During a recent joint press briefing with Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi, President Donald Trump dismissed any involvement of the US "deep state" in Bangladesh’s internal affairs following the recent political upheaval in the country.
This is not the first time the "deep state" has been mentioned, every time there is a seismic shift in players, those words are mentioned—raising questions, what is it?
If democracy is a grand opera performed on the well-lit stage of governance, the deep state is the cabal of shadowy figures whispering from behind the curtains, orchestrating the spectacle unseen.
It is the labyrinthine network of unelected power brokers—intelligence agencies, military-industrial complexes, entrenched bureaucrats, corporate titans, and clandestine operatives—who weave the fabric of policy and power beyond the reach of the electorate.
The term itself, an import from Turkey’s “derin devlet,” has long transcended its origins, slithering into the lexicon of global politics. It conjures the image of a parallel state, a government within a government, where real authority does not lie with the elected leaders who grace our television screens but with an entrenched, self-sustaining elite who thrive in the obscurity of classified files and encrypted conversations.
Machinations that outlast governments
Elections may change governments, but the deep state remains steadfast, an immutable force immune to the vicissitudes of political tides.
Prime ministers and presidents may come and go, their fates sealed by the ballot or the bullet, but the mandarins of the deep state remain unmoved, lurking in the corridors of power, ensuring that the machinery of statecraft never strays too far from its established course.
Take, for instance, the United States, where intelligence agencies like the CIA and FBI, the Pentagon’s generals, and an array of think tanks and lobbyists form an unholy alliance that wields power irrespective of the elected administration.
Whether it is the assassination of JFK, the Iran-Contra affair, or the "forever wars" in the Middle East, the fingerprints of this shadowy entity are omnipresent, subtly steering the ship of state under the guise of "national interest."
Wars, after all, are not always waged for security; they are also fought for profit, influence, and the consolidation of power.
The military-industrial complex—a term immortalised by President Eisenhower—remains a vital organ of the deep state.
It thrives on perpetual conflict, where peace is anathema, and war is a business model. Defence contractors, arms manufacturers, intelligence operatives, and bureaucratic hawks form a symbiotic ecosystem where foreign policy decisions are often dictated not by diplomacy but by the lucrative prospects of warfare.
From the Vietnam quagmire to the War on Terror, from the clandestine coups in Latin America to the proxy wars in the Middle East, the deep state ensures that conflict is an unending enterprise, keeping its gears well-oiled with blood and money.
The fourth estate or the fifth column?
No clandestine power structure would be complete without its own narrative engineers.
Enter the corporate media—the mouthpiece of the deep state, where information is curated, perspectives are manufactured, and dissent is anesthetised under the guise of "objectivity."
The mainstream media, often owned by the same corporate behemoths that influence state policy, ensures that public perception aligns seamlessly with deep-state interests.
Be it justifying invasions, demonising foreign adversaries, or whitewashing covert operations, the media becomes the grand illusionist, ensuring that the public remains entranced by the theatre of democracy while the real strings are pulled from the shadows.
While generals wage wars and spies orchestrate intrigues, another dimension of the deep state operates in boardrooms and financial institutions.
Global banking cartels, billion-dollar hedge funds, and corporate monopolies exercise economic hegemony, dictating monetary policies and influencing sovereign debt, often reducing entire nations to mere pawns in a game of financial chess.
The 2008 financial collapse was a glaring testament to this power: reckless bankers brought the world to the brink, only to be bailed out with taxpayers’ money while ordinary citizens bore the brunt. In such a landscape, democracy becomes a façade, and sovereignty is but an illusion when economies are dictated not by elected governments but by an opaque network of financial overlords.
A necessary evil?
Yet, for all its ominous connotations, the deep state is not a monolith of malevolence. Some argue that it provides continuity, ensuring that states do not fall prey to the incompetence of transient governments.
Intelligence agencies, after all, are tasked with safeguarding national security, and a professional bureaucracy ensures that governance does not collapse with every change in leadership.
The question, then, is not whether the deep state exists, but rather, to what extent it should wield influence.
At what point does it cease to be a stabilising force and become a power unto itself, subverting the very democracy it claims to protect?
The deep state is not a tinfoil-hat conspiracy but an undeniable reality—albeit one wrapped in layers of secrecy and denial. It operates in the twilight zone between governance and intrigue, between national interest and self-interest, between order and insubordination.
It is both the puppet master and the safeguard, the stabiliser and the saboteur, the indispensable and the insidious.
As citizens, we are often mere spectators in this grand theatre of power, watching an act of democracy while the real play unfolds behind the velvet curtains.
The challenge, then, is not merely to acknowledge its existence but to ensure that its clandestine hand does not choke the very democracy it claims to uphold.
Because in the end, the deep state does not fear governments. It does not fear revolutions. It does not fear ballots or bullets.
It fears exposure. And that is why it thrives in the dark.