India and Pakistan came perilously close to full-fledged war following a four-day military escalation triggered by a terror attack in Kashmir on April 22, 2025. The conflict saw the unprecedented use of weaponised drones, cross-border strikes, and direct hits on strategic military targets. While a ceasefire has since been held, both countries remain on high alert with no signs of a diplomatic thaw. Religious nationalism continues to drive hardline policies, and the delayed response from global actors, led by the U.S. and Gulf states, has exposed the erosion of international crisis-management mechanisms. Analysts suggest that both nations’ advanced missile capabilities have imposed a fragile strategic balance, echoing a form of Mutually Assured Destruction (MAD). This deterrence may prevent all-out war but offers only a tenuous stability, especially as the underlying triggers—Islamist militancy and Baloch separatism—remain unresolved.
The immediate cause of the conflict was the Pahalgam attack in Indian-administered Kashmir, where 26 men were reportedly singled out and killed based on religious identity, marking one of India's first major terror incidents to involve both religious and gender-based targeting. In Pakistan, such identity-based violence is not uncommon. From sectarian killings in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa’s Kurram district to ethnic assassinations in Balochistan, targeted attacks are a grim regional pattern. Even as Indo-Pak tensions unfolded, three Sindhi barbers were shot dead in their shop in Panjgur on March 9, 2025, further underscoring this persistent threat.
Yet while the Pahalgam attack captured international headlines, another incident of grave magnitude received far less attention: the hijacking of the Jaffar Express on March 11, 2025, claimed by the Balochistan Liberation Army (BLA). This unprecedented act not only shocked Pakistan but also set a disturbing global precedent. The following day, Pakistan’s military spokesperson revealed that the hijackers had been in contact with handlers in Afghanistan, reaffirming the cross-border dimensions of the Baloch insurgency. Subsequently, Pakistan’s Foreign Office accused India of orchestrating the attack through overseas-based terrorist proxies, leaving observers uncertain whether one or two countries were truly behind it.
The hijacking also revealed glaring security lapses. A train carrying over 400 passengers, including soldiers and their families, had no adequate protection. Balochistan Chief Minister Sarfraz Bugti condemned the incident and likened the BLA to the TTP, echoing past comparisons of these groups with the Afghan Taliban.
On the same day, Pakistan’s Permanent Representative to the UN, Munir Akram, warned that over 20 militant outfits, including the TTP and BLA, are now active in Afghanistan—accusations Kabul denies. He warned that the TTP is evolving into an umbrella group for various factions, with links to the Majeed Brigade and other anti-state actors targeting Pakistan and Chinese development projects.
If these militants were known to foreign intelligence agencies, why were they freely operating inside Pakistan, and why were they being neutralised by external actors rather than apprehended by domestic security forces?
The aftermath of the Jaffar Express hijacking not only underscored external involvement but also raised unsettling questions about Pakistan’s internal security dynamics. Just days later, Abu Qatal — also known as Zia ur Rehman — was shot dead along with his guard near Zeenat Hotel in the Jhelum area. A former associate alleged that his killing was part of a broader targeted-killing campaign attributed to India’s intelligence agency, RAW, which has reportedly eliminated over a dozen militants from various groups within Pakistan over the past two years. Indian media, meanwhile, described Abu Qatal as a close confidant of Hafiz Saeed, the alleged mastermind of the 26/11 Mumbai attacks. The episode added a new layer of confusion: if these militants were known to foreign intelligence agencies, why were they freely operating inside Pakistan, and why were they being neutralised by external actors rather than apprehended by domestic security forces?
March 18, 2025 Chief of Army Staff General Syed Asim Munir, while addressing the Parliamentary Committee on National Security, called on religious scholars to confront extremist narratives and expose the distorted interpretations of Islam propagated by militant groups such as the Khawarij—a label increasingly used for the Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) due to its radical jihadist ideology masquerading as a religious cause.
