Beyond Pahalgam: India’s Rush to Blame and the Questions Left Unasked

In the days following the Pahalgam attack, observers were struck not only by the tragedy itself but by where it occurred—an area with surprisingly few Army and CRPF checkpoints. Almost before the echoes of gunfire could fade, Indian officials pointed the finger at Pakistan. Such swift blame, issued prior to any full investigation, demands rigorous scrutiny: What concrete evidence underpins this conclusion, and which details have been sidelined in service of a ready-made narrative?

This event cannot be divorced from the broader pattern of alleged “fake encounters” along the Line of Control. Ostensibly framed as necessary countermeasures, these extra-judicial operations have often resulted in civilian casualties conveniently written off as collateral damage. At the same time, reports of sophisticated Israeli aircraft delivering equipment to Srinagar—alongside intercepted IED communications traced back to channels monitored by Indian intelligence—invite a more unsettling question: was Pahalgam a spontaneous act of violence, or a calculated manoeuvre staged for strategic or political ends?

Many analysts contend that India’s habitual externalization of threats—repeated accusations against Pakistan—serves as a potent distraction from mounting domestic challenges. Skyrocketing inflation, youth unemployment, and swelling social unrest all threaten the government’s standing, especially as the nation edges toward pivotal elections. Casting doubt on Pakistan’s compliance with the 1960 Indus Waters Treaty, for instance, not only sows mistrust over a vital shared resource but also lays groundwork for dramatizing a water crisis that could destabilize millions downstream.

Within India’s own security establishment, the lines between military strategy and political ambition appear increasingly blurred. Whispers of close alignment between certain echelons of the armed forces and the ruling party raise fears that independent strategic assessments—and those “sane voices” urging caution—are being sidelined. In such an environment, the spectre of a “false-flag” operation can no longer be dismissed out of hand: if incidents can be framed to justify preordained policies, then truth becomes a casualty of political expediency.

Historical precedents only deepen this skepticism. The ambiguity surrounding the Pulwama attack—and the absence of transparent forensic data—left lingering doubts. The Balakot airstrike, lauded domestically as decisive, sparked international alarm for its disproportionate response and risk of wider escalation. Trust in official accounts has been further eroded by documented disinformation campaigns—such as those exposed by EU DisinfoLab—and by allegations of collusion between parts of the media and the ruling party’s social-media apparatus. When “managed truths” replace open inquiry, objective reporting gives way to propaganda.

Pahalgam Attack and Aftermath-Full Coverage

All the while, India’s domestic fabric shows worrying signs of strain. Hate crimes against Muslims, Christians, and Dalits are on the rise, often excused under vague security pretexts. Rampant vigilantism and sectarian violence pose a far more existential threat to India’s long-term stability than any cross-border skirmish. It is ironic—and alarming—that a government preoccupied with external provocations risks ignoring the urgent need for healing at home.

Perhaps most alarming is the potential manipulation of the Indus Waters Treaty. To weaponize water is to flirt with a crisis of humanitarian proportions: depriving millions of their lifeline, disrupting agriculture, and threatening public health. If one party unilaterally tears up or ignores this landmark agreement, it isn’t just a technical breach of international law—it’s tantamount to declaring war. It would leave ordinary Pakistani families scrambling for safety, farmers watching their fields run dry, and communities bracing for hardship they never asked for.

If there is hope for a more stable future, it lies in unflinching commitment to evidence and accountability. Every security incident—Pahalgam or otherwise—must be subject to independent forensic analysis, unedited communication logs, and rigorous eyewitness corroboration. Rather than chasing headlines or scoring political points, leaders should roll up their sleeves and build real bridges across borders—listening as much as they speak. And for journalists, the task is even more personal: to treat every story as a promise to readers, shielding their work from the tug of special interests so that truth, not profit or power, always leads the way. And regional leaders must recognize that the sanctity of water and the value of human life demand collaboration, not confrontation.

In an age where disinformation can inflict wounds as deep as any conventional weapon, the greatest act of strength is to seek out truth—even when it challenges convenient narratives. Only by reasserting accountability over political theater can South Asia move away from the brink of conflict and toward a durable, fact-based peace.