A strike is not a strategy - Iran will prove it

M A Hossain, 

In certain quarters of Washington, one imagines the corks popping. The news flashes across screens: a coordinated American and Israeli strike has killed Iran’s supreme leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, along with senior commanders. The president posts a triumphant video in the small hours of the morning, urging the Iranian people to seize their moment. Commentators speak of a “decisive blow,” of history turning, of freedom’s imminent arrival in Tehran.

If only geopolitics were so obliging.

There is a recurring temptation in American statecraft—the belief that precision munitions can accomplish what patient politics cannot. Remove the tyrant. Decapitate the regime. Trust that civil society, long suppressed, will rise phoenix-like from the rubble and embrace liberal democracy with grateful tears.

It is a theory. It is also, more often than not, a fantasy.

International politics is not a morality play in which villains exit stage left and heroes stride in from the wings. It is an arena of power, fear, interest, and inertia. When one smashes the central authority of a state—especially one of more than 90 million people with deep institutions, hardened security services, and a powerful ideological core—it do not create a vacuum that angels rush to fill. It creates a vacuum that militias, warlords, and the most ruthless actors scramble to dominate.

We have seen this scenario before.

In Iraq, the toppling of Saddam Hussein was supposed to inaugurate a democratic transformation of the Arab world. Instead, it unleashed sectarian carnage and paved the way for jihadist movements that metastasized across borders. In Libya, the removal of Muammar al-Gaddafi—wrapped in the rhetoric of humanitarian intervention—left a fractured state, rival governments, and open-air slave markets. In Syria, attempts to midwife regime change helped turn a domestic uprising into a prolonged inferno that drew in regional and global powers alike.

These were not small experiments conducted in the margins of world politics. They were enormous strategic wagers, placed on the proposition that American force could engineer political outcomes at acceptable cost.

And now, we are told, the same logic will succeed in Iran—a larger, more populous, more nationally cohesive state, with a far more capable retaliatory apparatus.

Consider the immediate material reality. The Strait of Hormuz is not an abstraction; it is a narrow maritime corridor through which roughly one-fifth of the world’s traded oil passes. It is the jugular vein of the global energy system. When conflict threatens that artery—when tankers hesitate, when insurers spike premiums, when shipping lanes empty—the consequences ripple far beyond the Persian Gulf.

Energy markets are exquisitely sensitive to risk. A sustained disruption would not remain a regional inconvenience. It would translate into higher oil prices, inflationary pressure, and economic pain for households already stretched thin. Grand strategy that ignores such second- and third-order effects is not strategy at all. It is wishful thinking dressed up as resolve.

Then there is the matter of retaliation. Iran is not merely a conventional state; it is a networked power. The Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps has spent decades building influence across the region—arming and financing partners in Lebanon, Iraq, Yemen, and beyond. A decapitation strike may remove individuals, but it does not erase institutions. Nor does it extinguish the logic of survival that grips regimes under existential threat.

States rarely commit suicide. They lash out.

In such a scenario, missile exchanges, proxy escalations, and attacks on regional bases would not be aberrations; they would be predictable responses. And once the spiral begins, it becomes exceedingly difficult to calibrate. Wars have a habit of outrunning the intentions of those who start them.

Meanwhile, strategic focus drifts.

For more than a decade, American policymakers have spoken of a “pivot” to the Indo-Pacific. The rationale is straightforward: the only true peer competitor to the United States is China. It possesses the industrial scale, technological ambition, and demographic heft to challenge American primacy in a way no Middle Eastern power can.

Yet a prolonged conflict with Iran would absorb attention, munitions stockpiles, intelligence assets, and political capital. Every cruise missile launched, every carrier strike group deployed to the Gulf, is a resource not available for deterrence in the Western Pacific. Beijing would not need to fire a shot to benefit from Washington’s distraction. Time and focus would be its quiet allies.

There is also the question of narrative. Wars are often sold with urgent claims—imminent threats, shadowy plots, ticking clocks. History counsels skepticism. Before the invasion of Iraq, the American public was assured of weapons programs that proved illusory. Today, assertions about long-range missile capabilities or nuclear timelines deserve rigorous scrutiny, not applause lines.

When leaders inflate threats beyond publicly verifiable evidence, they corrode trust at home and credibility abroad. The republic pays twice: first in blood and treasure, and then in the erosion of democratic accountability.

None of this is to romanticize the Iranian regime. It is repressive at home and disruptive abroad. Its security forces have suppressed dissent; its regional activities have destabilized neighbors. But acknowledging these realities does not absolve policymakers from the burden of prudence.

Prudence is not passivity. It is the disciplined alignment of means and ends. If the objective is regime change, one must be prepared for occupation, reconstruction, and the long, grinding labor of political transformation. If the objective is deterrence, one must calibrate force to avoid triggering the very conflagration one seeks to prevent. If the objective is containment, one must husband resources for the arenas that matter most.

The danger lies in mistaking a tactical success for a strategic solution. Killing leaders can disrupt command structures. It can degrade coordination. It can signal resolve. But it does not, by itself, resolve the underlying balance of power, nor does it guarantee a friendly successor.

History is unsentimental. It punishes overreach. It exposes illusions.

The jubilation in elite circles—should it exist—may prove fleeting. The harder work begins after the strike: stabilizing markets, reassuring allies, deterring adversaries, and preventing escalation. If that work is not undertaken with sobriety and clarity, the initial triumph will curdle into something far less celebratory.

Great powers are not undone by a single mistake. They are undone by patterns—by the repeated substitution of impulse for strategy, of spectacle for substance.

The United States still possesses unmatched strengths: alliances, innovation, economic depth, military capability. The question is not whether it can strike. It clearly can. The question is whether it can align its actions with a coherent vision of long-term interests.

If the answer is no—if the pattern of the past three decades continues—then the champagne corks may one day be remembered not as the sound of victory, but as the prelude to another costly lesson. Power is real. So are limits. Statesmen ignore either at their peril.

M A Hossain is a senior journalist and international affairs analyst based in Bangladesh.

This article published at :

1. Asia Times, HK : 02 March, 26

2. The Nation, Pak : 03 March, 26

Militancy, sovereignty at South Asia's fault line

M A Hossain, 

The latest spiral of violence between Pakistan and Afghanistan is less a sudden war than the resurfacing of an old, unresolved argument—about borders, sovereignty, militancy and the burdens of history. What happened this week was dramatic: airstrikes, retaliatory assaults, declarations of “open war.” But the underlying logic has been years in the making.

