty, offering political cover, economic support, and international legitimacy.

But this Faustian bargain came at a cost. As Hasina’s rule slid deeper into authoritarianism, India looked the other way. Elections in 2014, 2018, and again in 2024 were marred by widespread allegations of rigging, intimidation, and voter suppression.

Yet New Delhi remained silent, even shielding Hasina from Western criticism. In doing so, it alienated vast swaths of the Bangladeshi public–especially the youth, civil society, and opposition groups–who saw India as complicit in the erosion of democracy.

Anti-India sentiment in Bangladesh didn’t appear overnight. It was stoked by unresolved water-sharing disputes, frequent border killings by Indian forces, and a lopsided trade relationship that many felt favored India disproportionately.

But it was India’s apparent indifference to Bangladesh’s democratic aspirations that caused the deepest rupture.

Compounding this were developments across the border. The rise of Hindu nationalism under Modi and the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) poisoned the atmosphere.

The 2019 Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA), which excluded Muslims from its provisions for fast-tracked Indian citizenship, was widely viewed in Bangladesh as a direct insult.

Indian Home Minister Amit Shah’s dehumanizing rhetoric–describing undocumented migrants as “termites”--was seen not just as inflammatory, but as an attack on the dignity of all Bangladeshis.

Modi’s 2021 visit to Dhaka, meant to commemorate Bangladesh’s 50th independence anniversary, sparked violent protests.

Many Bangladeshis saw it not as a celebration of shared history, but as political opportunism from a leader whose policies marginalized their identity. Since Hasina’s resignation, the BJP has doubled down, frequently citing alleged attacks on Hindus in Bangladesh–often with little evidence or context.

Dhaka, in a rare move, pushed back diplomatically, urging India to ensure the protection of its own Muslim minorities following recent communal violence in West Bengal.

Roots of anti-Indian sentiment

To many in Bangladesh, India no longer appears as the secular, pluralist nation that once stood in solidarity during the 1971 liberation struggle.

Instead, it is seen increasingly as a Hindu-majoritarian state, dismissive of its Muslim neighbors' concerns and out of step with the values it once championed.

India’s crisis in Bangladesh is also not simply about geopolitical realignment or the loss of a reliable partner. It is about reputational erosion–a credibility deficit born of years of strategic arrogance and political miscalculation.

New Delhi misread the room, and now finds itself isolated in a country where it once commanded unparalleled influence.

The geopolitical realignment unfolding in Dhaka has done more than just redraw foreign policy–it has shifted the internal political center of gravity. Nationalist and Islamist forces, long sidelined under the Hasina-India alignment, have found new momentum.

With India no longer seen as an indispensable partner, and with Yunus’s government pursuing a multipolar approach, these groups now see little incentive to accommodate Indian interests—and every reason to deepen ties with other partners.

Indian commentary has been quick to frame this shift as the result of manipulation by China and Pakistan, as if Dhaka were a pawn rather than a sovereign actor. But the reality is more nuanced–and more uncomfortable for New Delhi.

Under Yunus, Bangladesh is executing a textbook hedging strategy: diversifying its diplomatic alliances, securing investment from China, and re-establishing diplomatic channels with Pakistan after a decade of silence.

In April, Bangladesh and Pakistan held their first foreign office consultations since 2010–a symbolic but telling thaw. A follow-up visit by Pakistan’s deputy prime minister was in the works before being postponed due to a terror attack in Kashmir.

The signs of recalibration are hard to ignore for New Delhi. Dhaka has resumed direct flights with Pakistan, eased visa requirements, and initiated tentative military exchanges.

These are not gestures of nostalgia–they are statements of intent. Bangladesh is actively reducing its strategic overdependence on India and asserting an independent foreign policy.

For Pakistan, the opportunity is twofold: regain lost influence in a country it once dominated before 1971, and apply pressure on India’s sensitive eastern flank.

China, unsurprisingly, has moved with precision. It has offered Bangladesh sweeping duty-free access for exports, tech partnerships, and billions in infrastructure funding–all tethered to the Belt and Road Initiative.

Bangladesh is a vital node in China’s regional ambitions–a way to outflank India and secure maritime and logistical influence in the Bay of Bengal.

For Dhaka, China represents more than a financial partner; it offers a diplomatic counterweight, a route to greater autonomy, and a chance to escape India’s foreign policy grip.

India’s response is not doing any good

India, increasingly unsettled by these developments, has responded with a volatile mix of diplomatic pressure, economic signaling, and militarized rhetoric. The Siliguri Corridor remains the flashpoint.

The message from New Delhi is blunt: any challenge to India’s access to the northeast will invite retaliation.

Assam’s Chief Minister Himanta Biswa Sarma recently illustrated this posture with menacing clarity.

“India has one chicken neck and Bangladesh has two chicken necks,” he said, referring to narrow territorial links. “If they think of attacking our chicken neck, we will attack their two necks. Their chicken neck from Meghalaya to Chittagong port is smaller than ours. It’s just one call away.”

The comment, though unofficial, reflects an unmistakable mood in India’s security establishment–one that leans more on coercion than diplomacy.

But threats do not constitute strategy. If anything, such rhetoric reinforces Dhaka’s calculus that regional diversification is not just prudent, but essential.

