Why Bangladesh Is Geopolitically Indispensable in South Asia and Matters to the World’s Great Powers

 

In the ever-evolving chessboard of South Asia, Bangladesh occupies a deceptively modest square—small in territory, yet vast in consequence. Bordered by India on three sides, facing Myanmar to the southeast, and opening southward into the Bay of Bengal, Bangladesh sits at one of the most strategic intersections in the world. This geography—a deltaic corridor between South and Southeast Asia—has made Bangladesh one of the most consequential geopolitical crossroads in the 21st century. Every major power—the United States, China, India, Japan, and the European Union—now recognizes that stability, trade, and influence in the Indo-Pacific are impossible without Dhaka’s cooperation. 

The first rule of geopolitics is immutable: geography shapes strategy. Bangladesh lies at the hinge where South Asia meets the ASEAN arc. To its west is India’s vulnerable northeastern corridor—the narrow Siliguri “chicken’s neck” that connects the subcontinent to its far eastern states. To its east lies Myanmar and the gateway to China’s Yunnan province. To its south opens the Bay of Bengal, a maritime artery that links the energy routes of the Middle East to the manufacturing centers of East Asia.

For centuries, this geography made Bengal the prize of empires. The Mughals turned it into the richest province of their empire; the British made it the launchpad of their conquest of India. When the subcontinent was partitioned in 1947, East Bengal (later East Pakistan) became a geopolitical anomaly—separated by a thousand miles of Indian territory from West Pakistan. That unnatural design ensured that when Bangladesh fought for independence in 1971, it wasn’t just a domestic revolt; it was a regional reordering. The liberation of Bangladesh redrew South Asia’s strategic map.

Today, that same geography places Bangladesh at the heart of the Indo-Pacific’s most dynamic and contested spaces—the Bay of Bengal, where the interests of the United States, China, India, Japan, and ASEAN converge. For much of the Cold War, the Bay of Bengal was a forgotten sea. But in the new century, it has re-emerged as a focal point of global strategy. Why--because whoever dominates this bay commands the maritime bridge between the Indian Ocean and the Pacific.

The United States sees it as part of its Indo-Pacific strategy—an essential corridor for ensuring open sea lanes and counterbalancing China’s maritime expansion. China, meanwhile, views it as a southern gateway to the Indian Ocean, vital for diversifying its trade and energy routes away from the Malacca Strait. This is why Beijing has invested heavily in Bangladesh’s ports—at Chattogram and Payra—as part of its Belt and Road Initiative (BRI).

India, once hesitant, now recognizes that its own security depends on a stable and cooperative Bangladesh. New Delhi’s “Neighbourhood First” and “Act East” policies hinge on connectivity through Bangladeshi territory to India’s northeast and onward to Southeast Asia. Japan and South Korea are also entering this arena—not for military dominance, but for industrial corridors and infrastructure diplomacy. Thus, Bangladesh stands at the center of a multi-polar maritime chessboard—where every major power wants access, partnership, or presence.

To grasp the stakes of today, recall the precedent of 1971. Bangladesh’s independence was not merely the result of a liberation struggle—it was a moment when Cold War rivalries converged in South Asia. The United States backed Pakistan due to its alignment against Soviet influence. The Soviet Union, through a defense pact with India, supported the liberation forces. China, constrained but sympathetic to Islamabad, watched cautiously. The result: the Bay of Bengal became, for a brief moment, one of the world’s most militarized zones. The US sent the Seventh Fleet into the Bay; the Soviet Navy responded. A superpower standoff unfolded on Bangladesh’s shores.

Today, history rhymes. Once again, the Bay of Bengal is filling with fleets—not Soviet and American this time, but Chinese, Indian, Japanese, and U.S. naval exercises, each citing freedom of navigation or regional security. The lesson is timeless: the geography that once drew empires to Bengal now draws great powers to Bangladesh’s waters.

Beyond location, Bangladesh matters because of scale. With over 175 million citizens, it is the world’s eighth-most populous nation. Its GDP growth over the last two decades averaged more than 6 percent, making it one of the fastest-growing economies in Asia. It is a manufacturing hub for global apparel, a key participant in the blue economy, and a future node for digital infrastructure. But geo-economics and geopolitics intersect. The same ports that export garments can host naval vessels. The same industrial corridors that attract investment can shift supply chains away from China. The same digital networks that enable commerce can become arenas for cyber influence.

China sees Bangladesh as part of its “string of pearls” strategy to secure maritime footholds; the US and its allies view Dhaka as essential to an open, rules-based Indo-Pacific. The European Union and Japan, meanwhile, see a stable Bangladesh as vital to resilient supply chains in a post-pandemic world. Thus, every dollar of investment has strategic subtext; every port has geopolitical consequence.

Geopolitical importance is not only measured in steel and trade; it is also defined by moral capital. Bangladesh possesses a form of soft strategic power that few acknowledge—humanitarian credibility. In 2017, when nearly a million Rohingya refugees fled ethnic persecution in Myanmar, Bangladesh opened its borders, sheltering them despite immense domestic strain. That single decision transformed the country into a humanitarian pivot. The UN, the EU, the OIC, and Western donors all now coordinate through Dhaka—giving Bangladesh leverage as both a moral actor and a logistical hub for regional crisis management.