On February 21–22, Pakistan launched airstrikes into Afghanistan’s eastern provinces—Nangarhar, Paktika and Khost—targeting what it described as camps belonging to Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) and ISIS-K. Islamabad called them intelligence-based, selective operations. Kabul called them violations of sovereignty that killed civilians. By February 26, the Afghan Taliban responded with cross-border attacks on Pakistani posts. On February 27, Pakistan escalated further, widening strikes and invoking 'Operation Ghazab Lil Haq'.

Both sides claim heavy enemy casualties. Both deny significant losses of their own. The numbers matter less than the pattern: a fragile ceasefire mediated last year in Doha has collapsed; the Durand Line (the 2,600-kilometer border drawn in 1893 between British India and Afghanistan) remains contested in Afghan political memory; and the militant ecosystem that once served as a geopolitical instrument has become a strategic liability.

To understand why Pakistan acted so forcefully, one must begin not in Kabul but in Islamabad and Peshawar. Early February brought a succession of deadly attacks inside Pakistan: a suicide bombing at a Shia mosque in the capital that killed dozens; cross-border raids in Bajaur; an assault in Bannu that killed Pakistani officers during an intelligence operation. The TTP claimed responsibility for several of these attacks. Pakistan insists the planners and facilitators operate from Afghan soil.

There is a cruel irony here. For decades, elements within Pakistan’s security establishment cultivated militant proxies as tools of regional influence—first against Soviet forces in Afghanistan, later against Indian interests. But geopolitics has a way of mutating its own creations. After the U.S. withdrawal from Afghanistan in 2021 and the Taliban’s return to power, TTP networks found renewed sanctuary and ideological encouragement across the border. What was once strategic depth has become strategic blowback.

Islamabad today sees the TTP not as a nuisance but as an existential threat. The group seeks to overthrow the Pakistani state and impose its own rigid interpretation of governance. Its attacks have killed hundreds in recent years. From Pakistan’s vantage point, diplomacy with Kabul has failed. A Qatar-mediated truce last year collapsed amid continued skirmishes. Officials now say “patience has run out.”

Yet force is a language that rarely translates cleanly across the Durand Line. Afghanistan’s Taliban rulers reject the legitimacy of that border altogether. They deny harboring TTP leadership, even as ideological affinities and personal ties blur distinctions. When Pakistan bombs what it calls militant camps, Afghan authorities call them civilian villages. Each side speaks past the other, appealing to domestic audiences as much as to international law.

The Durand Line itself is not merely a cartographic relic; it is a psychological scar. For Afghanistan, it represents a colonial imposition that split Pashtun communities. For Pakistan, it is an internationally recognized frontier that defines its territorial integrity. Every cross-border strike reopens that wound. Every militant incursion deepens mistrust.

International reaction has been cautious, almost weary. The United Nations has urged de-escalation and respect for international law. Regional actors—Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Iran—have offered mediation. India condemned Pakistan’s strikes as an attempt to externalize internal failures. Noticeably muted have been the United States and China, both of whom have significant stakes in regional stability but limited appetite for new entanglements.

This restraint reflects a broader geopolitical reality. The world’s attention is divided—Ukraine, Gaza, the South China Sea. South Asia’s border crises struggle to command sustained focus unless they threaten nuclear escalation. Afghanistan, after two decades of international intervention, has receded from daily headlines. But neglect does not equal irrelevance. Instability along the Pakistan-Afghanistan frontier can radiate outward: refugee flows, extremist safe havens, regional rivalries.

Pakistan’s decision to escalate also carries domestic dimensions. The country faces economic fragility, political polarization and strained civil-military relations. In such contexts, external action can consolidate internal unity—at least temporarily. Military operations against cross-border militants can rally public opinion and reinforce the narrative of a state under siege. Critics argue this risks conflating legitimate security concerns with political expediency. Supporters counter that no government can ignore attacks on its soldiers and civilians.

Afghanistan’s Taliban leadership confronts its own dilemmas. Having fought a two-decade insurgency against foreign forces, it is reluctant to appear submissive to Pakistani pressure. It must balance ideological solidarity with TTP elements against the practical necessity of avoiding a war with its largest trading partner. Its economy is fragile; international recognition remains elusive. Prolonged conflict with Pakistan would deepen isolation.

History offers sobering lessons. In the 1980s, cross-border sanctuaries turned Afghanistan into a battleground for superpower rivalry. In the 1990s, civil war metastasized into regional proxy conflict. After 2001, the porous border allowed insurgents to regroup, prolonging a war that exhausted both Afghanistan and its neighbors. Each time, tactical decisions compounded strategic instability.

There is also a legal dimension. Under international law, states have a right to self-defense against non-state actors launching armed attacks from another territory. But that right is constrained by necessity and proportionality. Was Pakistan’s use of airpower necessary because Kabul was unwilling or unable to act against TTP? Or did it exceed proportional bounds, risking civilian harm and broader conflict? These are not rhetorical questions; they are the hinge on which diplomatic legitimacy turns.

For the international community, the challenge is not merely to call for restraint but to create incentives for it. Qatar’s prior mediation suggests channels exist. Saudi Arabia and Iran—despite their own rivalries—have signaled interest in regional stability. China, with investments tied to the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor, has reason to discourage prolonged insecurity. Even India, despite condemning Islamabad, benefits from preventing militant spillover.

What would de-escalation require? First, a verifiable mechanism addressing Pakistan’s core grievance: cross-border militant activity. That could involve joint monitoring, intelligence sharing, or third-party verification—ambitious, perhaps unrealistic, but preferable to perpetual reprisal. Second, renewed dialogue on border management, even if the Durand Line’s political status remains contentious. Practical cooperation need not resolve historical disputes overnight. Third, humanitarian safeguards to minimize civilian harm, because every unintended casualty becomes propaganda for the next recruitment drive.

The tragedy of this week’s escalation is that both sides have legitimate security concerns—and both risk undermining them through unchecked retaliation. Pakistan cannot tolerate persistent attacks on its soil. Afghanistan cannot accept routine violations of its sovereignty. The space between those positions is narrow but not nonexistent.

