In 1997, I took a decisive step that changed the trajectory of my life—I joined the Jeay Sindh Student Federation (JSSF) while studying in college in occupied Sindh. That decision was not born out of a moment’s emotion, but was shaped by the powerful words of Sain G.M. Syed, the pioneer of the Sindhudesh freedom movement. Sain G.M. Syed laid the ideological foundation for a separate Sindhi state as early as 1971, inspired by the liberation of Bangladesh (then East Pakistan).
His dream, and ultimately mine, was to break free from the theocratic and militarized state of Pakistan—a nation that has been consistently dominated by the Pakistan Army and manipulated by jihadi Islamist groups. The freedom of Bangladesh was not just a geopolitical event; it was a torch of hope for us in Sindh. When I read about the sacrifices and courage of the Bangladeshi people, and about the leadership of Shaikh Mujibur Rahman, it stirred something deep within me. Mujib was not only the architect of Bangladesh’s independence, but also a friend of Sain G.M. Syed.
He even visited Sindh on our leader’s invitation—a visit that symbolized the solidarity of two oppressed nations under the yoke of an unjust state. It was Bangladesh’s liberation—with the vital support of India—that inspired me to engage in student politics. It wasn’t about power, popularity, or personal gain. It was about a cause larger than life: the right to self-determination, the dream of a secular, democratic, and peaceful Sindhudesh. For decades, I believed that Bangladesh was a successful example of that dream, proof that resistance could triumph against oppression.
Years later, I found myself in exile in America. My first international media interview took place in Houston, Texas, during the “Howdy Modi” event. There, I told India TV that we had come not only to welcome the Indian Prime Minister, Narendra Modi, but to appeal to him. As the leader of the world’s largest democracy, and as a neighbor with a shared history of resistance to extremism, we looked to India for help—just as it had helped the Bengali people in 1971. We believed that India would also stand with Sindh.
But those hopes have been painfully shattered in recent years. A tragic reversal has taken place in Bangladesh—one that breaks the heart of any freedom lover. In 2024, forces backed by Pakistan’s notorious Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI), along with Islamist groups like Jamaat-e-Islami and quiet support from some Western powers, orchestrated a political upheaval. The secular, pro-India government of Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina—daughter of Shaikh Mujibur Rahman—was pushed out. She was forced into exile, ending a decade-long era of remarkable economic growth and relative stability.
Under Hasina’s leadership, Bangladesh had become one of the fastest-growing economies in the world. Despite starting from a position of poverty and devastation, she steered her country past Pakistan, whose economy continues to survive on international bailouts and military patronage. Bangladesh under Hasina was a beacon for us. It proved that post-colonial states could chart an independent, secular, and economically prosperous path.
But now, the nightmare has returned. The streets of Dhaka and Chittagong echo once more with the chants of Islamist slogans. ISI-backed operatives walk freely in government circles. Even China, with its expanding influence and authoritarian leanings, has found a new base of operations in Bangladesh. What was once a story of hope is now marred by fear and regression.
The Who, Why & How of The Bangladesh Unrest
These are the questions that haunt me. I’ve spoken with scholars, activists, and intellectuals from Bangladesh and around the world. The consensus is sobering: we are all responsible. Not just the political actors within Bangladesh, but also those outside who failed to protect democracy and secularism.
To me, however, this is also a story of unfinished business. When India helped liberate Bangladesh in 1971, it only cut off one finger from the cancerous hand of Pakistan.
The rest of the hand—Punjab-dominated military, religious extremism, and jihadist networks—was left untouched. That cancer continued to spread, metastasizing through Kashmir, Balochistan, Sindh, and even within Pakistan itself. The strategic mistake was stopping short of a full disintegration of Pakistan.
Time and again, I have heard the argument that a further Balkanization of Pakistan would have created more unstable and hostile neighbors for India. But history tells us otherwise.
The real danger lies in leaving a militarized and extremist state intact. If Pakistan had been fully dismantled in 1971, and its constituent oppressed nations like Balochistan, Sindh, and Pashtunistan were allowed self-rule, we would not be facing the security threats we see today—from proxy wars to cross-border terrorism.
India invested over $7 billion in Bangladesh in recent years. It built roads, ports, and power stations. It signed defense and trade agreements. It even supported counter-terrorism efforts. And yet, all of this progress was undone not just by local forces but by a combination of geopolitical negligence and short-term diplomacy.
This should be a wake-up call—not just for India, but for all democracies in the region.
There is still time to act. Bangladesh can be saved from falling back into the abyss. But that will require renewed commitment from democratic nations, including India, to support the people of Bangladesh—not just its governments. The legacy of Sheikh Mujib must not be buried under the rubble of Islamist revivalism. Similarly, the dream of Sindhudesh, Balochistan, and a free Pashtun land must be revived with the same passion and vision that brought Bangladesh its freedom.
Our hopes may be shattered, but our spirit is not. For those of us who were inspired by Bangladesh’s fight for independence, we must continue to resist the forces of oppression and religious extremism. History has shown us that no tyranny lasts forever. But justice, like freedom, must be demanded—and sometimes, fought for.
In the end, we do not mourn only for what has been lost in Bangladesh. We mourn for what might have been—for Sindhudesh, for Balochistan, for a region free from the grip of military dictatorships and jihadi ideologies. But mourning is not the end of our story. It is the beginning of a renewed struggle—for a South Asia built on freedom, not fear.
About The Author: This article on Sindhudesh is written by Zafar Sahito, the founder and leader of the Jeay Sindh Freedom Movement. He was born in Nawabshah, Sindh and joined the Jeay Sindh Students Federation (JSSF) in 1997. He completed his graduation in Civil Engineering in 2004. He has been living in exile in the USA since 2017 after he was granted political asylum.
Note: The opinions reflected in the article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect the views and editorial line of ForPol.
