When Bangladesh asked for their matches in the upcoming men’s T20 World Cup to be shifted from India to Sri Lanka, the immediate reaction in some quarters was predictable. Accusations of political motivation surfaced instantly, with some even suggesting that Pakistan was quietly nudging Bangladesh into taking a hardline stance.
With Bangladesh now weighing a boycott of the T20 World Cup, the International Cricket Council is understood to be considering Scotland as a replacement.
But strip away the noise, and a simple question remains: are Bangladesh’s concerns genuinely unreasonable?
The ICC believes so. After a board meeting, it categorically ruled that there was “no credible security threat” to Bangladeshi players, officials, media or fans in India, based on venue-level and independent assessments. It further argued that moving fixtures so close to the tournament would set a dangerous precedent and undermine the neutrality and integrity of ICC governance.
On paper, the position sounds logical, procedural and fair.
In reality, it overlooks a context that Bangladesh believes cannot, and should not, be brushed aside. The team is set to play all their four league games in India – three in Kolkata and a game in Mumbai. The tournament, co-hosted by India and Sri Lanka, will get underway on February 7.
THE DECISIVE MUSTAFIZUR EPISODE
For Bangladesh, this issue did not begin with abstract threat assessments or last-minute logistical demands. It began with a very real and very public incident involving one of their most recognisable cricketers.
In the first week of January, Mustafizur Rahman was released by his Indian Premier League (IPL) franchise, Kolkata Knight Riders, amid backlash in India following violence and lynchings of Hindus in Bangladesh. His contract was tore up weeks after Mustafizur was bought by KKR for Rs 9.2 crore. Fringe groups protested his presence, and politicians weighed in. BJP leader Sangeet Som went as far as branding Kolkata Knight Riders co-owner Shah Rukh Khan a “traitor” and called for a ban on Bangladeshi players in the IPL.
The optics were impossible to ignore.
The BCCI subsequently urged KKR to release Mustafizur. When confirming the development, it did not explicitly cite security concerns. Secretary Devajit Saikia said the decision had been taken “because of recent developments all across”, without offering further explanation.
That silence is precisely where Bangladesh’s unease took root.
If Mustafizur Rahman – an IPL professional contracted by an Indian franchise – could be deemed untenable in India under political pressure, why should Bangladesh feel confident sending an entire national squad, along with officials, journalists and travelling fans, for a global tournament?
Bangladesh felt no official reassurance followed when it raised security concerns. No public statement welcomed Bangladeshi players. No explicit assurance was issued regarding safety.
ISOLATED INCIDENT? BANGLADESH DISAGREES
The ICC has been clear in its response. It believes Bangladesh has wrongly linked a domestic league development to an international tournament.
“Despite these efforts, the BCB maintained its position, repeatedly linking its participation in the tournament to a single, isolated and unrelated development,” the ICC said, adding that the linkage had “no bearing on the tournament’s security framework”.
From a governance standpoint, the argument is internally consistent. From Bangladesh’s perspective, however, it feels detached from lived reality.
For the Bangladeshi cricket fraternity, though, this was never merely about a player losing an IPL contract. It was about what the episode symbolised – a moment when political pressure appeared to outweigh a player’s right to dignity and security.
“If Mustafizur is deemed unwelcome at Eden Gardens in April for the IPL, why should the Bangladesh team be expected to play there in February during a World Cup?” is a question that has echoed across Dhaka’s cricket circles.
BCB director Faruque Ahmed articulated that sentiment bluntly earlier this month.
“Mustafizur is one of our country’s finest cricketers. When cricketers go out to play, they play with dignity and self-respect. So all of us – including the cricket board officials and myself – do not take it well when a cricketer is disrespected in any way. We feel it is an insult, and we are sorry and hurt by this.”
That emotional response may not fit neatly into an ICC security matrix, but it is no less valid for that.
WHEN THE BANGLADESH GOVERNMENT STEPPED IN
Crucially, this is no longer just a cricket board dispute. While there are suggestions that the Bangladesh Cricket Board is uneasy about missing a major ICC event, fully aware of the sporting consequences, the Bangladeshi government has formally taken ownership of the decision.
