It is increasingly difficult to escape the conclusion that India’s current regional posture is less an expression of genuine confidence than a calculated effort to reclaim already lost prestige—over centuries. Under Narendra Modi, New Delhi seems driven by a sense of grievance rooted in historical humiliation, real or perceived, during the period of Muslim rule in India, when many Muslim rulers married Hindu women, assimilated local cultures, and nonetheless presided over a plural society. Today, that buried history is being weaponized domestically: the narrative of a Hindu majority, supposedly threatened by the past and the present, feeds a political instinct that authority must be reasserted through coercion and displays of strength. This logic, evident in policies and rhetoric, is especially apparent in Modi’s approach toward neighboring countries, particularly Muslim-majority states, where attempts at regional dominance have replaced genuine diplomacy.
Nowhere is the fallout of this hegemonistic ambition more visible than in Bangladesh, a nation whose ties to India have long been complex, shaped by shared history, power imbalances, and deep-seated concerns over sovereignty. Among younger Bangladeshis, India’s influence is increasingly perceived as intrusive rather than collaborative. This perception has been sharpened by years of disputes over water sharing, trade imbalances, and overt political interference, but the killing of student activist Osman Hadi has given it a human face. For many, Hadi’s death represents more than an isolated act of violence; it is seen as the silencing of dissent through networks long rumored to be connected to Indian intelligence interests.
In addition, most of these allegations have already been independently verified and seemingly certain. What matters, politically, is that the perception alone has sparked outrage. Protests outside India’s High Commission in Dhaka, with demonstrators demanding that Indian officials “go home”, reflect a broader rejection of India’s asserted sense of entitlement. Since 1971 war intriguingly designed by the then India’s think-tank through its so-called “Indian Friends” notably Sheikh Mujeeb-ur-Rehman, finally treated by very own Bangladeshi people, especially students. Instead, dignity, autonomy, and the right to chart an independent course have become rallying cries—and Hadi’s death has crystallized those sentiments. Meanwhile, sections of India’s media responded not with sobriety or ethical scrutiny but with celebration, crude jokes, and speculation over “who might be next.”
Such coverage is not mere bad taste; it illustrates the moral decay of a hyper-nationalist media apparatus that amplifies the worst impulses of the state rather than holding it accountable. It is seemingly evident that the Indian or Godi-media has once again attempted to create a war-hysteria what it has done just before the humiliation faced by Pakistan when seven Indian jets including four Rafale were shot down by Pakistani fighter jets within an hour. While television studios had staged theatrical “invasions” of Pakistani cities and urged Indian military action from the comfort of air-conditioned sets—performances that flatter domestic audiences while spreading alarm abroad. Osman Hadi seemed acutely aware of the risks he faced. His circulation of a provocative map reimagining regional boundaries marked him as a target.
Yet, in interviews, he spoke with a calm, almost fatalistic clarity: an individual could be eliminated, but ideas could not. His warning was prescient. Among Bangladeshi youth, Hadi is now a symbol, even a martyr. His image circulates with slogans insisting that his blood not be wasted, representing a broader struggle for sovereignty, respect, and the right to dissent without fear. Some voices even contemplate new alignments, including closer ties with Pakistan, if Bangladesh’s independence is perceived as under threat. Such dynamics should alarm policymakers across South Asia. The subcontinent’s history is littered with examples of how unresolved resentments harden into long-term hostility, with ordinary citizens bearing the human cost. The deeper danger lies in the belief that power can permanently suppress dissent.
The killing of Osman Hadi in Bangladesh is a stark reminder that the use of violence as a tool of authority rarely achieves the control it promises. Far from reinforcing India’s power, it has revealed deep insecurities within New Delhi, heightened mistrust among its neighbors, and given new impetus to opposition movements already wary of Indian interference. Hadi, a student activist whose ideas challenged prevailing power structures, has become more than a victim; he has become a symbol of resistance. His death demonstrates that when dissent is met with force, it does not disappear—it multiplies, inspiring solidarity, outrage, and renewed determination among those who refuse to be silenced.
India now faces a pivotal choice. It can continue down a path of coercion, relying on fear and nationalist rhetoric to maintain dominance over its smaller neighbors, or it can recognize that influence built on consent, dialogue, and mutual respect is far more enduring. The latter requires acknowledging the anxieties that surround India’s assertive policies, particularly in Muslim-majority nations where historical grievances remain potent and deeply felt. It demands restraint from the media, a culture that too often celebrates aggression, and a willingness to build relationships based on trust rather than intimidation.
Hadi’s death is a lesson in the limits of power. Ideas, once formed, cannot be erased by bullets, threats, or media spectacle. Attempts to assert authority through violence only reveal the fragility of that authority and deepen divides across South Asia. Under Narendra Modi, India’s preoccupation with historical grievances, combined with hyper-nationalist rhetoric, risks creating another generation shaped by fear, anger, and mistrust. Whether New Delhi can pause, reflect, and chart a course that fosters stability and respect in the region—or whether it will continue to provoke cycles of resentment—may determine not just India’s reputation, but the security and cohesion of South Asia for decades to come.
