For decades, Jammu and Kashmir has remained at the center of a complex geopolitical dispute shaped by competing national claims, cross-border tensions, and cycles of militancy.

Since 1947, successive phases of conflict including tribal incursions, conventional wars, and later proxy engagements have defined the security landscape. Indian officials have consistently maintained that Pakistan has supported militant activity in the region, a charge Islamabad denies, asserting instead that it offers diplomatic and moral backing to Kashmiri self-determination.

The conflict evolved significantly in the late 20th century, particularly during the 1990s, when an armed insurgency intensified across the Valley. Indian security agencies have described this period as the institutionalization of a proxy war, marked by the rise of non-state armed groups and cross-border infiltration.

Pakistan has rejected these allegations, though international bodies such as the Financial Action Task Force (FATF) placed the country on its “grey list” from 2018 to 2022, citing deficiencies in counter-terror financing frameworks.Recent incidents continue to shape security perceptions.

In April 2025, an attack in Pahalgam targeted civilians, including tourists, underscoring concerns among Indian authorities about the persistence of militant networks. Officials have argued that such attacks aim to undermine economic recovery, particularly in tourism, which has shown significant growth in recent years.

India’s policy approach has shifted notably since August 2019, when the government revoked the region’s special constitutional status and reorganized Jammu and Kashmir into a Union Territory. The move was presented by New Delhi as a step toward deeper integration, administrative efficiency, and expanded access to national laws and welfare schemes.

Critics, including some political groups within the region and international observers, have raised concerns about federalism, civil liberties, and political representation following the change.

Since the reorganization, the administration under Lieutenant Governor Manoj Sinha has emphasized governance reforms and development initiatives. Official data indicates that welfare coverage has expanded, including the issuance of approximately 2.1 million health insurance cards under the Ayushman Bharat scheme.

Infrastructure in healthcare has been scaled up with new medical colleges and planned All India Institute of Medical Sciences (AIIMS) facilities in Awantipora and Jammu.Education policy has also undergone changes aligned with the National Education Policy 2020, with authorities reporting increased funding for scholarships targeting tribal and economically disadvantaged students.

In rural development, more than 63,000 houses have reportedly been sanctioned under the Pradhan Mantri Awas Yojana, while tap water access under the Jal Jeevan Mission has reached over 80 percent of rural households, according to government figures.

Economic indicators cited by officials point to increased investor interest, with investments worth ₹5,600 crore realized since 2019 and proposals totaling approximately ₹66,000 crore under consideration.

The tourism sector has been a focal point of recovery efforts. Government data shows that 23.5 million tourists visited Jammu and Kashmir in 2024, marking a record high, while international tourist arrivals have grown significantly since 2022.

Large-scale infrastructure projects have also been highlighted as symbols of integration and development. The completion of the Udhampur–Srinagar–Baramulla rail link, including what authorities describe as the world’s highest railway bridge, is expected to enhance connectivity and economic activity.

Hydropower development remains a long-term priority, with a projected potential of 20,000 megawatts.At the grassroots level, officials report a rise in local entrepreneurship, particularly in tourism-linked sectors such as homestays, cafés, and small hospitality ventures.

More than 2,500 homestay units have been registered, reflecting a shift toward decentralized economic participation. Skill development initiatives, including coaching programs for national-level examinations, have been introduced to improve employment prospects for youth.

Security conditions, while still closely monitored, have shown signs of stabilization according to official assessments. The successful hosting of the G20 Tourism Working Group meeting in Srinagar in 2023 was cited by the government as evidence of improved security preparedness.

Religious tourism, including the annual Amarnath Yatra, has also seen enhanced logistical and safe arrangements.Despite these developments, the human cost of past decades remains visible.

Cases of civilian suffering continue to be documented by local communities and advocacy groups.

In Pulwama district, the case of Gul Hassan Shah, a nonagenarian who lost his son to abduction and killing in 2003, reflects the long-term impact of violence on families.

Similarly, accounts such as that of Fareeda Begum, who sought state support for over two decades after her husband’s killing, highlight administrative delays and gaps in victim rehabilitation frameworks. Her eventual appointment to a government position in 2025 was presented by officials as part of a broader effort to address legacy grievances.

