So why would sections of the Western world want Jamaat? What does the Yunus-led interim administration gain from this? What role is it playing?

A recent report in The Washington Post cited a US diplomat working in Bangladesh, claiming Washington wants to build “friendly relations” with Jamaat-e-Islami. The diplomat reportedly made the remarks in a closed-door discussion with a group of Bangladeshi women journalists on 1 December. The newspaper’s report, we are told, was built around an audio recording of that conversation.

In that recording, the diplomat expressed optimism that Jamaat would perform far better in the 12 February election than it has in the past. He even suggested the journalists invite representatives of Jamaat’s student wing to their programmes and events.

When the journalists raised a fear that Jamaat, if empowered, could enforce Sharia law, the diplomat’s response was striking: he said he did not believe Jamaat would implement Sharia. And even if it did, he added, Washington could respond with measures such as tariffs. He was also heard arguing that Jamaat includes many university graduates in leadership and would not take such a decision.

The Washington Post further quoted multiple political analysts suggesting Jamaat could achieve its best result in history in the 12 February vote and might even end up in power.

So, is this report simply the product of an “audio leak” published just 20 days before the interim government’s election? I don’t think so.

First, it stretches belief that Bangladeshi journalists would secretly record a closed conversation with a US diplomat and then pass it to The Washington Post.

Second, The Washington Post would almost certainly have cross-checked the audio with the diplomat concerned. If the diplomat had objected, it is hard to imagine the paper moving ahead in this way. My conclusion is blunt: this was published with the diplomat’s planning, or at least with the US embassy’s consent.

Call it what it is: a soft signal. A carefully calibrated message designed to project reassurance about Jamaat and to normalise the idea of Jamaat as a legitimate future governing force.

And then came the echo.

At the same time, two other international outlets, Reuters and Al Jazeera, also published reports about Jamaat-e-Islami. Both pointed towards the possibility of a strong Jamaat showing in the 12 February election. Al Jazeera’s tone, heavy with praise, makes it difficult not to suspect paid campaigning. More tellingly, an Al Jazeera poll recently put Jamaat’s public support at 33.6%, compared with 34.7% for the BNP.

The goal is obvious: to “naturalise” Jamaat’s pathway to power. To make what should shock the public feel ordinary. To convert the unthinkable into the plausible, and the plausible into the inevitable.

Which brings us to the unavoidable question: can Jamaat really win?

History says no. The highest share of the vote Jamaat ever secured in a normal election was in 1991: 12.13%. In the next three elections, Jamaat’s vote share fell to 8.68%, 4.28%, and 4.7%. In a genuinely competitive election, Jamaat is not a double-digit party.

But Bangladesh is not heading into a normal election. An unelected, illegitimate interim administration is preparing a managed vote while keeping the country’s largest political party, the Awami League, effectively outside the electoral process.

In that distorted arena, behind-the-scenes engineering is underway to seat Jamaat on the throne. The diplomat’s “leak”, the favourable international coverage, and the publication of flattering polls are not isolated incidents. They are the components of a single operation.

If anyone doubts the direction of travel, they should remember what happened after 5 August. In his first public remarks after that date, the army chief repeatedly addressed Jamaat’s leader with reverential language, calling him “Ameer-e-Jamaat”. From that moment onwards, Jamaat has exerted an outsized, near-monopolistic influence over Bangladesh’s political field.

Yes, Khaleda Zia’s illness, Tarique Rahman’s possible return, and even the prospect of Khaleda Zia’s death have periodically given the BNP a breeze at its back. But the reel and string of the political kite are now held elsewhere. Jamaat controls the tempo.

And it did not happen in a vacuum. The Awami League has been driven off the streets through mob violence, persecution, repression and judicial harassment. With its principal rival forced away from political life, Jamaat has been able to present itself not merely as a participant, but as an authority.

Now look at the state itself.

Every major organ of power, it is argued, is being brought under Jamaat’s influence. Within the military, “Islamisation” is being used as a cover for Jamaatisation. Fifteen decorated army officers are reportedly jailed on allegations connected to the disappearance of Abdullah Hil Azmi, the son of Ghulam Azam, widely regarded as a leading figure among the razakars. Yet it remains unclear whether Azmi was even abducted at all.

The judiciary, too, is described as falling almost entirely under Jamaat’s control. Key administrative positions, especially DCs, SPs, UNOs and OCs, are increasingly occupied by Jamaat-aligned officials.

On campuses, the story repeats itself. Through engineered student union elections, Jamaat’s student organisation, Islami Chhatra Shibir, has established dominance in Dhaka University and other leading public universities. Even vice-chancellor appointments are described as being shaped by Jamaat-friendly influence.

And while this internal consolidation accelerates, external courtship intensifies.

Since August 2024, Jamaat leaders have reportedly held at least four meetings in Washington with US authorities. Their close contact with the US embassy in Bangladesh continues. Meanwhile, the British High Commissioner has held multiple meetings with Jamaat’s ameer, widely reported in the media. Jamaat’s ameer has also visited the United Kingdom recently.

In short, Jamaat has reached a level of favourable conditions never seen since its founding. Not even in Pakistan, the birthplace of its ideological ecosystem.

