“Considering the timing of the incident, the questions become even more pointed. India is in the midst national elections—a time when hyper-nationalism becomes political currency”
Mubashar Naqvi
The bloodshed in Pahalgam has shaken South Asia’s conscience. The killing of more than two dozen civilians, most of them tourists, has rightly drawn widespread condemnation, but it has also triggered a series of unanswered questions. How can such a heinous attack take place in one of the most heavily militarised regions of the world? The Kashmir Valley, particularly areas like Anantnag and its surroundings, is blanketed with multiple layers of surveillance. Military pickets, bunkers, and checkpoints mark every road and hilltop, while the area is under near-constant watch by the Indian Army, paramilitary forces, and an extensive network of intelligence agencies. In such a fortress-like environment, the claim that seven militants roamed freely with automatic weapons, attacked a group of civilians, and then managed to disappear without a trace stretches the bounds of credibility. This apparent failure of intelligence and security isn’t just concerning—it’s suspicious.
When one considers the timing of the incident, the questions become even more pointed. India is currently amidst national elections—a time when hyper-nationalism becomes political currency. An attack of this magnitude immediately provided the ruling establishment with an opportunity to shift public focus from pressing internal issues such as inflation, joblessness, and growing dissent to a familiar and politically expedient enemy: Pakistan.
Eyewitness reports suggest that the attackers selectively targeted non-Muslims, demanded Islamic recitations, and carried out a grotesque verification of identity based on religious markers. These details, conveniently fitting into an extremist stereotype, have been repeated in the media without independent verification
Within hours, fingers were pointed across the border. Diplomatic ties were downgraded, borders sealed, and economic agreements such as the Indus Waters Treaty were unilaterally suspended. But such knee-jerk reactions do not amount to evidence. Rather, they appear as part of a script that has been played before. From the 2016 Uri attack to the Pulwama tragedy of 2019, incidents that happened under similarly sensitive circumstances were quickly politicised and leveraged for electoral gains.
One must also consider the disturbing convenience of the narrative that has emerged. Eyewitness reports suggest that the attackers selectively targeted non-Muslims, demanded Islamic recitations, and carried out a grotesque verification of identity based on religious markers. These details, conveniently fitting into an extremist stereotype, have been repeated in the media without independent verification. It is worth asking whether these narratives are organically emerging from survivors or being subtly framed to reinforce a predetermined agenda. The Indian intelligence apparatus has, for decades, operated with sweeping authority in Kashmir, often accused of detentions, surveillance, and rights abuses. Is it then plausible that a group of well-armed attackers went undetected not only during their infiltration but also in the aftermath of a massacre of such scale?
The implications of the incident are alarming. The fallout has not only intensified diplomatic hostilities but also given Indian authorities a fresh excuse to tighten their already oppressive grip on Kashmir. In the days following the attack, the region has seen renewed crackdowns, arrests, internet shutdowns, and heightened militarisation. Far from bringing peace, such measures deepen alienation and unrest among the Kashmiri people. If the goal was truly to ensure safety and stability, the first step would have been to initiate an independent, international investigation into the incident. Yet, the Indian government has resisted such calls, just as it has in past tragedies that raised too many uncomfortable questions.
Pakistan, meanwhile, has categorically denied involvement and demanded transparency, knowing well the cost of being scapegoated in regional politics. At a time when Islamabad is striving for economic recovery and global engagement, sponsoring such an attack serves no logical purpose. Instead, the incident has been used as a tool to isolate Pakistan diplomatically and justify India’s continued repression in Kashmir under the veil of national security.
In a world driven by narratives and optics, the Pahalgam massacre is more than a tragic loss of innocent lives—it is a disturbing reflection of how human suffering can be manipulated for political gain. The silence of the international community in the face of such events only emboldens the forces that thrive on fear and division. As journalists, scholars, and advocates of peace, we must ask the difficult questions, challenge dominant narratives, and refuse to let this incident fade into the background. Because if we don’t, the next Pahalgam might already be in the making.__This is an article of The Friday Times Pakistan on 24.04.2025
