Latest news with #SanjivKrishanSood
The Wire
2 days ago
- Politics
- The Wire
After Pahalgam and Sindoor: Questions India Must Ask Itself
Menu हिंदी తెలుగు اردو Home Politics Economy World Security Law Science Society Culture Editor's Pick Opinion Support independent journalism. Donate Now Security After Pahalgam and Sindoor: Questions India Must Ask Itself Sanjiv Krishan Sood 4 minutes ago While India's armed response to the Pahalgam massacre was swift and strategically effective, the deeper questions about intelligence failures, foreign policy and the sustainability of retaliatory doctrine remain unresolved. Real journalism holds power accountable Since 2015, The Wire has done just that. But we can continue only with your support. Contribute now If Operation Sindoor began as a limited attack on nine locations linked to Pakistan-based terrorist groups, the Pakistani response prompted the Indian defence forces to undertake a number of actions aimed at Pakistan's military establishment. Through precision strikes on militant infrastructure, followed by carefully calibrated aggression, the Indian Air Force and Army degraded key assets while preventing any substantial damage to our own military or civilian infrastructure. The response to the massacre at Pahalgam carried out by terrorists linked to Pakistan was measured but resolute. It was aimed as prompting Islamabad to reassess its state policy of harbouring and sponsoring terror. India's declaration that all acts of terrorism will now be treated as acts of war marks a significant shift in doctrine. That said, six weeks after the Pahalgam tragedy and nearly a month since the cessation of hostilities, several critical questions remain unanswered by both our security and political leadership. The first is whether Operation Sindoor achieved its stated objectives. The Prime Minister, in a Cabinet Committee on Security (CCS) meeting, gave the armed forces a free hand to destroy the terror infrastructure in Pakistan. On the nights of May 6th and 7th, nine terrorist camps were reportedly neutralized, and numerous militants killed. But can we truly say the infrastructure has been dismantled? Is the deterrent strong enough to prevent future attacks? The evidence doesn't inspire confidence. Since the 2016 Uri surgical strikes and the 2019 Balakot air strikes following Pulwama, Pakistan-based terrorists have continued to strike at Indian targets. Pathankot, Kathua, Udhampur, and other places have seen terror attacks even after high-profile retaliatory actions. Supporting terrorism in India appears to be entrenched in Pakistan's state doctrine. The reported decision of the Pakistani government to offer financial aid to the families of slain terrorists and rebuild destroyed camps signals no intent to step back. More troubling is the international silence. Aside from muted support from Russia, India has struggled to garner vocal backing from major global powers. In contrast, Pakistan received overt support from China and Turkey—both of whom extended diplomatic cover and material support, including drones and modern aircraft used during the brief conflict. Despite a two-week window before striking the terrorist camps, India failed to shape global opinion or present a compelling narrative. This diplomatic vacuum echoes the aftermath of Balakot, when Pakistan successfully projected its version of events internationally. The all-party delegations India dispatched to various countries gained limited traction, mostly among nations with marginal influence on global affairs. This stands in sharp contrast to India's success in 1971 and during the Kargil conflict in 1999, when it managed to effectively justify its actions and rally international opinion. Why the shift? The present government's handling of foreign policy and communication strategy deserves closer scrutiny. That brings us to the ceasefire itself. By May 10th, Indian forces reportedly had the upper hand. Yet it was the US president who first announced the ceasefire, followed by India's own foreign secretary. President Trump's repeated claims of having mediated the ceasefire raise uncomfortable questions. Has India, which long resisted international mediation and stood firmly for bilateralism, allowed itself to be hyphenated with Pakistan once again? While the decision to end hostilities may have been strategically sound, it was an anti-climax for a public whipped into a frenzy by media speculation and political rhetoric. Talk of reclaiming Pakistan-occupied Kashmir and total victory created unrealistic expectations. The actual motivations for the ceasefire remain