So why would sections of the Western world want Jamaat? What does the Yunus-led interim administration gain from this? What role is it playing?

The answer offered here is uncompromising: the current interim government has signed multiple agreements with Western powers, particularly the United States, including an NDA arrangement and various trade deals that are described as being against public interest. Some may be public. Much remains opaque. The government wants these agreements protected. It also wants long-term leverage over Bangladesh’s politics and territory.

From a broader geopolitical perspective, Bangladesh’s land matters. It sits at a strategic crossroads. For those intent on consolidating dominance in the Asia-Pacific and simultaneously containing the influence of both China and India, Bangladesh is useful. This is part of a long game.

And if Jamaat, with weak popular legitimacy, can be installed in power, external agendas become easier to execute. The argument is stark: Jamaat, as a party of war criminals and anti-liberation forces, has no natural sense of accountability to Bangladesh’s soil or its people. In exchange for power, it would hand foreign actors a blank cheque.

Now to Dr Yunus.

The claim here is that since taking power, Yunus has already fulfilled his personal ambitions. He has rewarded loyalists with state titles and positions, creating opportunities for them to accumulate money. He has satisfied the demands of the “deep state” that installed him. In doing so, the country’s interests have been sacrificed at every step.

And throughout, Jamaat has offered Yunus unconditional support.

After the election, Yunus’s priority will be survival: a safe exit for himself and his circle. That is tied to securing the future of the student leaders who claim to have been the principal stakeholders of July. In this narrative, Jamaat is stepping in again. The NCP has already aligned with Jamaat. To maintain international lobbying strength, Jamaat will ensure Yunus’s safe exit. It may even install him in the presidency if that serves the arrangement.

So what will the BNP do?

The answer given is grim: very little. Blinded by the hunger for power, the BNP has nodded along as Yunus and his circle pushed forward actions described as hostile to the national interest. Mirza Fakhrul has publicly claimed to see Zia within Yunus. Tarique Rahman has repeatedly been seen praising Yunus. All of it, the argument goes, for a single purpose: to reach power.

But the BNP, it is suggested, failed to understand the real game. At the grassroots, many of its leaders and activists have become disconnected from the public through extortion, land-grabbing and violent intimidation. Even when visible irregularities occurred in student union elections at universities, the BNP’s student wing, Chhatra Dal, either did not protest or could not.

If Jamaat takes power through a staged election on 12 February, the BNP will have no meaningful recourse left.

And the country?

The conclusion is bleak: Bangladeshis should not expect their suffering to end any time soon. Just as a meticulously designed operation removed an elected Awami League government, another meticulous design is now being finalised to seat Jamaat-e-Islami, a party branded by the author as one of war criminals, with the backing of foreign powers.

Yunus’s anti-national agreements, it is argued, will be implemented through Jamaat’s hands. Independence, sovereignty and the constitution will be thrown into the dustbin. Secularism, women’s freedom, and minority rights will be locked away in cold storage. The destination is spelled out without ambiguity:

Bangladesh will become the Islamic Republic of Bangladesh.

Disclaimer: Views expressed by writers in this section are their own and do not reflect Milli Chronicle’s point-of-view.

If foreign powers are allowed to rebuild and manage our logistics, the flames will have accomplished what no weapon could: the silent colonisation of our economic will.

A raging inferno has seared through the very heart of Bangladesh. The catastrophic fire that engulfed the cargo complex of Hazrat Shahjalal International Airport (HSIA) on 18 October 2025 was far more than an accident—it was a Brobdingnagian assault upon the nation’s soul, a fiery wound gouged deep into the flesh of our sovereignty.

Beneath the veil of smoke and confusion, one may discern the dark outline of a deliberate design—a sinister attempt to weaken the arteries of our economy and to corrode the foundations of our independence.

The Day the Gateway Burned

On that ill-fated afternoon, flames erupted near Gate 8 of the HSIA import-cargo village, spreading with terrifying speed through interconnected warehouses. Within hours, vast stocks of imported materials, export-ready apparel, and vital product samples—the lifeblood of Bangladesh’s garment industry—were consumed by the blaze.

It raged through the night, resisted containment for more than twenty hours, and by dawn left behind a charred wasteland of twisted steel, blackened concrete, and the acrid stench of ruin.

The cargo complex handles more than 600 metric tons of dry freight daily, its activity nearly doubling during the October–December export season. The timing of the disaster could not have been more devastating.

As the Bangladesh Garment Manufacturers and Exporters Association (BGMEA) lamented, thousands of sample consignments—“the very foundation of buyer confidence”—were destroyed. This may lead to cancelled contracts, delayed payments, and a grave erosion of trust in a US$47-billion sector that sustains nearly four million workers.

But the losses transcend mere commerce. Economists fear that indirect costs may exceed US$1 billion in disrupted logistics, missed export deadlines, diverted air routes, and fractured supply chains. The world’s second-largest garment exporter after China now faces not only an economic blow but a spiritual one—the shattering of national confidence.

This was no mere industrial mishap. It was an assault upon the republic’s lifeblood.

