India and Russia held their 23rd Annual Summit in New Delhi on 4–5 December 2025, marking a quarter century of their Strategic Partnership (2000–2025). The visit reaffirmed the depth and durability of their Special and Privileged Strategic Partnership, highlighting continuity, mutual confidence, and sustained strategic alignment at a time of profound global uncertainty. Both sides reiterated that, as major powers with enduring civilisational weight and geopolitical responsibilities, India and Russia would continue to work toward global peace and stability within an emerging multipolar world and an increasingly multipolar Asia.
History seldom unfolds in linear trajectories. Rather, it progresses in spirals—at times tightening, at times loosening—shaped by the interplay of power, principle, and timing. Bangladesh today finds itself within such a tightening spiral, suspended between domestic illegitimacy and a rapidly shifting international configuration. At the heart of this moment lies a defining question: will Sheikh Hasina be restored to power through democratic reassertion and converging geopolitical interests, or will Bangladesh continue to drift beneath the shadow of an unelected, externally sustained regime headed by Dr. Muhammad Yunus?
Recent developments have injected fresh urgency into this question. U.S. President Donald Trump’s forthright support for Sheikh Hasina’s restoration—accompanied by his sharp condemnation of Dr. Yunus’s sudden and ignominious exit from power—marks a departure from Washington’s earlier ambiguity. When that position is read alongside Vladimir Putin’s high-profile visit to India, and the unmistakable chill in US–Russia relations, the geopolitical chessboard begins to reveal its deeper logic.
This is not merely about individuals. It is about order versus chaos, legitimacy versus puppetry, and sovereignty versus manufactured consent.
Donald Trump’s support for Sheikh Hasina is neither sentimental nor accidental. It reflects a blunt, transactional reading of power. Hasina represents continuity, predictability, and a proven record of state authority in a region that Washington increasingly views through the lens of counterterrorism and Indo-Pacific stability. Dr. Yunus, by contrast, represents volatility—an unelected figure whose ascent followed foreign intelligent engineering rather than public mandate.
Trump’s condemnation of Yunus’s departure from power is telling. It exposes the hollowness of the narrative that Yunus was ever meant to govern Bangladesh as a long-term “reformer.” He was a stopgap—installed, celebrated, and then quietly discarded when the costs of his illegitimacy became too obvious to ignore.
In Trump’s worldview, power is legitimate only insofar as it can impose order and command authority. By that standard, Sheikh Hasina—regardless of the invective hurled by her detractors—fulfilled that mandate with decisiveness and resolve. Dr. Yunus did not. Instead, Yunus ascended to power through a deep-rooted camarilla, in which elements of the American deep state played a pivotal role—manipulating Bangladesh as a geopolitical chessboard under the cover of an illegitimate administration, seeking strategic advantages that Sheikh Hasina had firmly refused to surrender.
Putin’s visit to India, at a time when Russia–US relations are at their worst since the Cold War, is no mere diplomatic ritual. It is a signal. India is asserting strategic autonomy, refusing to be locked into any single bloc. In doing so, New Delhi is recalibrating its regional priorities—including Bangladesh.
If Putin met Sheikh Hasina during or around this visit, the optics alone would be momentous. Russia has long seen Hasina as a stable, secular, anti-extremist leader—one who resisted both jihadist encroachment and Western regime-change experiments. A Putin–Hasina interaction on Indian soil would suggest quiet alignment among Moscow, New Delhi, and forces seeking to restore institutional normalcy in Dhaka.
This triangulation matters. India does not want a destabilised Bangladesh captured by an unholy nexus of Pakistan’s ISI, Jamaati-Shibir networks, and transnational Islamist financing. Russia does not want another playground for Western-sponsored disorder on its southern flank. And increasingly—under Trump—neither does the United States.
Speculation about a possible Indian “surgical strike” in Bangladesh must be handled with sobriety. India is unlikely to engage in overt military intervention unless provoked by a clear and imminent security threat—such as large-scale insurgent activity, cross-border terrorism, or state collapse. However, a “surgical strike” need not be purely kinetic. Intelligence operations, diplomatic pressure, economic signalling, and covert containment of extremist networks can be just as decisive. India has demonstrated this layered approach elsewhere. If Bangladesh continues sliding under Yunus’s unlawful regime—marked by mob politics, selective justice, and the empowerment of Jamaati-Shibir operatives—the trigger points will multiply.
Restoring Sheikh Hasina, from India’s perspective, is not about personality; it is about restoring a firewall against chaos. If democratic, constitutional pathways are systematically blocked, external actors will explore other means to stabilise their neighbourhood. That reality—not bravado—should preoccupy Dhaka’s current rulers.
For the Awami League, the current moment is paradoxical. Out of power domestically, it is nonetheless regaining legitimacy internationally. The party’s historic role in nation-building, its stance against extremism, and its developmental record are being reassessed in light of what followed its removal: disorder, vendetta justice, and ideological infiltration.
If global and regional powers converge on the judgment that Bangladesh under Yunus is a liability, the Awami League’s future brightens—but decisively. Sheikh Hasina’s political capital lies not only in her past governance, but in the stark comparison her absence has created. History often vindicates leaders not while they rule, but after their removal reveals the cost of their absence.
Under intensifying pressure, Dr. Yunus has limited options—and none are comfortable. He may attempt to rebrand himself as a neutral elder statesman, appealing to Western liberal circles for continued protection. He may accelerate alliances with Islamist and anti-liberation forces to maintain street leverage. Or he may push for a hurried, stage-managed electoral process designed to legitimise an illegitimate order.
All of these paths carry risk. Each further exposes his dependence on forces fundamentally hostile to Bangladesh’s secular foundation. The more Yunus leans on Jamaati-Shibir muscle and ISI-linked networks, the less defensible his position becomes internationally—especially to India, Russia, and other Western countries. The tragedy is that Yunus had a choice. He could have acted as a transitional facilitator of constitutional order. Instead, he allowed himself to become the face of a regime unmoored from law, history, and popular consent.
Bangladesh’s future will be decided not only by slogans or street theatrics. It will also be shaped by whether legitimacy can be restored through constitutional means, or whether external stabilisation becomes inevitable. Sheikh Hasina’s return—whether through political restoration or historic vindication—now appears increasingly tied to a broader geopolitical realignment. If Washington, New Delhi, and Moscow converge on the necessity of stability over experimentation, the days of Yunus’s puppet regime are numbered.
Bangladesh was born in blood, principle, and resistance to imposed authority. Any government that forgets this—no matter how polished its global image—builds on sand. The Awami League understands this truth. History, once again, may soon remind everyone else.
