By Eric Vandenbroeck and co-workers
The Next War Between India and Pakistan
Nearly two weeks after India and Pakistan
reached an uneasy cease-fire, neither New Delhi nor Islamabad agrees on what
happened preceding it. India blames Pakistan for the April 22 terrorist attack
in Indian-administered Kashmir that left 26 people dead; Pakistan denies responsibility.
On May 7, India launched retaliatory missile strikes against targets in
Pakistan associated with known terrorist groups Lashkar-e-Taiba
and Jaish-e-Mohammed; both sides dispute the scale and impact of these attacks.
That barrage prompted further salvos that led to the downing of Indian fighter
jets (according to Pakistani and international media) and Pakistani jets
(according to Indian media). Drones and missiles whizzed across the border in
both directions, with the governments and national media offering dueling
claims about targets hit, infrastructure destroyed, and lives lost. Fighting
came to an end after senior U.S. officials pressed both sides to step back from
the brink, but even here, the fog of war prevails; while Islamabad thanked U.S.
President Donald Trump for helping bring the fighting to an end, New Delhi
denied that any mediation took place.
Although the dust remains in the air, some outcomes are clear.
The recent fighting represents a significant escalation in the cross-border
disputes that have periodically flared between India and Pakistan. Unlike
India’s limited punitive strikes in the past, this offensive pressed deeper into
Pakistani territory. India’s Operation Sindoor ranged far beyond Pakistani-administered
Kashmir into Punjab, Pakistan’s heartland, eventually hitting not just the
facilities of militant groups but also military targets, including air bases.
In recent decades, fighting has mostly been confined to the border region
around the disputed territory of Kashmir. In May, Pakistan’s major metropolises
and many big cities in northern India were on high alert.
With its strikes, the
Indian government hoped to demonstrate strength to a public that wanted
revenge for the terrorist attack in Kashmir. But by venturing deeper into Pakistan and hitting a
broad array of targets, India also wanted to reestablish deterrence and
discourage Pakistan’s military from backing militant groups active in Indian
territory. In that effort, India will probably be disappointed. Rather than
deterring its rival, India precipitated a retaliation that ended up burnishing
the Pakistani military’s reputation and boosting its domestic popularity.
Paradoxically, India’s retribution has handed the Pakistani army its biggest
symbolic victory in recent decades. And that will hardly discourage Islamabad
from reining in the proxy war against New Delhi or from risking future
flare-ups between these two nuclear-armed states.
Climbing the Ladder
Pakistan’s military
has long used proxies against India. A group affiliated with Lashkar-e-Taiba,
which famously staged a bloody attack on Mumbai in
2008, claimed responsibility for the April massacre
in Pahalgam in Indian-administered Kashmir. Pakistan denied any involvement
in the incident, but that didn’t persuade India. Soon after the attack, India
took the unprecedented step of unilaterally suspending the Indus Water Treaty,
an agreement brokered by the World Bank in 1960 to manage the flow of water
critical for hydropower, irrigation, and agriculture in Pakistan. The treaty
had endured several wars and militarized disputes between the two countries,
but no longer. The Modi government eventually coupled this diplomatic act with
its military attack on a slew of targets in Pakistani territory. It may have
hoped that these efforts would assuage the domestic outrage over Pahalgam
without provoking a wider conflict. But here
New Delhi miscalculated.
Indian officials
underestimated how much the Pakistani military needed to demonstrate its own
war readiness and resolve, both to India and to its domestic audience.
According to accounts in the Pakistani and international press, Pakistan’s
Chinese-made jets and air defense systems shot down several Indian fighter
planes, including a French-made Rafale. That amounted to a major symbolic
victory for Islamabad. It also encouraged Pakistan to test Indian air defenses
with a spate of drone and missile attacks. And it revealed the limitations of
India’s presumed air supremacy, renewing the Pakistani military’s confidence
that it can hold its own in a limited conflict despite India’s conventional
superiority.
The crisis came when
the public image of the Pakistani army and that of its chief, General Asim Munir, had plummeted. It has now
helped restore the military’s domestic legitimacy. Munir faced a backlash over
the crackdown on the Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI) party of Imran Khan, the
country’s former prime minister and most popular leader. The army had
imprisoned Khan on politically motivated corruption charges in May 2023,
prosecuted his supporters in military courts after they attacked military
installations, and blatantly put its thumb on the scale in February 2024
parliamentary elections that cemented the power of PTI’s major rivals. That
political dissension was compounded by the country’s parlous economic
situation; Pakistan came close to a debt default in 2023, at a time when
crippling inflation reached 38 percent. Economic angst has helped fuel political
dissent. The army forcefully crushed a PTI march on Islamabad in November 2024,
but the party’s supporters inside and outside the country have waged a
relentless campaign on social media against Munir, which the military has
described as “digital terrorism.”
