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The recent GenZ protests in Nepal caused profound political changes in Nepal, including the resignation of Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli, dissolution of Parliament, and appointment of former Chief Justice of Nepal Supreme Court, Sushila Karki, as interim Prime Minister. Nevertheless, the process is far from complete, as the President has announced 5 March 2026 to be the date of the next general elections. It will be interesting to note what kind of reform the interim Prime Minister will be taking, which may be added once the new parliament is constituted. It will also call for constitutional reforms in Nepal, which has been a foremost demand of GenZ protestors. In light of these changes, it is essential to stocktake the journey of constitutional reforms that Nepal has taken in the past seven to eight decades, and what the friction points were back then. 

Nepal’s constitutional journey since the 1940s reads less like a tidy sequence of institutional reforms and more like a long, uneven negotiations over where sovereignty should sit and what it should look like. King or people. Party or palace. Kathmandu or the Tarai. Hill heartland or the periphery. Each text, from the first experiments under the Ranas to the 2015 charter and beyond, is a record of bargains struck and bargains deferred. To understand why Nepal is once again on the verge of serious change after a youth-led uprising, we need to trace how these bargains have shifted, which problems were solved, and which were simply moved down the road.

The starting point is the late Rana rule. Under pressure at home and from winds blowing across the subcontinent, Prime Minister Padma Shumsher announced constitutional reforms in the late 1940s. The Government of Nepal Constitution Act of 1948 floated the idea of a bicameral legislature and ministerial responsibility. It was carefully drafted. Selection powers sat with the prime minister, and the edifice rested on executive discretion. Still, it broke a tradition by acknowledging that state power might be shared. That act was followed by the Interim Government of Nepal Act of 1951, issued as the Rana oligarchy fell and a broad coalition ushered in a constitutional monarchy and multiparty politics. The 1951 text listed civil liberties, set out a provisional institutional design, and promised a fuller democratic settlement to come. It also carried the first seed of a recurring problem: lofty rights were planted in thin soil. Institutions to protect them were weak, and the balance between palace and parties was unsettled.

The 1959 Constitution tried to make good on the promise. Nepal held its first general elections. BP Koirala became the first democratically elected prime minister. For a moment, parliamentary democracy had a constitutional home. Alas, it did not last. In December 1960, King Mahendra dismissed the government, jailed elected leaders, and moved the country into a partyless Panchayat system. The 1962 Constitution codified the Panchayat system, concentrating sovereignty in the crown and constructing a pyramidal set of assemblies that were consultative in form and royalist in effect. This was not an aberration but a full constitutional project. It sought to bring nationhood, religion, and monarchy into a single frame and to define politics as social harmony under royal guardianship. Its longevity came from that ideological glue; its undoing came from the same source when economic change, social mobility, and a rising political class found the frame too tight.

The popular movement of 1990 was the first decisive mass amendment to that project. The protest forced a bargain. The palace would remain, but power would flow through elected institutions. The 1990 Constitution restored multiparty democracy, expanded fundamental rights, and set up an independent judiciary. It looked European in design, and for a while, it delivered plural politics. Yet the monarchy still held reserve powers. Identity-based claims were largely absorbed into the language of national unity rather than represented as constitutional pluralism. Federalism was absent. These omissions did not cause the insurgency that began in 1996, but they certainly narrowed the channels through which socioeconomic grievances and peripheral voices could be routed into policy. The palace’s 2005 coup temporarily snapped even the 1990 compromise, convincing many that a constitutional monarchy could never be safely caged.

The 2006 people’s movement broke the last link. The 2007 Interim Constitution disempowered the king and reoriented the state toward an elected sovereign Constituent Assembly. When the monarchy was abolished in 2008, it was less a leap into republicanism than an acceptance that the 1990 dualism had failed. From that point forward, legitimacy would be negotiated not between palace and parties but within a widening circle of political and social actors: Maoists now in suits, Madhesi parties galvanized by long exclusion, indigenous nationalities, women’s movements, and a younger generation that had grown up inside conflict and transition. The first Constituent Assembly collapsed under the weight of that diversity. The second produced the 2015 Constitution, a republican, federal, secular settlement that promised inclusion, proportional representation, and a new map of provinces. It was a bold step, but once again, some bargains were patched rather than resolved.

Two pressures immediately exposed those seams. The first was identity and representation. Many Madhesi and Tharu groups protested that the federal boundaries and electoral formulae diluted their political weight. Protests in the plains and a crippling impediment to cross-border trade followed. The new constitution’s legitimacy arrived with a caveat attached. Kathmandu amended the text on proportional inclusion and constituency delineation, but the deeper question, whether federal design tracks social geography closely enough to make people feel represented, was left for politics to answer. It still has not. The second pressure was state capacity under stress. The 2015 earthquake devastated infrastructure and livelihoods. A new federal republic with developing democratic institutions was suddenly tasked to deliver large-scale reconstruction, manage competing party interests across new provincial layers, and keep the economy afloat. The constitution’s promise of devolution and local empowerment was good, but the administrative reforms could not pick up the pace. This gap between constitutional aspiration and everyday governance seeded the frustration that now fuels youth anger: a sense that no matter which coalition takes Singha Durbar, services remain patchy, jobs scarce, and integrity negotiable.

