Bangladesh’s ‘fish diplomacy’ has gone sour with India

Bangladesh had usually relaxed its hilsa export ban before Durga Puja, allowing large shipments to reach West Bengal and Indian Bengali households. This year, no special consignments were approved. The change matters because hilsa had become both a festival food and a familiar diplomatic gesture between Dhaka and New Delhi.

The practice grew under Sheikh Hasina, whose administration granted annual Puja exemptions despite a blanket export ban introduced in 2012. In 2021, Bangladesh sent 2,500 tonnes to India. Such shipments helped present warmth in a relationship shaped by shared Bengali culture, even when broader political disagreements remained.

The halt reflects today’s strained ties, but domestic pressure also matters. Bangladesh’s hilsa catch has fallen, while prime fish sells for 2,000 to 3,200 taka per kilogram. The missing exports therefore signal both diplomatic distance and concern about affordability at home.

Hilsa, scientifically called Tenualosa ilisha, is a silvery, oily river fish with many delicate bones. Bengali cooks fry it, steam it, cover it with mustard, wrap it in banana leaves, or simmer its head with vegetables. Its rich internal fat can fry the fish in its own oils, while its distinctive scent announces it before the meal begins.

The fish matters because the 1947 Partition divided territory without ending shared Bengali food culture. People in Bangladesh and India still argue over whether Padma or Ganges hilsa tastes better. Its characteristic richness, aroma, sweetness, texture, and roe are treated as marks of authenticity, not minor culinary details.

Hilsa therefore carries emotional and political meaning. It appears at family tables and festivals, especially around Durga Puja. When it crosses the border, it can suggest friendship. When it stays home, its absence can reveal tension, scarcity, and national pride.

Between July and September, roughly 553 tonnes of Indian hilsa entered Bangladesh through Benapole. This was an unusual reversal because Bangladesh traditionally regards hilsa as a national treasure and has often supplied India before Durga Puja. Much of the imported fish came from Gujarat, where harvests around the Narmada and Arabian Sea had expanded.

The imports did not solve the market problem. On Sept. 22, Bangladesh’s Department of Fisheries revoked 103 import licences. Shoppers complained that the Gujarati fish was often mislabelled as Padma hilsa and lacked the expected richness, aroma, sweetness, or texture. Some said the fish disintegrated in hot mustard oil; others disliked its large size, roe, or unfamiliar taste.

Bangladesh’s wider supply is also under pressure. Recent catches were roughly 500,000 tonnes, down from 571,000 tonnes two years earlier. In Dhaka, prime specimens cost 2,000 to 3,200 taka per kilogram, putting hilsa beyond many ordinary households.

Bangladesh and India have struggled to find a stable relationship since the dramatic 2024 uprising removed former Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina from power. Hasina had led Bangladesh for years and built an unusually close alignment with New Delhi. Her present residency in India has become a visible symbol of the countries’ estrangement.

Bangladesh’s new administration wants Hasina extradited. It calls the return of fugitives a prerequisite for normal relations. That demand has placed a personal and legal dispute at the center of bilateral diplomacy, making older gestures of cultural goodwill less effective.

The hilsa decision reflects this colder atmosphere without creating a geopolitical crisis by itself. For years, fish shipments helped smooth moments of friction. This year, no special consignments went west before Durga Puja. The absence suggests that political trust has weakened enough for even a familiar seasonal tradition to stop.

Sheikh Hasina recognized that hilsa could carry warmth where formal negotiations were difficult. In 1996, before a major Ganges water-sharing treaty, she sent hilsa to West Bengal’s chief minister. The gift connected an important political discussion with a food deeply valued by Bengali communities on both sides of the border.

Her administration later sent shipments to regional heavyweights. Bangladesh imposed a blanket hilsa export ban in 2012, but still granted annual exemptions for India’s Durga Puja. These exceptions made hilsa a recurring diplomatic signal. In 2021 alone, Bangladesh shipped 2,500 tonnes, helping maintain a ritual of generosity even during periods of friction.

The gesture had limits. Sending a national delicacy abroad became awkward as Bangladeshi consumers found hilsa increasingly unaffordable. Falling catches and ecological strain intensified that tension. This year, no special consignments were approved, showing that the fish’s goodwill role depends on political relations and domestic tolerance.

Declining hilsa catches and high prices make the fish harder for ordinary Bangladeshi families to afford. Recent catches fell to roughly 500,000 tonnes from 571,000 tonnes two years earlier. Prime fish now costs 2,000 to 3,200 taka per kilogram in Dhaka markets. Overfishing, river siltation, and ecological strain are squeezing supply while demand remains intense.

The export halt may reduce pressure to send scarce fish abroad, but it does not make hilsa cheap. Bangladesh also imported about 553 tonnes from India before revoking 103 licences. Shoppers rejected much of that fish as inferior, saying it lacked Padma hilsa’s richness, aroma, sweetness, and texture. Domestic consumers therefore face both scarcity and strict expectations about quality.

For cross-border relations, the consequences are symbolic as well as practical. India misses a familiar Durga Puja gesture, while Bangladesh signals that domestic affordability and political distance now outweigh culinary diplomacy. The fish’s absence makes deteriorating ties harder to disguise.

Soft power means shaping relationships through attraction, trust, culture, and goodwill instead of pressure or force. A culturally meaningful food can work as a small diplomatic message because recipients understand its emotional value. Hilsa carries shared Bengali memories, festival associations, and strong ideas about regional identity.

Sheikh Hasina used that meaning in 1996, sending hilsa to West Bengal’s chief minister before a major Ganges water-sharing treaty. Later annual Puja exemptions continued the signal. The fish did not itself write or enforce a treaty. Instead, it created a warmer setting and showed that Bangladesh recognized a shared cultural bond.

The reverse message is also powerful. This year, Bangladesh approved no special consignments, while relations were already strained over Hasina’s presence in New Delhi and Dhaka’s extradition demand. The absent fish does not formally change policy. Yet it tells households, diplomats, and observers that old habits of generosity no longer fit current political and economic realities.