By Uzma Ehtasham
In a region long scarred by suspicion and rivalry, few moments stand out as forcefully as the recent episode that unfolded between Pakistan and India. It was a moment charged with danger, where rash decisions could have hurled the subcontinent into deeper chaos. Yet, through courage, clarity and what many in Pakistan call divine providence, the tide was turned. The Modi government’s baseless accusations of terrorism were merely a curtain behind which lurked a calculated military aggression aimed at destabilizing Pakistan. But the script did not go according to India’s plan. Pakistan’s response—measured, forceful, and unified—marked a defining episode in the nation’s history, not just as a display of military prowess, but as a moment of national reaffirmation.
Named Bunyān Mursos, the Pakistani operation became more than a strategic retaliation. It embodied a collective national spirit, a steel wall forged by the people, the army, and the government standing shoulder to shoulder. While India’s government beat its drum of propaganda, claiming phantom victories through a partisan media machine, Pakistan opted to speak less and act more. The truth had no need for amplification. It was written in the sheer effectiveness of Pakistan’s countermeasures, the coherence of its response, and the solidarity of its people. When Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif addressed the nation during a thanksgiving ceremony, he didn’t merely list military achievements. He painted a picture of faith in action.
A conviction in the purpose for which Pakistan was founded—the belief that this country was willed into being by divine design—echoed through his words. And when he shared how Army Chief General Syed Asim Munir had personally informed him of Indian missile strikes on sensitive sites including Nur Khan Airbase, it revealed not just the severity of the threat, but the resolve that had been quietly building. General Munir’s determination to answer fire with fire was not driven by vengeance, but by necessity—a pledge to protect, not provoke. The names of Pathankot and Udhampur now ring differently. No longer just locations on a map, they became the turning points where Pakistan’s precision strikes through its Shaheen and Al-Fatah missiles shattered any illusion of Indian invincibility.
As missiles rained and the world held its breath, it was India that stepped back. The call for a ceasefire came not from a position of strength but out of sheer need. For the Pakistani leadership, accepting that offer was not about chest-thumping. It was about demonstrating the very maturity and restraint the region so desperately needs. At the heart of this measured response lies a principle that Pakistan has long espoused but rarely has the world acknowledged: Islam is not a faith of confrontation, but of peace. The Quran’s injunction—to incline toward peace if the enemy seeks it—guided both the military and political leadership in their conduct. There was no triumphalism. No indulgence in revenge. Only a somber recognition that war, even when justifiable, is never a victory unless it leads to peace.
And peace, as Prime Minister Sharif reminded the world, remains elusive until the Kashmir issue is resolved with justice and dignity. The conduct of Narendra Modi’s government during this period has drawn widespread scrutiny. Instead of acknowledging the failure of an aggressive approach, India’s leadership appears to be doubling down on hostility. This posture, rooted in a bruised ego rather than strategy, offers no solace to the millions living on both sides of the border. Modi now faces a choice: to cling to the narrative of domination or to pivot towards genuine dialogue. The latter would be a courageous act of leadership. The former, a continuation of a perilous gamble that already backfired once. It is here that the world community must raise its voice.
It cannot afford to remain indifferent as two nuclear-armed neighbors teeter on the edge. It is time for the global conscience—especially those powers that preach peace elsewhere—to recognize the urgency of this moment. Diplomatic engagement is not a courtesy, it is a necessity. Equally, within India itself, voices of reason must rise above the din of hyper-nationalism. Its civil society, its opposition leaders, its intellectuals—many of whom still believe in the ideals of justice and mutual coexistence—must speak up before more damage is done. What Pakistan has shown in this critical hour is that deterrence is not always about superior weaponry. It is about unity. It is about leadership that can steady the ship when storms arrive. And above all, it is about a belief that peace is the ultimate strength, not the absence of conflict but the triumph of wisdom over war-mongering.
The echoes of Bunyān Mursos will not fade easily. Not because they brought momentary pride to a nation, but because they reminded the world—and perhaps Pakistan itself—of who we are when we stand together, calmly but firmly. In the face of aggression, Pakistan chose clarity over chaos. And in doing so, it not only protected its sovereignty but reclaimed its narrative. In a time where misinformation travels faster than truth, Pakistan’s restraint and resolve offer a lesson. That even in a volatile neighborhood, dignity can be defended without descending into darkness. That a show of strength can also be a call for sanity. And that perhaps the truest measure of power is not in the missiles one fires—but in the peace one dares to pursue.
(The writer is a public health professional, journalist, and possesses expertise in health communication, having keen interest in national and international affairs, can be reached at uzma@metro-morning.com)