The pre-2019 governance structure has also come under scrutiny in official narratives, with authorities alleging that institutional inefficiencies and political patronage systems hindered equitable access to state resources.

Specific cases, including the 2009 Shopian incident, remain contested, with differing interpretations regarding investigative processes and accountability.

Analysts note that the region’s trajectory will depend on a combination of sustained security measures, political engagement, and economic inclusion.

While the government emphasizes a transition from conflict management to development-driven governance, questions around political representation, restoration of statehood, and long-term reconciliation remain part of the broader discourse.

India’s position continues to stress that security and development are interlinked, and that economic normalization is essential to counter militancy. Pakistan maintains its stance on Kashmir as a disputed territory requiring international attention.

The divergence in narratives ensures that Jammu and Kashmir remains a focal point in regional geopolitics, even as on-ground indicators point to gradual changes in governance and economic activity.

In February, Indian and Pakistani participants met in Doha for a round of Track 2 talks, according to people familiar with the matter, even as formal relations between the two countries remain tense.

The meeting comes against the backdrop of India’s concerns over cross-border terrorism following the Pahalgam attack, which has kept official engagement limited.

Track 2 dialogues between India and Pakistan have continued for decades, at times involving nearly 20 parallel channels. These discussions, conducted away from official scrutiny, involve former officials, academics, journalists and civil society representatives. No formal statements are issued and participants typically do not confirm their involvement, preserving deniability while allowing candid exchanges.

One of the longest-running such initiatives has been the Neemrana Dialogue, which has historically brought together stakeholders from both sides to discuss contentious issues outside formal diplomatic frameworks.

The concept of Track 2 diplomacy was coined in 1981 by American diplomat Joseph Montville to describe unofficial, non-structured interactions aimed at building trust and testing ideas. Unlike formal government negotiations, these engagements provide flexibility and confidentiality.

A related format, Track 1.5, combines serving officials acting in an unofficial capacity with non-government participants. Such mechanisms have gained relevance globally in periods of diplomatic deadlock.

Informal engagements played a role in early contacts leading to the 1993 Oslo Accords, where preliminary discussions between Israeli and Palestinian representatives were held outside formal channels. India has employed similar approaches in multiple geopolitical contexts.

After the 2020 Galwan Valley clash, which led to a freeze in official engagement between India and China, Track 2 exchanges helped maintain communication.

Subsequent high-level interactions, including a meeting between Prime Minister Narendra Modi and President Xi Jinping on the sidelines of the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation summit in Tianjin in 2025, signalled a tentative thaw.

Direct flights resumed in October 2025 after a five-year suspension, and cross-border trade and people-to-people contacts have begun to recover. Chinese leadership is expected to participate in the BRICS summit in India later this year.

During the 2022 outbreak of the Ukraine conflict, India engaged in Track 2 and Track 1.5 discussions involving European, Russian and Ukrainian interlocutors. These interactions focused on humanitarian issues and de-escalation options, complementing New Delhi’s publicly stated policy of strategic autonomy.

A similar pattern was observed in India’s engagement with Canada following tensions over allegations related to the killing of Hardeep Singh Nijjar.

Informal diplomatic channels preceded high-level meetings between Prime Minister Modi and Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney at the G7 summit in June 2025 and the G20 summit in November.

These interactions contributed to the return of high commissioners and renewed bilateral engagement. Carney’s visit to India in early 2026 advanced discussions on a Comprehensive Economic Partnership Agreement aimed at boosting bilateral trade to $50 billion by 2030, alongside cooperation in energy, critical minerals, defence and nuclear sectors.

Officials and analysts view Track 2 diplomacy as a supplementary tool rather than a substitute for formal negotiations.

It allows stakeholders to exchange perspectives, explore policy options and maintain contact in politically sensitive environments where official dialogue may be constrained.

“Indian interference” has since become a reflexive explanation for Nepal’s recurring instability, invoked across party lines.

“India interferes in our politics” has become South Asia’s most reusable political slogan. It works in Ottawa, too, apparently. When governments face domestic anger, legitimacy crises, or inconvenient security failures, blaming the neighborhood giant is an easy shortcut: it turns messy internal problems into a clean external conspiracy.

