Selective Memory, Elections and the Uneasy Politics of Neighbourly Advice

H. M. Nazmul Alam :

December is a month of memory in South Asia, but memory, like power, is never neutral. How it is framed, what is remembered and what is omitted often reveal more than the words themselves.

This year, as Bangladesh marked Victory Day, many here noticed not only what was said across the border, but what was conspicuously left unsaid. Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s message commemorating 16 December 1971 spoke at length about Indian soldiers, Indian valour and India’s historic victory, yet Bangladesh, the land where that war was fought and whose independence was sealed that day, did not merit a single mention.

For a country whose birth was the very consequence of that war, the silence was not a mere oversight. It felt like a political statement wrapped in commemorative language.

History is not a zero-sum game, but selective remembrance can make it feel like one. India’s military intervention in the final phase of the Liberation War was decisive and has been acknowledged repeatedly in Bangladesh.

Yet the war itself was not waged for India’s victory. It was waged so that Bengalis could claim their right to self-determination after decades of political exclusion and months of genocidal violence. When Victory Day is framed solely as India’s triumph, without acknowledging Bangladesh’s central role and sacrifice, it unsettles a delicate historical balance.

It recasts a shared past into a one-sided narrative and, intentionally or otherwise, diminishes Bangladesh’s agency in its own liberation.

This discomfort over symbolism has bled into a far more consequential arena, the politics of the present. India’s recent public statements calling for “free, fair, inclusive and credible” elections in Bangladesh have triggered a sharp and unusually blunt response from Dhaka. On the surface, such language sounds benign, even principled. Yet diplomacy is not judged only by the words used, but by who uses them, when, and with what historical baggage. For Bangladesh, the irritation is not with the idea of credible elections, but with the source of the sermon.

Over the past decade and a half, Bangladesh has held three deeply controversial national elections. Each was criticised domestically and internationally for uneven participation, allegations of intimidation and, in some cases, widespread irregularities. During those moments, India did not issue stern reminders about electoral credibility.

On the contrary, it was widely seen as extending political endorsement to the government of the day, offering legitimacy when it was most contested. That history has not faded from public memory. When India now speaks of inclusivity and fairness, it does so against a backdrop of perceived selective concern, which makes even well-meaning statements sound intrusive.

The interim government in Dhaka has therefore drawn a clear line. Bangladesh, its leaders insist, does not need unsolicited advice from neighbours on how to conduct its elections. This is not diplomatic petulance, but a reassertion of sovereignty at a sensitive transitional moment.

The country is attempting to restore public faith in the ballot after years of cynicism and fear. That effort is fragile. External commentary, especially from a neighbour whose past interventions are widely questioned, risks contaminating the process before it even begins.

The reaction has been sharpened further by the unresolved issue of Sheikh Hasina’s presence in India. Since her departure amid a mass uprising, she has continued to make political statements from Indian soil, criticising the interim government, questioning the legitimacy of future elections and projecting herself as a necessary political actor. Inside Bangladesh, this has generated unease that cuts across partisan lines. The concern is not merely about what she says, but where she says it from.

Politics conducted from exile is not new, but when it occurs from the territory of a powerful neighbour with deep historical involvement in domestic affairs, it takes on a different meaning.

Interim government head Muhammad Yunus’s remark urging Hasina to remain silent was less a personal rebuke and more an expression of national anxiety. Many in Bangladesh view such statements from across the border as an unfriendly gesture, one that risks inflaming internal divisions and undermining an already delicate political transition.

There is also an uncomfortable perception, increasingly voiced in academic and policy circles, that India may be seeking to reinsert its preferred political actor into Bangladesh’s electoral landscape under the banner of inclusivity.

The repeated emphasis on participatory elections is read by some as coded language advocating the rehabilitation of the Awami League, despite its current ban and the serious allegations hanging over its leadership. Whether or not this is India’s intent, perception in politics often matters more than formal clarification. And at present, that perception is eroding trust.

This erosion is compounded by broader grievances. Bangladeshi officials and analysts have long complained about hostile rhetoric in segments of Indian media and political discourse, often portraying Bangladesh as unstable, extremist-prone or perpetually dependent. The absence of strong corrective signals from New Delhi has allowed such narratives to harden. When India then comments on Bangladesh’s internal processes, it does so in an environment already charged with suspicion.

India, for its part, insists that it does not interfere and that its interest lies in a stable, democratic neighbour. That interest is genuine and understandable. Instability in Dhaka has direct security and economic implications for New Delhi. Yet stability imposed or perceived to be influenced from outside rarely endures. Bangladesh’s political maturity requires space to resolve its own contradictions, even when that process is messy and uncertain.

At its core, the current strain between Dhaka and New Delhi is not about a single speech, a press release or an individual leader’s remarks. It is about respect, recognition and restraint. Respect for Bangladesh’s historical narrative, recognition of its political agency, and restraint in commenting on its internal democratic processes. These are not unreasonable expectations between neighbours who share blood, borders and a deeply intertwined past.

Friendship in international relations is tested not when interests align neatly, but when restraint is required. For Bangladesh, asserting that it can conduct credible elections without external guidance is part of reclaiming public confidence in its sovereignty. For India, acknowledging that assertion without defensiveness would be a powerful signal of maturity and goodwill.

December will pass, speeches will be archived and statements will fade from headlines. What will remain is the memory of how this moment was handled. Whether it deepened old suspicions or marked the beginning of a more balanced relationship depends on choices made now.

If both sides truly value regional stability and democratic legitimacy, they must remember that influence exercised quietly and respectfully lasts far longer than advice delivered loudly and publicly.

(The writer is an Academic, Journalist, and Political Analyst based in Dhaka, Bangladesh. Currently he teaches at IUBAT.
He can be reached at [email protected])