Since 2015, constitutional politics has not rested. A 2022–23 set of amendments eased pathways for citizenship by descent for children of those who held citizenship by birth, and opened a narrow door for non-resident citizenship without political rights. Each change eased one pressure while stirring another. That pattern, addressing the immediate grievance and postponing the structural fix, has been the through-line of the last decade.

With this grand rupture, what can be expected from the constitutional positioning of new political actors is a timely question that needs to be asked. How federal should the state be? What mix of electoral system and party democracy can ensure accountability? How can conflicts of interest be managed in a political sphere where networks are tight and incentives distorted? These are some essential questions that the new democratic political elite of Nepal will be dealing with for quite some time. Nevertheless, in the opinion of this author, the 2015 constitution provides a good roadmap with some recalibrations to work upon, more importantly, in the areas of safeguarding human and digital rights. Along with this, a serious approach needs to be taken to tackle corruption by developing more constitutional checks and balances. Nevertheless, it also needs to be kept in mind that constitutional and legal reforms need to be done in parallel with overhauling already existing institutions as well as serious bureaucratic and institutional reforms; only then can long-term stability be achieved. 

The global geopolitical stage has been rocked with multiple events, protracted theaters of conflict, and competing interests between different actors. At this time, the rapprochement and de-escalation between the two Asian giants, who have been otherwise seen as competitors and rivals, needs to be studied cautiously. The ties between two of the world’s largest economies went haywire after the clashes along the India-China border during the height of the Covid-19 pandemic in 2020. It caused loss of lives to both sides, causing fundamental alteration in the ties between the two nations. 

After disengagement from the last friction point, namely the Patrolling Point 15 in the Gogra-Hot Springs area in 2022, a hope of fragile calm in that region was expected. It needs to be noted that it is not the return of the pre-2020 status quo ante. But there has been an update since last October as both countries are actively pursuing to deescalate their border tensions and resuming some bilateral ties. There have been visits by the officials of both countries, including the Foreign Minister, Defence Minister and National Security Advisors. There is a resumption of flights after a gap of five years, re-opening of the Kailash Mansarovar pilgrimage and lifting of import ban on fertilizers, rare earth metals, and tunnel machines are all part of this new deal. 

Whatever transpires in 2024-25 is a tentative, at most a fragile change. After the visit of the Chinese Foreign Minister Wang Yi to New Delhi in August 2025, where he met Prime Minister Modi, External Affairs Minister Jaishankar and National Security Advisor Doval, all agreed on the modalities of patrolling the borders, relaxation of Visa regimes, and possible opening of trade corridors. It is of some significance that this is the first meeting Prime Minister Modi will have had in seven years; his visit to meet Xi Jinping at the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation (SCO) summit in Tianjin.

Nevertheless, all these measures do not indicate the resolution of the inherent conflicts. Border regulation systems are confidence-building measures and not solutions. India continues to raise objections to the CPEC, which passes through Kashmir, and the build-up of Chinese infrastructure along the LAC, among other factors, is bound to keep the mistrust tethered. 

In the Chinese view, the major strategic motivation of this rapprochement is the multifaceted and growing rivalry with the United States. China has expressed this through its foreign policy that is highly oriented toward its east coast, especially with the strained relationships with Taiwan and the South China Sea as well as the technology conflict with the United States. A constantly war-like border of hot troops with India, a country of increasing might, is an expensive and risky strategic distraction. The possibility of an accidental escalation might spell out a disastrous two-front scenario to Beijing, requiring it to divert its military and diplomatic resources. 

Such a Chinese strategic outlook over time has demonstrated as scholar Yun Sun has described, stabilizing relations on one front to free up resources and attention to a more urgent theater. This renewed thaw with India is a sensible de-risking policy, which will help Beijing in reducing the risk of war toward its western flank and redeploy its resources in the central arena of its standoff with the US and its allies. This is also a tactical thrust toward undermining the already existing Western rhetoric of a lone and threatening China, being surrounded by a complete coalition of democratic nations.

To India, the practical effect is a reprieve and a powerful endorsement of its diplomacy. On a pragmatic level, the military and economic burdens of the standoff have been enormous, and the de-escalation of direct tensions enables the government to concentrate on economic recovery and its long-term program of military modernisation. 

On a diplomatic level, the biggest achievement is the endorsement of its valued principle of strategic autonomy. This detente is not an isolated bilateral phenomenon but is directly tied to the changing geopolitical environment, specifically tensions with the United States. It must be noted that the defrosting is occurring against a background of what many consider to be the worst period in Indian relations with the US executive in decades. The imposition of high tariffs on Indian products by the Trump administration in the US has revealed the shortcomings of a relationship that was being marketed as a counterweight to China. 

