If any country, including Pakistan, ever invades India in the name of Ghazwa-e-Hind, they will find Indian Muslims defending their homeland

Among the many ideas that have found their way into the modern Islamic revivalist narrative, few are as persistently misunderstood—or dangerously misused—as the concept of Ghazwa-e-Hind. Popularized in contemporary times by figures like the late Dr. Israr Ahmed, it has come to be viewed not as a historical episode or a symbolic metaphor, but as a yet-to-be-fulfilled call to military conquest. This interpretation, though emotionally charged, is divorced from Islamic orthodoxy, historical context, and contemporary political reality.

This misreading of Islamic eschatology has become especially potent in Pakistan, where it has been weaponized by a segment of the clergy and even military-linked media. But what the masses often don’t see is that such a vision not only contradicts Islamic legal tradition, but also threatens the harmony of the Indian subcontinent, especially the future of Indian Muslims.

A Historical View—Not a Military Manual

The hadith that mentions Ghazwa-e-Hind is reported in Sunan an-Nasa’i (Hadith 3175), Musnad Ahmad (Hadith 23804), and al-Tabarani’s al-Mu’jam al-Kabir. The narration speaks of two groups saved from Hellfire—one that fights in India and another that accompanies Jesus, the son of Mary, during his second coming. However, Islamic scholars have long disagreed about the authenticity, context, and timeline of these narrations.

Renowned Hadith scholar Shaykh Nasiruddin al-Albani graded some of the chains as weak (da’if), while others like Ibn Hajar al-Asqalani in Fath al-Bari considered them authentic but possibly fulfilled during the early Islamic conquests. Ibn Kathir, in Al-Bidaya wa’l-Nihaya, also noted that the interpretation of these ahadith was limited to earlier periods of conquest.

Classical historians like al-Baladhuri in Futuh al-Buldan detail the campaign of Muhammad bin Qasim into Sindh (712 CE) as a response to an appeal from Muslim merchants and not as a sweeping religious war. The conquest was confined to a narrow region and did not reflect any systematic plan to convert India. Furthermore, the Chachnama, a semi-legendary Persian text documenting this campaign, narrates how religious freedom was granted to local Hindus and temples remained operational under Islamic rule.

Islamic scholar Dr. Ayesha Jalal, in her book Partisans of Allah: Jihad in South Asia, asserts that Ghazwa-e-Hind has been inflated in Pakistan’s religious discourse not because of religious necessity, but due to state-sponsored ideology. She writes that this hadith has “resurfaced with renewed intensity in Pakistan’s strategic imagination, filtered through a millenarian lens.”

The Qur’anic Command: No Compulsion in Religion

The most authoritative source in Islam—the Qur’an—states unequivocally: “There is no compulsion in religion” (Qur’an 2:256). This verse, supported by the consensus (ijma’) of scholars, has been interpreted as a foundational principle of religious freedom. In Tafsir al-Qurtubi, Imam al-Qurtubi elaborates that Islam forbids coercion because belief requires conviction, not force.

The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him), when inviting tribes to Islam, used persuasion, kindness, and exemplary character—not threats. As recorded in Sirat Ibn Hisham and Tabaqat Ibn Sa’d, his approach to da’wah was rooted in wisdom, not warfare.

Moreover, Tafsir al-Tabari on verse 16:125—“Call to the way of your Lord with wisdom and beautiful preaching…”—explains that this verse sets the tone for all Islamic outreach. Any idea that religious dominance can be achieved through military force runs counter to the Qur’anic message and Prophetic model.

Prophecy ≠ Policy

Yes, Islam contains eschatological prophecies—many of which describe dramatic geopolitical changes in the end times.

The Prophet (peace be upon him) never told Muslims to build strategies around ghazwaat of the future. Instead, he focused on justice, reform, and internal purification.

Consider the Ghazwa of Abwa and Ghazwa of Ushayrah—expeditions that ended without a single arrow being shot. As documented in Al-Maghazi of al-Waqidi, many ghazwaat were precautionary or diplomatic. This is supported by Imam al-Nawawi’s commentary on Sahih Muslim, where he notes that military action in Islam is conditional on ethical, legal, and political necessities—not eschatological ambitions.

The Spread of Islam: A Moral Project, Not a Military One

Historically, Islam’s most significant growth occurred in regions where armies never marched. Southeast Asia, East Africa, and large swathes of India were introduced to Islam not through conquest but through trade and spiritual invitation.

Dr. Richard Eaton, in his landmark study The Rise of Islam and the Bengal Frontier, highlights how Sufi saints and local rulers facilitated Islamization in Bengal through land reforms, spiritual guidance, and social integration—not through war. Similarly, Syed Abul Hasan Ali Nadwi in Islam and the World emphasizes that Islamic civilization at its best was spread through service, justice, and education.

The Prophet himself said: “I was sent to perfect noble character” (Musnad Ahmad, Hadith 8595). This foundational hadith is echoed in the works of Imam al-Ghazali in Ihya Ulum al-Din, who taught that spiritual excellence—not militarism—is the soul of Islamic revival.

Pakistan’s Fantasy vs Indian Muslims’ Reality

One of the more troubling developments is the Pakistani state’s occasional use of Ghazwa-e-Hind as a symbolic justification for cross-border ambitions. In textbooks, speeches, and even TV dramas, the narrative of a future campaign to “liberate” Indian Muslims is floated as a divine responsibility.

But such narratives overlook one major truth: Indian Muslims are not waiting for salvation. They are proud citizens of India, heirs to over a thousand years of Islamic contribution to the subcontinent.

