Dependency by design?

Was Bangladesh's reliance on Indian transhipment inevitable - or did it unfold from failures that could, and perhaps should, have been foreseen and averted? More provocatively: was this dependency merely a by-product of internal inelasticity caused by shortcomings, or a consequence of strategic passivity enabled by Bangladesh's then political alignment with India? These questions matter because they lie at the heart of our policy expertise, political will, national sovereignty, and economic competitiveness.

For several years, India facilitated transhipment of Bangladeshi goods - by land, rail, sea, and even air - to destinations like Nepal, Bhutan, Myanmar, and some parts of Europe. This may seem like a win-win to some, but this surface-level convenience conceals deeper vulnerabilities. How did we end up depending on a not-so-neighbourly neighbour, however friendly presented at the time, for something as foundational as trade access and supply chain movement?

There were several signs visible as early as the 1990s, and especially right from the beginning of the following decade that Bangladesh would need upgraded trade logistics, diversified connectivity, and regional transport cooperation. But the successive governments either underestimated the urgency, over-politicised regional cooperation, or failed to invest early enough in required infrastructure and trade facilitation. So, let's be clear: transhipment through India became necessary not because Bangladesh lacked options, but because it failed to develop and diversify those options in time.

Take ports, for example. Chattogram Port was showing signs of congestion since the early 2000s. Exporters complained of costly delays; global buyers worried about reliability, and reports from the World Bank and domestic think tanks issued repeated warnings. But what happened? The long-envisioned deep-sea port at Sonadia was shelved, reportedly due to Indian discomfort with Chinese involvement in the process and instead, Matarbari's plan was cleared with Japanese backing, which remains under construction. Meanwhile, India modernised Haldia and Kolkata and waited.

Again, despite being the second-largest RMG exporter in the world, Bangladesh's air cargo infrastructure lagged far behind. Considering the country's export basket, the airport cold chains were substandard, logistics were inefficient, and the capacity to ship by air is still minimal. And, investment decisions were not fast or sizeable enough to fix that, while neighbouring economies raced ahead in cargo competitiveness. Some will argue: well, maybe Bangladesh just did not have the resources then.

But this is not a story of capacity, it is of prioritisation. Because the government, especially under the Awami League since 2009, though focused overwhelmingly on increasing exports, failed to recognise how those exports move. While the bureaucracy kept hitting numbers, infrastructure fell behind. The Ministry of Commerce sets goals, but the Ministry of Shipping delayed reforms, and logistical modernity remained buried, glossed over by national plans to promote exports. And that lack of attention led to predictable outcomes - congestion, delay, and loss of competitiveness.

So, when India came offering the transhipment options, ready-built and waiting, it did not need to be coercion - it was packaged convenience. Which leads us to the political question: did Bangladesh's lack of preparation serve Indian interests? On the one hand, it would be naive to blatantly suggest that India orchestrated this outcome, but on the other hand, it would be equally naive to pretend that India did not benefit from Bangladesh's inactivity, or that the Awami League's slippery slope of foreign policy tilts played no role. Having repeated opportunities to establish mechanisms to reach Nepal and Bhutan, deepen ties with China and Myanmar, or at least diversify our transit channels, these did not materialise from the fear of offending India, or the desire to remain in Delhi's good books. Meaning, such moves was either delayed, diluted, or diplomatically downplayed.

In fact, arguably the very absence of urgency in developing sovereign infrastructure was a form of 'strategic myopia'. A silent calculus. Why spend billions and test foreign relations when India is right there, cheering the inertia and opening its gates? But naturally, for sovereigns, dependency once formed, does not stay economic. It becomes political. And, so it became. It narrowed Bangladesh's room to manoeuvre, especially in times of regional tension.

Though the situation is now being addressed, and Bangladesh is investing in Matarbari, exploring multimodal transport, and improving customs systems, these efforts are reactive, not visionary. They come after the costs of dependence have already been absorbed.

Looking back, the signs were clear from the demand side - port warnings, export congestion, air cargo delays, asymmetrical infrastructure etc. And in the market, too, there were signs - growing exports, shifting geopolitics, rising regionalism etc. But the supply side- government - ignored or downplayed until crisis, competition, and congestion forced action. Yet they were not treated with the seriousness they demanded. And this strategic myopia led us to a place where transhipment through India was not a choice, but a necessity, does not matter whether it was negligence or quiet alignment.

So, the lesson here is this: in international trade and/ or geopolitics, failure to prepare often translates into dependence. The true cost of not investing in infrastructure is not just lost time or money, it's lost leverage. Bangladesh must catch up now and do so not just for efficiency, but for autonomy. Because no matter how friendly any partner is, sovereignty should never be routed through someone else's corridor.

Hossain Mohammed Omar Khayum is development economist and policy researcher at the crossroads of history, morality and pragmatism.

hmomarkhayum@gmail.com