speculative. It may have been American pressure, given the escalatory risks between two nuclear powers. Or it could have been India's own calculation—that sufficient punishment had been meted out, and further escalation would only risk unnecessary civilian casualties, particularly in areas like Poonch and Rajouri. The safety of civilians in border areas is another glaring concern. While cities were issued alerts, conducted blackouts, and prepared for contingencies, residents living within range of Pakistani small arms and artillery fire were left dangerously exposed. Civilian deaths and property destruction in border towns were substantial. The state must ensure compensation and future protection for these vulnerable populations. The economic implications of conflict also merit discussion. India, now a $4 trillion economy, has far more to lose than Pakistan in a prolonged war. With vast developmental needs and social infrastructure demands, even short conflicts strain national resources. A quick resolution to conflict is, in this sense, in India's own interest. But that only makes the need for a coherent and sustainable response doctrine even more urgent. Our new policy of equating terror attacks with acts of war raises critical strategic questions. What is the threshold for retaliation? Would attacks outside Kashmir trigger the same response as those within? Does the number of casualties factor into the decision? Can every incident justify cross-border action without risking long-term regional stability and international isolation? Notably, India's responses have escalated over time—from Uri to Balakot to Sindoor. Where does this trajectory end, especially with a politically unstable and militarily erratic neighbour? The potential for future Chinese involvement further complicates matters. India's strategic community must urgently engage with these questions. Yet, above all, the most urgent question remains: how was the Pahalgam massacre allowed to happen in the first place? Why did our intelligence agencies fail to detect preparatory activity? How did they miss the apparent increase in satellite imagery demand for Pahalgam in February? Such lapses are inexcusable—they cost 26 innocent lives at Pahalgam, and many more in the conflict that followed. These intelligence failures are not isolated. They follow a disturbing pattern seen in Pulwama, Pathankot, Udhampur, Kathua, Mumbai, and other attacks. Yet accountability remains elusive. Why was there no security detail at such a high-profile tourist site? Who in the chain of command failed—the SP, DIG, IG, or DG? Are our forces overly fixated on protecting politicians and VIPs at the cost of ordinary citizens? Some may argue that providing security everywhere is impractical. But complete absence of police presence at a known tourist destination is indefensible. Did complacency set in after the abrogation of Article 370 and the successful state elections, leading officials to believe that the threat had passed? And finally, why do these tragedies keep recurring? Has any impartial inquiry been conducted into past lapses? Have recommendations been implemented? The public has a right to know whether lessons are being learned, or merely filed away. These questions may sound rhetorical. But unless they are asked, addressed, and acted upon, we risk reliving the same tragedy. The lives lost at Pahalgam demand more than patriotic fervour and retaliatory strikes. They demand introspection, accountability, and a strategy that looks beyond the immediate headlines. Sanjiv Krishan Sood was additional director general of the BSF. The Wire is now on WhatsApp. Follow our channel for sharp analysis and opinions on the latest developments. Make a contribution to Independent Journalism Related News Modi's Search for Global Solidarity Rings Hollow Amid Rising Domestic Intolerance in India Eight Days, Nine Rallies, Six States: Tracking PM Modi and Operation Sindoor as Campaign Ammunition Gandhi's and Modi's Reflections on 'Sindoor' Are Poles Apart Modi Says 'Not Blood, Hot Sindoor' Flows In His Veins In First Public Address Since Op Sindoor Why a Special Session of the Parliament is Critical to Discuss the Disclosure Made by CDS Chauhan 'Trade Offer Averted India-Pakistan War': Trump Administration Tells US Court From Flowers to Sarees, A Story of PM Modi's Communication Imagery Post-Operation Sindoor By Calling For the Boycott of Foreign Goods, Modi Contradicts Himself Facing Pushback, Derision and Anger, BJP Says News of Sindoor Distribution Plans 'Fake' View in Desktop Mode About Us Contact Us Support Us © Copyright. All Rights Reserved.