India has produced towering Islamic scholars—Shaykh Abdul Haq Muhaddith Dehlawi, Shah Waliullah al-Dihlawi, Maulana Azad, and countless others. Its institutions—from Darul Uloom Deoband to Nadwatul Ulama—have trained generations of global scholars. The Indian Muslim identity is not subordinate to any external power. It is deeply rooted in the land, language, and ethos of India.

If any country, including Pakistan, ever invades India in the name of Ghazwa-e-Hind, they will find Indian Muslims defending their homeland, not cheering from the sidelines. As the Qur’an instructs: “Stand firmly for justice…” (4:135). That includes standing against unjust aggression—even if it’s done in the name of religion.

From Brigadier Muhammad Usman, the hero of Nowshera, to Captain Haneefuddin, who laid down his life in Kargil, Indian Muslims have proven their loyalty with blood.

Let no one mistake their silence for weakness or their faith for disloyalty. The Prophet loved Makkah. The Indian Muslim loves India.

Time for Responsibility, Not Rhetoric

Dr. Israr Ahmed’s intellectual legacy is mixed. While he awakened many to the idea of Islamic revival, his fixation on militarism—untethered from contemporary fiqh and political wisdom—misguided many. Today, young Muslims must be trained not in war slogans but in the Qur’an, Hadith, ethics, law, and service.

The return of a Caliphate, if it happens, must mirror the model of the Prophet—founded on justice, consultation, and mercy. Not through firebrand nationalism or weaponized hadiths.

Ghazwa-e-Hind has become more of a political trope than a theological reality. When read responsibly, Islamic tradition offers no justification for cross-border aggression dressed in prophecy. The real ghazwa we need today is against ignorance, sectarianism, and political manipulation.

Let us turn our energies toward rebuilding our societies—through knowledge, reform, and character. That is the legacy of the Prophet. That is the path of the righteous.

Speaking at the Convention for Overseas Pakistanis in Islamabad—with Prime Minister Shahbaz Sharif in attendance—General Munir declared that Pakistan was created on the basis of “every possible difference” between the two religious communities.

“Our religion is different. Our customs are different. Our traditions are different. Our thoughts are different. Our ambitions are different,” Munir said, invoking the ideological foundation laid by Muhammad Ali Jinnah in the 1940s. “You must tell this to your children so that they never forget the story of Pakistan.”

But this “story” is not just about differences—it’s a carefully preserved narrative used by Pakistan’s military establishment to maintain a stranglehold on power, distract the public from economic failures, and perpetuate enmity with India. It is a story that has long come at the cost of regional peace, minority rights, and Pakistan’s own internal harmony.

Munir’s speech, delivered with a religious tone befitting his reputation as a “Hafiz-e-Quran”, did little to hide the Army’s obsession with defining Pakistan solely through what it is not—India. His remarks reflected the establishment’s enduring dependence on the ideological rhetoric of 1947, a time when the wounds of Partition were still fresh, and the world had not yet seen the consequences of such rigid identity politics.

A Doctrine Past Its Expiry Date

The Two-Nation Theory has not aged well. If anything, it collapsed under its own contradictions in 1971, when Bangladesh—originally East Pakistan—broke away in a bloody war that exposed the myth of religious unity. Despite sharing the same religion, East Pakistanis rejected the economic and political dominance of West Pakistan, shattering the illusion that Islam alone could form a cohesive national identity.

And yet, here we are in 2025, with the head of Pakistan’s most powerful institution lecturing overseas citizens to hold tight to that expired ideology. What purpose does this serve, other than reinforcing xenophobia, hostility, and a warped sense of nationalism rooted in exclusion and antagonism?

Critics across the globe have not held back. Indian strategic expert Aditya Raj Kaul accused Munir of “exposing his hate for Hindus and India,” while prominent Pakistani journalist Taha Siddiqui called the remarks an attempt to “brainwash youth” with dangerous falsehoods.

Assam Chief Minister Himanta Biswa Sarma called the speech a reminder of the stark ideological divide between the two nations, urging India to stop harboring illusions about reconciliation with its western neighbor.

The Real Jugular: The Army’s Grip on Pakistan

Munir’s speech also touched on Pakistan’s usual talking points—Kashmir and Balochistan. His threat-laced comments about Baloch rebels further illustrated how the military sees dissent as terrorism, rather than a call for justice. Kashmir, once again called Pakistan’s “jugular vein,” is less a heartfelt issue and more a strategic tool—one that sustains the military’s budget, influence, and unchallenged supremacy in Pakistan’s political life.

As Delhi-based journalist Rishi Suri rightly pointed out, Kashmir has become more of a “business model” for Pakistan’s generals than a national cause. Strategic analyst Sonam Mahajan summed it up bluntly, “Kashmir is Pakistan’s jugular vein, which explains why Pakistan has been in the ICU for 78 years, sustained only by IMF oxygen and jihadist morphine.”

An Unyielding Establishment in a Changing World

The tragedy of General Munir’s speech is that it wasn’t surprising. It’s the same tired script the Pakistan Army has relied on for decades—where religion is used to unify, enemies are used to justify military supremacy, and history is rewritten to prevent progress.

Pakistan’s establishment had a choice. It could have embraced a narrative of peace, coexistence, and modern statehood. Instead, it chose to double down on identity politics rooted in fear and historical grievances.

By clinging to an outdated and divisive ideology, General Asim Munir and the Pakistan military aren’t just looking backward—they’re actively obstructing the possibility of a forward-looking, inclusive, and stable Pakistan.

And perhaps that is by design. Because in a truly democratic and progressive Pakistan, the Army might no longer be the most powerful voice in the room.