For the time being,
that pressure has abated. To a domestic audience, the military has been able to
present itself as a triumphant force, guarding the country from Indian
aggression. A Gallup Pakistan poll found that 96 percent of Pakistanis believe
their country was victorious in the recent fighting. The military’s calls for
national unity have momentarily drowned out public concerns over political
repression and the country’s deep economic woes. Munir has emerged from the
confrontation with India stronger. As a reward for his leadership in “defeating
the enemy,” the country’s nominal civilian government has elevated Munir to the
highest military rank of field marshal, making him only the second officer to
hold that title after Mohammed Ayub Khan, the general who led the country for a
decade after a military coup in 1958.
Worse for India, its
attempt to reestablish deterrence backfired. New Delhi hoped that a punitive
response, backed by the threat of economic coercion, might discourage Pakistan
from engaging in proxy warfare. Instead, the recent hostilities will likely have
the opposite effect. Indian attacks on militant sites in Muridke
and Bahawalpur did little to damage Pakistan’s jihadi infrastructure. The
military-run Inter-Services Intelligence, Pakistan’s most important
intelligence agency, had ample time to relocate its prime assets to safety. In
any case, planning and launching terror attacks on India is not dependent on
fixed structures vulnerable to enemy fire. Pakistan fully retains its capacity
to use terrorism to rattle India.
Indeed, far from
deterring the Pakistani military, India’s attacks may suggest to the generals
that their provocative strategy is working. The military, which has ruled
Pakistan for much of the country’s history, has long used hostility toward
India to deflect from its failings. For example, with little evidence, it has
blamed New Delhi for backing the resurgent Tehrik-e-Taliban,
a militant group at war with the Pakistani state, as well as separatists in
southwestern Balochistan
province - India denies all these accusations. Even compared to his recent
predecessors, Munir had taken a visibly hard-line
approach to India. Less than a week before the Pahalgam attack, he invoked the
“two-nation theory,” or Pakistan’s founding idea that Hindus and Muslims are
two distinct and fundamentally incompatible civilizations, at a convention in
Islamabad. In his words, “Our religions are different, our cultures are
different, our ambitions are different.” Describing Pakistan as a “hard state,”
he vowed to continue backing the Kashmiris’ “heroic fight” against Indian
occupation.
Many in India,
including Indian Foreign Minister Subrahmanyam Jaishankar, interpreted Munir’s
antagonistic posturing as evidence of his personal “religious bigotry.” But his
remarks and subsequent actions also reflect the imperatives of the military as
an institution. Although the general has conservative views, Pakistani
officers are socialized into an organizational culture that fixates on India as
an implacably hostile neighbor. The continued waging of Pakistan’s subconventional war against India is ample proof that
institutional indoctrination and interests matter more than the personal
characteristics of the army’s top commander. (Qamar Bajwa, Munir’s immediate
predecessor, was perceived as more conciliatory toward India, but even he
presided over a major provocation, the February 2019 attack by Jaish-e-Mohammed
on Pulwama that killed 40 Indian paramilitary soldiers and prompted Indian
airstrikes on Pakistani territory.) The recent fighting has not shaken these
convictions. Indeed, Pakistan’s generals are not about to change course.
An Escalation Too Far
The generals think
that way even though the possibility of nuclear war looms over any conflict
between the two neighbors. Although India has adopted a “no first use” policy
since it tested nuclear weapons in 1998, senior Indian officials have indicated
in recent years that the country’s nuclear restraint is not cast in stone and
that India may review the policy in the future. As the weaker South Asian power
(in conventional terms), Pakistan does not have a no-first-use policy. Instead,
it has maintained the right to strike first if faced with imminent defeat or
major territorial losses to India. After India enunciated its “cold start”
doctrine, a plan to launch a rapid conventional incursion to capture Pakistani
territory as punishment for cross-border terrorism, in 2004, Pakistan further
lowered the nuclear threshold by threatening to deploy tactical nuclear weapons
against Indian forces on its territory.
It is not altogether
surprising, then, that Pakistan has a penchant for nuclear posturing. Much to
New Delhi’s chagrin, Islamabad has successfully used the specter of nuclear war
in its previous standoffs with India to precipitate a timely U.S. intervention.
For example, according to the U.S. Secretary of State Mike Pompeo, the two
sides came perilously close to a nuclear exchange during a 2019 crisis after
India informed the Americans that Pakistan was preparing to deploy nuclear
weapons. That threat triggered hectic American diplomacy that ultimately led to
the return of the captured pilot of a downed Indian jet, providing both sides
with an off-ramp.
