In mourning, in strength

The tragedy in Pahalgam has shaken many across the region. Innocent lives were lost and families torn apart. As Pakistanis, we grieve. We do not find solace in the suffering of others. Our instinct is to mourn alongside those who have lost their loved ones, not to politicize their pain.

And yet, almost immediately, there was a familiar rush to assign blame without proof, to point fingers at Pakistan as though tragedy itself were a script already written.

This rush to judgment is not surprising. It fits a pattern that has unfolded over decades. Each time unrest strikes in Occupied Kashmir, the first instinct of many in New Delhi is not introspection but projection. Instead of asking why discontent continues to smoulder after seventy-eight years of occupation, the narrative is twisted to suggest that Pakistan alone is to blame for every fire that burns in the valley.

But the truth remains – stubborn and unavoidable. Kashmir’s agony is not manufactured across a border. It is born of history, injustice and broken promises. It is not Pakistan that stripped Kashmiris of their special status. It is not Pakistan that has encouraged demographic changes, land seizures and political disenfranchisement. The story of Occupied Kashmir is long and painful, stretching back centuries through the rule of ancient dynasties, through Mughal annexations, Afghan brutality, Sikh conquest, Dogra oppression – and finally into modern-day occupation. Since 1947, it has been India that has ruled Kashmir against the will of its people, not Pakistan.

In moments like this, it is important to remember who we are. Pakistan mourns. Pakistan stands with those who have suffered. We do not dance on graves. When tragedy struck the Jaffar Express in Pakistan, costing many lives, it was not lost on anyone that some across the border found it a moment for celebration rather than sorrow. That is not the path we choose.

Even global powers recognise the complexity that India refuses to acknowledge. US President Trump, in responding to the Pahalgam attack, made clear that he would not intervene. He emphasised his friendship with both nations but saw no benefit in inserting himself into a struggle so deeply rooted. His choice was a reminder that Kashmir is not a story that can be simplified for short-term political gain. It is a wound with layers of history that cannot be wished away with accusations.

What makes India’s response even more revealing is the self-inflicted damage that followed. In the aftermath of the attack, Pakistan closed its airspace to Indian carriers. The economic impact has been immediate and severe. Indian airlines are now losing an estimated half a billion dollars every month. Ticket prices have surged, travel times have lengthened, and everyday citizens are paying the price for decisions made in anger, not strategy.

This is the real cost of refusing to reflect. It is not just the dignity of others that is sacrificed, but the well-being of one’s own people. A mature nation pauses after tragedy. It investigates, it gathers evidence, it seeks the truth. It does not lash out blindly and harm its own in the process.

Pakistan, during its National Security Council meeting, demonstrated what maturity looks like in moments of crisis. The government responded firmly, making it clear that any diversion of water under the Indus Waters Treaty would be treated as an act of war. Bilateral treaties were suspended where necessary. Yet there was a clear line drawn between political action and human decency. Pakistan did not take out its anger on Sikh pilgrims travelling across its land. Pilgrims were treated with respect, their religious rights safeguarded, their dignity protected. Even as political ties were cut, human bonds were not.

This is no small thing. India often claims to be a secular democracy, yet its actions continue to betray that claim. In contrast, Pakistan, even in moments of heightened tension, refused to politicise religion. We do not play politics with people’s faith. We do not punish the innocent to score points. We respect humanity, even when others do not.

The deeper test for Pakistan lies ahead. Some would like nothing more than to bait us into a reaction, to entangle us in provocations that derail our focus. We must not fall for it. The real test after Pahalgam is not how loudly we defend ourselves, but how patiently we stay the course. Our economy is stabilising. Our voice on the world stage is growing stronger. Our partnerships are deepening, particularly with nations looking to Pakistan for leadership in critical areas like minerals and regional stability.

True strength is not in shouting back. It is in refusing to be distracted from the future we are building.

Kashmir’s future must be one of dignity, self-determination and peace. That will not come through blame games. It will not come through policies of demographic engineering or military suppression. It will only come when the people most affected are finally given their rightful place at the table.

Until then, Pakistan must mourn with integrity, support with consistency, and lead with wisdom. Our best answer to provocation is not escalation. It is resilience.

History is watching. So is the world. Let it see a Pakistan that is patient – not because it is weak, but because it is strong enough to know that some battles are won not by the loudest voice, but by the longest vision.

The writer is a non-resident fellow at the CISS. He posts/tweets @umarwrites