In the restless foothills of South Asia, the quiet serenity of Pahalgam was shattered—first by violence, then by politics. In the aftermath of the tragic Pahalgam incident, where lives were lost and tensions inflamed, the Indian government led by Prime Minister Narendra Modi has chosen not the path of mourning or reconciliation, but rather the well-worn avenue of political theatre. What should have been a moment of reflection has been recast as a propaganda piece, stitched together by a leadership that appears ever more willing to leverage tragedy for electoral ambition. The narrative around the incident has evolved—not towards truth, but toward calculated distraction. Instead of a transparent investigation or a measured diplomatic response, India has engaged in what now appears to be a choreographed escalation.
The Modi administration’s relentless efforts to blame Pakistan—despite failing to present a shred of credible evidence—speak more to the inner workings of a government chasing votes than to one genuinely concerned about regional security. This is not just political posturing; it is a deliberate playbook. With state elections looming, and Modi’s Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) under increasing pressure to maintain its grip on power, the tragedy has been weaponized to evoke a familiar chord among the electorate: nationalist fervor. When bread-and-butter issues like inflation, unemployment, and agrarian distress fail to inspire confidence, the specter of Pakistan serves as a reliable diversion. It is a tired but effective tactic—stirring fear, invoking patriotism, and silencing dissent.
Cross-border skirmishes, now into their second week, have turned this manufactured crisis into a powder keg. There is nothing spontaneous about the tension—no incident that could not be resolved through diplomacy. Instead, what we are witnessing is the deliberate provocation of a neighbor, a region, and a fragile peace. India’s loud drumbeats of aggression are not signs of strength; they are symptoms of insecurity masked by bravado. In an even more cynical twist, Delhi has now urged the International Monetary Fund to reassess its support for Pakistan’s economic recovery. This is not policy—it is pettiness dressed as diplomacy. It is a move designed not to protect India’s interests, but to wound a struggling Pakistan just as it seeks to rebuild. At a time when Pakistan is navigating its own complex challenges—economic pressures, climate vulnerability, and instability on its western frontier—India’s actions suggest not regional leadership, but regional sabotage.
Pakistan, for its part, has responded with measured vigilance. The civilian and military leadership has not been baited into the hysteria. Instead, they have reaffirmed their commitment to sovereignty, calling attention to the reckless nature of India’s provocations. The special corps commanders conference, chaired by Army Chief General Syed Asim Munir, delivered a stern but sober message: Pakistan will defend itself if forced to—but it prefers peace. Meanwhile, Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif has taken the diplomatic route, warning key allied nations that India’s unchecked belligerence could have catastrophic consequences not just for Pakistan, but for the region and the world. These warnings are not overblown. The region’s nuclear reality makes every inflammatory statement, every border incursion, a gamble with lives far beyond the immediate theatre.
India’s hint at suspending the Indus Waters Treaty—an act tantamount to water warfare—should alarm the international community. Water is not a bargaining chip. It is a lifeline. Threatening to withhold it is not just hostile; it is inhumane. And yet, international responses have been timid. The United States, whose influence in the region remains significant, has straddled both sides with a curious lack of clarity. In a statement that seemed to appease both camps but satisfy neither, the US Vice President labelled Pakistan “responsible” while gently nudging India to exercise restraint. But nudges are not enough. At a time of such dangerous brinkmanship, diplomacy must be firm. Appeasement only emboldens the aggressor. If Washington seeks stability, it must be unambiguous in condemning adventurism—and equally clear in demanding justice before gestures of exoneration.
Contrast this with China’s unambiguous position. A nation often described as Pakistan’s “iron brother,” China has spoken not in hushed tones but in bold declarations. Victor Gao, one of China’s most recognised foreign policy voices, minced no words in a CNN interview when he warned India not to misread Beijing’s commitment to Islamabad. His message was more than symbolic—it was strategic. At a time when India is pushing boundaries, China’s voice offers a stark reminder that Pakistan is not isolated, and that miscalculations can have far-reaching consequences. So what now? Modi’s government stands at a juncture where it must decide whether to act as a steward of peace or a provocateur of chaos. The choice is not between war and weakness, but between mature diplomacy and reckless showmanship. Pakistan has extended the hand of de-escalation more than once.
It is India that has chosen to slap it away with each passing threat, each accusation lacking proof, each military movement that risks turning tension into catastrophe. This moment, if handled with care, could become an inflection point. It could become the start of a genuine conversation on peace, water cooperation, border protocols, and economic interdependence. But if it is squandered—if nationalist theatre once again trumps statesmanship—then the consequences will be profound and lasting. And for what? A few seats in a state assembly? A spike in poll ratings? A chance to paint an adversary as the eternal villain? The people of the subcontinent deserve more. They deserve leadership that values life over legacy, dialogue over drama. They deserve a future where peace is not held hostage to political survival. If India fails to see this, if it continues down this path of weaponized nationalism and diplomatic vandalism, then history will remember not just the tragedy of Pahalgam, but the tragic choices made in its name.