Part Two of my op‑ed, “The Unfulfilled Promise – A Deeper Dive into Bangladesh’s Air Power Modernization Critique.”

 3 August 2025

This is the second installment in a series probing Bangladesh’s defense posture. Here, we dissect how grandiose plans like Forces Goal 2030 have failed to translate into real deterrence or air dominance. If Part One was a wake-up call, this is the autopsy of complacency.

I. The Fiscal Mirage: Sizeable Budgets, Tiny Outcomes

Defence spending in Bangladesh has surged—from $774 million in 2005 to nearly $4.3 billion in 2025. Projections for FY2025–26 suggest ৳50,000–55,000 crore (approximately $5.3–5.8 billion), the largest ever. Yet only about 20% of that—৳8,000–10,000 crore ($800 million–$1 billion)—is allocated to procurement of tangible assets.

Contrast that with $5.2 billion spent between 2012 and 2017 under Forces Goal 2030, and yet Myanmar has outpaced us with new Su‑30SME fighters, delivery of which concluded in December 2024   .

Personnel and maintenance swallow half our defense allocation. Flying time still hovers at career-day levels. New equipment remains stuck in planning cycles.

II. Procurement Paralysis: Words Without Wings

Despite promises to acquire 16 multirole fighters and 8 attack helicopters, no contracts have materialized. Meanwhile, the fleet consists mainly of 16 Chengdu F‑7BGI fighters, 16 Yak‑130 trainers, and an aging MiG‑29 fleet reduced to only 3 operational jets   .

Yes, Bangladesh did acquire 5 C‑130Js from the UK, delivered by June 2024—but for transport, not combat. Each passing delay leaves trainees flying obsolete platforms. The July 2025 crash into Uttara school—killing 31 civilians and the pilot on his first solo flight—is tragic testimony to systemic failure (see Part One).

III. Drone Divide: Surface-Level Integration in a Drone Era

Myanmar fields Su‑30SMEs, JF-17s, and critical strike platforms—not just ISR drones. Bangladesh, meanwhile, limits drone ops to rudimentary ISR units with Bayraktar TB2 and Bramor C4EYE assets embedded in Army Aviation—no unified drone command, no strike capability, and no domestic drone production beyond basic licensing    .

The strategic dividend of drones isn’t measured in numbers—it’s operational doctrine. In that category, we remain mute. Myanmar’s drone thrust in Rakhine and the junta’s operational use of CH‑3 strike drones remain beyond our reach.

IV. Strategic Blindspot: Myanmar Is the Adversary—Are We Prepared?

Our planners still treat India as our primary air calculus. Meanwhile, Myanmar has quietly declared its capabilities via acquisition of six Su‑30SME multirole fighters, delivered and commissioned by December 15, 2024, under a Russian loan deal valued at $400 million   .

Each Su‑30 is a twin-seat, twin-engine P‑8 capable air superiority fighter, outfitted with Bars radar, thrust-vectoring, 12 hardpoints, and missile ranges exceeding 3,000 km. The junta now fields between 8 and 10 Su‑30SMEs, with robust payload, BVR capability, and combat-proven avionics  .

Myanmar also employs Mi‑35P attack helicopters, giving them direct ground strike capacity we do not have.

V. The Scariest Scenario They Haven’t Planned For

Imagine this at 5:15 a.m.: Burmese Su‑30s bomb Tejgaon’s BAF Base Bashar, right next to Shahjalal International Airport. Both runways cratered. Radar fried. Air ops suspended. All foreign and civilian flight ceases. The Air Force, civil aviation, and passenger evacuation are paralyzed in minutes.

Has any war-game, simulation, or wargaming ever prepared for this? No public evidence or policy document suggests so.

Meanwhile, Myanmar maintains bases in Rakhine armed with Calibrated strike packages and proximity to Bangladesh’s southeast corridor, absolutely capable of this operation  .

Bangladesh has no properly fortified backup airbases. If Bashar Airbase is hit, we don’t have secondary runways ready for immediate use. There’s no nationwide radar backup system, no protocol for rapid counterattacks, and no clear response plan in case of an aerial strike. In short, we are dangerously centralized and completely exposed. This isn’t just a gap—it’s a gaping hole in our national defense planning.

VI. The Strategic Equation

Metric Bangladesh A.F. Myanmar A.F.

Combat Jets ~82 (3 MiG‑29 operational + 35 F‑7s) ~130 (including 8–10 Su‑30SME + JF‑17s)  

Attack Helicopters None in strike role Mi‑35P and other gunships

Drones ISR-only; no indigenous strike Integrated combat drone deployments

Budget (2025) ≈ $4.3B ~$1.3–1.5B

Doctrine In development; no threat-specific plan Flight-tested threat posture, active planning

Bangladesh spends more, invests less. Myanmar spends less, builds deterrence.

VII. Conclusion: Time to Stop Building Air Shows

Bangladesh’s modernization narrative is built on clever lines on paper—not teeth in the sky. Forces Goal 2030 offered promise; reality delivered paralysis. For all the Bangabandhu flyers and three-dimensional rhetoric, we are not deterred—we’re adversarial blind.

Myanmar is the enemy at the door. They’ve asserted air supremacy. They’ve outmaneuvered us in procurement, platforms, doctrine, and deterrence. And if they wanted—they would strike within ten minutes.

We can still fix this: doctrine reform, hardened airbases, distributed radar, drone strike integration, and serious counter-air planning. But if we continue to act like our airpower can be papered over with annual parades and glossy press releases, the skies over Dhaka may tell a different story one day.

This country needs more than post-colonial optics. It needs strategic clarity, aerial resilience, and an Air Force worthy of defense—not display.