Debt, Dependence, and the Illusion of Development: How Global Economic Governance Chains Bangladesh to Structural Injustice

In the first half of 2025, Bangladesh’s economic narrative has oscillated between optimism and anxiety. On the surface, an International Monetary Fund (IMF) bailout, new engagements with the World Bank, persistent calls for foreign direct investment (FDI), and soaring remittance inflows may appear promising. Yet, beneath these headline-friendly events lies a far deeper and more insidious reality: Bangladesh’s economic policies are being increasingly dictated not by domestic democratic imperatives, but by a global economic order designed to entrench dependence and undermine sovereignty.

At the heart of this global architecture are the Bretton Woods institutions—the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and the World Bank—originally created to stabilise the post–Second World War economy. Later joined by the World Trade Organization (WTO) in 1995, these institutions form what many now call the “Unholy Trinity” of global financial governance. Operating in close coordination with powerful entities such as the G7, the World Economic Forum (WEF), and transnational corporations (TNCs), and aided by complicit local elites, they form a broader apparatus—the Unholy Trinity Plus—that sustains a neo-colonial economic regime.

This system, while couched in the language of reform, development, and global integration, perpetuates a cycle of indebtedness, compliance, and compromised autonomy in countries like Bangladesh. For all its celebrated economic resilience and achievements in poverty reduction and export growth, Bangladesh remains ensnared within an externally-imposed development script—its policymaking shackled to the expectations of creditors, donors, and foreign investors.

In June 2025, the IMF disbursed an additional SDR 567 million (approximately USD 884 million) under its Extended Credit and Fund Facilities, along with USD 453 million through the Rapid Financing Instrument—bringing total IMF assistance to USD 4.1 billion. But this sum is still dwarfed by the USD 30 billion in remittances sent by Bangladeshi migrant workers during FY2024–25. These workers, whose tireless labour props up the economy, have no say in the economic decisions that affect their families back home.

Worse still, the funds came with strings attached: adoption of a crawling-peg exchange rate that gradually devalues the taka, tax reforms designed to please foreign creditors, and cuts to subsidies and public expenditure. These measures, while presented as necessary macroeconomic reforms, have inflicted a devastating toll on ordinary citizens. Higher fuel prices, inflation, and value-added tax (VAT) hikes have made life unaffordable for millions, all while serving the interests of creditors and global investors.

Although the IMF’s messaging has grown more nuanced since the harsh structural adjustment programs of the 1980s and 90s, its core agenda remains unchanged: fiscal discipline, market liberalisation, and reduced government spending—all of which hit the poor hardest.

The World Bank, for its part, cloaks its interventions in the rhetoric of poverty alleviation and capacity-building. But in practice, its lending strategy in Bangladesh heavily favours infrastructure, energy, and digitisation—sectors that are not only prone to corruption and mismanagement, but also disproportionately benefit the business and political elite.

The Padma Bridge debacle stands as a cautionary tale. Initially stalled over corruption allegations (which the World Bank itself could not conclusively substantiate), the project exposed the dangers of both donor pressure and elite impunity. More recently, in April 2025, the Bank approved an $850 million loan package for port infrastructure and social protection programs. Yet even here, questions remain about who will truly benefit and how much of the funding will trickle down to those in need.

Often sidelined in public debate, the WTO plays a critical role in shaping Bangladesh’s export-oriented economy—particularly the ready-made garment (RMG) sector. Here, Bangladesh’s global competitiveness hinges on low wages, tax exemptions, and relaxed labour laws. Western fashion brands reap the bulk of the profits while Bangladeshi workers, mostly women, endure exploitative conditions.

The 2013 Rana Plaza disaster revealed the brutal underside of this model, yet reforms have remained superficial. Trade rules and intellectual property regimes favour Global North corporations, limiting Bangladesh’s policy flexibility and reinforcing its subordinate position in global value chains.

The situation Bangladesh finds itself in is not unique. Across the Global South, decades of debt-fuelled development have created a system of permanent economic dependency. As anthropologist David Graeber wrote in Debt: The First 5,000 Years, debt has always been more than an economic tool—it is a mechanism of political control and moral coercion.

In today’s global system, that control is institutionalised through policy conditionalities, ratings agencies, and market-driven governance. The IMF has effectively become a policy-maker, the World Bank an ideological enforcer, and the WTO a gatekeeper for capital mobility. National budgets, monetary policy, and development priorities are shaped not by popular mandates, but by the diktats of creditors and consultants.

Bangladeshi officials often lament that there is “no alternative.” But this is more an excuse than an economic truth. In reality, alternatives do exist—regional monetary arrangements, South-South cooperation, progressive taxation, capital controls, and domestic investment in food, energy, and public goods. What is lacking is not options, but political courage.

Take the 2025–26 national budget, for instance. While it totals Tk 7.9 trillion, more than Tk 1 trillion will be financed through foreign borrowing. The terms of these loans remain opaque, raising serious concerns about long-term sustainability. Yet, donor-prescribed reforms—FDI promotion, tariff rationalisation, and tax restructuring—are faithfully followed, even as public spending on health and education is slashed.

This is not pragmatic economic management. It is a submission to the Unholy Trinity Plus and a betrayal of democratic sovereignty.

Bangladesh does not need to turn inward or embrace autarky. It must, however, reclaim policy autonomy and shift from technocratic obedience to democratic self-determination. This means prioritising redistribution over GDP fetishism, investing in people rather than pandering to creditors, and confronting the domestic elite’s complicity in perpetuating inequality.

Critics may dismiss this as idealistic. Yet historical precedents abound. Malaysia imposed capital controls during the Asian financial crisis. Ecuador unilaterally audited and repudiated illegitimate debts. A rising wave of economists and civil society leaders across the Global South now call for debt justice, climate reparations, and a post-neoliberal global order.

If Bangladesh wishes to be more than just another footnote in the long ledger of exploited nations, it must break free from the narrative of dependency. The Unholy Trinity Plus will not dismantle itself. It is sustained by inertia, vested interests, and elite collaboration. What is needed now is bottom-up pressure—from civil society, trade unions, academia, and the media—to forge a new economic paradigm based on equity, dignity, and democratic accountability.

Development cannot be borrowed forever. True development begins with reclaiming the right to decide. Each new IMF tranche, each World Bank loan, and each WTO mandate adds another link to the chain of structural dependence. It’s time Bangladesh rewrites its own script—not as a recipient of conditional aid, but as a sovereign nation with the courage to chart a just and independent path forward.