by Irshad Ahmad
The ceasefire between India and Pakistan remains technically intact, but the psychological war rages on. While Pakistanis celebrate what they perceive as a strategic success, India finds itself trapped in a vortex of confusion—its public torn between mourning losses and demanding accountability from its leaders. On digital battlegrounds, Pakistani and Chinese social media users amplify their victory through biting memes, while India’s humiliated media apparatus responds not with introspection but with escalated propaganda, feeding the very cycle it claims to despise.
This paradoxical reversal of roles demands examination. For decades, India meticulously cultivated an international image as a secular, democratic giant committed to peace, while Pakistan was systematically branded as a failing state plagued by extremism and terrorism. Yet in recent years, these carefully constructed narratives have undergone a startling inversion. How did Pakistan shed its imposed stereotypes while India inherited them?
The roots of this transformation stretch back to the Cold War’s dying days. During the 1980s Afghan conflict, global powers deliberately weaponized religious ideology as an anti-communist tool. Madrassas became factories producing jihadist literature, with intelligence agencies like the CIA and ISI rebranding a geopolitical struggle as a holy war. When Soviet forces withdrew, the international community abandoned the region, leaving behind a generation of radicalized fighters and a power vacuum that birthed the Taliban—initially viewed by some as strategic assets rather than threats.
The post-9/11 era brought devastating consequences for Pakistan. Forced to turn against its former proxies, the nation suffered unprecedented suicide attacks that transformed urban centers into war zones. Operation Zarb-e-Azb represented a determined effort to reclaim control, but victory came at a cost—the violence simply metastasized into Balochistan and KPK. Throughout this period, Pakistan’s accusations of Indian interference through RAW fell on deaf international ears, setting the stage for future confrontation.
The breaking point arrived with twin tragedies: first, the Jafar Express attack that claimed numerous young Pakistani soldiers, then the Pulwama incident that India immediately blamed on Pakistan. What followed was a spectacle of manufactured hysteria. As Indian missiles launched, its media performed astonishing feats of fiction—declaring the capture of Lahore, Karachi and Islamabad while Lahoris calmly drank their morning tea, utterly unaware of their supposed conquest. This disconnect between media narrative and ground reality revealed a dangerous national pathology: a population conditioned to expect nothing less than total victory in every encounter, whether on cricket fields or battlefields.
The psychological impact of this conditioning cannot be overstated. Where Pakistan developed resilience through decades of adversity, India cultivated what can only be termed strategic narcissism—an unshakable belief in inherent superiority that crumbles upon first contact with reality. When Pakistan’s unexpected counterpunch landed, India reacted not with strategic recalibration but with the wounded fury of a cornered animal, lashing out indiscriminately.
This crisis of perception points to a deeper malignancy. The land that gave the world Gandhi’s philosophy of nonviolence and the Bhagavad Gita’s wisdom now worships at the altar of Hindutva aggression. Media outlets that should facilitate informed debate instead function as propaganda arms, transforming citizens into angry mobs incapable of processing complexity or defeat. The tragic irony is that this manufactured heroism has made India strategically weaker, not stronger—a nation so invested in its myth of invincibility that it cannot develop authentic resilience.
For the region, the implications are dire. Unchecked arrogance inevitably self-destructs, while resilience forged through hardship often prevails. Pakistan’s ability to withstand decades of crises suggests greater staying power than India’s brittle nationalism can muster. Until both nations escape their mutually reinforcing cycles of myth-making—India’s delusions of grandeur and Pakistan’s defensive posturing—the subcontinent will remain trapped in escalating hostility.
As ancient wisdom reminds us, hatred first consumes those who wield it. The question remains whether either nation will heed this lesson before the flames spread beyond control. The ceasefire may hold on paper, but the war of perceptions—more dangerous than any border skirmish—continues unabated. In this conflict, the first casualty was truth; the ultimate victim may be peace itself.
This essay’s strength lies in its balanced critique that avoids nationalist tropes while highlighting dangerous media dynamics. The historical context provides crucial framing, and the psychological analysis offers a fresh perspective on familiar tensions. The conclusion powerfully ties together the threads while leaving room for further discussion. And, recent examples and incidents strengthen the timeliness of this analysis.
About the Author:
Irshad Ahmad Mughal is a visiting faculty in the Department of Political Science, University of the Punjab, Lahore Pakistan.
