1971: A veto, a new world order and the bloody birth of Bangladesh
The liberation war was won not only on the battlefield but in the unforgiving arena of Cold War politics. Today’s multipolar order demands the same hard-headed realism from Dhaka
The air in the United Nations Security Council chamber was thick with more than cigar smoke on 7 December 1971; it was heavy with the weight of a dying unipolar moment. Under the sickly glow of a flickering projector, Soviet ambassador Yakov Malik scanned the room.
Before him lay Resolution 303 — a US-backed call for a ceasefire designed to preserve a united Pakistan and halt the liberation of Bangladesh. With one word, he changed the script: "Nyet".
That single Soviet veto, the first of three that month, did more than block a resolution. It cracked the Cold War monolith, signalling to the world that the interests of a superpower could be leveraged for a smaller nation's survival.
Today, as great powers vie for influence in an increasingly multipolar world, the ghost of 1971 whispers a crucial lesson to Bangladesh and the Global South: sovereignty was won not only through valour, but through navigating the ruthless theatre of great-power politics. The playbook written then must guide the path forward now.
Act I: 1971 — A cinematic masterclass in realpolitik
The liberation of Bangladesh was a geopolitical thriller worthy of a Hollywood blockbuster — though one whose narrative the West seldom tells. The plot unfolded against the stark backdrop of Operation Searchlight, the brutal Pakistani military crackdown that began on 25 March 1971, sparked genocide, and sent 10 million refugees fleeing into India.
The US, under President Nixon, made its strategic bet. In a cynical "tilt" towards Pakistan — aimed at courting China and countering Soviet influence — Washington backed Islamabad, even dispatching the USS Enterprise carrier group to the Bay of Bengal as a show of force. The intended audience was India and its patron, the Soviet Union.
Enter the Soviet counter-play. Moscow's three vetoes at the UN Security Council were not acts of charity. They were calculated moves to fracture the US–China–Pakistan axis, humiliate Washington, and position the USSR as the patron of anti-imperialism. As Soviet submarines shadowed the American fleet, the world watched a superpower bluff being called.
For Bangladesh, this marked the birth of a proto-multipolar tactic: a subaltern nation scripting its survival by exploiting fissures between giants.
The final scene, at Dhaka's Ramna Racecourse on 16 December 1971, was poignant. Pakistani Lieutenant General AAK Niazi surrendered to Indian General Jagjit Singh Aurora. The surrender document made no mention of Bangladesh. It was an agreement between two states, not the birth certificate of a third.
This symbolic wound offered a raw lesson in realist politics — a reminder that, in an anarchic world, sentiment yields to strategic gain. Liberation was ratified by bullets and geopolitical convenience, not diplomacy alone.
Act II: The modern shadow play — sovereignty on a debt-soaked stage
Fast-forward to today. The names of the superpowers have changed, but the script feels hauntingly familiar. Bangladesh, no longer a pawn, now performs a high-stakes balancing act on a stage dominated by emerging powers.
China's playbook is one of economic statecraft. A 2022 RAND Corporation report identified Bangladesh as one of four countries globally most suitable for China's pursuit of overseas military access and basing, citing its strategic location and economic ties.
The promise is development — bridges, ports and infrastructure under the Belt and Road Initiative. The subtext, as history shows, is that basing rights often follow deep economic dependency and are pursued to protect growing strategic interests. The port of Chattogram is not merely an economic hub; in the calculus of great powers, it is a strategic asset.
Meanwhile, the American strategy has shifted. Once Bangladesh's primary garment buyer, the US increasingly looks elsewhere, while sharpening its focus on containing Chinese influence. This creates both pressure and opportunity. India, the historic liberator, seeks a friendly neighbour, promoting digital infrastructure and security cooperation, yet remains wary of China's encircling "String of Pearls".
Bangladesh finds itself in the classic "self-help" dilemma described by international relations theorists. A recent analysis of a proposed UN humanitarian corridor from Chittagong to Myanmar warned that such initiatives, while noble in intent, risk becoming "geopolitical Trojan horses", potentially used for intelligence-gathering or to support proxy actors. It is a stark modern echo of 1971: external powers framing intervention in altruistic language while pursuing hard strategic interests.
The lesson is unmistakable. The unforgiving world of self-help did not end in 1971; it merely evolved. Then, the threat was overt military conquest. Today, it is the slow erosion of sovereignty through debt, dependency and the soft power of strategic access.
Epilogue: From pawn to director — charting Bangladesh's path in a multipolar world
The Soviet veto was a flare in the Cold War night, illuminating a path to agency. For Bangladesh today, the mandate is to become the director of its own geopolitical film. The playbook refined in 1971 must now be applied through pragmatic, principled balance.
This requires strategic ambiguity. There are no permanent allies—only permanent interests. It means accepting Chinese investment for infrastructure while rigorously assessing debt sustainability and contractual sovereignty. It means partnering with India on regional security while firmly maintaining an independent foreign policy. It means engaging with the US on trade while refusing to become a frontline state in any new Cold War. This is not hypocrisy; it is the survival pragmatism of a middle power.
Bangladesh must also move beyond passive balancing to active agenda-setting. This includes leading the global push for climate reparations, leveraging its moral authority as a climate-vulnerable nation.
It means championing UN Security Council reform — including the abolition of veto power that once determined its fate — to make the institution more representative. It requires negotiating ironclad guarantees in all international agreements — whether on humanitarian corridors or infrastructure projects — that explicitly protect sovereignty and prohibit hostile use.
Ultimately, the nation must internalise the core lesson of 1971, reinforced by sober assessments such as the RAND report: great powers are always watching for an opening. Every policy choice — from economic agreements to security cooperation — must be evaluated through this lens. Sovereignty is protected not by declarations of neutrality, but by the relentless, informed pursuit of national interest.
The seeds of multipolarity were planted in 1971 — not in the corridors of Washington or Moscow, but in the blood-soaked soil of Bangladesh and in the calculated utterance of "Nyet" that allowed a nation to be born. That moment proved the Global South could exploit superpower rivalry for its own ends.
Today's multipolar world is not a gift; it is a more complex and contested arena. For Bangladesh, history's directive is clear: once a prize fought over by empires, it must now write its own script, direct its own story, and ensure that it is never again merely the setting in someone else's geopolitical film.
Zakir Kibria is a Bangladeshi writer, policy analyst and entrepreneur based in Kathmandu, Nepal. His email address is zk@krishikaaj.com
