SHIVANG SATYA GUPTA
It is often said that those who do not learn from history are condemned to repeat it. Sadly, this adage fits the Pakistani military establishment and its self-styled Field Marshal, Asim Munir, perfectly. Instead of introspection or course correction, Munir has once again resorted to his tried-and-tested playbook: issuing reckless threats against India, peddling falsehoods about Kashmir, and offering open encouragement to the ecosystem of terror that Pakistan has so meticulously nurtured for decades.
Speaking at the Pakistan Naval Academy in Karachi this weekend, Munir unleashed a familiar torrent of venom against India, accusing New Delhi of escalating regional tensions — all while conveniently ignoring the blood on his own hands and the rogue nation he leads. These latest remarks, dripping with malice and devoid of any factual grounding, are a continuation of his infamous “jugular vein” speech in April — a statement that was as provocative as it was historically delusional.
Munir’s incendiary rhetoric is not being delivered in a vacuum. It comes against the backdrop of the gruesome Pahalgam terror attack on April 22 — one of the deadliest attacks in Jammu and Kashmir in recent memory. In a horror that shocked the conscience of the nation and the world, 26 Indian touristswere brutally gunned down after being asked their religious identity.
The fingerprints on this massacre led straight to Pakistan. The attack was carried out by The Resistance Front (TRF), a proxy outfit with direct links to Lashkar-e-Taiba, operating under the patronage of Pakistan’s military-intelligence complex. It was not lost on anyone that this attack came barely a week after Munir’s “jugular vein” provocation — a pattern that India has, unfortunately, witnessed far too often over the decades.
India’s response was swift, precise, and resolute. On the night of May 7–8, the Indian Armed Forces launched Operation Sindoor, a carefully calibrated military campaign targeting nine terror launchpads not just in the territories of India illegally encroached by Pakistan, but also deep within Pakistani territory.
Unlike Pakistan’s indiscriminate and cowardly tactics, India’s operation was marked by clinical precision. No civilian infrastructure was touched; no Pakistani military assets were targeted — a demonstration of the discipline and professionalism of India’s armed forces. The objective was singular and uncompromising: to degrade Pakistan’s terror infrastructure.
By the end of the operation, over 100 terrorists were neutralised, several launchpads were obliterated, and key terror networks were severely crippled. Defence analysts worldwide have since described Operation Sindoor as a watershed moment — an escalation even bigger in scale and consequence than the 2019 Balakot airstrikes.
Predictably, Pakistan’s response oscillated between denial, victimhood, and feeble attempts at retaliation. There were limited missile exchanges and sporadic cross-border skirmishes, but as the situation escalated, it was Pakistan that begged for a ceasefire, not India.
In the diplomatic arena, India made it crystal clear that the old rules of engagement were no longer valid. In an unprecedented move, New Delhi suspended the Indus Waters Treaty of 1960, a pillar of Indo-Pak relations for over six decades. Additionally, India launched a global diplomatic offensive, highlighting Pakistan’s continued role as a state sponsor of terrorism.
India’s position was uncompromising: until Pakistan dismantles the terror syndicate it shelters, there will be no engagement, no dialogue, and no compromise. The Ministry of External Affairs, backed by an unprecedented bipartisan political consensus within India, reaffirmed that terrorism and dialogue cannot coexist.
Faced with mounting pressure — both military and diplomatic — Asim Munir has reverted to the only language the Pakistani establishment knows: bluster and deceit. His speech in Karachi was replete with baseless accusations, including the laughable claim that Pakistan is a “net regional stabiliser.” It would be comical if it weren’t so tragic.
Munir’s obsession with Kashmir, dressed up in the hollow rhetoric of “self-determination” and “United Nations resolutions,” ignores one uncomfortable truth: even the people of the territories of India illegally encroached by Pakistan and Gilgit-Baltistan are today rising against Islamabad’s brutal colonial exploitation.
Even more concerning are credible intelligence reports confirming that Pakistan, under Munir’s orders, is hurriedly rebuilding the terror camps destroyed in Operation Sindoor. Unlike the sprawling facilities of the past, these new camps are smaller, more technologically sophisticated, and located deep within dense forests near the Line of Control (LoC) — a cowardly attempt to avoid Indian drone surveillance and air strikes.
It is clear that Pakistan is not just refusing to learn; it is doubling down on the very policies that have brought it to the brink of failed-state status.
Munir would do well to recognise that the India of today is not the India of yesteryear. This is a new India — confident, assertive, and unafraid to defend its sovereignty with decisive force.
India does not seek war. But India is no longer prepared to tolerate the bleeding wound of cross-border terrorism. The red lines are clear. If Pakistan — whether through its regular army or through its jihadi proxies — attempts another misadventure, the consequences will be far more devastating than anything it has ever experienced.
It is not an empty threat; it is a promise to the 1.4 billion citizens of India that never again will terrorism go unanswered.
Asim Munir and the state he commands are playing with fire. If they continue down this path, they must prepare for the distinct possibility that the very existence of Pakistan, as it is known today, may not survive the consequences. If there is any misadventure from Pakistani army or the terrorists supported by it, Munir must be ready to witness Pakistan getting wiped off the map of the world, this time.
