Violent student-led, Islamist-backed protests in Bangladesh have toppled Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina's government, and mob attacks targeting those viewed as supporters of her secular Awami League party -- in particular, the country's dwindling Hindu minority -- are proliferating. At a time when neighbouring Myanmar is engulfed in violence and the Pakistan-Afghanistan belt remains fertile ground for cross-border terrorism, political upheaval in Bangladesh, two years after the overthrow of Sri Lanka's government, is the last thing India, the regional power, needs.
Achieving lasting political stability in South Asia would require entrenching democracy. But this is no easy feat. India notwithstanding, the region remains in thrall to longstanding autocratic traditions and centralisation of power. Ms Hasina, for example, had become autocratic during her more than 15 years in office. In this context, popular demands for democracy are far more likely to lead to violence and political chaos than to smooth political transitions.
As Ms Hasina has shown, autocratic leaders do not necessarily survive popular challenges to their rule. Consider the chaos that engulfed Sri Lanka in 2022, when a severe economic crisis triggered mass protests against the Rajapaksa brothers' dynastic, un-democratic regime. Though President Gotabaya Rajapaksa, like Ms Hasina, initially unleashed a violent crackdown, his opponents proved too powerful. Like Ms Hasina, he gave up and fled the country, without even formally resigning. Sri Lankan protesters then occupied the presidential palace, much as Bangladeshi mobs have ransacked Ms Hasina's sprawling official residence.
But when an autocrat is toppled, it is often the military -- not a democratic government -- that takes over, even if behind a civilian facade. Bangladesh is no exception. The military has attempted at least two dozen coups since the country's birth in 1971, and ruled for some extended periods since its 1975 assassination of Bangladesh's charismatic founding leader, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman.
Ms Hasina, Rahman's daughter, stood out for her success at keeping the military (and Islamists) in check, at least until last week, when the army chief refused to continue supporting her crackdown on rampaging protesters. The military then facilitated her escape to India and established an interim government of civilian "advisers" who have little experience with national issues.
To be sure, some South Asian countries have made some progress towards democracy. In particular, Bhutan's democratic transition is proceeding apace, thanks to a benevolent king who has supported the transition from a traditional monarchy to a parliamentary system. Earlier this year, its fourth national election brought an opposition party to power.
But elections alone do not guarantee popular empowerment or adherence to constitutional rules, especially when the military holds decisive power. Consider Pakistan, which held elections earlier this year. The military's preferred candidate, Shehbaz Sharif, returned as prime minister, but his government will survive only at the pleasure of the country's effective ruler, the army chief. Until the rule of law is firmly entrenched and those wielding extra-constitutional power are unequivocally reined in, democratic progress will remain limited and reversible.
Myanmar learned this the hard way. Though the military had called the shots in the country since independence in 1948, it began ceding power to a nascent civilian government in 2015, filling the country with hope for a democratic future. But in February 2021 -- barely six years later -- it staged a coup. This time, however, resistance has proved intense, and heavily armed insurgent groups -- some receiving "non-lethal aid" from the United States -- are managing to expand their territorial control. In response, the military junta has stepped up punitive air strikes and artillery barrages.
The violence and deepening humanitarian crisis are fuelling instability beyond Myanmar's borders. Already, more than 32,000 ethnic Chin have sought refuge in India's Mizoram state, and thousands more have fled to Manipur state, where their arrival has stoked ethnic conflict. And it is not just the Chin: India is also home to millions of illegal immigrants from Bangladesh, whose ranks are set to grow as desperate Hindus flee Islamist attacks against them.
When it comes to security risks, immigration is just the beginning. Political turbulence in the Maldives -- which began in 2012, when Islamist radicals forced the country's democratically elected president to resign at gunpoint -- has enabled China to gain a foothold in India's maritime backyard. This year, China signed a military pact with the Maldives and docked a giant marine research ship in a Maldivian port. Meanwhile, Islamist radicals are expanding their grassroots base, establishing Isis and al-Qaeda cells on the archipelago.
Mounting economic pressures compound security risks. Pakistan has repeatedly sought International Monetary Fund bailouts in recent years. And Ms Hasina's overthrow could usher in hard times for the once-booming Bangladeshi economy, as the country's foreign reserves dwindle rapidly. None of this is conducive to regional prosperity. As long as South Asian countries remain plagued by political instability, strong and sustainable economic growth will be elusive. The difficulty of maintaining political stability and advancing democratization can also be seen in Nepal -- a country with which India has close cultural and historical ties. Last month, the country swore in its 14th government in just 16 years, led by four-time prime minister, K P Sharma Oli, of the pro-China Marxist-Leninist Party. Oli, who spent years in jail in the 1970s and 1980s for waging war against the state, is Nepal's fifth head of government in five years, having replaced another former communist guerrilla, Pushpa Kamal Dahal.
All of this puts India, the world's largest democracy and South Asia's geographical hub, in a difficult situation. It must minimise the spillover effects of political and economic instability in its neighbourhood, even as it continues to seek economic and strategic partnerships far beyond its troubled region. ©2024 Project Syndicate
Brahma Chellaney, Professor Emeritus of Strategic Studies at the New Delhi-based Center for Policy Research and Fellow at the Robert Bosch Academy in Berlin, is the author of Water, Peace, and War: Confronting the Global Water Crisis (Rowman & Littlefield, 2013).