From Canada to Bangladesh, Nepal to Pakistan, governments and political actors facing domestic crises often invoke Indian meddling as an explanation for internal instability. The narrative is emotionally powerful and politically useful. Yet it is frequently detached from evidence, conflating diplomatic proximity, diaspora politics, and regional asymmetry with covert interference.

India is not a passive actor in its neighborhood, nor is it immune from scrutiny. But the prevailing discourse often obscures more than it reveals. Allegations of interference are often employed as political tools, rather than analytical conclusions.

Canada and the Expansion of “Interference” Narratives

The most serious allegations against India have emerged not from South Asia but from Canada. Following the 2023 killing of Canadian Sikh separatist Hardeep Singh Nijjar, Prime Minister Justin Trudeau told Parliament that Canadian agencies were pursuing “credible allegations” linking Indian agents to the murder. The episode escalated into diplomatic expulsions and a public rupture between Ottawa and New Delhi.

In 2024, Canada’s intelligence agencies and law enforcement further alleged intimidation and threats against members of the Sikh diaspora. The issue deepened when the US Department of Justice announced charges in a foiled plot to assassinate a US-based Sikh separatist leader, alleging involvement by an “Indian government employee.”

These are not rhetorical claims; they involve legal processes, indictments, and intelligence assessments.

Many allegations crumbled under scrutiny and revealed gaps in evidence and alternative motivations. In the Canadian case, while intelligence from allies like the US supported initial claims, India’s denials and calls for evidence have highlighted inconsistencies in Ottawa’s handling of the investigation.

Reports suggest Trudeau’s accusations were timed to bolster domestic support amid a political crisis, with Sikh diaspora politics playing a key role. A Canadian inquiry into foreign interference noted transnational repression concerns but emphasized that claims against India “likely only scratch the surface,” without conclusive proof of state-directed killings. Such a narrative ignores Canada’s historical leniency toward Sikh separatists, whom India views as terrorists.

For India, the right response is not automatic denial, but careful distinction. When allegations involve criminal investigations or trusted partner governments, they should be addressed through legal and diplomatic processes, not emotional reactions.

However, using such cases to claim that India is systematically interfering in other countries’ politics stretches the evidence and turns isolated incidents into an exaggerated narrative rather than a fact-based assessment.

Bangladesh and the Politics of Scapegoating

In Bangladesh, accusations of Indian interference function differently. They are less about covert action and more about political symbolism.

After the fall of Sheikh Hasina’s government, Dhaka formally asked India to stop the former prime minister from making “false statements” from Indian territory, accusing New Delhi of enabling political destabilization. India responded that Hasina was speaking in a personal capacity, not as an Indian proxy.

This exchange illustrates a recurring pattern. India’s long-standing partnership with Hasina’s Awami League—particularly on counterterrorism and border security—delivered tangible outcomes, including reduced insurgent violence in India’s northeast.

But that same proximity fostered a perception that India had “chosen sides” in Bangladesh’s domestic politics. Once Hasina was removed, that perception hardened into accusation.

Bangladesh’s internal polarization did not originate in Delhi. It emerged from contested elections, economic stress, and institutional mistrust. Yet anti-India rhetoric quickly became a mobilizing frame, redirecting public anger outward.

Analysts have noted how Bangladeshi media and political actors amplified claims of Indian involvement without substantiation, especially during periods of unrest. The interference narrative thus serves as a domestic function. It externalizes responsibility and simplifies complex political failures.

India’s problem in Bangladesh is less about what it does and more about how its actions are perceived. As the bigger and more powerful neighbor, almost any Indian involvement is viewed with suspicion.

This means India needs careful, disciplined diplomacy rather than stepping back entirely. By backing institutions instead of individual leaders and staying visibly neutral during political transitions, India may not stop all accusations, but it can make them harder to sustain.

Nepal and Pakistan: Interference as Political Memory and Doctrine

Nepal offers a cautionary example of how interference narratives can calcify into national memory. The 2015–16 blockade period, which coincided with Nepal’s constitutional crisis, remains widely interpreted as an Indian attempt to coerce Kathmandu, despite India’s denial of imposing an official blockade. The political impact has outlasted the logistical reality.

