The April 22 terror attack in India’s Pahalgam district of Jammu & Kashmir is yet another testimony of state-sponsored terrorism, where 26 innocent tourists were brutally killed in cold blood. What makes this act even more horrifying is the chilling detail that the gunmen reportedly asked all victims about their religion before shooting them—ensuring that only non-Muslims were targeted. In several harrowing accounts, the attackers demanded that their captives recite the Kalma, a core Islamic declaration of faith, and in some disturbing cases, they stripped the male victims to further verify their religious identity. This premeditated massacre, perpetrated by The Resistance Front (TRF)—a well-known proxy of the Pakistan-based, UN-proscribed terror group Lashkar-e-Taiba (LeT)—exposes once again how entrenched terrorist networks continue to flourish across the border, even as Pakistan’s economy teeters on collapse and its political stability remains under constant threat.
Over the years, LeT and other state-supported terror organisations have repeatedly targeted innocent civilians in India, aiming to spread fear and disrupt harmony. These groups, funded and shielded by Pakistani state apparatus, have been responsible for some of the most horrific acts of terror in modern South Asian history. From the attack on the Indian Parliament in 2001 to the audacious 26/11 Mumbai attacks in 2008, and more recently, the Uri (2016), Pulwama (2019), Kupwara (2020), Ganderbal (2024), and Reasi (2024) attacks—the pattern remains consistent. Each assault has been designed not to target combatants, but to inflict maximum pain on unarmed civilians, tourists, and local communities. The underlying goal has always been to destabilise Jammu & Kashmir, sow communal discord, and challenge the sovereignty of India by proxy.
The timing of this latest attack is also telling. Just a few days before the Pahalgam massacre, Pakistan’s Army Chief, General Asim Munir, made a provocative public address on April 16, in which he stoked communal sentiments and incited overseas Pakistanis on the Kashmir issue. His statement that “Hindus and Muslims are completely different” and that Kashmir must remain a battleground echoes the deeply divisive two-nation theory that led to the violent Partition of 1947. Gen. Munir’s remarks, suggesting that the youth of Pakistan should be ideologically aligned with extremist interpretations, mirror the doctrine of radical organisations like LeT and Jaish-e-Mohammed. Rather than promoting peace and dialogue, such rhetoric directly undermines regional stability and signals an unwillingness by Pakistan’s top leadership to curb terrorist influence.
What makes the Pahalgam attack especially egregious is that it was not conducted under the fog of war or military engagement—it was an unprovoked act against families on vacation. These tourists had come to witness the natural beauty of Kashmir and partake in its culture and peace. Instead, they were met with bullets, brutality, and hatred. The selective targeting based on religion is a sinister attempt to communalise the Kashmir issue and must be condemned by all civilised societies.
The international community must also take notice. While India has consistently pushed for the designation of these terrorist groups and their leaders under UN Security Council sanctions, progress has often been obstructed by geopolitical calculations. However, there should be no ambiguity in recognising that these groups represent a threat to global peace and security. Nations cannot afford to remain silent or neutral when faced with ideologies that glorify violence and martyrdom through the killing of innocents. Support for terrorism—whether ideological, financial, or territorial—must invite global sanctions and diplomatic isolation.
While India remains committed to resolving disputes through peaceful dialogue, it must also be firm in protecting its citizens and borders. History has shown that issues between nations can be resolved amicably through sustained negotiations and diplomacy. Wars between countries are unfortunate but sometimes necessary measures taken when all other channels have failed. In such situations, conflict is declared and fought between armed forces under international norms. What happened in Pahalgam was not war—it was murder. It was a targeted execution of civilians in peacetime and must be treated as a war crime.
Killing unarmed civilians as a means to settle international disputes is not just an act of terrorism—it is a crime against humanity. No ideology, no political dispute, and no religious justification can excuse the slaughter of innocents. These are not acts of resistance; they are acts of cowardice. Such attacks do not further any cause—they only breed more violence, destroy families, and tear apart the fabric of peace.
India, for its part, has acted with remarkable restraint in the face of repeated provocations. But restraint should not be mistaken for weakness. The government has already undertaken a series of counterterror operations, intelligence crackdowns, and diplomatic outreach to ensure that justice is served and future attacks are prevented. Additionally, security has been beefed up in tourist zones and high-risk areas, with efforts to revive the confidence of travellers and locals alike.
India’s strength lies in its pluralism, its constitutional values, and its unity in the face of division. The Pahalgam attack may have been intended to create fear, but it has only reinforced the resolve of a nation that has seen far worse and emerged stronger each time. The memory of those 26 lives lost must become a rallying call for peace, justice, and an unwavering stand against terrorism.
Ultimately the world must stop treating terror as a regional problem and start recognising it as a global epidemic. Whether it is in Kashmir, Kabul, Paris, or Nairobi—terrorism in any form, from any ideology, must be confronted and defeated. Silence and appeasement are not options. Justice demands action. And justice begins with naming the crime for what it is: cowardice.
