The world today feels more fragile than ever. Everywhere we look, there’s the thud of war drums and the hum of missiles in the air. Nations armed with terrifying firepower— especially nuclear weapons— seem locked in a dangerous game of muscle-flexing and brinkmanship. And while we Bangladeshis like to think of ourselves as a peace-loving people, we can’t ignore the unsettling truth: if conflict breaks out in our neighbourhood, we won’t be insulated from its fallout.
The recent dogfights over Kashmir between India and Pakistan, and the rapidly intensifying confrontation between Iran and Israel, have left many of us uneasy. Ordinary people don’t want war. We never have. But that doesn’t stop a troubling question from surfacing: if these flashpoints had spiraled out of control, would we—Bangladesh, South Asia—have been ready?
Flashpoints of Fire: South Asia and the Middle East at the Brink of War
In 2025, two of the world’s most volatile regions—South Asia and the Middle East—have come dangerously close to full-scale war. What began as escalations in familiar tension zones has now shaken the global order and laid bare just how fragile the promises of diplomacy really are.
In early May, India and Pakistan were once again locked in aerial combat over Kashmir— the fiercest confrontation between the two nuclear neighbours in years. Rafale jets roared through the skies, and missiles rained down on both sides of the border. India claimed it had taken out militant camps, while Pakistan hit back with F-16s, JF-17s, and its newly acquired J-10C fighters. The air was thick with drones, counterstrikes, and uncertainty. Casualty figures remain murky, but the message was loud and clear: the region is still one misstep away from disaster. A ceasefire— hurriedly arranged with help from over 30 countries— has paused the fighting, but it’s a thin bandage on a deep, festering wound.
Then came the fire in the Middle East. On June 13, Israel launched “Operation Rising Lion,” a direct and deadly strike on Tehran. No longer content with shadow wars and proxy battles, Israel took aim at Iran’s military leadership and nuclear infrastructure, destroying centrifuge production facilities in Karaj and at the Tehran Nuclear Research Center— damage confirmed by the IAEA. Iran’s response was swift and sweeping. “Operation True Promise III” saw the launch of hypersonic Fattah missiles and waves of drones that managed to punch through Israeli air defenses and hit both civilian and military targets. Over 1,300 Israelis have been forced into hotels after their homes were destroyed. More than 18,000 have filed damage claims. Daily life in Israel has been turned upside down in ways not seen even during past wars with Hamas or Hezbollah.
And now the political temperature is rising with the missiles. Israel’s defence minister has declared that the Iranian regime is collapsing, comparing Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei to Iraq’s Saddam Hussein. US President Donald Trump, while paying lip service to diplomacy, has demanded Iran’s “unconditional surrender” and warned civilians to flee Tehran. Iranian officials, meanwhile, say the war was launched in the middle of ongoing peace talks and openly accuse the USA of giving Israel a green light. Airspace over Jordan has been violated. The region is on edge. And the world, once again, seems caught off guard.
What’s happening in Kashmir and Tehran isn’t just about borders or ideology—it’s about what happens when diplomacy fails and militarism takes its place. Both crises were decades in the making, fueled by mistrust, broken promises, and a dangerous belief in the logic of force. Now, it’s civilians who are paying the price—farmers in Kashmir, families in Tehran, children in Haifa.
Unless the world acts quickly and decisively, 2025 could go down not as a year of isolated crises— but as the year when two flashpoints lit the fuse to something much bigger.
South Asia on Edge: How Distant Wars Hit Home
When bombs fall in Tehran or jets dog-fight over Kashmir, the shock waves don’t stop at anyone’s border. They rattle shopfronts in Karachi, unsettle traders in Dhaka, and keep every South Asian finance minister awake at night.
Take Bangladesh. Former central-bank chief Salehuddin Ahmed has already sounded the alarm: if the Iran–Israel war drags on, Dhaka’s fuel lifeline from the Gulf could kink overnight. Brent crude has nudged past $74 a barrel since Israel’s June 13 strike, and every extra dollar shows up at village markets a few weeks later— as pricier transport, costlier food, higher inflation.
Fertiliser is the next domino. Most of it sails through the Strait of Hormuz, a waterway Iran can squeeze any time it feels cornered. Block that chokepoint and farmers from Multan to Mymensingh will pay the price— just as they did when the Russia-Ukraine war sent prices through the roof in 2022.
Meanwhile, January’s dog-fight over Kashmir spooked investors across the region. In Dhaka the stock index slid nearly 150 points in a day; Pakistan’s trade corridors felt the tremor too. Our factories and tech parks run on predictable logistics. Miss a week of cross-border shipments and export deadlines slip, buyers grumble, and jobs hang in the balance.
None of this is theory. Insurance premiums on Gulf routes are already inching up, supply-chain managers are drawing new contingency maps, and long-term energy contracts are being red-lined for “force majeure” clauses. A missile in the Gulf now translates into a higher bus fare or a thinner pay packet in South Asia within weeks.
Preparing for the Next Shock
Every country in this neighbourhood talks peace. But peace without a fallback plan is a prayer in a storm.
For Islamabad, “credible minimum deterrence” isn’t sabrerattling— it’s insurance. For Dhaka, the Forces Goal 2030 modernisation drive is less about swagger and more about keeping the skies safe for cargo planes and the seas open for fuel tankers. Resilience, not rivalry, is the point.
And preparedness isn’t only military. We need spare LNG routes, deeper fuel reserves, and supply chains that can hopscotch around a blocked strait. Diplomatic heft matters too: the quickest way to steady markets is often a quiet phone-call that cools tempers before the shooting starts.
The distance between someone else’s war and our own wallets has never been shorter. South Asia will ride out the next storm only if its governments act early, build buffers, and—when possible—work together. History keeps handing us warnings. It’s up to us to turn them into a plan.