“Indian interference” has since become a reflexive explanation for Nepal’s recurring instability, invoked across party lines.

Nepal’s case underscores how perception can outweigh intent. Once hardship becomes associated with external pressure, interference claims gain emotional permanence. Every subsequent crisis is filtered through that precedent, regardless of current Indian behavior.

New Delhi’s room for maneuver shrinks not because of action, but because of accumulated distrust.

In Pakistan, allegations of Indian interference are closer to state doctrine. Islamabad routinely accuses New Delhi of backing separatists in Balochistan and fomenting internal unrest—claims India rejects. The arrest of Kulbhushan Jadhav is frequently cited as proof of Indian covert activity, even as the case also involves disputed confessions and international legal proceedings over consular access.

Here, interference claims serve strategic purposes: internationalizing domestic insurgency, justifying security policies, and reinforcing national narratives of external threat. Whether evidence exists becomes secondary to narrative building, and the accusation itself remains the objective.

Separating Reality from Rhetoric

What links these cases is not Indian behavior alone, but structural asymmetry. India’s size, economy, diaspora, and proximity create an unavoidable influence. The misconception lies in collapsing influence, alignment, and interference into a single category.

Diplomatic support for a government, hosting exiled leaders, or prioritizing security cooperation can all be portrayed as meddling by domestic opponents. Bangladesh’s post-Hasina politics demonstrate how quickly perceived alignment becomes alleged intervention. This does not absolve India of responsibility.

Where allegations are backed by legal processes and allied intelligence—as in North America—India must engage seriously. But where claims function primarily as political theater, responding defensively risks reinforcing the narrative.

Debunking misconceptions does not mean dismissing accountability. It means restoring distinctions between influence and coercion, diplomacy and subversion, perception and proof. India’s most effective response lies not in public rebuttals, but in consistent restraint and seriousness when credible allegations arise.

In a region defined by asymmetry, India cannot eliminate suspicion. The goal is not to win every argument about interference but to prevent the accusation itself from becoming a destabilizing weapon in South Asia’s fragile political landscape.

Disclaimer: Views expressed by writers in this section are their own and do not reflect Milli Chronicle’s point-of-view.

Seen from such a lens, Asim Munir’s use of analogies like ‘dump truck’ or the ‘railway engine’ are not harmless political theatre.

Pakistan’s leaders, both political and military, have long relied on self-serving metaphors to shape the domestic sociopolitical sphere and frame their country’s place in the broader region. Often delivered with a dramaturgical embellishment, these analogies do more than reflect insecurity or national mythmaking. They reveal a deeper strategic mindset in which Pakistan sees value in disruption, leverage through instability, and the cultivation of terrorism as a tool of statecraft.

The latest examples come from Pakistan’s powerful military establishment, which has historically dominated the country’s political and security architecture. It started with Pakistan Army Chief Asim Munir’s interaction with expatriates in Florida, United States, in August this year, wherein he deployed a comparison that captured headlines for its brazenness. “India is a shining Mercedes coming on a highway like a Ferrari,” he said. “But we are a dump truck full of gravel. If the truck hits the car, who is going to be the loser?”

On its surface, such remarks appeared to emphasize resilience: that Pakistan as a lumbering truck may not be glamorous, but it can endure any difficulty and overcome any obstacle. Yet the real significance of this ironical analogy lies elsewhere. It implies that Pakistan retains the capability as well as readiness to cause strategic disruption, even at great cost to itself, and in doing so shape regional outcomes. The metaphor glorifies collision as an equalizer. It suggests that while India surges economically and diplomatically, Pakistan’s relevance lies in its ability to destabilize.

A parallel metaphor that is being increasingly used by the country’s political and military elite describes Pakistan as a “railway engine”, that is portrays it on a slow, traditional, yet persistent mode of progress. The image is meant to frame Pakistan as foundational to South Asian stability, chugging along in contrast to India’s sleek modernization. Implicit in this imagery is the claim that the region’s momentum, direction, and safety can still be both set and derailed by Pakistan’s choices.

