In the ever-tense theatre of South Asian geopolitics, the border between India and Bangladesh is not merely a geographical demarcation— it is a canvas on which power, prejudice, and paranoia are recklessly painted. And in recent weeks, that canvas has turned ominously dark. In a move that defies diplomatic norms, humanitarian decency, and even India’s own legal fabric, New Delhi has begun orchestrating a disturbing wave of push-in operations— forcibly dumping Bengali-speaking Muslims, often indiscriminately and without verification, into Bangladeshi territory. These aren’t simply administrative deportations; they are acts of psychological warfare disguised as immigration enforcement, a crude display of regional muscle-flexing by a country still reeling from its diplomatic impotence over the Kashmir debacle.
When India realized its grandstanding on Kashmir had fallen flat— when its bluster about surgical strikes and ‘integral territory’ failed to deter Pakistan’s aggressive posturing— it turned its gaze elsewhere for a demonstration of dominance. And who better to intimidate than Bangladesh, the soft-spoken, burden-bearing neighbour that had for years tolerated condescension in the name of cooperation? The result is a grotesque theatre at the border: poor men, frightened women, and children in rags, many with Indian documentation in hand, blindfolded and airlifted from states like Rajasthan and Gujarat, only to be dumped like unwanted cargo at the edge of another nation’s sovereignty.
Make no mistake— this is no routine border enforcement. This is not about controlling illegal migration. It is about reminding Bangladesh, once again, about who calls the shots in South Asia. In Delhi’s warped logic, the push-in operations are more than just tactical manoeuvres— they are symbols of psychological pressure, designed to humiliate Dhaka, fracture its internal politics, and send a message to both domestic and international observers that India remains the regional hegemon, even when its northern borders are challenged by China and its western frontier burns with Pakistani defiance.
The facts are both disturbing and absurd. Over 370 individuals have reportedly been pushed into Bangladesh between May 4 and May 15 alone. Some were beaten, others arrived sick and malnourished. Among them were elderly citizens, pregnant women, and even minors— none of whom were afforded due legal process or any semblance of humanity. The Indian Border Security Force (BSF), which is tasked with preventing cross-border crime, has now been repurposed into a deportation squad, escorting people in the dead of night to no-man’s-land and offloading them like sacks of rice. No prior notification is given to Bangladeshi authorities. No documents are exchanged. No verification takes place. It is as if sovereign borders have become little more than a dumping ground for India’s demographic anxieties.
More galling is the fact that many of those expelled appear to be Indian citizens themselves. Bengali-speaking Muslims from states like West Bengal and Assam, some possessing Aadhaar cards, ration cards, voter IDs — have been rounded up, detained, and summarily deported. Entire families have vanished overnight in states like Gujarat and Rajasthan, with relatives later discovering that their kin were ‘deported’ to a country they have never seen, let alone claimed citizenship in. This isn’t immigration policy. This is ethnic profiling under the guise of nationalism. This is Hindutva’s bureaucratic lynching— where the victim is not lynched by mobs in the street, but by paperwork, detention cells, and chartered aircraft.
If Delhi continues to pursue its current path, it may find that the psychological war it has launched will have unintended consequences— not just for bilateral relations, but for India’s own credibility as a democratic power. Bangladesh has learned to rise from the ashes before. And this time, when it rises, it will do so with its head held high and its borders intact.
One detainee, Obaidul Khandaker of Cooch Behar, recounted how he was arrested without charge, despite presenting his Indian ID documents. After ten days of detention and abuse, he was dumped at the Bangladesh border. When he managed to return home, he found his house vandalized and his belongings gone. His story is not isolated. In detention centres across India’s western states, hundreds of Bengali-speaking Muslims are in limbo— undocumented only because the state has chosen to erase their documents, stateless only because the state has redrawn the meaning of citizenship.
The Rohingya analogy is no longer far-fetched. India, like Myanmar before it, appears to be pursuing a demographic purification campaign by exporting its internal insecurities into neighbouring lands. At least five Rohingya refugees, registered under UNHCR protection in India, were among those recently expelled into Bangladesh. Some had their eyes covered during transit. Others were handed to local smugglers who were paid to escort them through forest routes. What does it say about the world’s largest democracy when it mimics the tactics of military juntas? What does it say about its moral compass when refugee protection becomes a diplomatic liability rather than a humanitarian responsibility?
And all of this unfolds as India’s Foreign Ministry chooses silence. There has been no official confirmation, no explanation, and certainly no apology. The deportation of unverified individuals across an international border, without consultation, violates multiple international conventions— including the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, and basic norms of sovereign respect. Yet New Delhi proceeds with impunity, aided by a world too distracted to care and a neighbourhood too exhausted to protest.
This isn’t the first time Bangladesh has been treated like a subordinate. From water-sharing disputes to trade barriers, from the border killings of unarmed civilians to the unilateral cancellation of joint river management projects— India’s track record of regional engagement has long been driven more by arrogance than amity. What’s different this time is the brazenness. Now, India no longer pretends. There is no veil of dialogue, no façade of cooperation. Only cold, calculated coercion.
For Bangladesh, the path forward cannot be one of diplomatic docility. The time has come to raise this issue not just bilaterally, but globally. Dhaka must take the matter to the United Nations, the International Court of Justice if needed, and to every human rights forum willing to listen. Every pushed-in individual should be documented, their testimonies recorded, their suffering archived— so that one day, when the world’s conscience wakes up, the evidence of India’s shame is already prepared. The government must summon the Indian High Commissioner and demand an immediate halt to these illegal operations. Soft protest notes and quiet diplomacy are no longer sufficient when sovereignty is being physically violated.
Domestically, the Border Guard Bangladesh (BGB) must be empowered to push back against this forced influx. Humanitarian support must be provided to those already affected— but without conceding to India’s narrative. National identity is not determined by language alone, and Bangladesh must not be manipulated into absorbing the detritus of India’s communal anxieties.
India must re-learn the basics of diplomacy. True power is exercised through restraint, not recklessness. It is cultivated through cooperation, not coercion. What India is displaying now is not strength but insecurity— the insecurity of a regime that has lost face in Kashmir, lost leverage in Nepal, lost influence in Sri Lanka, and is now trying to salvage supremacy by bullying its smallest neighbour.
It would be a grave miscalculation. Bangladesh is no longer a war-torn refugee zone grateful for India’s intervention. It is an emerging middle-income nation, a geopolitical bridge between South and Southeast Asia, and a nation that has proven, time and again, that it can stand on its own. To treat such a country with contempt is not just shortsighted— it is strategically suicidal.
If Delhi continues to pursue its current path, it may find that the psychological war it has launched will have unintended consequences— not just for bilateral relations, but for India’s own credibility as a democratic power. Bangladesh has learned to rise from the ashes before. And this time, when it rises, it will do so with its head held high and its borders intact.