Wars often begin with the language of inevitability. “Patience has run out.” “Open war.” Such phrases satisfy the emotional demand for resolve. They rarely satisfy the strategic requirement for stability. The Pakistan-Afghanistan frontier has endured empires, insurgencies and superpower contests. It will outlast this week’s strikes as well. The question is whether its leaders will learn from history’s hard arithmetic—or repeat it.

In geopolitics, as in life, force can silence a threat for a season. It cannot, by itself, settle a century-old argument about borders, identity and power. That settlement requires something rarer than airpower: political imagination, sustained diplomacy and the humility to recognize that yesterday’s proxy can become tomorrow’s peril.

M A Hossain, political and defense analyst based in Bangladesh. He can be reached at: writetomahossain@gmail.com

  This article published at :

1. New Age, BD : 02 March, 26

আফগান–পাকিস্তান সীমান্ত সংঘাত

এম এ হোসাইন, 

পাকিস্তান ও আফগানিস্তানের মধ্যে সাম্প্রতিক সহিংসতার বিস্ফোরণ কোনো আকস্মিক যুদ্ধ নয়; বরং বহুদিনের অমীমাংসিত এক বিরোধের পুনরুত্থান—সীমান্ত, সার্বভৌমত্ব, জঙ্গিবাদ এবং ইতিহাসের বোঝা নিয়ে। এই সপ্তাহের ঘটনাপ্রবাহ ছিল নাটকীয়: বিমান হামলা, পাল্টা আক্রমণ, “উন্মুক্ত যুদ্ধ”-এর ঘোষণা। কিন্তু এর পেছনের যুক্তি বহু বছরের জমাট বাস্তবতার ফল।

গত ২১–২২ ফেব্রুয়ারি পাকিস্তান আফগানিস্তানের নানগারহার, পাকতিকা ও খোস্ত প্রদেশে বিমান হামলা চালায়। ইসলামাবাদের দাবি, লক্ষ্য ছিল তেহরিক-ই-তালেবান পাকিস্তান (টিটিপি) ও আইএসআইএস-কে সংশ্লিষ্ট ঘাঁটি। তারা একে গোয়েন্দা-তথ্যভিত্তিক, লক্ষ্যভিত্তিক অভিযান বলে বর্ণনা করে। কাবুলের বক্তব্য ভিন্ন—এটি তাদের সার্বভৌমত্বের লঙ্ঘন এবং এতে বেসামরিক মানুষ নিহত হয়েছে। গত ২৬ ফেব্রুয়ারি আফগান তালেবান সীমান্ত চৌকিতে পাল্টা হামলা চালায়। ২৭ ফেব্রুয়ারি পাকিস্তান আরও বিস্তৃত আকারে হামলা জোরদার করে এবং ‘অপারেশন গাজব লিল হক’-এর কথা উল্লেখ করে।

উভয় পক্ষই শত্রুপক্ষের ব্যাপক ক্ষয়ক্ষতির দাবি করছে, নিজেদের ক্ষতি অস্বীকার করছে। এখানে সংখ্যার চেয়ে বেশি গুরুত্বপূর্ণ হলো প্রবণতা: গত বছর দোহায় মধ্যস্থতায় হওয়া ভঙ্গুর যুদ্ধবিরতি ভেঙে গেছে; ১৮৯৩ সালে ব্রিটিশ ভারতের সঙ্গে আফগানিস্তানের চুক্তিতে আঁকা ২,৬০০ কিলোমিটার দীর্ঘ ডুরান্ড লাইন আজও আফগান রাজনৈতিক স্মৃতিতে বিতর্কিত; আর যে জঙ্গি নেটওয়ার্ক একসময় ভূরাজনৈতিক হাতিয়ার ছিল, তা এখন কৌশলগত বোঝা।

পাকিস্তান কেন এত আক্রমণাত্মক হলো—এর উত্তর খুঁজতে হলে কাবুল নয়, ইসলামাবাদ ও পেশোয়ারের সাম্প্রতিক বাস্তবতা দেখতে হবে। ফেব্রুয়ারির শুরুতে পাকিস্তানে একের পর এক প্রাণঘাতী হামলা হয়: রাজধানীতে একটি শিয়া মসজিদে আত্মঘাতী বিস্ফোরণে বহু মানুষ নিহত; বাজাউরে সীমান্তঘেঁষা হামলা; বান্নুতে গোয়েন্দা অভিযানের সময় সেনা কর্মকর্তাদের মৃত্যু। এসব হামলার দায় স্বীকার করেছে টিটিপি। পাকিস্তানের অভিযোগ, হামলার পরিকল্পনা ও সমন্বয় হয়েছে আফগান ভূখণ্ড থেকে।

এখানেই নির্মম বিদ্রূপ। দশকের পর দশক পাকিস্তানের নিরাপত্তা নীতির একটি অংশ ছিল জঙ্গি গোষ্ঠীগুলোকে আঞ্চলিক প্রভাবের উপকরণ হিসেবে ব্যবহার করা—প্রথমে সোভিয়েতবিরোধী যুদ্ধে, পরে ভারতের বিরুদ্ধে কৌশলগত ভারসাম্যে। কিন্তু ভূরাজনীতির নিজস্ব প্রতিক্রিয়া আছে। ২০২১ সালে যুক্তরাষ্ট্রের প্রত্যাহার ও তালেবানের প্রত্যাবর্তনের পর টিটিপি নতুন আশ্রয় ও উৎসাহ পায়। একসময়ের ‘স্ট্র্যাটেজিক ডেপথ’ এখন ‘স্ট্র্যাটেজিক ব্লোব্যাক’।

ইসলামাবাদ আজ টিটিপিকে কেবল নিরাপত্তা সমস্যা নয়, রাষ্ট্রের জন্য অস্তিত্বগত হুমকি হিসেবে দেখে। সংগঠনটির লক্ষ্য পাকিস্তানি রাষ্ট্রব্যবস্থাকে উৎখাত করা। সাম্প্রতিক বছরগুলোতে তাদের হামলায় শত শত মানুষ নিহত হয়েছে। পাকিস্তানের মতে, কূটনৈতিক প্রচেষ্টা ব্যর্থ হয়েছে; গত বছরের যুদ্ধবিরতি স্থায়ী হয়নি। তাই তাদের ভাষায়, “ধৈর্যের সীমা শেষ।”

