False Flags, Water Wars, and the Peril of Indian Recklessness
The recent attack in Pahalgam, in the disputed region of Jammu and Kashmir, might have faded into the long list of tragedies the valley has witnessed—if it weren’t for what followed. Within minutes, Indian authorities pinned the blame on Pakistan. No investigation. No evidence. No suspects. Just accusation.
The script was familiar. An explosion in Kashmir, a social media campaign in overdrive, and a national narrative ready for mass consumption. It mirrored previous incidents like the 2019 Pulwama bombing, which served more as a political accelerant for India's ruling party than a moment of national introspection. The facts then were murky, but the strategic value was crystal clear: a chance to beat the war drum and distract from domestic turmoil. Pahalgam appears no different.
There are disturbing details that can no longer be overlooked. Before major attacks in Pakistan—like Mianwali in November 2023, Karachi in October 2024, and the Jafar Express bombing—Indian-linked accounts posted suspiciously prescient warnings online. These are not coincidences. They indicate foreknowledge. And they speak to a dangerous trend: the use of orchestrated violence, or the narrative of it, as a political instrument.
Pakistan’s military spokesperson, Lt. Gen. Ahmed Sharif, recently laid out grim statistics: since January 2024, the country has faced more than 3,700 terror attacks, leading to nearly 3,900 casualties. In response, the country’s security forces launched over 77,000 operations and neutralized more than 1,600 terrorists. Many of these attacks, the military asserts, are backed by Indian intelligence operatives. In fact, more than 3,000 such incidents since early 2024 alone bear clear Indian fingerprints.
This is not just a bilateral quarrel. This is a dangerous precedent for a region that houses more than one-fifth of the world’s population and possesses nuclear weapons on both sides of a heavily militarized border.
More alarming still is India’s open threat to unilaterally suspend the Indus Waters Treaty, a World Bank-brokered agreement that has survived wars and diplomatic breakdowns since 1960. That India is now toying with the idea of weaponizing water against Pakistan signals an intent to push past diplomatic red lines into strategic coercion. The infrastructure for such a move isn’t yet complete—but the rhetoric is.
Any abandonment of the treaty would not only devastate Pakistan’s agricultural heartland but set a dangerous global precedent. If one side can revoke a longstanding water-sharing deal on the basis of politically expedient pretexts, what stops others—from Egypt and Ethiopia to Latin America and Southeast Asia—from doing the same?
The international community must understand what is at stake. This is not just about Kashmir. It is about the steady normalization of hybrid warfare, misinformation, and environmental blackmail in international relations.
Pakistan, for its part, has adopted a posture of restraint. Officials, including Deputy Prime Minister Ishaq Dar, have repeatedly affirmed that Pakistan will not be the first to resort to escalation. But restraint should never be mistaken for weakness. The country's leadership, its armed forces, and its 240 million citizens are aligned behind a simple principle: sovereignty is non-negotiable.
India’s militarism and nationalism has irresponsibly pushed the region closer to catastrophe, placing the lives of over a billion people at risk. No amount of populist fervor or campaign messaging justifies this kind of brinkmanship.
Pakistan’s message from Rawalpindi is unambiguous: Pakistan may not start the war, but if war is imposed, it will be finished—fully, forcefully, and without hesitation.
That’s not saber-rattling. That’s a reality that policymakers in Washington, Brussels, and Beijing need to factor into their calculus.
So far, the global response has been muted. The United States continues to deepen its strategic and military cooperation with India, betting on Delhi as a counterweight to China. But this transactional embrace has costs. Emboldening a partner without holding it accountable creates dangerous incentives, especially when that partner shows signs of domestic authoritarianism and strategic adventurism.
China’s reaction has been more measured. While it condemned terrorism broadly, Beijing expressed support for an impartial investigation. That is the responsible path forward. If India has nothing to hide regarding the Pahalgam incident, it should have no objection to an international fact-finding mission.
Instead, it has doubled down on baseless accusations and inflammatory rhetoric, feeding a media ecosystem that increasingly acts as an extension of state propaganda.
But patience has limits. If the world continues to look the other way as India uses false flags and hybrid tactics to advance domestic political objectives, the consequences could be catastrophic. The subcontinent does not need another Pulwama or Balakot moment. It needs a break from perpetual crisis.
The choice is India’s to make.


