Cricket has long been celebrated as a unifying force in South Asia, a rare arena where rivalry could coexist with mutual respect and shared passion. Yet, the unfolding crisis surrounding Bangladesh’s reported boycott of the ICC Men’s T20 World Cup 2026 reveals how deeply politics has penetrated the sport. What should have been a celebration of competition has instead become a geopolitical battleground, exposing the extent to which India has transformed cricket from a sporting platform into an instrument of political leverage.

Bangladesh’s interim government’s decision to demand that its matches be played in Sri Lanka, rather than India, reflects more than mere security concerns. It signals a profound breakdown of trust in the region’s sporting ecosystem—one that cannot be understood without examining India’s dominant role in global cricket governance. The International Cricket Council’s swift rejection of Bangladesh’s request, despite Dhaka’s insistence on safety and political sensitivities, underscores a structural imbalance in world cricket where Indian preferences often outweigh the concerns of smaller nations.

At the core of this controversy lies the blurred line between sport and statecraft. India’s cricket establishment, led by the Board of Control for Cricket in India (BCCI), has repeatedly demonstrated its willingness to intertwine sporting decisions with political calculations. The abrupt release of Bangladeshi pacer Mustafizur Rahman from an IPL franchise was not merely a contractual matter; it was a symbolic rupture that resonated far beyond the boundary ropes. For Bangladesh, the episode was perceived as a reminder that participation in India-centric cricket structures comes with implicit political costs.

The ICC’s position, framed around security assessments and logistical considerations, appears technocratic on the surface. However, in practice, it reflects the reality that global cricket’s institutional architecture is heavily influenced by India’s economic and political weight. When a smaller cricketing nation raises concerns, those concerns are often interpreted as inconveniences rather than legitimate grievances. This asymmetry has turned international tournaments into arenas where power dynamics are quietly enforced under the guise of neutrality.

The timing of the crisis is particularly telling. India-Bangladesh relations have been strained since the political upheaval in Dhaka in 2024, which ended Sheikh Hasina’s rule and altered the strategic alignment between the two countries. In such a context, cricket cannot be isolated from diplomacy. Bangladesh’s reluctance to play in India reflects not only security apprehensions but also a broader assertion of political autonomy. By refusing to “bow to coercion,” Dhaka is challenging a regional order in which India often expects compliance from its neighbors.

India’s politicization of sports is not a new phenomenon. Over the years, New Delhi has repeatedly used cricket as a tool of soft power and diplomatic signaling. Matches have been scheduled, canceled, or leveraged depending on the state of bilateral relations. Pakistan’s experience provides a stark example: cricketing ties have frequently been suspended or selectively revived based on political convenience. The Bangladesh episode suggests that this pattern is now extending to other South Asian nations, eroding the foundational principle that sport should transcend politics.

The consequences of this trend are far-reaching. When cricket becomes hostage to political agendas, the credibility of international sporting institutions suffers. The ICC’s reluctance to accommodate Bangladesh’s concerns, coupled with its readiness to replace the team with another participant, reinforces the perception that commercial interests and political pressures trump fairness and inclusivity. Such an approach risks alienating smaller cricketing nations and undermining the spirit of global competition.

Moreover, the crisis highlights a deeper paradox: India, which frequently portrays itself as a victim of politicization in international forums, has itself become one of the primary drivers of political interference in sports. By leveraging its economic dominance in cricket to shape decisions and narratives, India has transformed the game into a strategic asset. This may serve short-term geopolitical interests, but it corrodes the moral legitimacy of the sport.

For Bangladesh, the stakes are high. With elections approaching and public sentiment sensitive to issues of sovereignty and dignity, the government’s stance on the World Cup has become a matter of national pride. The uncertainty expressed by captain Litton Das reflects not just confusion within the team but the broader dilemma facing the nation: whether to participate in a tournament that appears structurally tilted against its concerns or to risk isolation by withdrawing.

Ultimately, the Bangladesh-India cricket standoff is a warning sign for global sports. If powerful nations continue to instrumentalize sporting platforms for political ends, international competitions will lose their ability to foster unity and mutual respect. Cricket, once a bridge between nations, risks becoming another arena of geopolitical rivalry.