Meanwhile, Islamabad’s strategy appeared to shift. Despite more than 1,000 terror-related fatalities in 2025, Minister of State for Interior Tallal Chaudhry ruled out launching a new military offensive, perhaps wary of political backlash in restive provinces like KP. Instead, he accused local PTI leaders of shielding militants, effectively redirecting blame from foreign actors to domestic political opponents and provincial authorities.
In a rare diplomatic move, Deputy Prime Minister Ishaq Dar visited Kabul on April 19—the first senior Pakistani visit since 2023—signaling a possible thaw amid rising cross-border tensions and Afghan refugee expulsions. Meeting Afghan Foreign Minister Amir Khan Muttaqi, Dar pushed for action against the TTP and cited a UN report accusing the Afghan Taliban of complicity. Kabul, in turn, focused on trade ties and denounced Pakistan's deportation of Afghan nationals. Though fragile, the visit marked a shift from military reliance to diplomatic engagement.
That same day, Defence Minister Khawaja Asif, in an in-camera session of Pakistan’s Parliamentary Committee on National Security, revealed intelligence linking BLA militants to handlers in Afghanistan. Later, in a televised interview, he issued a stark warning: Pakistan reserved the right to conduct “hot pursuit” into Afghan territory to eliminate threats. He emphasised that national security would take precedence over diplomatic protocol — a stance that raised uncomfortable questions about the effectiveness of the previous two cross-border operations, which failed to yield any tangible improvement in the security situation.
Those behind the Pahalgam attack have yet to be identified or held accountable, and extremist elements have exploited the ensuing chaos to advance their agendas
Following his April 19 visit to Kabul, Deputy PM Ishaq Dar expressed cautious optimism, emphasising the need for sustained dialogue with the Afghan Taliban. He reaffirmed Pakistan’s commitment to regional peace, stressed that Afghan soil must not be used for cross-border attacks, and highlighted the importance of cooperation on trade and connectivity despite ongoing security concerns.
Just as a phase of cautious diplomacy began to take shape, the Pahalgam terror attack dealt a severe blow to regional stability. India swiftly blamed Pakistan, triggering heightened military posturing. Pakistan denied the allegations and called for an independent investigation, aware that it stood to gain little from a new conflict while already grappling with intensifying threats from TTP and BLA insurgencies. Some Pakistani analysts speculated that the attack may have been carried out by rogue militant factions or reactivated sleeper cells within Kashmir. Others pointed to the possibility of a false flag operation by India aimed at galvanising nationalist sentiment ahead of elections and deepening communal polarisation.
After abrogating Article 370, India’s BJP government had touted a new era of peace and integration for Kashmir. Initially, a drop in violence and a rise in tourism seemed to vindicate the policy. But the Pahalgam massacre shattered that illusion. Security collapsed, tourism disappeared, and economic activity nosedived. As border tensions flared, families on both sides were displaced, and the risk of open war surged. Can the BJP afford to jeopardise its Kashmir policy—and its political capital—on an issue so volatile? That question will likely linger unless solid evidence emerges supporting claims of a false flag operation.
In retaliation for Indian allegations, Pakistan recalibrated its approach. Groups like the TTP, BLA, and Afghan Taliban were temporarily deprioritised as the state adopted a broader anti-India posture. Ironically, this renewed crisis brought the Kashmir issue back into international focus, undermining New Delhi’s efforts to bury it. While Pakistan gained some diplomatic ground, it now faces intensified threats on multiple fronts, juggling external confrontation with internal instability.
Those behind the Pahalgam attack have yet to be identified or held accountable, and extremist elements have exploited the ensuing chaos to advance their agendas. Both India and Pakistan have paid a price—in lives lost, trust eroded, and regional security undermined. As inflammatory rhetoric continues to dominate the narrative, it is the militants and spoilers who benefit most, shielded from scrutiny while blame is deflected elsewhere.
The critical question remains: will India and Pakistan break this cycle of provocation and retribution? Or will they continue down a path that empowers extremists and endangers millions? A narrow window exists to pursue meaningful dialogue, restore confidence, and invest in long-term peacebuilding. If squandered, the region risks spiraling into an era of perpetual instability—driven not by reason, but by the very forces of violence both nations claim to oppose.