Kamal Mustafa
When I hear the name from Modi about ‘Pakistan,’ and ‘India’ spoken in the same breath, especially concerning matters of regional security, it’s as if a little bit of the air goes out of the room for me – and, I’d wager, for many who observe our complex corner of the world, forever nursing a hope that’s tempered by all too much experience. We carry within us, I believe, a fundamental human yearning for our societies to flourish, for a measure of peace to settle over our lands. But it so often feels like just as we glimpse that ideal, just as we allow ourselves to hope, we’re pulled back by the harsh reality of new actions, new narratives that only seem to deepen the divides. The question that haunts me, and it feels increasingly urgent, is this: when lives are tragically lost across borders, who truly bears responsibility, and, just as importantly, whose version of events are we being asked to believe, and why?
Over the past year, the news reaching us – and by ‘us’ I mean ordinary citizens trying to make sense of the world – has been profoundly disturbing. We’re not just talking about distant political manoeuvrings, but about reports that land with a sickening thud, hinting at something darker. Respected international media, outlets like The New York Times or The Guardian, have carried out detailed investigations, often drawing on sources within Western intelligence agencies – bodies not traditionally known for casual accusations. These accounts allege that under Mr Modi’s leadership, India has become involved in targeted killings far beyond its internationally recognized borders. It’s chilling to read, chilling to contemplate. These aren’t abstract ‘geopolitical chess moves’; they are operations that, if true, have resulted in lives snuffed out on foreign soil. My heart aches particularly when reports, such as those emerging from Canada and echoed by human rights monitors, speak of incidents where the innocent – perhaps even women and children, bystanders to clandestine struggles – are caught in the fatal crossfire. The stark pronouncements from the Canadian government, alleging direct links between Indian state agents and the assassination of a Canadian citizen on Canadian soil, remain a stark testament to the gravity of these claims.
Yet, almost in direct counterpoint to these troubling international headlines, a strong and unwavering narrative emanates from official India. From parliamentary speeches by Mr Modi’s MPs to assertive statements at global forums (readily available through official transcripts and news archives), the finger points resolutely towards Pakistan. We hear repeated, emphatic warnings about “proxy threats,” about the enduring challenge of cross-border terrorism allegedly orchestrated by Islamabad, and urgent calls for the world to hold Pakistan accountable. No informed observer would, or should, deny the complex and often bloody history of militancy that has scarred our region for decades, nor the legitimate security concerns that arise from it. However, as an individual trying to discern the whole truth, I find myself asking: does this relentless focus, especially at a time when India itself is facing such serious accusations from usually friendly nations, serve solely to highlight genuine threats? Or does it, perhaps conveniently, also act as a powerful spotlight, diverting our collective gaze from the deeply uncomfortable questions now being asked about India’s actions abroad under Mr Modi’s government?
I listen to seasoned security analysts – those individuals whose job it is to cut through the noise, often publishing their careful findings in academic journals or through independent think tanks – and I see many struggling to reconcile these conflicting pictures. It becomes a true challenge to one’s understanding when a nation, under Mr Modi’s stewardship, frequently and openly celebrates its capacity for “surgical strikes” and for “entering homes to eliminate enemies” (ghus kar maarenge) – words often cheered by domestic crowds and amplified across national media – and yet, appear to react with such vigorous denial or counter-accusation when similar capacities are attributed to it by credible international sources in different, more clandestine contexts. If proactive, assertive cross-border action is a point of national pride when acknowledged, why is the possibility of other such actions when alleged, met with such opacity or deflection?
Of course, the stated rationale for any such actions is always the defence of India’s national interest. This is the fundamental duty of any government. But for many of us looking on, especially when communities abroad, our diaspora, feel the tremors of these events, a disconcerting pattern seems to unfold. When allegations of these extralegal operations emerge, the initial response often appears to be one of outright denial, followed swiftly by a distraction tactic – pointing elsewhere, usually towards Pakistan – and then, a concerted effort to deflect any further scrutiny. This may feel like effective crisis management in the short term, but I fear the corrosive effect it has on trust, both domestically and internationally. Diplomatic relationships, like those publicly strained with Canada, inevitably suffer, and a chill can descend upon interactions where warmth and cooperation once thrived.
And this is where it all comes to a head for me, bringing forth a question that feels so heavy in my own heart-a question, I believe, that isn’t just for the leaders of India, Pakistan, or for Mr Modi himself, but for any nation, any people, who genuinely desire to live with dignity and be seen as a force for good on our shared planet. When a nation becomes powerful, truly influential, does that power give it a free pass to act as it pleases, especially in a part of the world like ours, so densely packed, where the consequences of one action can send shivers through so many lives? Or, does that very strength, that capacity to shape events, actually mean it carries an even greater human responsibility-a responsibility to be utterly open, to be accountable for every action, and to embrace the truth, however difficult, for the sake of all our communities?
In the quiet of my reflection, I am convinced that the enduring strength of any nation, and indeed the hope for a more peaceful South Asia, doesn’t lie in the deftness of its spin or the ferocity of its denials. It lies in a far more human quality: courage. The courage to confront uncomfortable truths, to act with demonstrable justice, and to allow the unvarnished facts, however challenging, to see the light of day. That, I believe, is the path not only to self-respect but also to lasting peace among neighbours.
The writer is a freelance columnist.