Such analogies may seem rhetorical to common masses and yet contain within them a longstanding doctrine of purposeful disruption that Pakistan has employed in the last several decades. It is based on its decades-old strategic worldview wherein it has consistently valorized confrontation, framing India as an existential threat, and more domestically more significant objective of positioning proxy-terrorism as a legitimate extension of state power. 

Such a propagandistic rhetoric has found currency amidst Asim Munir’s sweeping consolidation of authority through constitutional amendments to expanded control over the judiciary, nuclear command, and internal security. This narrative push is designed to reinforce his martial narrative that Pakistan may be economically battered, politically unstable, and diplomatically isolated, but it remains capable of inflicting damage that forces global attention.

As such, while Pakistan’s establishment may dress its messaging in fresh metaphors, the underlying doctrine has barely evolved. Since the 26/11 attacks by ISI supported Lashkar-e-Toiba terrorists in Mumbai, there has been little substantive reckoning within Pakistan about the use of terrorist groups as strategic assets. If anything, the rhetoric of state officials in the years since reveals continuity, not change.

It should be noted that there has been consensus within Pakistani establishment, as exposed by the statements from senior retired generals, political leaders, and religious ideologues, who often reiterate that proxy terrorism can be a “force multiplier” against India. Such an argument has been repeatedly framed as asymmetric necessity given that since Pakistan cannot match New Delhi conventionally, so it must leverage “non-state actors” to disrupt India’s rise even as its own economy falters. It explains why and how terrorist groups like LeT and Jaish-e-Mohammed have been normalized within the socio-political discourse of the country by portraying terrorists as instruments of pressure than what they are: terrorists.

This mindset is reflected not only in Pakistan’s reluctance to prosecute figures like Hafiz Saeed or Masood Azhar, but also in its sustained tolerance of groups that openly espouse cross-border terrorism sold as so-called jihad. And the danger of such rhetoric is not abstract as it has recurrently translated into violence that has spilled far beyond India’s borders. Be it 26/11 attacks of 2008 in India or the 9/11 attacks in the United States in 2001, these showcased how such a mentality that the Pakistani establishment patronises can have devastating human costs.

Just as the 9/11 attacks targeted symbols of American openness and global leadership which the world forever, 26/11 targeted India’s cosmopolitan identity to sow internal discord and disrupt its global economic rise. Therefore, should Pakistan’s leadership continue to present disruption as strategic leverage, as they are doing currently, the risk of mass-casualty attacks would remain unacceptably high.

Seen from such a lens, Asim Munir’s use of analogies like ‘dump truck’ or the ‘railway engine’ are not harmless political theatre. It is a reflection of a national mindset of a country of mismanaged economy, which is unable to compete with rising India in any domain, sees strategic relevance in the threat of sabotage. It is a worldview that sees regional equilibrium not in growth or cooperation but in managed instability maintained through terrorist proxies. And that worldview does not confine risk to South Asia, which is why Pakistan’s analogies matter. 

In such a scenario, while India cannot afford any complacency, it makes it implicit on the international community to acknowledge that South Asian terrorism, especially when linked to state sponsorship like Pakistan’s role, poses a threat transcending national borders.

Nevertheless, two lessons stand out. Firstly, there needs to be greater transnational intelligence synergy at the international level. For instance, given that countries like India, the United States, the EU, Israel, Southeast Asian partners, and Gulf states, have a shared interest in tackling terrorism, they would need to bolster real-time intelligence exchange, establish joint tracking of financing networks, and coordinated monitoring of extremist propaganda.

Secondly, diplomatic isolation of terror-sponsoring frameworks is no longer optional. The world must explicitly differentiate between Pakistan as a nation and Pakistan’s security apparatus as a destabilizing actor and shape policy accordingly. This is because civilian government is a façade in that country as it is overwhelmingly dominated by the military establishment. 

Therefore, the “dump truck” and “railway engine” analogies may have been meant to project endurance, but they expose a darker truth of Pakistan’s military leadership’s outdated belief that regional power can be exercised through disruption and not development. Unless such a mindset is confronted at political, diplomatic, and strategic levels, the international community should rest assured that its risks will not be borne by India alone. 

Disclaimer: Views expressed by writers in this section are their own and do not reflect Milli Chronicle’s point-of-view.