close
Tuesday June 17, 2025

How India is turning grief into geopolitical leverage

By Humayun Aziz Sandeela
May 02, 2025
Indian security forces personnel escort an ambulance carrying the bodies of tourists who were killed in a suspected militant attack near Pahalgam, outside the police control room in Srinagar. — Reuters/File
Indian security forces personnel escort an ambulance carrying the bodies of tourists who were killed in a suspected militant attack near Pahalgam, outside the police control room in Srinagar. — Reuters/File

The April 22 killings in Pahalgam—a tranquil valley turned into a graveyard—claimed the lives of 26 people, including Indian nationals, local Kashmiris, and foreign tourists, while injuring over 20 others. As expressions of grief poured in from across the world, India responded not with introspection or investigative resolve, but with strategic maneuvering. Instead of probing how such a large-scale attack could occur in one of the most militarized zones on earth, New Delhi quickly resorted to deflection—blaming Pakistan without presenting credible evidence and invoking a familiar narrative of victimhood to justify policy escalations.

Among the most consequential outcomes was India’s abrupt decision to suspend the Indus Waters Treaty (IWT)—a landmark 1960 agreement brokered by the World Bank that has withstood several wars and crises between the two neighbors. This decision, unilateral in nature, raises legal concerns. Under international law, particularly the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties, suspension requires mutual consent or evidence of material breach—neither of which appears substantiated in this case. Pakistan has categorically denied any involvement in the Pahalgam incident, and so far, India has produced no conclusive evidence tying the attack to Islamabad.

Pakistan’s National Security Committee, chaired by Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif, promptly condemned the move, calling any interference with water flows an “act of war.” In response, Islamabad downgraded diplomatic ties, closed the Wagah border, and suspended bilateral trade—a sequence of reactions that reflects the gravity of the moment and the real risk of escalation. In a region where water is not just a natural resource but a geopolitical lifeline, such brinkmanship is particularly dangerous.

Indian media outlets and prominent figures such as Gaurav Arya and Arnab Goswami were quick to assign blame to Pakistan, echoing the tone of 2019 when the Pulwama attack was politicized during an election cycle. Notably, former Jammu & Kashmir Governor Satya Pal Malik later revealed that Pulwama could have been prevented, citing ignored intelligence warnings. The Pahalgam incident now appears to follow a similar trajectory—where tragedy becomes a tool for political utility rather than a moment for national reckoning.

The timing of U.S. Vice President JD Vance’s visit to India, coinciding with the Pahalgam attack, has drawn comparisons to the 2000 Chattisinghpora massacre, which occurred during President Clinton’s South Asia trip. Following the Pahalgam incident, India moved swiftly to announce the procurement of 26 French Rafale jets and opened discussions with the U.S. on acquiring F-35 fighter aircraft. While defense modernization is a legitimate policy objective, the alignment of these announcements with a moment of national mourning has raised eyebrows. Vance’s pledge to support India’s “fight against terrorism,” while intended as solidarity, risks being interpreted as an endorsement of militarization rather than diplomacy.

India’s long-term strategic calculus appears to extend beyond immediate posturing. Having struggled to achieve its objectives through covert operations in Balochistan and Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, New Delhi seems to have recalibrated its approach—casting itself as the perennial victim in Kashmir to garner international sympathy. Analysts have often referenced the idea that “the path to Balochistan lies through Kashmir,” highlighting a regional doctrine where domestic insurgency and cross-border diplomacy intersect. The way the Pahalgam incident is framed—attributing blame to Pakistan, invoking terrorism, and intensifying security measures—follows this strategic arc.

By portraying Kashmiri dissent as foreign-sponsored terrorism, especially after the revocation of Article 370 in 2019, the Indian state has steadily advanced a narrative that delegitimizes local grievances. This framing not only facilitates internal repression but also deflects external criticism. In this context, the Pahalgam tragedy becomes more than a security lapse—it becomes a pretext for demographic engineering, electoral posturing, and geopolitical positioning.

Internally, the Indian government has used the tragedy to reduce Pakistan’s diplomatic footprint, stoke nationalist sentiment ahead of elections in states like Bihar, and stir communal rhetoric. During an all-party meeting on April 24, security lapses were acknowledged, but have since received little public attention—overshadowed by louder nationalist messaging.

Recognizing the potential for escalation, the United States has initiated backchannel diplomacy. Secretary of State Marco Rubio is reportedly preparing to engage with both Indian and Pakistani foreign ministries. Meanwhile, State Department spokesperson Tammy Bruce underscored the importance of de-escalation. However, in an atmosphere where tragedy is so readily instrumentalized, the prospects for effective diplomacy remain uncertain.

The Pahalgam massacre was a profound human tragedy. But in the hands of political operatives and media hawks, it has been transformed into a geopolitical lever. Rather than mourn with dignity and investigate with transparency, India has chosen to flex muscle, suspend treaties, and dominate narratives. If the international community continues to reward such behavior with arms deals and uncritical political support, then peace in South Asia will remain elusive. The victims of Pahalgam deserve more than ritualistic condemnation—they deserve the truth. And the world must do its part to ensure it is found.