কিন্তু ডুরান্ড লাইনের ওপারে শক্তির ভাষা খুব কমই কাঙ্ক্ষিত অনুবাদ পায়। আফগান তালেবান ডুরান্ড লাইনকে চূড়ান্ত আন্তর্জাতিক সীমান্ত হিসেবে স্বীকার করে না। তারা টিটিপিকে আশ্রয় দেওয়ার অভিযোগ অস্বীকার করে, যদিও আদর্শিক ও ব্যক্তিগত সম্পর্ক বাস্তবতাকে জটিল করে। পাকিস্তান যাকে জঙ্গি ঘাঁটি বলে আখ্যা দেয়, আফগান কর্তৃপক্ষ তাকে বেসামরিক গ্রাম বলে। উভয় পক্ষই আন্তর্জাতিক আইন ও জনমতের আদালতে নিজেদের অবস্থান প্রতিষ্ঠায় ব্যস্ত।

ডুরান্ড লাইন শুধু মানচিত্রের রেখা নয়; এটি মনস্তাত্ত্বিক ক্ষত। আফগানদের কাছে এটি উপনিবেশিক বিভাজনের স্মারক, যা পশতুন জনগোষ্ঠীকে দুই ভাগে ভাগ করেছে। পাকিস্তানের কাছে এটি আন্তর্জাতিকভাবে স্বীকৃত সীমান্ত, যার অখণ্ডতা রক্ষা করা রাষ্ট্রের দায়িত্ব। প্রতিটি সীমান্ত লঙ্ঘন সেই ক্ষতকে উসকে দেয়; প্রতিটি জঙ্গি অনুপ্রবেশ অবিশ্বাস বাড়ায়।

আন্তর্জাতিক প্রতিক্রিয়া সতর্ক। জাতিসংঘ উত্তেজনা প্রশমনের আহ্বান জানিয়েছে এবং বেসামরিক সুরক্ষার কথা বলেছে। কাতার, সৌদি আরব ও ইরান সংলাপের প্রস্তাব দিয়েছে। ভারত পাকিস্তানের বিমান হামলাকে আন্তর্জাতিক আইন লঙ্ঘন বলে সমালোচনা করেছে। যুক্তরাষ্ট্র ও চীনের অবস্থান তুলনামূলকভাবে সংযত—তাদের আঞ্চলিক স্বার্থ আছে, কিন্তু নতুন সংঘাতে জড়ানোর আগ্রহ কম।

এই সংযমের পেছনে বৈশ্বিক বাস্তবতা রয়েছে। ইউক্রেন, গাজা, দক্ষিণ চীন সাগর—বিশ্বের মনোযোগ বিভক্ত। আফগানিস্তান আর আগের মতো শিরোনামে নেই। কিন্তু উপেক্ষা মানেই গুরুত্বহীনতা নয়। পাকিস্তান-আফগান সীমান্তে অস্থিরতা শরণার্থী স্রোত, উগ্রবাদ ও আঞ্চলিক প্রতিদ্বন্দ্বিতার মাধ্যমে বিস্তৃত প্রভাব ফেলতে পারে।

পাকিস্তানের অভ্যন্তরীণ বাস্তবতাও প্রাসঙ্গিক। অর্থনৈতিক চাপ, রাজনৈতিক মেরুকরণ, বেসামরিক-সামরিক টানাপোড়েন—এমন প্রেক্ষাপটে বাহ্যিক নিরাপত্তা ইস্যু জাতীয় ঐক্যের আবহ তৈরি করতে পারে। সমালোচকেরা বলেন, এতে নিরাপত্তা উদ্বেগের সঙ্গে রাজনৈতিক হিসাব মিশে যায়। সমর্থকেরা বলেন, রাষ্ট্র তার নাগরিক ও সৈনিকদের ওপর হামলা উপেক্ষা করতে পারে না।

আফগান তালেবান নেতৃত্বও দ্বিধায়। তারা পাকিস্তানের চাপের কাছে নতি স্বীকারের ভাবমূর্তি চায় না। আবার বৃহত্তম বাণিজ্য অংশীদারের সঙ্গে দীর্ঘমেয়াদি সংঘাতও তাদের পক্ষে নয়। আন্তর্জাতিক স্বীকৃতি সীমিত; অর্থনীতি দুর্বল। দীর্ঘ সংঘাত তাদের বিচ্ছিন্নতা বাড়াবে।

ইতিহাস সতর্ক করে। আশির দশকে সীমান্তবর্তী আশ্রয় আফগানিস্তানকে পরাশক্তির প্রতিদ্বন্দ্বিতার ময়দানে পরিণত করেছিল। নব্বইয়ের গৃহযুদ্ধ আঞ্চলিক প্রক্সি সংঘাতে রূপ নিয়েছিল। ২০০১–এর পর ছিদ্রযুক্ত সীমান্ত দীর্ঘ যুদ্ধকে টিকিয়ে রেখেছিল। প্রতিবারই স্বল্পমেয়াদি কৌশল দীর্ঘমেয়াদি অস্থিরতা বাড়িয়েছে।

আন্তর্জাতিক আইনের প্রশ্নও রয়েছে। কোনো রাষ্ট্র তার ভূখণ্ডে সশস্ত্র হামলার মুখে আত্মরক্ষার অধিকার রাখে। কিন্তু সেই অধিকার প্রয়োজনীয়তা ও সামঞ্জস্যের নীতিতে আবদ্ধ। পাকিস্তানের বিমান হামলা কি ছিল শেষ উপায়, নাকি অতিরিক্ত শক্তি প্রয়োগ? এই প্রশ্নের উত্তরই কূটনৈতিক বৈধতা নির্ধারণ করবে।

সমাধানের পথ সহজ নয়, কিন্তু অনুপস্থিতও নয়। প্রথমত, পাকিস্তানের মূল অভিযোগ—সীমান্তপারের জঙ্গি কার্যক্রম নিরসনে বিশ্বাসযোগ্য প্রক্রিয়া দরকার। যৌথ পর্যবেক্ষণ বা তৃতীয় পক্ষের যাচাই—কঠিন হলেও বিবেচনাযোগ্য। দ্বিতীয়ত, সীমান্ত ব্যবস্থাপনায় বাস্তবসম্মত সহযোগিতা, যদিও রাজনৈতিক বিতর্ক অমীমাংসিত থাকে। তৃতীয়ত, বেসামরিক সুরক্ষা নিশ্চিত করা, কারণ প্রতিটি অনিচ্ছাকৃত হতাহত পরবর্তী আক্রমণের প্রচারণা হয়ে উঠে।

