THE reality is harsh, and the manipulation is not just subtle — it is deliberate, ingrained in the very fabric of power itself. As I read through the analysis presented by Commodore Abdur Razzak in ¶¶Òõ¾«Æ· and Sharbari Z Ahmed in Netra.news, the underlying dynamics that shape the political landscape of both Bangladesh and the wider world become starkly clear. From Washington to Dhaka to Delhi, the patterns are unmistakable, the logic disturbingly predictable. Minorities, across the globe, are not merely neglected — they are instrumentalised, their struggles manipulated for the greater ambitions of those in power.
This isn’t just a historical anomaly. It is an enduring reality, one that transcends borders and ideologies. Whether it is the rhetoric of fear employed in the West or the calculated interventions in South Asia, minorities are often reduced to pawns in geopolitical games. The manipulation of identity and the exploitation of vulnerability all serve to strengthen the grip of the powerful, who thrive on division, dissent, and distraction.
It raises an uncomfortable question: how much longer can we tolerate this ceaseless cycle of oppression and exploitation? How long before we begin to understand that the struggles of marginalised communities — whether in the United States, Bangladesh, or elsewhere — are not isolated incidents but part of a larger global structure of inequality?
There is a deeper challenge here: the need to confront the systems that sustain this inequality. In Bangladesh, for example, the political use of minority communities to further external interests only deepens the internal divides. The same pattern is evident in the United States, where divisive rhetoric has turned marginalised communities into objects of political exploitation. Both cases reveal a common truth: minorities are manipulated, and their plight is reframed to serve the interests of the powerful.
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US: promises, betrayals and machinery of fear
IN THE United States, minorities, particularly Muslims, have long been caught in a system that oscillates between false hope and blatant betrayal. The rise of Trump has only thrown this dynamic into sharper relief, revealing a system that thrives on division and fear. His rhetoric — brazen and unapologetic — laid bare what the American establishment has long tried to obscure: that the rights of minorities are always conditional, always expendable when power is at stake.Ìý
Muslims in America know this intimately. They have seen the surveillance, the ‘Muslim ban,’ the erasure of their dignity. They have heard the war cries thinly veiled as foreign policy — Palestine abandoned, Gaza brutalised, and imperialism cloaked as diplomacy. And yet, in places like Dearborn, Michigan, we see a paradox. Disillusioned by the Democratic Party’s endless cycle of broken promises, Arab and Muslim voters turned to Trump — a man whose policies have harmed them deeply — not because they believed in him but because he represented a rejection of the hollow gestures of liberal politics. A desperate, strategic act of protest, though one that underscores just how precarious their position truly is.
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Bangladesh: puppets, strings and geopolitical games
BANGLADESH’S minority story is no less tragic, though its contours are shaped by a different history and geography. Here, the spectre of India looms large — a self-proclaimed regional benefactor whose interventions are rarely benevolent. India’s ‘minority card’ is a tool, a justification for its hegemonic ambitions, not a genuine effort to protect the vulnerable.Ìý
The involvement of organisations like ISKCON and the Bangladesh Hindu, Buddhist, and Christian Unity Council is telling. These groups, ostensibly champions of minority rights, often serve as levers for foreign influence. Their actions deepen sectarian divides and reduce minorities to mere pawns in a regional power struggle, their dignity eroded, their autonomy sacrificed.Ìý
Recent political upheavals in Bangladesh have exposed these dynamics starkly. Minorities, caught in the crossfire of external interference and internal failures, find themselves further fragmented, their identities weaponised to serve someone else’s agenda.Ìý
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Global blueprint for oppression
WHAT connects these two narratives — the United States and Bangladesh — is not coincidence but a global machinery designed to perpetuate inequality. Nationalist and populist movements, emboldened by their own insecurities, scapegoat minorities to distract from the broader rot of systemic injustice. In America, the ‘Muslim threat’ sustains imperialist ambitions abroad while keeping xenophobia alive and well at home. In Bangladesh, the façade of ‘protecting minorities’ is a convenient mask for India’s regional dominance.Ìý
This isn’t an accidental feature of our world; it is the very foundation of the system. The powerful rely on the fractures of society, on the divisions between religion, ethnicity, and identity to maintain their grip.Ìý
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Unyielding power of the marginalised
AND yet, minorities are not without strength. In America, Muslims and other marginalised groups are organising, resisting, and demanding accountability. They are refusing to let their stories be rewritten by those in power. In Bangladesh, the seeds of unity exist — hidden, perhaps, under layers of sectarian strife — but they are there, waiting to be cultivated.Ìý
This is the great fear of the ruling elite: the realisation that minorities, fractured and oppressed as they are, might see their struggles as interconnected, their power as collective. That they might reject the stories imposed upon them and write their own. That they might transform their vulnerability into defiance, their oppression into a revolution of solidarity.Ìý
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Reckoning
THE question, then, is not whether these systems of power will be challenged. It is whether the challenge will come soon enough, before the machinery of exploitation crushes even the possibility of resistance. The stakes could not be higher.Ìý
Minorities are not just the victims of this world; they are its authors-in-waiting. They carry within them the potential to dismantle the structures that oppress them. They are not just the sum of their suffering; they are the architects of something new, something just, something that could be extraordinary. But only if we choose to listen to them. Only if we refuse to let their voices be drowned out by the roar of the powerful.
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Towards solidarity and justice
THE path forward isn’t just about dismantling oppressive systems but about questioning the very foundations that uphold them — structures designed to maintain inequality and centralise power. In the United States, this means confronting a political system dominated by militarism and corporate interests that neglect the needs of marginalised communities in favour of expanding military budgets and corporate profits.
In Bangladesh, the struggle is twofold — resisting external interference while also addressing internal dysfunctions that hinder democratic governance. The state must prioritise transparency and accountability, moving beyond political theatre to create a system that serves the people, not foreign powers or corporate elites.
Real progress requires more than resistance; it demands solidarity across borders, understanding that the oppression of minorities in one region is connected to global systems of exploitation. To dismantle these structures, we must recognize our shared struggles and confront the forces that perpetuate inequality.
The stakes are immense. Without collective action to challenge these systems, the voices of the oppressed will continue to be silenced, and global inequalities will worsen. However, there is hope. If marginalised communities unite as active agents of change, they can dismantle the systems that oppress them. Minorities are not passive subjects but resistance builders capable of transforming society.
This is not naive optimism but a recognition of the power within these communities. If they can overcome imposed divisions, they can create a society rooted in equity and justice. The real question is whether we have the courage to act on this potential, to confront the forces that sustain exploitation and oppression.
The fight for justice is a fight against power structures that thrive on division and violence. To overcome them, we need more than words; we need a fundamental shift in how power is understood and organised. A shift towards a just, democratic society that honours human dignity for all. The time to act is now.
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Abdul Monaiem Kudrot Ullah is a retired captain of the Bangladesh navy and an adjunct faculty member of a private university.
