The Domestic Profits of War

The India–Pakistan conflict is sustaining the political projects of their leaders

The flag retreat ceremony at the Attari-Wagah border, started in 1959, is carried out at sunset by the Border Security Force and the Pakistan Rangers, and serves as a piece of nationalist theatre. Sameer Sahgal/Hindustan Times
The flag retreat ceremony at the Attari-Wagah border, started in 1959, is carried out at sunset by the Border Security Force and the Pakistan Rangers, and serves as a piece of nationalist theatre. Sameer Sahgal/Hindustan Times
31 May, 2025

A CEASEFIRE WAS DECLARED between India and Pakistan on 10 May. It came after a tense four days of military conflict—involving missile strikes, heavy shelling along the Line of Control and drone battles—that resulted in nearly two hundred deaths. The Narendra Modi government declared on the day of the ceasefire that any future acts of terror would be considered an “act of war” and would be dealt with accordingly. In his address to the nation, the prime minister described this doctrine as the “new normal.” On 13 May, security forces reportedly killed three “terrorists” in an encounter near Shopian. Two days after that, the media reported another encounter in which security forces killed three men near Awantipora in south Kashmir.

This sequence of events exposes the contradictions in the government’s logic. If these encounters were with “terrorists,” why were they not read as acts of war? Would it count as an act of terror only if members of the security forces were killed? Or would it be so if the militants succeeded in attacking civilians? All of this implies that war with Pakistan is justified not by acts of terrorism but by security forces failing to prevent them.

This is what happened with the Pahalgam attack, in which 26 people died—a brutal act, not least because civilians were segregated based on religion and killed selectively. We still only have the Indian government’s word for the identity of the militants, none of whom have been apprehended. The attack took place in a busy tourist destination, and security forces in the world’s most militarised zone could not stop it. But we will not get answers about how such a security lapse occurred, because we have been too busy cheering a government that designed a conflict that cannot stand the scrutiny of its own logic.

India launched Operation Sindoor in the early hours of 7 May. There was no element of surprise—India had signalled its intentions well in advance. We still do not conclusively know what happened that night. The media went out of control with its falsities and jingoism, and, amid the noise, some crucial details were suppressed. One of them involved the alleged shooting down of India’s Rafale jets. International media outlets reported it, but, within India, raising any question about the lost aircraft was met with censorship.