এই সপ্তাহের ট্র্যাজেডি হলো—উভয় পক্ষেরই বৈধ নিরাপত্তা উদ্বেগ আছে, তবু অনিয়ন্ত্রিত প্রতিশোধ সেই উদ্বেগকেই ক্ষতিগ্রস্ত করতে পারে। পাকিস্তান ধারাবাহিক হামলা মেনে নিতে পারে না। আফগানিস্তান সার্বভৌমত্বের লঙ্ঘন সহ্য করতে পারে না। এই দুই অবস্থানের মাঝখানে যে ক্ষুদ্র পরিসর আছে, সেটিই কূটনীতির ক্ষেত্র।

যুদ্ধ প্রায়ই “অপরিহার্যতার” ভাষায় শুরু হয়। কিন্তু শক্তি দিয়ে শতবর্ষের সীমান্ত বিতর্ক মীমাংসা হয় না। এর জন্য দরকার রাজনৈতিক কল্পনাশক্তি, দীর্ঘস্থায়ী সংলাপ এবং ইতিহাসের কঠিন অঙ্ক থেকে শিক্ষা নেওয়ার সদিচ্ছা। গতকালের প্রক্সি যে আগামীকালের বিপদ হতে পারে—এই স্বীকারোক্তিই হয়তো শান্তির প্রথম ধাপ।

লেখক : প্রাবন্ধিক। 

এই লেখাটি প্রকাশিত হয়েছে :

১. দৈনিক সংবাদ, ঢাকা : ০১ মার্চ, ২৬

২. সময়ের আলো, ঢাকা : ০১ মার্চ, ২৬

A Father’s Heart: A Letter to My Beloved Daughter

M A Hossain, 

My Dearest Ayaana,  

As I sit here, pen trembling in my hand, my soul overflows with emotions too vast to contain. How do I put into words the depth of a father’s love? How do I capture the way my heart still swells, even now, when I think of the day you came into this world—the day Allah blessed me with the greatest gift of my life?  

It was February 23, 2012, a day etched into my very being, as vivid as if it were yesterday. The moment you took your first breath, the universe shifted. Light poured into our lives, and nothing would ever be the same again. I came to know that the sacred whisper of the Azaan in your tiny ears by your grandfather's voice was trembling with emotion as he welcomed you into this world with faith, love, and gratitude. You were born in Cumilla, in the quiet embrace of a private hospital, yet your arrival sent ripples of joy through our entire existence.  

Oh, how my heart ached that night—I was far from you, helpless, praying with every fiber of my being. Your mother, ever the pillar of strength, reassured me, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions she must have felt. But a father’s worry knows no bounds. Sleep eluded me; my mind was only with you and your brave mother. At the first light of dawn, I rushed to you, my soul restless until I could hold you in my arms.  

And then—there you were.

So small, so fragile, yet so radiant. The moment I cradled you against my chest, time stood still. Tears blurred my vision as I whispered prayers of thanks to Allah, over and over. In that instant, nothing else mattered—not the distance, not the exhaustion, not the fear. Only "you". Only this miracle in my arms. We named you "Ayaana"—"a gift from Allah," and indeed, you were. A divine blessing, a light that filled every shadow in our hearts.  

The days that followed were a symphony of joy. Your grandmothers and uncle rushed to meet you, their faces alight with wonder. Our home, once just walls and memories, became alive with your presence. I remember your first visit to your grandfather’s house in Gafargaon, the way your tiny fingers curled around mine, as if you knew—"you were home."

Oh, my sweet girl, how you glowed in those early years. The way your eyes sparkled when I brought you your first tricycle—bright blue, just like your boundless spirit. You rode it with such delight, your laughter ringing through the garden while your mother watched, her heart swelling with pride. And then came school—your first steps into the world beyond our arms. I remember the way you clung to your books, your curious mind always hungry for more. Your mother, ever your guiding star, ensured you learned not just from textbooks but from the Quran, nurturing your soul as much as your mind.  

There were scraped knees, sleepless nights, and the usual childhood sniffles, but through it all, your mother was your guardian angel—her healing hands soothing every ache, her love a constant shelter. And though life, in its unpredictable turns, has placed distance between us, know this, my darling: "not a single second passes where you are not in my heart."  

Your laughter still echoes in my dreams. Your smile—bright as the morning sun—fuels my strength. The way you would run to me, your tiny voice calling out, remains my most treasured memory. You carry within you the legacy of our ancestors, the kindness of your mother, and the love of a father who would move mountains for you.  

On this birthday, my beloved Ayaana, I bow my head once more in gratitude to Allah. For you. For the privilege of being your father. No distance, no time, no trial can ever diminish the love I hold for you. You are "my purpose, my pride, my eternal joy."

Wherever you go, whatever path you walk, my prayers surround you like an unbreakable shield. May Allah protect you, guide you, and fill your life with endless blessings. And though we may be apart for now, my heart beats for you—today, always, and forever.  With all the love a father’s soul can hold,  Ameen.

M A Hossain, political and defense analyst based in Bangladesh. He can be reached at: writetomahossain@gmail.com

  This article published at :

1. The country today, BD : 25 Feb, 26

2. Asian Age, BD : 26 February, 26

Regime Change at Any Cost? The Perils of Weaponizing Scarcity in Havana

M A Hossain, 

The streets of Havana, once alive with music and the hum of daily life, now tell a quieter story: one of long lines at gas stations that have nothing to dispense, hospitals flickering in and out of power, and garbage piling in corners because the trucks that once cleared it lack the fuel to move. This is not the aftermath of a natural disaster or a civil war. It is the result of deliberate policies enacted by the world’s most powerful government — a self-inflicted siege that risks human lives and global norms. 

Call it what it is: a man-made humanitarian catastrophe.

To understand how we arrived here, we must revisit the anatomy of this crisis not as abstract geopolitics but as the lived reality of people now confronting shortages that affect every aspect of daily life — electricity, healthcare, transport, food supply, sanitation, and even the ability of airlines to fly in and out of the island. 

