With eyes wide open

SIX years after Pulwama, India and Pakistan are back to doing what they do best — being ‘on the brink of a war’ or in an ‘eyeball-to-eyeball’ confrontation, whichever cliché one prefers.

Conflict looms as they trade blame, further scale down diplomatic presence and revoke visas, while skirmishes and troop movements are reported, and the mainstream media engages in a proxy shouting match which the two governments feel is beneath them.

In Pakistan, the question being asked is whether or not there will be another scuffle, dogfights or more, with the ever-present fear of escalation and something bigger. In India, it seems the ask is for Pakistan to be taught a lesson and more.

All this compels one to wonder if they learnt anything from Pulwama. In an ideal world, Pulwama should have led both countries to realise that limited conflicts can easily escalate into bigger ones. In those tumultuous days, it did seem as if the reality had sunk in.

There has been enough discussion on this side of the border for most of us to know that the decision to strike back after the Balakot attack was not an easy one, despite the fact that it was an exercise the military had prepared for. There were genuine concerns about how it may lead to a wider conflict and what that would mean. This is one reason the government made a quick decision to release the Indian pilot whose plane was shot down, in a bid to cool temperatures.

That the Indian government was also aware of the dangers became clear with revelations by the then US secretary of state, Mike Pompeo, that he had been contacted by an Indian official who feared escalation, which was then ‘prevented’ by American intervention. One can only hope that the current crisis will also end in case there is an escalation to strikes or incursions, as is being predicted.

The absolutism of the two states no longer seems to allow any space for peaceniks.

But despite the awareness of the perils of escalation, in Pulwama, both sides walked into a conflict and then looked around for others to stop it. Indeed, even after many decades and wars, neither side has figured out how to avoid or de-escalate a crisis; for this, they count on calling up others to talk them off the ledge.

Indeed, if this pattern is followed this time too, it shows how difficult — or impossible — conflict management is in the subcontinent; where conflict does not happen because of miscommunication or unintentional escalation, but because the two adversaries walk into it. Unlike what we thought the theory of nuclear states and proxy wars was, little helps maintain peace; in fact, it is now leading to the opposite — for both accuse the other of supporting terrorist activity in each other’s territory and fomenting violence.

This is also why direct communication may not help — for neither side believes the other does not want war. For the moment, only outside intervention can guarantee de-escalation.

The second aspect of the India-Pakistan crises is the role of the media. It grows more hysterical as time goes on. The absolutism of the two states no longer seems to allow any space for peaceniks, only war cries. So much so, that it is hard to tell how much of it is orchestrated or encouraged by the governments themselves and how much of it reflects true public opinion. It is hard to say if journalism is even a sleeping partner to the jingoism that rules the airwaves.

On our side, recently, a minister congratulated the Pakistani media for ‘defeating’ the ‘propaganda’ of the other side. But such discussions or pressures take on a life of their own eventually, pushing the governments that encouraged the ‘hard talk’ to live up to expectations. It is here where there is room for misunderstanding — because no longer can journalists report what governments are actually thinking or weighing.

Instead, all that is being communicated or ‘reported’ is an intent to war. Eventually, this has and will end up reducing the options for the two governments. Those in India now expect that every incident will lead to something grander than Balakot; at home, every strike will lead to the expectation of a retaliation that will down an Indian jet or more.

As a Pakistani (and a sub editor), however, what is of equal concern is the language of some of the English-language opinion pieces from India. One spoke of the permanent extinction of the artificial state of play created by 1947, and then added details about the borders of an expanded Indian state. Another speaks of how the mood in India is of completing the logic of 1947 or undoing it.

Couple this with the rhetoric around the Indus Waters Treaty, and it seems as if Pakistan faces an existential threat; what else would it mean if the waters which nourish the country are diverted? And the warning takes on a more menacing colour in a world where other states, too, have opted for conflicts which are aimed at the extinction of the other — for example, in Palestine.

As the world order weakens along with those who set it up (and can no longer afford to hold it up), governments and their people are finding it easier to discard temperate language and policies, and even contracts and understandings reached under that order. The IWT is one of those.

It is worth asking in Pakistan at the moment what the World Bank or any other international institution can do if New Delhi does exit the treaty? And what options will then this leave Islamabad with? The warning that it will be tantamount to war needs sober reflection.

The writer is a journalist.

Published in Dawn, April 29th, 2025