In this regard, China has already expressed its discontent with the tariffs and underscored the importance of collaboration between the two Asian powerhouses against unilateral bullying. This has given a strategic leverage that Beijing has seized upon. Engaging with China, New Delhi plays to its partners in the Quad that the application is not an unconditional commitment against any one nation but a collaboration founded in mutual interests in the Indo-Pacific. This stance empowers India by demonstrating that it can juggle its complicated relationship with China in its own way, making it an independent and dominant power.

Among the strategic questions that the thaw poses and mostly depends upon is whether China would re-evaluate its Pakistan policy. Islamabad is vacillating once again between Beijing and Washington. On the one hand, it has inaugurated CPEC Phase 2, pursuing higher Chinese investment in infrastructure. 

On the other, it is renewing contacts with Washington, where Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif has overtly solicited US investments and is executing diplomatic overtures to the Trump administration. Pakistan, however, would always be an essential ally to Beijing: a strategic partner, a corridor to the Arabian Sea and a warm client to export arms and finance. China is the major source of Pakistani imports of arms and rollover loans continue to be a major source of fiscal stability in Islamabad. It is due to this factor alone that there can be no likelihood of Beijing weakening its strategic commitment. 

Optics may, however, change. Such a cautious rapprochement with India does not imply that China will give up Pakistan. The most plausible is that of policy dualism, where China is to remain good friends with Islamabad and chooses to accept a limited cooperation dimension with New Delhi. This reflects its longstanding capacity to compartmentalize: advancing economic relations with India at the same time as keeping closer defence relations with Pakistan.

With a relative calm on its northern frontier, India will have time for maneuvering the bumpy roads of Trump’s foreign policy. The US’ strategic interest in India beyond Trump is a strong, independent India capable of anchoring regional stability. A stable border allows India to focus its resources and strategic attention on the broader Indo-Pacific, directly aligning with US goals. Crucially, it proves the US-India relationship is non-transactional and not solely defined by the current geopolitical rejig. Prime Minister Modi’s proposed visit to China and its outcomes are likely to define or redefine the limits and potential of this thaw.

The author is a PhD Candidate at the School of International Studies, Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi

India and Nepal share a long and open border stretched across five Indian states of Uttarakhand, Uttar Pradesh, Bihar, West Bengal and Sikkim. On Nepal’s side, Madhesh, Koshi, Bagmati, Lumbini and Sudurpaschim touch India’s border. A mix of Himalayan hills and Tarai marks up the geography of its open borders, effective since 1950. Indian paramilitary force Shashatra Seema Bal (SSB) guards these borders from the Indian side while the Armed Police Force (APF) of Nepal guards Nepal’s side. Barring some contention, the India-Nepal open border has served its purpose effectively, whether it is keeping the tradition of Roti-Beti alive or contributing to the economies of both countries. Open borders also kept the bioregion of the Himalayas intact, whose impact is visible on the flora and fauna between the borders. 

Nevertheless, for states, security is a non-negotiable, as is the question of the security of open and porous borders and people living around and beyond them. India has been a victim of terrorism for a very long time, and Nepal also has been a victim of organized violence for decades. In 2020, during diplomatic tensions, Prime Minister K P Sharma Oli backed India’s call for a standard definition of terrorism during the UNGA. Five years down the line, we do not have a standard comprehensive convention against international terrorism, which rocked South Asia two months back in Pahalgam. India and Nepal have an extradition treaty, and the political elites and intellectuals see the border security with grave concern. 

However, there are growing anxieties from both sides about illegal migration. Elites in Kathmandu point out the illegal migration coming from India, while India also occasionally finds people from Myanmar and Bangladesh on the border regions with Nepal. There has also been a growing movement of countries from the Gulf and Turkey promoting their specific ways of Islam through many organizations in the Tarai region of Nepal, which is home to the majority of the Muslim population of the country. The mushrooming of many infrastructure projects backed by Turkey near the border areas needs closer scrutiny. The Turkish NGO Foundation for Human Rights and Freedoms and Humanitarian Relief (IHH) has been flagged by Indian agencies as an entity of concern. Many reports in Indian as well as Nepali media from time to time report the activities of this organisation working with the Islamic Sangh Nepal as a security threat to both nations. A recently-released report has flagged specific concerns in India. 

After Operation Sindoor and Turkey’s open support to Pakistan in the same, Turkey and Pakistan are being viewed by India as security threats. This is why these new developments in the border regions of both countries are being viewed cautiously. It is also worth noting here that Indian anxieties over these developments are not only part of rhetoric, but India has faced multiple security risks, most notably the IC-814 hijacking and the fake Indian currencies printed with the help of Pakistan’s ISI. They have also used the traditional criminal networks between India and Nepal to further their means. Well-documented sources suggest that ISI has used Nepali soil to harm India since the 1980s. It has also harmed Nepal, as the country is currently on the FATF’s grey list due to ‘deficiencies in anti-money laundering (AML) and counter-terrorist financing (CFT) regimes.’ Terrorists and financiers use any loopholes in any country to achieve their end results. The Nepal government, however, has taken the list very seriously, and the officials are working to remove the country from the list. 

