Trump had earlier offered to mediate between the two countries on the issue of Kashmir.
Credit: Reuters photo
For years after the revocation of Jammu and Kashmir’s special status under Article 370 in August 2019, the government of India asserted that Kashmir is no longer a matter of international concern. The Narendra Modi-led Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) government projected a definitive narrative—Jammu and Kashmir had been constitutionally integrated, politically settled, and administratively reorganised. According to this narrative, all that remained was development and integration.
New Delhi’s messaging found some success. Major global powers, including the United States, the European Union, and key Islamic nations in the Gulf, gradually aligned with India’s stance. India’s rise as the world’s fifth-largest economy added weight to its position, especially as it played visible roles in addressing regional crises like Sri Lanka’s economic collapse and the Myanmar earthquake.
Whether due to geopolitical necessity, economic interests, or exhaustion from earlier South Asian entanglements, most of the world quietly accepted India’s assertion that Kashmir was an internal matter. The Covid-19 pandemic, the Russia-Ukraine war, and the Israel-Hamas conflict reshaped global priorities. Kashmir, once a regular feature in UN debates and global media, slipped into the background.
Then came April 22, 2025.
A terror attack in the meadows of Baisaran—called “mini Switzerland” for its alpine beauty in Pahalgam—killed 25 tourists and a local guide. It shattered not just lives but also India’s carefully cultivated image of normalcy and stability in Kashmir. It was the deadliest strike on civilians, especially non-locals, since the post-Article
370 clampdown.
The fallout was swift and destabilising. In the days that followed, tensions between India and Pakistan escalated into a short but intense conflict, marked by the use of missiles, drones, and fighter jets. Dozens were killed, and fears of a broader escalation—even nuclear war—prompted international alarm.
The defining moment, however, came from Washington. On May 10, U.S. President Donald Trump announced a ceasefire agreement between India and Pakistan—on X —before either country publicly acknowledged it. More significantly, Trump offered to mediate between the two nuclear-armed rivals on the Kashmir issue.
This unsolicited offer pierced a central pillar of India’s post-2019 policy: to keep Kashmir off the global stage. Trump’s proposal, coupled with US Secretary of State Marco Rubio’s statement that talks would be held at a neutral venue, stirred unease in New Delhi. While Pakistan promptly welcomed the gesture, India denied any third-party role in the ceasefire.
For Pakistan, this was a moment of opportunity. Long frustrated by the international community’s silence on Kashmir, Islamabad quickly revived its old playbook—nuclear rhetoric and diplomatic lobbying. The Pahalgam attack was framed not as terrorism but as “resistance”. The Pakistani establishment and media presented themselves as advocates for Kashmiri rights, a narrative gaining traction within the Organisation of Islamic Cooperation (OIC) and certain liberal quarters in the West.
For New Delhi, the challenge is now twofold: maintaining internal control while preserving international credibility. Domestically, a crackdown on the perpetrators of the Pahalgam attack is inevitable and, from a national security standpoint, justified. Yet this must be executed with care. Heavy-handed responses that disproportionately impact civilians or stifle legitimate political expression could backfire—both in the Valley and in international forums.
Militarily, India’s recent measured response to cross-border provocation might be justified as self-defence, but it must be calibrated to avoid triggering a broader standoff. The global community, already rattled by multiple simultaneous conflicts worldwide, is in no mood for a South Asian flare-up. Any miscalculation could not only escalate into a larger conflict but also invite unwanted external interventions.
On the diplomatic front, New Delhi must now undertake urgent damage control. Transparent communication with key allies, hosting independent observers, and showcasing real progress in development and human rights will be crucial. More than ever, India’s case will need to be made not just through legal arguments but through lived realities in Kashmir—schools functioning, tourism returning, local governance operating.
But perhaps the biggest rethink must come at the strategic level. New Delhi’s Kashmir approach cannot rest on development and control alone. Roads and buildings do not replace representation. Peace maintained by force lacks the permanence that only legitimacy can offer.
If New Delhi truly wishes to remove Kashmir from the international spotlight, it must do so by strengthening democracy at home. That means restoring statehood to Jammu and Kashmir as promised by the Prime Minister on several occasions, resuming dialogue with the voices of dissent, and empowering local institutions—
not as a concession to Islamabad or Washington, but as a reaffirmation of India’s democratic ethos.
The Pahalgam attack was more than a tragedy. It ruptured a narrative that India believed had taken hold globally. It reopened questions New Delhi thought were settled. And it reminded the world—and perhaps India itself—that Kashmir remains unresolved not because of a lack of assertion but because resolution demands more than control. It demands peace, inclusion, and legitimacy.