Another dimension of moral power is climate vulnerability. Bangladesh is ground zero for the world’s climate crisis—facing rising seas, salinity intrusion, and intensified cyclones. Yet it has also become a global model of resilience. From community-based adaptation to renewable initiatives, Bangladesh’s experience offers lessons to both the developing and developed worlds. In diplomacy, this can be wielded as influence: a nation that suffers yet innovates gains moral authority to demand global climate finance and equitable energy transitions. The world listens because Bangladesh lives the consequences of others’ emissions.

Bangladesh’s geopolitical dilemma is structural: how to thrive between two giants—India and China—without becoming a satellite of either. India provides connectivity, water sharing, and cultural closeness. China offers infrastructure, trade, and military supplies. The United States and its Indo-Pacific allies add another layer of partnership—technology, defense training, and democracy assistance.

The real test for Dhaka is strategic balance. History teaches that overdependence on one camp invites vulnerability. The art of Bangladeshi diplomacy, therefore, must be equilibrium: engage all, align with none, and extract value from each. This principle is not neutrality born of weakness; it is strategic autonomy born of prudence. Finland practiced it during the Cold War; Singapore perfects it today. Bangladesh, too, can make this its doctrine—an independent voice that cooperates widely but commits selectively.

The Bay of Bengal has become the new frontier of global strategy. To see why Bangladesh’s choices matter, look at the pattern of recent developments:
•    The US is deepening security coordination with India, Japan, and Australia under the Quad, with an eye toward China’s influence in the Bay of Bengal.
•    China continues to expand Belt and Road investments, particularly in ports and coastal infrastructure from Myanmar to Sri Lanka.
•    India is investing in its Andaman and Nicobar command to project power eastward.
•    Japan, through its “Free and Open Indo-Pacific” policy, has financed mega-projects like the Matarbari deep-sea port and the Dhaka–Chattogram industrial corridor.

In the midst of these converging vectors sits Bangladesh. If the Bay of Bengal becomes the new arena of strategic competition, Dhaka’s cooperation—or resistance—will determine balance. Unlike smaller island states, Bangladesh’s scale gives it bargaining power. It can anchor supply chains, control access routes, and act as a convener between South and Southeast Asia. But to do so, it must move from being the object of geopolitics to being a subject—a rule-maker, not a rule-taker.

Geopolitical strength begins at home. No amount of foreign attention can substitute for domestic cohesion. For Bangladesh, that means three imperatives: governance, resilience, and innovation.
Governance: Strategic influence requires credibility. Transparent institutions, rule of law, and stable transitions of power are the bedrock of diplomatic respect.

Resilience: Climate adaptation, energy diversification, and disaster preparedness aren’t only humanitarian goals; they are national security imperatives.
Innovation: The digital and creative economy can redefine Bangladesh’s brand from “low-cost labor hub” to “emerging knowledge economy.” 
A confident, democratic, and inclusive Bangladesh will command more respect in Washington, Beijing, or New Delhi than any amount of military hardware could secure.

Bangladesh’s story can follow two trajectories. In the first, it remains a passive transit zone—a land and sea corridor exploited by others’ ambitions. In the second, it becomes a proactive bridge—connecting regions, mediating crises, and shaping the norms of the Bay of Bengal. The tools exist:

•    Maritime diplomacy that protects sovereignty while promoting cooperation.
•    Blue economy innovation that turns coastal zones into hubs for renewable energy and sustainable fisheries.
•    Regional convening power that hosts South–Southeast Asian dialogues on migration, disaster management, and climate finance.
This is how Bangladesh moves from the margins of maps to the center of strategies.
In an era of fragmented multilateralism, Bangladesh can embody a rare quality—constructive non-alignment. Not the Cold War version of passive distance, but a modern version of active pragmatism. It can cooperate with all, confront none, and command respect through performance.

The world’s powerful countries already understand Bangladesh’s value:
•    For the United States and Europe, it is a partner in supply chain resilience and Indo-Pacific stability.
•    For China, it is a maritime access point and an industrial partner.
•    For India, it is a linchpin of regional security and connectivity.
•    For Japan, it is the frontier of infrastructure diplomacy.
•    For the Global South, it is a symbol of postcolonial resilience and developmental success. 

The question is not whether Bangladesh matters, but how Bangladesh will choose to matter.

Bangladesh’s history is one of transformation—from colony to crucible of liberation, from poverty to progress. Its geography, once a cause of vulnerability, is now its greatest asset. Surrounded by giants, lapped by strategic seas, and powered by a dynamic population, Bangladesh stands as the ‘geopolitical hinge’ of South Asia. But power without purpose is peril. If Bangladesh wishes to be more than a pawn in the Indo-Pacific game, it must root its foreign policy in principle, not pressure; in balance, not bias; in foresight, not fear.

The next decades will not be defined by superpower might alone, but by the agility of nations that can bridge worlds. Bangladesh—born from struggle, built on resilience, and positioned at the world’s crossroads—is one of those nations. In an age where the Indo-Pacific defines the future of power, Bangladesh’s choices will define the future of balance. Geography has given it significance; history has given it identity; and the 21st century now offers it agency. Whether Dhaka uses that agency to become a bridge of cooperation or a pawn of competition will determine not only its fate—but the fate of South Asia itself.


Emran Emon is a journalist,
columnist and a global 
affairs analyst.