If we look at the Turkish involvement in this already complex scenario, which is constantly working in tandem with Pakistan, it fuels more of India’s anxieties. There are multiple infrastructure projects IHH is taking with other organizations in the Tarai region, making up a thorny issue for Indian agencies. IHH’s record also backs these issues, as the organization has been accused of planning a bombing in Los Angeles in 1999 and is said to have ties with Al Qaeda. Many international agencies also flagged their concern about IHH, which is also known to support Erdogan and is said to have close relations with the Turkish government. 

In this context, the broader border security arrangements between India and Nepal need to be examined. The India-Nepal open border stands today at the intersection of tradition and shifting geopolitics. As external actors with divergent strategic ambitions insert themselves into the region, the onus is on India and Nepal to jointly future-proof the border against vulnerabilities that neither side can tackle alone. The task is straightforward: border management must evolve from merely guarding physical space to understanding and disrupting transnational networks that exploit social, religious and financial channels.

This calls for institutionalised cooperation, not just between security agencies, but also through shared platforms for intelligence, financial scrutiny and civic engagement along the border regions. A proactive approach would also mean enhancing community resilience in the Tarai and adjoining areas, ensuring that developmental gaps are not filled by opaque foreign entities with unclear agendas. Both governments can explore structured dialogues at the level of home ministries and central banks to counter emerging threats like terror financing and ideological radicalisation. At stake is not just bilateral security, but the health of the broader Himalayan bioregion, where open borders have historically sustained both people-to-people ties and ecological continuity. Preserving this openness while safeguarding sovereignty will require vigilance, trust-building and a strategic alignment that reflects the realities of an interconnected and contested neighborhood. India and Nepal have the history, goodwill and institutional frameworks to achieve this; what is needed now is the political will to update and act on them with clarity and foresight.

The author is a PhD Candidate at the School of International Studies, JNU, New Delhi

In a turbulent world where a polycrisis looms—from Ukraine to Iran—hot conflicts remain unresolved through diplomacy, and the developed world shows fractures, as seen in the recent G7 summit in Canada, multilateral efforts are withering. A rare exception is European unity in the Ukraine conflict. Against this backdrop, cooperation in South Asia becomes especially noteworthy, particularly given that nuclear-armed neighbors India and Pakistan were on the brink of war after the terror attacks in Kashmir’s Pahalgam.

Amid these tensions, a positive development emerges. Nepal has begun supplying 40 megawatts (MW) of electricity to Bangladesh via India. This is a significant step for one of the world’s least interconnected regions. But why is this a crucial milestone in South Asia’s energy landscape?

South Asia is undergoing an energy transition. India, the world’s third-largest power consumer, saw peak demand reach 250 GW this year, with projections suggesting 458 GW by 2032. Bangladesh’s peak demand is nearing 16,000 MW and is expected to exceed 34,000 MW by 2030. As India expands its renewable energy capacity and Bangladesh shifts from gas and coal, both countries are increasingly turning to cross-border power exchanges to supplement domestic supply.

Nepal and Bhutan represent untapped potential. The Himalayan nations possess hydropower capacities of 40,000 MW and 30,000 MW, respectively, yet less than 10 percent has been harnessed. With proper infrastructure, they could become the region’s clean energy reservoirs.

The feasibility of power trading hinges on infrastructure, where quiet but meaningful progress has been made. Since 2016, the Nepal–India Dhalkebar–Muzaffarpur 400 kV line has enabled Nepal to export electricity to India. The recent Nepal-Bangladesh power transfer utilized this line, routing through India’s eastern grid via the HVDC Baharampur–Bheramara link.

BIMSTEC has sought to capitalize on this momentum. Its Grid Interconnection Master Plan, developed with ADB support and approved in 2018, outlines technical strategies for an integrated electricity market. The Energy Centre in Bengaluru, envisioned as a BIMSTEC knowledge hub, is expected to foster policy alignment and trade facilitation.

Yet BIMSTEC remains institutionally weak. While the recent trilateral power exchange occurred within its territory, it was not coordinated by BIMSTEC itself,  which is a critical distinction. Unlike the EU’s energy union or Africa’s Power Pools, BIMSTEC lacks a formal regulatory framework for energy trade. There is no central market operator, no unified dispute mechanism, and no standardized tariff system. Without a dedicated trading platform, transactions rely on bilateral deals, contingent on India’s willingness to facilitate them.

This model has worked so far, but its scalability is uncertain. As new projects like Bhutan’s Sunkosh and Nepal’s Arun-IV come online, challenges around pricing, grid stability, and regional capacity planning will grow. A regional market cannot thrive indefinitely on ad-hoc bilateral agreements.