Sports adviser Asif Nazrul’s remarks following the ICC’s ruling marked a decisive escalation. He argued that security is not theoretical when a precedent already exists.
“The security risks involved in playing in India have not changed. These concerns are not based on assumptions or hypothetical analysis; they stem from a real incident,” he said.
Nazrul was unequivocal in his assessment of what happened to Mustafizur, describing those who pressured KKR and the BCCI as “extremists”.
“One of our country’s top players was removed from the IPL under pressure from extremists – plain and simple. The Indian cricket board asked him to leave India.”
Whether or not the BCCI accepts that characterisation, the Bangladeshi government clearly does. And governments, not sports bodies, ultimately decide whether their citizens can safely travel abroad.
Nazrul also made a pointed observation that undermines the ICC’s reliance on internal assessments.
“The ICC may say there are no security threats, but the ICC is not a country. The responsibility of security will lie with that country’s police and security agencies.”
From Bangladesh’s standpoint, nothing substantive has changed since the Mustafizur episode to justify renewed confidence.
“So what has changed since then that would convince us such extremist threats will not recur?” Nazrul asked. “If they could not ensure Mustafizur’s safety, how can they guarantee the safety of our players, journalists, and supporters?”
DOUBLE-STANDARDS?
There is also precedent elsewhere. India has consistently refused to travel to Pakistan for international events, including the Champions Trophy earlier this year, despite other teams touring the country. Australia are scheduled to play a T20I series in Pakistan before the World Cup, yet India’s stance has remained unchanged.
Pakistan, too, will not play their T20 World Cup matches in India, under a pre-arranged hybrid model agreement that allows India and Pakistan to compete at neutral venues at ICC events hosted by either country until 2027.
Perhaps the most damaging aspect of this controversy is not what was said, but what was not. Bangladesh believe the ICC failed to meaningfully engage with their concerns, falling back on standard security protocols to address an issue rooted in complex geopolitical tensions.
“The ICC has made no effort to convince us on this issue,” Nazrul said. “Instead of addressing the core incident, they spoke only about standard security procedures.”
In diplomatic terms, reassurance is not just about guards and barricades. It is about acknowledgement.
IS THE ICC’S PRECEDENT ARGUMENT WRONG?
The ICC is not wrong to worry about precedent. Relocating fixtures at short notice, in the absence of a formally recognised threat, could open floodgates in future tournaments.
But governance is also about discretion. And this is not a case conjured out of thin air.
BCB president Aminul Islam Bulbul made it clear that the request was grounded in responsibility, not defiance.
“When citizens travel abroad, it is the government’s responsibility to assess security risks – no one else’s,” he said. “Bowing our heads and exposing our players, journalists, and supporters to security risks could have serious consequences.”
Yes, political considerations may inform Bangladesh’s stance. But what they are asking for is not entirely unreasonable. Once a player is seen as dispensable under political pressure, trust erodes quickly.
This is also not about accusing India of being unsafe. It is about acknowledging that perceived safety matters as much as certified safety, particularly when governments are involved.
The ICC followed procedure. Bangladesh followed instinct and responsibility. The two inevitably collided.
Ultimately, this impasse is less about a failure of policy and more about a clash of responsibilities. The ICC is tasked with maintaining the structural integrity and predictability of a global calendar – a logistical feat that relies on established protocols and standardised assessments.
On the other hand, the BCB and its government are navigating a landscape of perceived vulnerability where the safety of their players and citizens is a priority that no third-party report can fully satisfy. When these two fundamental duties – administrative consistency and national security – pull in opposite directions, the resulting friction is felt far beyond the boardroom.
The real danger of a potential boycott lies in the fragmentation of a sport that is currently on the cusp of its most significant era of growth. As cricket prepares for its historic return to the Olympics in 2028, the world is watching to see if the game can transcend regional friction and operate as a cohesive global product.
If one of the sport’s most passionate nations is sidelined due to an inability to bridge the trust gap, it signals a fractured ecosystem to future hosts, sponsors, and the International Olympic Committee. At a time when cricket should be building bridges to new frontiers, this standoff serves as a reminder that for the sport to truly become global, it must first find a way to resolve the delicate balance between geopolitical reality and the unity of the game.
– Ends
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