Sanctions vs. Blockade

Washington has long maintained an embargo on Cuba dating back to 1962. But the recent escalation — particularly the U.S. declaration of a “national emergency” empowering tariffs on countries supplying oil to Cuba and the effective blockage of Venezuelan oil destined for the island — transcends conventional sanctions and resembles, in form and function, a blockade that constricts the flow of basic life needs. 

An embargo, at least in theory, restricts trade between two states. A blockade, however, is unmistakably a tool of warfare: it stops goods from reaching a population regardless of sovereignty or third-party interests. And when the list of affected goods includes energy so essential that its absence destabilizes hospitals, water systems, sanitation services, and food production, we leave the realm of political pressure and enter that of collective punishment. 

Sanctions may be an instrument of coercive diplomacy; blockades are instruments of desperation.

Scarcity as a Weapon

The tightening of U.S. measures has had immediate, devastating effects. Power grids that once staggered have now faltered into rolling blackouts. Cuban health officials report that ambulances struggle to find fuel, hospital services are hampered by outages, and vital flights bringing in medical supplies cannot land because jet fuel is exhausted. 

These aren’t inconveniences. They are strategic conditions engineered to degrade daily life to a point where society itself begins to crumble.

In purely geopolitical terms, the United States is playing chess — redirecting Venezuelan oil exports away from Havana, threatening penalties on nations that would assist Cuba, and insisting that Cuba represents an “unusual and extraordinary” threat to U.S. security. But the board on which these moves unfold is not theoretical: it is an island with 11 million residents trying to procure basic sustenance while blackouts last up to 20 hours a day. 

What we see now is a scarcity weaponized: energy constraints imposed to foment instability and, potentially, to provoke political change through suffering. This is policy masquerading as pressure, a strategy that uses human needs itself as leverage.

The Architects of Regime Change and Their Miscalculations

Every geopolitical gambit has architects, and in Washington today they are not faceless bureaucrats. The hardliners pushing this rollback of détente and tightening of economic constraints are driven not merely by strategy but by an ideological fixation on regime change. In the U.S. context this fixation traces to political constituencies, historical grievances, and the enduring memory of Cold War antagonisms rather than a clear assessment of present realities.

The danger in this worldview is that it misreads the durability of the Cuban state and the consequences of pushing a society already facing infrastructural challenges beyond the brink. It assumes that deprivation will produce revolution, rather than desperation; that civic order will break toward political reform, rather than collapse into lawlessness and despair.

This is not an abstract concern. Latin America has witnessed the fallout of destabilized states — from Venezuela’s economic unraveling to Haiti’s cycle of political violence and humanitarian breakdown. Any scenario in which Cuba becomes acutely deprived of essential services carries a real risk of “Haitianization”: a spiral of insecurity, social atomisation, and uncontrollable migration. The Cuban state might not simply crack; its collapse could trigger regional chaos. 

It is worth remembering that Cuba’s revolutionary project and its social institutions have survived decades of hardship, internal missteps, and shifting global alliances. The assumption that severe deprivation will yield a controllable political transition misjudges both Cuban resilience and the unpredictable dynamics of popular suffering.

Regional and International Consequences

This crisis does not exist in a vacuum. As U.S. tariffs and threats isolate Cuba economically, other global players are stepping in. Russia has publicly supported Cuba’s sovereignty and pledged aid, while China’s involvement in renewable energy initiatives on the island underscores the broader geopolitical competition now unfolding. 

Latin American governments and regional organizations — from the Organization of American States to the Community of Latin American and Caribbean States(CELAC) — have thus far offered muted responses. The lack of a unified regional pushback against unilateral coercive measures reflects political diversities and strategic hesitations. But it also reveals how U.S. foreign policy, in its current form, may be eroding the diplomatic framework necessary to manage crises collaboratively rather than confrontationally.

The warning from international institutions is clear: punishing a nation’s economy in ways that directly threaten its civilian population violates the principles of human rights and international norms. The United Nations’ human rights office has criticized fuel blockades as undermining human dignity — a signal that the legitimacy of such measures is not universally accepted, even among U.S. allies. 

Diplomacy Over Destabilization

There is a paradox at the heart of this crisis. Cuba’s government has expressed willingness to hold talks with the United States without preconditions, in terms that respect its sovereignty. But the very policies meant to compel negotiation — sanctions that break supply chains, tariffs that choke imports, and threats against third-party nations — make constructive dialogue more difficult. 

True diplomatic engagement requires acknowledging the humanity of the other side — not just their calculus of power. It means recognizing that populations, not regimes, bear the immediate cost of coercive policies.

The lesson of history is that coercion rarely yields stable, positive political change. More often, it begets resentment, internal repression, and long-lasting distrust. The smarter course, geopolitically and ethically, is to shift away from maximum pressure toward a strategy that blends pragmatic engagement with clear red lines — one that addresses legitimate security concerns while ensuring that human lives are not held hostage to political ambitions.

Reassessing Priorities Before the Brink

Cuba today stands at a juncture: its energy grid failing, its hospitals struggling, its services collapsing, and its people bracing for greater suffering. What began as an old embargo has morphed into something more akin to a blockade that imperils basic human needs.

If the United States wishes to promote stability, democracy, and human dignity in the Western Hemisphere, it must reconsider strategies that put civilians at risk. The alternative — watching a society unravel under the weight of engineered scarcity — is not just a policy failure but a moral one.

Humanitarian catastrophe isn’t an inevitability; it’s a choice. And in the case of Cuba, it is time to choose differently.

M A Hossain, political and defense analyst based in Bangladesh. He can be reached at: writetomahossain@gmail.com

This article published at :

1. Eurasia Review, USA : 25 February, 26

2. New Age, BD : 26 February, 26

3. The Nation, Pak : 27 February, 26

4. Minute Mirror, Pak : 25 Feb, 26

Bangladesh at Trade Crossroads : How Yunus-Pact Collides with US Supreme Court Ruling

M A Hossain,

Trade agreements are not signed in a vacuum. They are signed in moments—moments shaped by political uncertainty, economic pressure, and international maneuvering. And sometimes, history intervenes faster than diplomats anticipate.