Political commitment within BIMSTEC is also uneven. While India, Nepal, and Bangladesh have made progress, members like Myanmar and Sri Lanka remain peripheral to energy discussions, and Thailand’s involvement has been largely rhetorical.

A multilateral institutional framework is needed—not just for regulation but also to develop infrastructure, from unlocking Himalayan hydropower to building a shared grid. It could also create an integrated market for surplus power. However, this requires sustained engagement. BIMSTEC could learn from ASEAN, where economic cooperation persists despite territorial disputes.

India and Bangladesh aim for net-zero emissions by 2070. With rising energy demand and a push for cleaner solutions, investments in hydropower and other renewables are critical. As a neighbor to most BIMSTEC members, India should not only facilitate power exchanges but also actively help build the necessary infrastructure. This is also a strategic imperative for Indian and Bangladeshi exports, particularly to the EU, which will soon impose a Carbon Border Adjustment Mechanism (CBAM) tax.

The Nepal-Bangladesh power deal, enabled by India, is more than a regional energy milestone. It underscores a geopolitical and developmental opportunity South Asia cannot ignore. Amid climate crises, energy insecurity, and volatile bilateral ties, cross-border power trade offers a path to redefine cooperation through economic interdependence.

Yet without a multilateral framework, such exchanges remain fragile, dependent on India’s strategic calculus. The absence of standardized rules, dispute resolution, and long-term planning leaves the region vulnerable to political shifts and technical failures. For India, formalizing a BIMSTEC energy community is not just goodwill—it aligns with its climate diplomacy and trade competitiveness in a CBAM-regulated world.

The real challenge is not technical feasibility but political vision. South Asia’s energy future hinges on its ability to institutionalize trust, integrate equity, and depoliticize infrastructure.

The author is a PhD Candidate at the School of International Studies, Jawaharlal Nehru University. He is also associated as a Life Member of the International Centre for Peace Studies, New Delhi 

The appointment of Mohammad Yunus as Chief Advisor of Bangladesh, after the acrimonious removal of Sheikh Hasina, signifies an unparalleled shift in the nation’s political course. Globally recognized as a Nobel Peace Prize laureate and innovator of microfinance via Grameen Bank, Yunus ascended to the highest executive role amid a period of national upheaval. His leadership has emerged when Bangladesh faces a confluence of challenges—severe economic downturn, waning investor confidence, geopolitical strife in South and Southeast Asia and a domestic landscape characterised by civil upheaval and institutional exhaustion. 

The unelected top official of Bangladesh has been in the news since the ouster of his predecessor, Sheikh Hasina. When the students of Bangladesh, after the uprising, chose Yunus as a top executive, they must have had a few things in their minds: his international stature, his closeness to the Western governments, his reputation as a global economist and finally, for some, his secular credentials. These qualities of Yunus are not providing dividends for the current political climate of Bangladesh. The most recent example of this tension has been the visible opposition from Bangladesh’s Army to the Yunus-proposed ‘humanitarian corridor’.  

Other than that, in a recent speech in Beijing, Yunus stated that India’s northeastern territories are ‘landlocked’ and suggested that Bangladesh could serve as their natural conduit to the Indian Ocean. Although ostensibly a harmless appeal for regional connection and collaboration, the speech directly aligned with Beijing’s geopolitical characterization of India’s vulnerabilities. Chinese state media promptly disseminated Yunus’s statements, portraying Bangladesh as a neutral yet empathetic regional participant. The political characterization of India’s Northeast is very sensitive. India regards this region as strategically vital, mainly because of the constricted Siliguri corridor, often called the ‘Chicken’s Neck’—and symbolically significant for its domestic cohesion. The speech was interpreted in New Delhi as an implicit endorsement of China's enduring attempts to undermine Indian sovereignty in Arunachal Pradesh and to globalize the geopolitical character of the Northeast.

India's response was prompt and multifaceted. Prime Minister Narendra Modi, in a pointed retort, affirmed that the Northeast is “central to India’s growth narrative, not peripheral or isolated,” clearly countering Yunus’ assertion, with geographic and diplomatic connotations. External Affairs Minister S Jaishankar intensified the matter by publicly alleging that Yunus was “cherry-picking narratives” and emphasized to Dhaka the profound economic, cultural and historical dimensions of Indo-Bangladeshi relations.

Central to India’s response is the Siliguri corridor—a 22-kilometer-wide land passage linking the remainder of India with its northeastern states. The ‘Chicken’s Neck’ is commonly referred to as one of the nation’s most significant strategic vulnerabilities. Yunus’ comments directly contributed to India’s enduring apprehension of encirclement. The episode revitalized New Delhi’s security dialogue, with Indian defense strategists cautioning about a ‘chicken with two necks’, wherein Bangladesh and China may exert pressure on India’s most vulnerable spot together.