Munir attends an army training exercise in Mangla,
Pakistan, May 2025
In this round of
violence, Pakistan also resorted to nuclear signaling. Ahead of India’s
retaliatory attack, Pakistani Defense Minister Khawaja Asif warned the world in
late April that Pakistan would consider using nuclear weapons if “there was a
direct threat to our existence.” After India hit key Pakistani air bases,
including the strategically located Nur Khan base close to the army’s general
headquarters and the country’s nuclear command center, Pakistan did not just
retaliate conventionally. Pakistani Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif immediately
summoned an emergency meeting of the National Command Authority, which oversees
the country’s nuclear arsenal and is tasked with approving the use of the
weapons, to send a calculated message to India—and everybody else. Modi has
warned that Pakistan’s “nuclear blackmail” will not prevent India from striking
against terrorist sanctuaries on its soil, but the nuclear saber rattling
sufficiently alarmed Washington that it stepped in. In fact, Trump has claimed
that his administration did not just broker a cease-fire but also prevented a
“nuclear conflict.”
An optimistic view of
the confrontation would be that both sides responded with appropriate and
measured retaliation without overplaying their hands. Put differently, the two
rivals did not want to risk the catastrophic costs of a nuclear war and managed
to find a timely off-ramp by inviting American mediation. (To be sure, India
denies that the United States played a major role in producing the cease-fire,
a rhetorical position that reflects New Delhi’s insistence that its conflict
with Pakistan over Kashmir is merely a bilateral issue, not one that needs
“internationalization.”)
Although the crisis
did not spiral to the nuclear level, its rapid escalation showed the
paradoxical effects of the countries’ ownership of nuclear weapons. Nuclear
deterrence can reduce the probability of a full-scale conventional war but it
can also breed instability by widening the space for lower levels of conflict,
including skirmishes and terrorism. In other words, the possession of nuclear
weapons may have incentivized risky confrontations that pass just below the
ambiguous nuclear threshold. A pessimist could justifiably point to
the hazardous outcomes that this dynamic could produce. As militaries strike a
wider variety of targets with an ever-evolving arsenal of new weapons, the
possibility of disaster balloons. No matter how rational Indian and Pakistani
leaders may be, the risk of miscalculation or misunderstanding in the absence
of reliable crisis communication channels makes every future flare-up more
dangerous.
Assailing the Other
The cease-fire is by
no means a lasting peace. Both sides have grounds to claim victory that can,
for at least some time, keep a lid on tensions. Pakistan’s military can boast
of balancing India’s conventional power, reviving international focus on the Kashmir
dispute, and re-hyphenating India with Pakistan when India’s great-power
ambitions have it looking to shed the baggage of this local rivalry. For his
part, Modi has bolstered his vaunted image of being a vigilant chowkidar,
or watchman, among his Hindu nationalist base, pointing to the precise
targeting of known militant centers deep inside Pakistan.
But two new
dimensions—disinformation and drones—add unpredictable levels of danger to
future standoffs. Although Pakistan’s media were hardly objective in reporting
the crisis, Indian TV news channels took war hysteria to a new peak by
concocting or amplifying falsehoods, including strikes on the port of Karachi
and the supposed capture of Pakistani cities. The jostling jingoistic media
narratives further exacerbated tensions amid a lack of direct communication.
The introduction of
armed drones has opened a new front in the conflict. As the crisis unfolded,
fleets of loitering (self-detonating) drones launched by both sides created
widespread public panic and fear. Drone technology will likely shape both
escalation and restraint in future crises. India and Pakistan can more readily
deploy drones and exacerbate tensions without the political and military risks
associated with the use of manned aircraft. To be sure, the act of intercepting
or destroying drones will probably be less escalatory than the shooting down of
conventional aircraft. But the use of drones in great numbers
widens the remit of any future clash, in turn widening the possibility of
escalation.
Despite the
cease-fire, New Delhi has asserted that it has merely paused its offensive. It
could resume its attacks at any time to punish future incidents of cross-border
terrorism. A single terror attack could destabilize the region by triggering
another cycle of retaliation and counterretaliation. For now, Indian
policymakers still likely believe that the Pakistani military has been at least
temporarily deterred from future adventurism because of its higher expected
costs. That is not how Pakistan’s generals see it. They have emerged out of the
crisis stronger and more determined to stand up to India, with their domestic
position bolstered and their battlefield reputation enhanced. Cooler heads
would exercise restraint from a proxy war because Pakistan can ill afford
repeated confrontations with an economically and militarily more powerful
rival—nor to court the risk of nuclear escalation. India, too, should not want
perpetual conflict with Pakistan when it seeks to be a great power. But any
respite from violence will likely be temporary as long as one side still
believes that it has something to gain from assailing the other.
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