Bangladesh–India relations, long marked by both    cooperation and tension, have now spilled into cricket. The BCCI’s directive to remove Mustafizur Rahman from Kolkata Knight Riders ahead of the 2026 IPL season was no routine sporting matter; it was a political signal that has further complicated bilateral ties.

The fallout was immediate. In Dhaka, officials even considered banning IPL coverage and asked the ICC to schedule Bangladesh’s World T20 fixtures outside India—evidence of how quickly cricket can become entangled in politics, transforming a player’s exclusion into a symbol of national dignity and mistrust.  

Using Sports For Political Signalling

The Board of Control for Cricket in India or BCCI’s directive to release Mustafizur Rahman was widely perceived as reflecting political pressure.  This raises a troubling question: what does the Indian government—or the political climate it shapes—gain by targeting a Bangladeshi player, particularly from a neighboring country it claims to prioritize under its Neighborhood First Policy?

Most troubling is that religious identity politics now sits at the center of these tensions. Political rhetoric amplified by media and social platforms increasingly shapes sporting decisions, turning games from neutral competition into instruments of political signaling. History shows such paths leave no one secure. The current crisis must therefore be seen not as a passing flare‑up but as part of a deeper political trend, taking the diplomatic tensions at the people and society level.

Cricket has long served as South Asia’s soft diplomatic channel, allowing symbolic engagement even when formal dialogue was frozen. Politicizing participation—by making eligibility contingent on selective moral judgments—undermines this foundation. Rabindranath Tagore’s observation that “sport is the joy of life made visible” reminds us that play, governed by fairness, allows societies to encounter one another without fear or suspicion. When sport is burdened with political sanction, that joy—and its civic function—begins to disappear.

Unfortunately, today  sports has become a casualty of politics. The politicization of the game is driven not only by bilateral tensions but also by deepening internal communal divisions. Strains in Hindu–Muslim relations, the rise of Hindutva politics, and growing concerns over minority security have together turned sport into a stage for political messaging. As The Indian Express reported, BJP leader Dilip Ghosh said “Bangladesh cricketers should not be allowed to play in our country.”

The BCCI justified its decision by citing recent violence in Bangladesh, including the killing of Dipu Das, a young Hindu man in Mymensingh. The killing is undeniably tragic and demands exemplary punishment. The Bangladesh government acted swiftly, arresting suspects, and must now follow through with transparent investigation and accountability. Yet in India, the tragedy was politicized, transforming grief into nationalist spectacle. Shah Rukh Khan, the owner of KKR, was publicly labeled a “traitor” by senior BJP leaders for signing a Bangladeshi player. Social media amplified this rhetoric, turning a professional sporting issue into a nationalist drama.

When Morality Is Applied Unevenly

Political philosophers have long warned against such trends. Hannah Arendt cautioned that condemning injustice abroad while normalizing it at home weakens the force of morality. Amartya Sen observed that “violence is fomented when people are forced into a singular and belligerent identity.” These warnings show that when morality and human rights are turned into political weapons, the result is deeper division.

To single out Bangladesh while overlooking India’s own record of communal violence—from Gujarat in 2002 to Delhi in 2020—is electoral morality, not justice.  This does not strengthen minority protection; it erodes justice by turning it into a geopolitical tool. When morality is applied unevenly, it ceases to be universal and becomes strategic. Concerns over minority safety must never be dismissed, but when converted into political instruments they deepen division instead of advancing justice.

Mustafizur Rahman is not a representative of state violence or social prejudice. He is an athlete in a transnational professional system. To hold him accountable for events beyond his control is to replace individual responsibility with collective blame, reducing sport to a stage of punishment.

History shows that sport heals precisely when politics divides: India–Pakistan cricket softened public attitudes in 2004, Mandela’s embrace of South Africa’s rugby team in 1995 helped heal apartheid wounds, and ping‑pong diplomacy reopened U.S.–China communication during the Cold War. Sport was never reserved for morally perfect societies; it was deployed because societies were imperfect.

Whither Neighbourhood First Policy?

India’s Neighborhood First Policy promises stability, cooperation, and mutual respect. But credibility cannot rest on moral unilateralism. It requires restraint, consistency, and recognition of shared vulnerabilities. Communal violence is not Bangladesh’s problem alone, nor India’s alone; it is a regional affliction shaped by history and political opportunism. 

When cricket is weaponized against Bangladesh while India’s own internal challenges are ignored, the message is unmistakable: power, not principle, is guiding moral judgment. This undermines the very spirit of Neighborhood First, which depends on trust and even‑handedness. Over time, such practices erode confidence, deepen asymmetry, and weaken the foundations of cooperation.

The intrusion of political tensions into cricket is unnecessary and damaging. If such practices continue, they will erode trust not only in sport but also in culture, education, and people‑to‑people ties, weakening the foundations of bilateral cooperation. Political leaders, diplomats, government institutions, and civil society must act now to keep sport separate from politics. That responsibility must be carried out now—clearly, decisively, and with accountability. Failures must be confronted with honesty, and cricket must be preserved not as a site of exclusion but as a field of fraternity, restraint, and mutual recognition. To allow politics to colonize our shared games is a failure no democracy should tolerate.

(The author is Professor and Chair of the Department of Economics, International University of Business Agriculture and Technology (IUBAT), Dhaka. His research focuses on regional trade, sustainable development, and South Asian economic cooperation. Views expressed are personal. He can be reached at golam.grasul@gmail.com)