In the aftermath of the devastating terrorist attack in Pahalgam that left 28 dead, India finds itself at a geopolitical and moral crossroads. Prime Minister Narendra Modi, cutting short a significant diplomatic engagement in Saudi Arabia, convened an urgent meeting of the Cabinet Committee on Security (CCS) to assess the crisis. The Pahalgam massacre has shaken the very foundation of the government’s claim of restored normalcy in Jammu and Kashmir (J&K) and raises serious questions about both internal preparedness and regional diplomatic strategy. What unfolds now could redefine South Asia’s political landscape for years to come.
The national response, particularly from hyper-nationalist quarters and segments of the so-called “Godi media,” has been one of belligerent outrage. Calls for a “final solution” have echoed ominously, revealing not only the ideological polarization of India’s political discourse but also the high bar the government has set for itself since the Balakot airstrikes of 2019. Those airstrikes, launched in response to the Pulwama attack, targeted a suspected Lashkar-e-Tayyaba training camp and were hailed domestically as a moment of bold assertion of sovereignty and strength.
That very strike carried historical symbolism. On the same date—May 6—but nearly two centuries earlier in 1831, the forces of Maharaja Ranjit Singh had eliminated Syed Ahmed Barelvi and his followers at Balakot. Barelvi had launched a jihad against the Sikhs, marking the site as one with a long history of religiously-fueled conflict. The Modi government’s retaliation in 2019 played into this historical continuity, galvanizing nationalist sentiment and paving the way for a landslide BJP victory in the general elections that followed.
Internationally, the situation was aided by then U.S. President Donald Trump, who played a de-escalatory role. Trump’s administration helped cool tensions between India and Pakistan and may have even helped secure the quick release of an Indian Air Force pilot captured during a skirmish. Unlike previous episodes, where prisoners were paraded and propaganda milked for weeks, Pakistan returned the pilot with unusual speed. It is believed that this move was influenced by back-channel diplomacy involving Saudi Arabia and the United States, with implicit understandings about post-election dialogue.
However, that expected thaw never arrived. Within months of its re-election, the Modi government revoked Article 370 of the Constitution, stripping Jammu and Kashmir of its special status and dividing it into two Union territories. This decision closed the door on any immediate possibility of meaningful Indo-Pak dialogue, reinforcing a doctrine that viewed Pakistan solely through the prism of terrorism. India’s policy since then has been one of strategic disengagement, rooted in the belief that talks are meaningless until cross-border terror ceases.
For nearly seven years following the abrogation of Article 370, local political figures in J&K were kept under detention, with elections only held in April-May 2024. The Union government repeatedly asserted that terrorism was under control and normalcy had returned. Economic activity was said to be booming, and tourism was at a record high. The government appeared convinced by its own narrative. Yet, the Pahalgam massacre has unmasked the fragility behind these assumptions. That a group of militants could target a prominent tourist hub undetected is not just a tragic failure—it is a glaring lapse in national security.
To fully grasp the complexity of the current scenario, one must understand the shifting dynamics within Pakistan. Since the U.S. withdrawal from Afghanistan in 2021, Pakistan’s strategic depth has eroded. Once the Taliban’s benefactor, Pakistan now finds itself at odds with the same group, primarily over their inability or unwillingness to curb the Tehrik-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP). The insurgency in Balochistan has also intensified, threatening China’s Belt and Road Initiative (BRI), particularly the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC).
India, meanwhile, was accused of being complicit in the March 2025 hijacking of the Quetta-Peshawar Jaffar Express, which claimed 26 lives, including 15 Pakistani soldiers. The similarity in the casualty count between that incident and the Pahalgam attack has not gone unnoticed in Islamabad, raising suspicions and prompting retaliatory postures. In a fiery speech last week, Pakistan’s Army Chief, Gen. Syed Asif Munir, resurrected the two-nation theory and described Kashmir as Pakistan’s “jugular vein.” Such statements are often preambles to covert operations by the ISI, and the timing of the Pahalgam attack suggests the green light had already been given.
The internal politics of Pakistan further complicate the picture. Former Prime Minister Imran Khan remains imprisoned despite his overwhelming popularity, having led his party to a win in the 2024 parliamentary elections. His nationalist-Islamist appeal and cricketing legacy give him a pan-Pakistan reach, making him a threat to the military establishment. Khan’s ouster and incarceration appear orchestrated by the entrenched Sharif-Bhutto dynasties and the current military leadership, creating deep fissures within the state machinery. Ironically, India has failed to exploit this opportunity by ignoring Khan’s plight, despite his potential to act as a civilian counterweight to the Army.
Faced with public outrage and the precedent of Balakot, the Modi government finds itself in a policy bind. Immediate military retaliation could risk escalation with a nuclear-armed neighbor. Hence, the CCS has opted for intermediate measures—suspending the Indus Waters Treaty, reducing diplomatic missions, and closing the Attari border post. Each of these carries risks. Intervening in the Indus waters system, governed by a World Bank-mediated treaty, could internationalise the dispute. Shutting the border post disrupts civilian lives more than state interests. These symbolic gestures lack the dramatic impact of a military strike, yet they may help build pressure.
The threat of Balakot 2.0 looms. Some speculate it may be timed to influence the upcoming Bihar Assembly elections. However, repeating the past without strategic recalibration is fraught with risk. India cannot afford another scenario where an aging MiG-21 is shot down and paraded globally, undercutting the message of deterrence. The Pahalgam attack shows that deterrence established after 2019 has failed. Moreover, global distractions like U.S. President Donald Trump’s ongoing trade confrontations may provide India a rare window to act decisively without fear of external intervention—especially from China, which has so far been circumspect post-Galwan.
But what lies ahead requires more than symbolism or isolated strikes. The complete diplomatic boycott of Pakistan has created a vacuum that others—China, Turkey, Iran—might fill. Building walls instead of strategic bridges based on informed assessments is unviable. History proves that engaging with the military-backed Sharifs or Bhuttos has borne little fruit. The Musharraf era, despite its own double games, had offered some potential, precisely because the general commanded both political and military authority. However, his fall in 2007, after a standoff with the judiciary and the bloody Lal Masjid episode, turned the tide and re-empowered the ISI. Shortly thereafter, the seeds of the Mumbai 26/11 attacks were sown.
The lesson here is that ignoring historical disputes does not make them disappear. India must evolve a more layered strategy that combines visible deterrence with targeted diplomatic engagement. Encouraging anti-military political elements within Pakistan, particularly leaders like Imran Khan, could open new channels. India must reclaim the strategic initiative not merely by force but by outthinking the adversary.
With Tahawwur Rana, a key accused in the 26/11 case, now potentially in Indian custody, New Delhi holds a card that can be used both diplomatically and symbolically. But the path ahead is narrow and fraught. A reckless military push could ignite a conflict neither side can afford. A nuanced blend of diplomacy, pressure tactics, and strategic outreach—particularly to civilian Pakistani actors—is the only sustainable route. The Modi government, with its decisive style and rhetorical prowess, must now rise to the challenge of statecraft. In this moment of reckoning, India must choose between a headline-grabbing reprisal and a lasting regional strategy that actually secures its people and borders. The world, and history, are watching.
Dipak Kurmi