It was another blow to an already fragile relationship between India and Bangladesh, considering Bangladesh’s ex-PM Sheikh Hasina is currently residing in India, fearing persecution in Bangladesh. The current Bangladesh government has demanded her return from India. On its part, the government of India has been wary of the current regime as it has “failed to stop the persecution of minorities after the ouster of Sheikh Hasina”. 

While the current regime in Bangladesh has signalled strong ties with China, they are yet to see any material impact. Other than that, Pakistan has also made overtures toward Bangladesh, which the current regime has welcomed, but the strategic and economic viability of this relationship is in question. The political climate in the West has also changed drastically since the arrival of Donald Trump as US president. His transactional relationship is haunting the US’ oldest and most steadfast allies. In his first term, Trump was particularly interested in the Indo-Pacific to counter China. Bangladesh finalized its Indo-Pacific strategy in 2023 during Hasina’s tenure, which more or less aligned with the US’ vision. However, the US is currently dealing with two evolving crises in Gaza and Ukraine, and the Indo-Pacific has again taken a back seat. The other economic powers are trying to cut deals with the US because of Trump’s trade war threat.

Yunus must embrace a more equitable and realistic strategy that harmonizes with Bangladesh’s domestic circumstances and the shifting geopolitical environment to traverse the intricate political and diplomatic landscape ahead. Although advantageous, his global credentials and reformer persona must now be enhanced by a more profound engagement with regional nuances and state institutions. In the light of the recent tensions with India, it would be wise for Yunus to implement confidence-building measures that strengthen Bangladesh’s dedication to regional peace and cooperative benefits, especially on connectivity, trade and border security. This does not inherently necessitate a withdrawal from alliances with other nations, such as China; nevertheless, it demands meticulous recalibration to prevent the appearance of strategic alignment with any one entity. 

Simultaneously, Yunus must tackle national issues regarding governance and institutional credibility. Establishing communication lines with political players, especially moderate opposition factions and civil society, may alleviate tensions and facilitate a more inclusive political process. Enhancing civilian-military interactions will be crucial for ensuring policy continuity and internal consistency. His initiatives, including the humanitarian corridor, must be conveyed transparently and deliberated within national institutions to prevent misunderstandings or suspicions of unilateralism.

Bangladesh’s future will likely hinge on its capacity to sustain strategic flexibility while strengthening internal cohesion. As global power dynamics change and regional alliances develop, Yunus’ leadership will be evaluated on his ability to establish Bangladesh as a constructive regional participant, engaging with all significant actors without excessive dependence on any, and grounding its diplomacy in national consensus and institutional robustness.

The author is pursuing his doctoral research from the School of International Studies, JNU, New Delhi

On April 22, the tranquil Baisaran meadow near Pahalgam in Jammu and Kashmir was converted into a site of extraordinary catastrophe. Militants reportedly associated with The Resistance Front (TRF), a proxy of the Pakistan-based Lashkar-e-Taiba (LeT), executed a violent assault on the group of tourists, leading to the deaths of at least 26 (25 Indian nationals and one Nepali citizen) victims and injuries to more than 20.

This assault is among the most lethal strikes on civilians in the area since the 2008 Mumbai attacks. In the last 35 years of the Kashmir conflict, tourists were spared even in the height of militancy. This has changed now, it has been visible from the attack in Raesi, Jammu, last year, which took the lives of nine Hindu pilgrims. And so many other things have also changed in the course of the previous 24 hours in the South Asian geopolitical landscape. The attack coincided with four main events that happened recently. 

On the day of the attack, US Vice-president JD Vance was visiting India, interestingly on the same day Prime Minister of India Narendra Modi was in Jeddah meeting with the Saudi Prince and officials. Two other incidents that happened earlier but have a significant impact on the nature, psyche and politics of the attacks, extradition of Tahawwur Hussain Rana, a Pakistani-Canadian citizen who served in the Pakistani military for some time, from the USA to India. 

It reignited the old scars of the terrible 2008 Mumbai attacks, which were a paradigm shift in the global approach to fighting terrorism from South Asia. After a lengthy legal battle, Rana was extradited to India. The last but most significant event which had a colossal impact on the Pahalgam attack was Pakistan’s Army Chief Gen Asim Munir’s remarks on the ethnic two-nation theory between India and Pakistan, which is true for Pakistan but not for India because it is a civic democratic nation. He also referred to Kashmir as their ‘jugular vein’, provoking a load of religious sentiments just weeks before the attack, the clips of which are making rounds on social media. 

The preliminary intelligence findings from India suggest that five culprits, three from across the border and two locals, were involved in this heinous attack. India, in response, took a slew of diplomatic decisions, the most important of which is the suspension of the Indus Water Treaty of 1960, which survived three full-scale wars and many terror attacks perpetrated by Pakistan on Indian soil. 

Other than that, India has declared the defence attaches of Pakistan’s High Commission in New Delhi as persona non grata and given them a week to leave the country. Along with this, the newer development or any escalation from the Pakistani side may result in military retaliation. 