Bangladesh is no longer operating in India’s shadow–and New Delhi’s failure to recognize this new reality could turn a diplomatic cold front into a lasting freeze.

In India’s strategic circles, the rhetoric has also turned increasingly aggressive. A retired Indian naval officer recently floated the idea that southeastern Bangladesh, particularly the 17-kilometer stretch near Chittagong that opens into the Bay of Bengal, could be militarily severed from the rest of the country.

A former national security advisor to the Modi government went further–suggesting new cartography to “correct” strategic imbalances like the Siliguri Corridor, implying the very redrawing of Bangladesh’s borders. In Dhaka, such talk is not dismissed as bluster–it is heard as a threat to sovereignty.

Economic pressure has followed closely behind the sabre-rattling. New Delhi abruptly suspended a key transshipment facility that had allowed Bangladesh to route its exports through Indian ports, a move widely seen as retaliation for Dhaka’s closer ties with Beijing.

The facility had been crucial in making Bangladesh’s exports, especially garments, more competitive in global markets. Its suspension is already reverberating through the country’s fragile manufacturing sector.India has also further escalated trade restrictions by halting the export of Bangladeshi garments and other specified goods through land ports. Only Kolkata and Mumbai now remain open for entry–subject to rigorous inspection.

The move came after Dhaka restricted Indian yarn exports via land ports, but India's response was far heavier-handed. For Bangladesh’s $45 billion garment industry, already facing global headwinds, these new frictions could prove costly.

India defends these moves under the guise of national security. But they also betray a deeper anxiety–an inability to control the narrative or the trajectory of a once-reliable neighbor.

Instead of confronting uncomfortable truths, Indian media and political figures often point fingers at Pakistan and China, casting Bangladesh’s assertive diplomacy as foreign-orchestrated subversion.

But this deflection ignores the root cause: India’s own strategic missteps.

Any way out from the diplomatic impasse?

By tying its Bangladesh policy almost exclusively to Sheikh Hasina–while turning a blind eye to her authoritarian excesses–India isolated itself from the wider Bangladeshi polity.

By indulging in Islamophobic rhetoric and enacting exclusionary laws like the Citizenship Amendment Act, the Modi government eroded India’s once-proud image as a secular democracy in the eyes of its neighbors.

These choices didn’t just strain relations–they dismantled years of earned goodwill.

And the consequences are not merely symbolic. Bangladesh’s turn away from India undermines vital counterterrorism cooperation, particularly efforts to suppress militancy along the border and in India’s northeast.

It destabilizes an economic relationship that had been a cornerstone of regional connectivity. And it increases the risk of border flare-ups or the reactivation of dormant insurgencies.

To arrest this downward spiral, India must first turn the lens inward. The question is no longer whether geography renders India vulnerable–it is whether its own political decisions have become its greatest strategic liability.

Sovereign neighbors do not respond well to coercion or contempt.

Rebuilding trust will require more than high-level summits or economic incentives. It demands a fundamental reset in how New Delhi engages with Dhaka–and, more importantly, with the Bangladeshi people.

That begins with rejecting the Islamophobic posturing that has increasingly characterized Indian domestic and foreign policy discourse. Hindu majoritarianism may win elections at home, but it forfeits influence abroad.

If India wishes to reclaim its moral authority in the region, it must return to the principles that once defined it: pluralism, democracy, and partnership. Bangladesh has made its choices–not out of hostility, but out of a desire for balance and dignity.

India’s next move will decide whether this is remembered as a temporary estrangement or the beginning of a strategic divorce.

The Modi government’s reliance on punitive diplomacy has repeatedly backfired across South Asia. In Nepal, a border blockade pushed Kathmandu closer to Beijing. In the Maldives, political interference alienated voters and invited Chinese investment.

And now, in Bangladesh, attempts at economic coercion have only hardened Dhaka’s resolve to diversify its alliances. The pattern is unmistakable: threats do not produce loyalty–they provoke resistance.

India’s regional strategy needs a fundamental rethink. Rather than weaponizing trade routes or port access, New Delhi should focus on offering shared prosperity: equitable trade terms, investment partnerships, and infrastructure that binds rather than divides.

The illusion that South Asian neighbors can be managed through leverage or intimidation has run its course. These nations–Bangladesh included–have agency, and they are increasingly willing to use it.

What’s unfolding today goes far beyond the vulnerability of the Siliguri Corridor or shipping lanes in the Bay of Bengal.

This is a test of whether India can evolve to meet the realities of a multipolar South Asia–where smaller states are asserting their sovereignty, shaping their own external engagements, and demanding respect as equals.

If India continues to view its neighbors through a prism of dominance rather than partnership, it risks not just losing influence in Dhaka, but unraveling the broader foundations of its "Neighborhood First" and "Act East" policies.

The lesson, by now, should be clear: strategic depth isn’t secured through autocratic alliances or military posturing. It is earned–patiently–through trust, mutual respect, and the humility to listen.

If India wants a stable, cooperative region, it must stop seeing its neighbors as buffer states and start engaging them as equal stakeholders in a shared future.

Only then can South Asia move from suspicion to solidarity–and ensure that geography becomes a bridge, not a battleground.

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Rezaul Karim Rony is a writer and thinker. He is the editor of Joban magazine