The Shadow of Design

To the casual observer, the HSIA blaze may appear accidental. Yet, when history and coincidence intertwine too neatly, vigilance must replace naivety. Within the same week, multiple industrial fires erupted across key export hubs of Bangladesh. Are we to believe these are unrelated? Or do these synchronized calamities bear the fingerprints of a coordinated effort to cripple Bangladesh’s trade network?

For decades, our land has been coveted as a strategic jewel in South Asia—where the tectonic plates of global power grind ceaselessly. Between China’s Belt and Road ambitions and America’s Indo-Pacific containment strategy, Bangladesh’s ports, islands, and transport corridors have become pieces on a grand geopolitical chessboard.

From Chittagong’s deep-sea port and the prospective Sonadia project, to Saint Martin Island and the expanding rail links toward Cox’s Bazar—our geography has become both our blessing and our curse.

In this context, the fire at HSIA—Bangladesh’s central cargo hub—cannot be dismissed as coincidence. This facility is the beating artery of our export economy. When it falters, foreign logistics operators, investors, and intelligence-linked agencies gain openings to insinuate themselves into our infrastructure.

What begins as “disaster relief” often ends as quiet domination. Thus, a charred cargo village could become the Trojan horse for external control over our most vital economic organ.

Consider the invisible strategies of hybrid warfare—where guns are replaced by financial instruments, and sabotage masquerades as accident. A sudden fire, an offer of “assistance,” a foreign management proposal—and gradually a nation’s sovereignty erodes, not with explosions, but with contracts and consultancy.

This inferno, in that light, is not merely an act of destruction—it is a geopolitical stratagem, a modern act of subversion cloaked in smoke.

Freedom Under Fire

Nelson Mandela once observed, “For to be free is not merely to cast off one’s chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others.”

In the glowing embers of the HSIA cargo village lie the singed dreams of millions—the women of Gazipur, Narayanganj, and Savar, whose hands stitch hope into fabric. Their labour has built Bangladesh’s global reputation, yet it is their livelihoods now trembling in uncertainty.

The airport’s cargo complex is not an isolated structure; it symbolizes our national agency. To cripple it is to diminish Bangladesh’s autonomy. When a nation’s logistical heart is scorched, foreign corporations step forward as saviours, offering “expertise” that conceals exploitation. When our economic pulse weakens, our political will begins to wane.

If we permit foreign interests—whether American, Pakistani, Chinese, or others—to tighten their hold on this facility under the pretext of reconstruction, we risk becoming a client state cloaked in the illusion of partnership. That is not the freedom for which our martyrs bled in 1971. Their sacrifice was for self-reliance, not subservience.

The Imperative for Vigilance

The HSIA tragedy must become a catalyst for awakening, not apathy. Three urgent imperatives must guide our response:

1. An Independent Investigation: A transparent and nationally led forensic inquiry is essential. The eerie recurrence of industrial fires cannot be brushed aside as coincidence. We must determine whether negligence, corruption, or deliberate sabotage lies beneath the ash. Silence will not preserve sovereignty—it will annihilate it.

2. Reconstruction Under National Control: The rebuilding of the cargo complex must remain under complete Bangladeshi ownership. The temptation to invite multinational logistics giants to “modernise” or “manage” the facility will be immense. Yet that very path leads to dependency. Bangladesh must rebuild from within—by its engineers, its workers, its spirit.

3. Strategic Audit of National Assets: A comprehensive audit of all ports, airports, islands, and rail corridors must be undertaken to ensure that no covert agreements have compromised our autonomy. Strategic sovereignty must be treated as sacred, for once ceded, it cannot easily be reclaimed.

Jean-Paul Sartre wrote, “When the rich wage war, it is the poor who die.”

Today, when the rich wage invisible wars—through finance, influence, and information—it is again the poor who suffer most. They lose jobs, wages, and dignity, while unseen actors reshape the fate of nations.

The Soul We Must Salvage

Bangladesh’s soul does not reside in parliaments or policy papers. It beats in the rhythmic hum of the sewing machine, in the resilience of factory workers, and in the cargo shipments that carry their labour across seas. When those shipments burn, the nation’s very spirit burns with them.

The inferno at HSIA is not merely a fire—it is a metaphor for a greater siege upon our autonomy. If foreign powers are allowed to rebuild and manage our logistics, the flames will have accomplished what no weapon could: the silent colonisation of our economic will.

Rachel Carson once warned, “The human race is challenged more than ever before to demonstrate our mastery—not over nature, but of ourselves.”

So too must Bangladesh master its response—to rise not as a supplicant nation, but as a sovereign one.

Concluding Points: Reclaiming the Flame of Freedom

Let the inferno at Hazrat Shahjalal International Airport be remembered not as an accident, but as an alarm. It reminds us that Bangladesh’s sovereignty—won at the cost of rivers of blood in 1971—remains fragile and must be defended anew against the invisible colonisers of the 21st century.

The time to act is now.
The time to reclaim our soul is now.
The time to resist the flames of geo-economic subjugation is now.

Let the smoke rising from HSIA not mark our despair—but our awakening.

Disclaimer: Views expressed by writers in this section are their own and do not reflect Milli Chronicle’s point-of-view.