By Dipak Kurmi
In the wake of the horrific Pahalgam terror attack that claimed the lives of scores of innocent tourists, India’s response was not only swift and uncompromising—it signaled a tectonic shift in South Asia’s security architecture. At a time when the global community has effectively dismantled Wahhabi-inspired terror networks, even in their traditional heartlands like Saudi Arabia, Pakistan remains an outlier—a haven where terror infrastructures have not only survived but operated with virtual impunity. Three notorious locations—Bahawalpur, Muridke, and Sialkot—long known as the incubators of radical Islamist militancy, became the focal points of India’s retaliatory doctrine. These were not random selections; they were historically entrenched in India’s counterterrorism files, listed in UN Security Council reports, and linked with some of the most devastating terror acts on Indian soil.
The strike was rooted in India’s evolving strategic doctrine, one that has matured under the leadership of Prime Minister Narendra Modi and National Security Advisor Ajit Doval. This doctrine is premised on three cardinal principles: swift and proportionate retaliation to any act of terror on Indian soil, the invalidation of Pakistan’s longstanding nuclear blackmail, and the targeting of terrorists and their sponsors across the border, with no tolerance for distinctions between perpetrators and enablers.
Following the Pahalgam massacre, Modi addressed the nation with two sharply articulated messages. First, that “this is not an era of war,” echoing his earlier global peace appeals—yet clarified that this era “cannot be one of terrorism” either. Second, he reasserted the now-iconic declaration: “blood and water cannot flow together.” This phrase, steeped in both symbolism and policy intent, encapsulated India’s readiness to recalibrate diplomatic and hydro-political levers like the Indus Waters Treaty, should Islamabad continue to harbor anti-India terror outfits.
The operational precision of India’s response was as significant as its symbolism. Intelligence indicated that Bahawalpur housed the central command structure of Jaish-e-Mohammed (JeM); Muridke served as the ideological and training headquarters of Lashkar-e-Taiba (LeT); and Sialkot, close to the LoC, acted as a logistical hub for infiltrations and militant dispatch. Each of these locations has been previously named in global anti-terrorism reports. Muridke, in particular, is infamous as the home base of LeT and was instrumental in orchestrating the 2008 Mumbai attacks. This vast 82-acre facility reportedly includes a madrassa, residential compounds, a fish farm, commercial entities, and training grounds—many repurposed under the guise of social service but actually dedicated to radicalisation and military training.
The retaliatory strike—codenamed internally as part of a broader counterterrorism operation—was executed on the night of May 6 with a combination of air and drone precision. Reports estimate that over 100 militants and commanders were eliminated. Importantly, India’s attacks were narrowly tailored, avoiding civilian or general military infrastructure. This discipline was not accidental—it was integral to New Delhi’s strategy to avoid escalation while maintaining international legitimacy. All the sites targeted were either sanctioned by the UN or documented in multiple global counterterrorism dossiers, including FATF proceedings where Pakistan remains on enhanced monitoring.
What makes this strike different from past operations like Balakot in 2019 or the “surgical strikes” post-Uri, is the depth of penetration and its open defiance of Pakistan’s perception of territorial inviolability. By targeting locations deep within Pakistan’s mainland—beyond the traditional confines of PoK—India signaled that geographical boundaries would not shield terror patrons anymore. The element of operational misdirection was key. While Pakistan anticipated a conventional border engagement, India employed advanced surveillance, deceptive drone flight paths, and cyber warfare elements to paralyze Pakistan’s response chain.
Predictably, Islamabad responded with indiscriminate drone attacks targeting civilian infrastructure across Indian towns—schools, hospitals, religious institutions from Srinagar to Bhuj. These retaliatory efforts, rather than garnering sympathy, drew global condemnation. India, on the other hand, escalated with calibrated force in three phases: first, by neutralising major terror hubs; second, by striking key urban logistics nodes in Lahore; and third, by targeting dual-use military infrastructure, including air bases used to coordinate cross-border raids. Yet, even amidst intensifying tensions, India refrained from total war—marking a fine balance between deterrence and restraint.
India’s new strategic clarity also found resonance globally. Several nations dealing with cross-border terrorism—be it Iran’s campaigns against Balochistan-based insurgents, Saudi Arabia’s operations against the Houthis, or the U.S. Navy SEAL mission that eliminated Osama bin Laden in Abbottabad—saw parallels in India’s actions. Statements from Washington, Paris, and even Riyadh acknowledged India’s right to self-defense, with subtle criticism directed at Pakistan for its ongoing permissiveness towards violent non-state actors. The narrative was no longer about “restraint versus aggression”—it was now about legitimate self-defense versus state-sponsored terrorism.
Equally important was India’s effort to frame the strike within a legal and diplomatic context. Not only did it notify major global stakeholders before the strikes, but Indian diplomats also mounted a proactive campaign post-strike, sharing intelligence evidence, satellite imagery, and past terror linkages of the targeted facilities. This allowed New Delhi to maintain moral high ground even as it exercised kinetic force.
Internally, this campaign demonstrated the coming of age of India’s national security infrastructure. The coordination between the political executive, military leadership, and intelligence apparatus was seamless. NSA Ajit Doval was the chief architect of the operation, overseeing planning and timing, while PM Modi provided unambiguous political sanction. Modi’s labeling of these sites as “global universities of terrorism” was not merely rhetorical—it was a deliberate signal that India would no longer differentiate between terror groups and the ideological-funding ecosystems nurturing them.
Despite the risk of full-scale war, the crisis de-escalated after achieving key Indian objectives. A ceasefire was restored within days, not because of international mediation, but due to the tactical and psychological impact India inflicted on Pakistan’s militant command structures and strategic calculus. In diplomatic forums, India continues to hold levers of pressure—most notably the Indus Waters Treaty, international aviation overflight rights, and multilateral banking sanctions via FATF—that could be activated should Islamabad resume support to terror groups.
In essence, this new era marks the solidification of a doctrine that is neither reactionary nor maximalist. It is measured, legitimate, and above all, credible. India is no longer satisfied with post-attack condemnations or dossiers. The message is clear: terrorism emanating from Pakistani soil will not go unpunished, and India will reserve the right to preemptively strike if credible threats are identified.
As the region recalibrates its responses, one reality stands stark—South Asia’s nuclear overhang no longer offers Pakistan the immunity it once did. The paradigm has changed. India’s actions post-Pahalgam have set a precedent not only for its own security posture but for the global war on terror. The age of appeasement is over. Precision, legitimacy, and resolve now define New Delhi’s playbook.
(The writer can be reached at dipakkurmiglpltd@gmail.com)