Consider this: in Feb 2025, Pakistan’s Prime Minister Shahbaz Sharif showed a desire to pursue dialogue with India as it is the only ‘way forward’. Even before that, Pakistan’s ruling party’s patron, Nawaz Sharif, has called for normalizing ties with India. India, meanwhile, has been firm in its approach of not indulging Pakistan unless it dismantles the terror apparatus of the country. India has also been successful in de-hyphenating its relations with Pakistan vis-à-vis global powers, as India and Pakistan are not seen through one lens. 

For India, in the current geostrategic setting, the only rival is China, which is mainly accurate. It has also been successful in creating new ties with Pakistan’s traditional Gulf partners. 

Comparatively, Pakistan’s situation is in the doldrums. Its economy is growing at a meagre 2-3 percent, one of the lowest in South Asia, with a volatile inflation, which went as high as 39 percent in 2023. It also has a very high debt-to-GDP ratio, which is why there needs to be multiple bailout packages from the IMF. Politically, Pakistan has always been in turmoil, where its most popular leader has won an election engineered by the Army, which has installed Shahbaz Sharif as Prime Minister of Pakistan. Still, the driving seat of power is, as usual, with the Army. 

For the longest time in Pakistan, the Army has maintained one of the most venerated positions and a symbol of national unity. It started slowly eroding when the failure of the state became apparent in the last two decades, the tenure of ex-Prime Minister Imran Khan, who was also the Army’s favourite at one point, was in the tussle. His removal prompted protests that echoed to many cantonments in Pakistan, where protesters attacked the army’s establishments. It was the most visible frustration of Pakistanis toward the venerated institution. Pakistan is also grappling with autonomy and secessionist movements in Balochistan, which has also caused forced disappearances of many ethnic Baloch who allege that the state has a direct involvement in these incidents. Islamabad has been rocked with protests by Baloch people.  

In addition to that, in March 2025, the Balochistan Liberation Army (BLA), an ethnonationalist militant organization, attacked the Jaffar Express, which runs from Quetta to Peshawar and hijacked it. The attacks caused the loss of 31 lives, including 18 soldiers who were travelling on that train. Other than that, after the Taliban came to power, Pakistan’s relations with its northern neighbour have been sour. There has been a condition of low-intensity conflict on the Durand line. Last year, the usually quiet western border of Pakistan with Iran also rocked when Iran launched a series of missile strikes on Pakistan. Paradoxically, for the previous few years, leaving few incidents, Pakistan’s border with India has been relatively peaceful, which has changed with sudden developments. 

It is in this context that General Asim Munir’s remarks and subsequent attack in Kashmir need to be read. Pakistan’s deep state knows that these attacks will have strong retaliation from India, which will help in fuelling nationalist fervor. Nevertheless, it also needs to be clarified that Pakistan’s reason to exist, the “two-nation theory”, which General Munir put so much emphasis on failing more than 50 years ago after the creation of Bangladesh.

It also needs to be noted that Gen Munir was supposed to retire this year, but last year, through an amendment, he extended the tenure of the Army chief for five years. It is a well-known fact that Pakistan’s army is the cause of many structural ailments in the country, and has to face the heat coming from society, causing a significant loss to its venerated position in the country.  Now, with this attack and retaliation from India, the Pakistani Army has tried to find some breathing space to run away from its structural problems. Still, this gamble can be a double-edged sword in a fast-changing situation. 

Deeply ingrained historical, cultural, and geographical links define the civilizational relationship between India and Nepal. Formally expressed via the 1950 Treaty of Peace and Friendship, this bilateral engagement has provided an unmatched degree of permeability between two sovereign governments, enabling the free flow of people and products across an open border spanning 1,770 kilometres. Notwithstanding these apparently tight connections, the relationship has been characterized by occasional conflict, mutual misunderstanding, and diplomatic congestion. Although physical closeness and cultural familiarity should ideally promote smooth collaboration, in practice, India-Nepal ties are nevertheless delicate and vulnerable to both internal political changes and regional forces. This article aims to investigate alternative answers based on existing frameworks and empirical observations as well as to grasp the structural and dependent elements causing these obstructions.

The territorial dispute over Kalapani, Limpiyadhura, and Lipulekh is among the most delicate and persistent causes of disagreements. When India published an updated political map including the disputed areas in 2019, this problem became much more severe. Nepal responded with its map and a constitutional change, thereby supporting its assertions. In Nepal, this move stoked nationalistic fervor and turned into a gathering place for claiming historical identity and sovereignty. It shows how closely conflicts over territory—especially in post-colonial states—are related to issues of nationhood and historical recognition rather than just legal or administrative ones.

