In the early 19th century, the East India Company dominated not merely through superior weaponry, but through its ability to exploit division, corruption, and the ambitions of local elites. Two centuries later, the parallel is unmistakable. Washington’s “deep state”—a fusion of intelligence bureaucracy, diplomatic muscle, and corporate lobbying—functions today as the modern East India Company in South Asia. The instruments have changed: gone are the gunboats and monopolies, replaced by NGOs, cultural programs, and social media campaigns. But the mission has scarcely shifted. It remains one of securing resources, installing pliable governments, and denying rivals—China most of all—a secure foothold in the region.

Sri Lanka’s economic implosion in 2022, Pakistan’s cyclical implosions, Bangladesh’s recent unrest, and the aborted uprising in Nepal all bear traces of foreign interest disguised as benevolent reform. The rhetoric is familiar: democracy, human rights, youth empowerment. Yet the reality is more transactional, more calculated. In Nepal, unlike its neighbors, the attempt faltered. The difference was not in the scale of discontent or in the grievances of the protesters, but in the patriotic resolve of Nepal’s armed forces, which chose to guard sovereignty rather than surrender it.

The method of foreign intervention in our time is subtle. Instead of soldiers landing on foreign shores, there is the slow infiltration of funding streams labeled as capacity-building projects. NGOs champion anti-corruption campaigns, cultural initiatives flourish, and youth movements are amplified. On the surface, none of this appears malign; indeed, many of the grievances raised by protesters are genuine. But the larger question is not what the protesters believe, but whose agenda their anger ultimately serves. The answer, more often than not, is that of foreign powers seeking to bend fragile states to their strategic needs.

The South Asian theater offers a pattern. In Nepal, the........

© Blitz