In the wake of the seismic political shifts of August 2024, Bangladesh finds itself at a crossroads, once again debating the soul of its national identity. For decades, we have been told our public life is a tug-of-war between two irreconcilable forces: a secular Bengali nationalism and a religious Islamic identity. But if we look beyond our borders to how Bangladesh actually behaves on the world stage, this divide begins to dissolve.
Whether under military rule or civilian democracy, a silent compass has consistently guided our hand in global affairs: the concept of the Ummah, the global community of Muslim believers. Far from being just a matter of personal faith, this "Islamic identity" has been one of the most effective tools in our diplomatic toolbox. It is time we recognize that our commitment to the Muslim world is not just about sentiment-it is about survival, legitimacy, and strategic common sense.
The story of our foreign policy is often misread as a sudden turn toward religion in the late 1970s. In reality, the pivot began much earlier, born of necessity. Following the traumatic birth of our nation in 1971, Bangladesh faced a cold reception from many Muslim-majority states that remained close to Pakistan.
A Journey of Pragmatism: The story of our foreign policy is often misread as a sudden turn toward religion in the late 1970s. In reality, the pivot began much earlier, born of necessity. Following the traumatic birth of our nation in 1971, Bangladesh faced a cold reception from many Muslim-majority states that remained close to Pakistan.
It was Sheikh Mujibur Rahman-the architect of country's first original secular constitution-who realized that Bangladesh could not afford to be an island in the Global South. By attending the 1974 OIC conference in Lahore, he signaled a profound truth: our national interest is inextricably linked to our Muslim identity. That single move opened doors to the Middle East that remain open today, proving that even a secular state must speak the language of the Ummah to secure its place in the world. Mujib, who created a secular constitution and prohibited religion-based politics, ironically turned to religion to address the legitimacy crisis in his later years of rule.
The Tool of Legitimacy: Since those early days, every leader has used Islamic solidarity as a form of "political currency." When domestic tensions rise, or a regime faces questions of legitimacy at home, it turns to the global stage to burnish its Islamic credentials.
Think of our unwavering stance on Palestine. While our relationships with Western powers or regional neighbors may fluctuate, our support for the Palestinian cause remains a "red line." Why? It serves as a powerful moral vocabulary that resonates with 90 percent of our population. It allows leaders to say, "We are with you," without changing a single domestic policy. This is what we call "instrumentalized solidarity"-using the shared symbols of Islam to build a bridge between the government's actions and the people's values.
The Economic Anchor: We must also be clear-eyed about the "pull factors" of this identity. Our relationship with the Muslim world is the lifeblood of our economy. Today, more than 50 percent of the remittances that keep our foreign reserves afloat come from Muslim-majority countries in the Gulf. From the United Arab Emirates to Saudi Arabia, millions of Bangladeshi workers are not just laborers; they are the human embodiment of our transnational links.
No government in Dhaka can afford to ignore this reality. Our diplomacy in the Middle East is not just about high-level summits; it is about protecting the livelihoods of millions of families in our villages. When we frame our foreign policy in terms of the Muslim Brotherhood, we are creating a protective shell around these vital economic interests.
Beyond the Language: In academic circles, we talk about "pathways" and "normative frameworks." Nevertheless, for the citizen on the street, it is much simpler. It is about the pride of seeing a Bangladeshi leader stand up for the Rohingya-a persecuted Muslim minority-or the collective sense of belonging when we join the OIC to discuss the future of the youth.
This identity functions as a "structural anchor." It is embedded in our laws and our institutions. Even when secularism was restored to our constitution, the recognition of Islam as the state religion remained. This is not a contradiction; it is a reflection of our unique hybridity. We are a nation that is both proudly Bengali and deeply connected to the global Muslim community.
The Way Forward: As we navigate a new era of governance, we must stop treating Islamic identity as a political football to be used by one party against another. Instead, we should embrace it as a strategic asset. In a world where middle powers are struggling to find their voice, our membership in the Ummah gives us a seat at a very large table.
The challenge for the next generation of diplomats and leaders is to use this identity with even more sophistication. We must move beyond purely symbolic gestures and use our standing in the Muslim world to lead on issues like climate justice, economic migration, and regional peace.
Bangladesh's place in the world is not defined by a choice between "East" or "West," "Secular" or "Religious." It is defined by our ability to be both. The Ummah is not a shackle on our progress; it is the wind in our sails. If we can navigate this identity with pragmatism and principle, Bangladesh will not just be a follower in the Global South-it will be a leader.
The writer is affiliated with the Department of Political Science, National University Bangladesh