This escalation also emphasizes the more significant trend in nationalist politics affecting bilateral ties. Domestically, political players in both India and Nepal have been turning more and more to foreign policy issues to inspire popular support. In Nepal, criticism of India often finds prosperous footing in nationalist narratives that show India as an obstructive force. Although these stories are not necessarily based on reality, their resonance comes from past grievances and the more extensive background of imbalance. In India, however, there is a tendency in strategic circles to see Nepal’s actions as either reactive or shaped by outside players. When free from diplomatic communication, such opinions may harden policy stances and limit the area for compromise.

Another significant bottleneck in the relationship is Nepal’s evolving engagement with China. China has significantly expanded its presence in Nepal during the last ten years by means of diplomatic outreach, economic support, and infrastructural projects. Seeing a chance to diversify its economic alliances and lessen reliance on India, Nepal has accepted China’s Belt and Road Initiative (BRI). Nevertheless, it did not bore much fruit to Nepal. In New Delhi, where worries about Chinese intrusion in the Himalayan area have developed, this realignment has not gone unseen. From Kathmandu's vantage point, interacting with China is a hedging and strategic autonomy-boosting tactic. It aims to strike a balance between two big powers, thereby preventing too much reliance on one.

This captures the dynamics of small-state conduct in international relations, especially the idea of ‘soft balancing’, in which smaller governments try to increase their autonomy by including many partners without open conflict. Nepal’s China outreach also shows an effort to change its growth story, presenting itself not only as a dependent neighbour but also as a growing transit centre between India and China. This change for India calls for a review of its strategic posture. India would be better off improving its attractiveness with dependable infrastructure delivery, open project management, and culturally sensitive diplomacy with Kathmandu.

India has shown both technical know-how and readiness to co-develop responses in water resource cooperation. The great hydropower potential of Nepal offers the area transforming prospects. India has funded significant hydropower projects such as Arun III and Upper Karnali, therefore offering not just financial help but also grid connection and market access. Some cooperative ventures have delays that result not from a lack of purpose but rather from the complexities of transboundary water management. In renegotiating agreements, India has shown willingness and flexibility to guarantee that Nepali issues are resolved and profits are fairly distributed. 

The bilateral dynamic is powerfully shaped by ethnic politics as well, especially in connection to the Madhesi community in Nepal’s Tarai area. Historically excluded from Nepal’s political mainstream, the Madhesis have significant cultural and family links to those living in northern regions of India. Their demands for linguistic rights, federal reorganisation, and proportional representation have set off periodic outbreaks of internal strife. The complexity results from these internal issues permeating bilateral relations. While India views itself as supporting democratic values and minority rights, Nepal has seen India’s comments of support for Madhesi’s inclusion as an intervention in domestic affairs. This sensitive problem emphasises how foreign policy and home politics interact. After the civil war, state-building initiatives in Nepal have required a reconsideration of citizenship, identity, and representation. Cross-border ethnic connections can result in hopes of moral or diplomatic assistance in India. Handling these calls for great care. India needs to stress quiet diplomacy and people-to-person interaction in this case.

With these stacked difficulties, which paths may be followed for a more steady and cooperative relationship? First, bilateral communication has to be institutionalised right now. Although ad hoc conferences and high-level visits are valuable, they cannot replace organised systems of participation. Joint Commissions’ regular meetings, strategic conversations between foreign secretaries, and the rebirth of bilateral working groups on trade, water, and energy can help to provide continuity and lower misperceptions. Scholarly research on international regimes emphasises how crucial ongoing engagement is to building confidence and lowering diplomatic transaction costs.

Second, economic interconnection has to be extended and strengthened beyond conventional industries. In recent years, India has made admirable progress in building cross-border rail connections, starting a petroleum pipeline from Motihari to Amlekhgunj, and setting integrated checkpoints. Other areas like digital infrastructure, educational exchanges, and tourism should have these ideas expanded and duplicated. Economic cooperation should be considered as a vehicle for the empowerment of Nepal’s development aspirations as much as a tool for influence. Here, theories of complicated interdependence are informative, stressing the variety of channels and the role non-state players play in maintaining peaceful interactions.

Cooperation on water resources calls for a paradigmatic change. Pursues of joint development should centre on environmental sustainability, equality, and openness. Project agreements and bilateral treaties have to be negotiated inclusively with local populations and interested parties. Establishing dispute-resolution systems and cooperative environmental assessment agencies would also help to build confidence. Other areas, including the Mekong basin, where transboundary cooperation is controlled by multi-stakeholder systems balancing growth with sustainability, might provide lessons as well.

Ultimately, structural inequalities, changing geopolitical alignments, and deeply ingrained political sensitivity restrict India-Nepal relations, even if they have traditionally been close and profoundly nuanced. Though they are not insurmountable, the obstacles in the way of collaboration call for a change in institutional involvement, policy instruments, and attitude. Mutual respect, strategic empathy, and an awareness of Nepal’s sovereign goals will form the foundation of a forward-looking, sustainable cooperation. Through cooperative development, inclusive diplomacy, and long-term trust-building, India and Nepal can overcome regular difficulties and create a robust and future-oriented alliance.