On February 9, 2026, the recently departed interim administration led by Muhammad Yunus signed the United States–Bangladesh Agreement on Reciprocal Trade. It was presented as pragmatic statecraft: reciprocal tariffs reduced to 19%, preferential entry for American agricultural and industrial goods, regulatory commitments, digital trade alignment, and undertakings to expand purchases of U.S. aircraft, energy, and defense equipment. The Agreement was not merely a commercial arrangement. It was a geopolitical document. This could have been one of the most important strategic shifts in Bangladesh's modern history.

Seven days later, that government was gone.

On February 12, the voters of Bangladesh delivered its verdict. By mid-February, a new administration led by Tarique Rahman began assuming office. And then, on February 20, a decision from the Supreme Court of the United States fundamentally altered the terrain. In a 6–3 ruling, the Court struck down President Donald Trump’s sweeping tariffs imposed under the International Emergency Economic Powers Act, declaring that such measures lacked congressional authorization.

In less than two weeks, the legal foundation upon which the reciprocal trade agreement rested had cracked.

The sequence matters. The agreement was negotiated in the shadow of U.S. tariff escalation. Washington had invoked emergency powers to justify broad trade measures. Dhaka, facing export vulnerability (particularly in ready-made garments) sought relief. Concessions were traded for tariff reductions. It was a high-pressure environment. The interim government framed the pact as damage control.

But when the U.S. Supreme Court invalidated the tariff architecture underpinning that pressure, the strategic calculus shifted overnight.

Bangladesh’s Commerce Secretary has since indicated that the agreement, still unratified, may lose its legal basis if tied directly to now-invalidated tariff mechanisms. That observation is not procedural trivia. It is geopolitical oxygen. It restores maneuvering space.

This changes how we must read the Yunus-era agreement.

Originally, analysts argued that the pact embedded structural alignment beyond mere tariff reciprocity. Sectional provisions on export controls, digital trade, defense procurement, and energy sourcing signaled long-term geopolitical tilt. Bangladesh appeared to be binding itself to American strategic priorities—particularly in an Indo-Pacific climate defined by the U.S.–China competition.

Those concerns remain valid in principle. But law and leverage are dynamic.

The Supreme Court’s decision has introduced asymmetry in reverse. If Washington’s tariff regime exceeded statutory authority, then the reciprocal concessions extracted under its shadow deserve scrutiny. Agreements are negotiated between sovereign equals, not under legal uncertainty. When the initiating measure is ruled unlawful, downstream commitments warrant review.

President Trump, in response to the Court’s ruling, announced a temporary 10% global tariff under Section 122 authority for 150 days. That move, narrower and time-bound, is qualitatively different from the broad emergency-based tariffs that preceded it. The environment has moderated.

Bangladesh is no longer negotiating under maximalist pressure.

This distinction is critical for three reasons. First, the tariff baseline has shifted. If U.S. duties stand at 10% rather than 19 or higher, the economic urgency behind Bangladesh’s concessions weakens. The original bargain—reduced tariffs in exchange for regulatory alignment and procurement undertakings—must be recalibrated against current realities. Trade diplomacy must be responsive to present conditions, not frozen in past anxieties.

Second, the agreement remains unratified. That is not a technical footnote. It means the new government retains sovereign discretion. Parliament is not bound by interim commitments. Inter-ministerial review is not obstructionism; it is constitutional prudence.

Third, the broader strategic environment demands balance. Bangladesh’s foreign policy tradition has been one of diversification. Engagement with China under infrastructure initiatives. Energy cooperation with Russia at Rooppur. Defense sourcing from multiple partners. Robust trade ties with the European Union and India. This multi-vector approach has insulated the country from overdependence.

The Yunus agreement, as structured, risked narrowing that bandwidth. Provisions relating to complementary restrictive measures, export control alignment, digital trade conformity, and defense procurement orientation implied gradual integration into a U.S.-anchored framework.

Now, the question is no longer whether Bangladesh must accept that trajectory as fait accompli. The question is whether it should renegotiate from improved leverage.

The ready-made garment sector—over $3 billion annually in exports to the United States—remains central. No responsible government can gamble recklessly with that lifeline. But protection does not require capitulation. It requires intelligent sequencing.

The new administration should undertake three immediate steps.

First, conduct a comprehensive legal and economic audit of the February 9 agreement. Identify which provisions are directly tethered to invalidated U.S. tariff authorities and which stand independently. Assess procurement commitments—such as aircraft and LNG imports—against current market forecasts and foreign exchange projections. Transparency here strengthens negotiating credibility.

Second, reopen bilateral consultations with Washington. The Supreme Court ruling provides diplomatic cover for recalibration. A 10% temporary tariff regime is a different negotiating landscape. Bangladesh can seek tariff stabilization without embedding expansive security and digital clauses that constrain long-term autonomy.

Third, diversify markets while negotiating. The European Union’s GSP+ framework, emerging Asian markets, and regional trade corridors must be expanded. Diversification strengthens bargaining power; dependence weakens it.

None of this implies hostility toward the United States. Strategic partnership with Washington remains valuable. American markets matter. Technology cooperation can be beneficial. Defense dialogue can enhance professionalism. But partnership must rest on mutual respect and legal clarity.

The interim government may argue that it acted under exigency. Perhaps it did. Economic headwinds were real. Global trade fragmentation is intensifying. Yet transitional administrations should exercise restraint when embedding long-term strategic commitments. That principle is not partisan; it is constitutional.

The irony is instructive. What appeared to be a strategic lock-in may now become a strategic reopening.

History offers lessons. Smaller states survive great-power competition by preserving optionality. They sign agreements, yes—but they also revisit them when circumstances change. Law intervenes. Courts rule. Elections reshape mandates. Diplomacy adapts.

The February 20 Supreme Court decision was not about Bangladesh. It was about the limits of executive power in the United States. Yet its ripple effects have reached Dhaka. International agreements do not exist in isolation from domestic constitutional structures. When one pillar shifts, the architecture above must be re-evaluated.

Bangladesh today stands at a quieter but significant inflection point. It can ratify the February 9 framework unchanged, arguing continuity. Or it can review, renegotiate, and recalibrate—anchoring trade policy to present legal and economic realities rather than to a dissolved government’s emergency calculations.

Stability is valuable. But so is sovereignty.

The path forward need not be confrontational. It should be deliberate. Careful review, stakeholder consultation, parliamentary scrutiny, and measured diplomacy—these are the tools of a confident state.