The Wire
16-05-2025
- Politics
- The Wire
In India's TV War Rooms, the ‘Generals' Were Loud, Facts Optional, and the Enemy Always in Retreat
Menu हिंदी తెలుగు اردو Home Politics Economy World Security Law Science Society Culture Editor's Pick Opinion Support independent journalism. Donate Now Media In India's TV War Rooms, the 'Generals' Were Loud, Facts Optional, and the Enemy Always in Retreat Sanjiv Krishan Sood 35 minutes ago Now that a ceasefire has been announced, the curtain has come down. Sadly, this means the media may soon return to its usual programming: communal outrage, political vendettas, and panel discussions where decibel levels count more than insight. Illustration: The Wire. Real journalism holds power accountable Since 2015, The Wire has done just that. But we can continue only with your support. Donate now When Operation Sindoor began, India's television newsrooms went into overdrive. The usual suspects – political party spokespersons and loudmouth analysts – quietly stepped aside, making space for a fresh crop of self-styled defence experts, security analysts, and retired military personnel, suddenly back in demand. This new cast did little to elevate the discourse. If anything, they took the absurdity to greater heights. Many had emerged from the obscurity of long retirements (your humble narrator included), summoned into studio lights and seated before frothing anchors chasing ratings. Out came the long-unused three-piece suits, and with them, a sober tone – quickly abandoned as panelists launched into theatrical calls to 'annihilate Pakistan' and 'take back PoK.' Some confidently claimed that enemy generals were shivering in bunkers, while others cited unnamed sources to report that Pakistani leaders had chartered planes to send their families to the West. One retired Major distinguished himself with rapid-fire verbal salvos at his Pakistani counterpart – missiles of rhetoric that would put BrahMos to shame. A moustachioed General, not to be outdone, turned his ire inward, lambasting India's political leadership for agreeing to a ceasefire. With a full-throated roar, he demanded that Pakistan be wiped off 'the face of the Atlas' – a cartographic flourish that surely left Mercator himself spinning in his grave. Awards may not be in the offing, but these two certainly earned the unofficial title of TRP Commanders-in-Chief. Meanwhile, news channels diligently kept the public 'informed.' One ran a breaking update announcing that the Prime Minister had arrived at his office – perhaps under the impression that citizens needed to be reassured that he does, in fact, have one. Others breathlessly reported that the Chiefs of Defence Staff were seen in combat uniforms, their attire now imbued with geopolitical symbolism. When I mildly suggested to an anchor that we might be over-reading sartorial choices, my microphone was promptly muted. A Hindi channel took things up a notch. Its star anchor – who has made a career out of camouflage cosplay – set up a war game scenario live on air. In a curious imitation of exercises at military academies, newly anointed security experts jostled to make their strategic points, mimicking the enthusiasm of young Captains attending their first Junior Command Course. That modern warfare has evolved well beyond the Cold War-era doctrines they once practised did not seem to bother anyone. The aim wasn't analysis – it was performance. Fortunately, I was spared from participating. Another channel summoned me at the same time, eager for my 'expertise.' The anchor-general later published an 'appreciation' of the conflict, carefully constructing each scenario to end in Indian victory. Ironically, none of them foresaw the kind of operation that India actually carried out on the night of May 6 and 7, striking militant camps across the border. What was missing, across channels, was verification. Reports about decimated Pakistani battalions, captured cities, and destroyed ports all relied on 'unnamed sources.' One channel confidently declared Indian troops were deep inside Pakistani territory – but couldn't say where from. 'Secrecy' was preserved in unintentionally comic fashion. Reporters were asked to go live 'from the ground,' but instructed not to disclose their location. 'Nilesh,' an anchor would begin, 'who is reporting from somewhere near Barmer, please tell us what you're seeing – without revealing where you are.' The sound of air raid sirens – played every few minutes for dramatic effect – added to the chaos. Eventually, the government had to step in and ask them to stop. Perhaps the only thing the media was truly fair about was panic. They spread it equally on both sides of the border. Pakistani viewers were informed of impending annihilation; Indian viewers were told that multiple cities had come under air attack, and that the Nagrota Army base had suffered a fidayeen strike. The entertainment value was undeniable. After years of avoiding television, I found myself tuning in – not for information, but for a good laugh. The coverage of Operation Sindoor could well qualify as 2025's most successful comedy series. Now that a ceasefire has been announced, the curtain has come down. Sadly, this means the media may soon return to its usual programming: communal outrage, political vendettas, and panel discussions where decibel levels count more than insight. Until then, those of us who survived the TV war games will quietly fold away our suits and wait for the next invasion – on screen. Sanjiv Krishan Sood was additional director general of the BSF. This piece was first published on The India Cable – a premium newsletter from The Wire & Galileo Ideas – and has been updated and republished here. To subscribe to The India Cable, click here. Make a contribution to Independent Journalism Related News Live: India, Pakistan Continuing Confidence-Building Measures to Reduce Level of Alertness Petition Urging Indians, Pakistanis to Reject Division and Hate Gets Over 5,500 Signatures Habits of Thought in the Time of Terrorism and War J&K: For Residents Who Live Near the LoC, Life Is Now a Living Nightmare The Path Forward For India and Pakistan Should Be Shaped By Peace, Not By Excitement Over War Games The Wire Wrap | 'Mediator' Trump in India-Pakistan Ceasefire and More High-Stakes Nuclear Poker: How Pakistan's Deterrent Still Checks India—Even After Operation Sindoor BSF Jawan Who Was Captured by Pakistan in April Released, Handed Over to Indian Authorities Army Commanders Have 'Full Authority' to Counter Future Ceasefire Violations: Military View in Desktop Mode About Us Contact Us Support Us © Copyright. All Rights Reserved.