Trade agreements shape decades. Court rulings can reshape weeks. Between those two timelines lies leadership.

The opportunity now before the new government is not to repudiate partnership, but to refine it. Not to retreat from engagement, but to ensure that engagement reflects both national interest and current law. Moments of recalibration are rare. Bangladesh has been handed one. The question is whether it will use it.

M A Hossain, political and defense analyst based in Bangladesh. He can be reached at: writetomahossain@gmail.com

   This article published at :

1. New Delhi Post, India : 24 Feb, 26

Beyond the ballot box

M A Hossain, 

Politics in Bangladesh has rarely been a gentle craft. It has been a battlefield. Victory has meant annihilation. Defeat has meant persecution. For decades, the culture was simple: win at all costs, govern without mercy, and prepare for revenge. The result was predictable — cycles of bitterness, institutional decay, and a democracy that existed more in speeches than in spirit.

But moments arrive in history when a leader is handed not merely power, but an opportunity to redefine a nation’s political character. Tarique Rahman now stands at such a moment.

The mass uprising of August 5, 2024, which led to the ouster of Sheikh Hasina’s government, was not merely a political transition. It was an eruption of public exhaustion. It signaled that Bangladeshis were tired of institutional weaponization, tired of partisan vengeance, tired of politics that felt less like governance and more like perpetual civil war. The landslide victory of the Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP), securing 209 seats, was not simply an electoral triumph. It was a national plea for reset. And resets require statesmanship.

There are times when political leaders must look less like tacticians and more like healers. This is one of those times. Tarique Rahman would do well to look toward the example of Nelson Mandela. Mandela inherited a nation on the brink — fractured by race, scarred by imprisonment, poisoned by resentment. He had every moral justification for vengeance. Instead, he chose reconciliation. He understood a profound truth: justice without forgiveness becomes another form of oppression.

Bangladesh, though different in context, faces a parallel psychological crossroads. After years of confrontation politics, after the institutional lapses and excesses that defined previous administrations, there is understandable anger. But anger, if institutionalized, will only reproduce the very system that citizens rejected.

History offers another example closer to home. General Ziaur Rahman, after the turmoil of the mid-1970s, did not govern through perpetual purges. He sought political normalization. He opened political space. He reintroduced multiparty democracy. Whatever one’s partisan assessment of his legacy, he recognized that nations fractured by upheaval cannot survive on retribution alone. They require integration.

The father sought unity after instability. The son now faces a similar test. The recent courtesy calls by Tarique Rahman on others political contenders were more than symbolic gestures. In a country where leaders rarely visit rivals except to denounce them, such meetings carry cultural weight. They signal that electoral victory does not translate into moral monopoly. They hint at a shift from “winner-takes-all” to “winner-leads-all.”

His public warning against revenge politics was equally significant. Words matter in transitional periods. They can either inflame or stabilize. By urging party workers to avoid conflict and emphasizing that the victory belongs to democracy — not merely to the BNP — Tarique Rahman positioned himself above partisan triumphalism. That is the language of a statesman, not merely a victor.

But gestures, while important, must mature into institutions. Bangladesh now needs a formal reconciliation process. Not a theatrical commission designed to embarrass opponents. Not selective accountability. A genuine, structured national dialogue aimed at repairing trust between parties, strengthening institutional independence, and defining rules of democratic competition that survive changes in power.

The world offers ample precedents. South Africa’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission prevented civil war. Rwanda, after genocide, used community-based justice mechanisms to rebuild social cohesion. Even in Latin America, post-authoritarian governments have balanced accountability with political reintegration. The lesson is not that past wrongs should be ignored. It is that societies must decide whether punishment or stability will be their organizing principle.

After a mass uprising, wisdom lies in drawing a line — not to erase history, but to prevent history from consuming the future. Institutional lapses must be corrected through reform, not revenge. Oversight must replace obstruction. Parliament must become a chamber of argument, not a theatre of vendetta.

There are encouraging signs. Jamaat-e-Islami’s pledge to act as a “strong opposition” rather than an obstructive one hints at political maturation. The political climate itself is shifting. Citizens, particularly the younger generation who powered the uprising, are less patient with old hostilities. They demand governance, not drama.

Yet the temptation of retribution will linger. Supporters who suffered during previous administrations will demand repayment. Political activists accustomed to confrontation may resist moderation. Here lies the true test of leadership: the ability to disappoint one’s most fervent supporters for the sake of national stability.

Mandela did it. He risked alienating radicals within his own movement. Ziaur Rahman did it in his own way, prioritizing normalization over prolonged purges. Tarique Rahman must now decide whether he wishes to be remembered as a partisan victor or a national unifier.

Unity does not mean ideological surrender. It means establishing a political culture where disagreement is fierce but not existential. Where opposition is respected, not criminalized. Where elections determine power, but institutions limit its abuse.

A reconciliation framework could include cross-party constitutional dialogue, judicial reforms to ensure neutrality, depoliticization of administrative bodies, and protections for peaceful dissent. These are not abstract ideals. They are safeguards against the relapse into authoritarian reflexes.

Bangladesh stands at the edge of a new dawn. The uprising dismantled a regime. The election produced a mandate. But mandates are burdens, not trophies. They demand restraint in victory and magnanimity in power.

If Tarique Rahman embraces the mantle of unity — if he becomes a symbol of forgiveness, prospect, and democratic maturity — he will not merely lead a government. He will reshape the political grammar of the republic. And that would be a legacy far greater than 209 seats in parliament. The alternative is depressingly familiar: renewed cycles of accusation, institutional weaponization, and the slow erosion of public trust. Bangladesh has walked that road before. It ends nowhere.

A new democratic Bangladesh requires courage of a different kind — not the courage to fight, but the courage to forgive; not the instinct to dominate, but the discipline to reconcile. History occasionally gives leaders a Mandela moment. It is rare. It is fragile. And it does not wait forever. Tarique Rahman now has one. The question is whether he will seize it.

M A Hossain, political and defense analyst based in Bangladesh. He can be reached at: writetomahossain@gmail.com

   This article published at :

1. New Age, BD : 21 February, 26

2. The Nation, Pak : 01 March, 26

3. Daily Lead Pakistan, Pak : 02 Mar,26

4. Blitz, BD : 20 February, 26