The 22 April militant attack near Pahalgam, Kashmir, which left 26 Indian tourists dead, has once again brought India and Pakistan to the brink of confrontation. Yet, despite incendiary rhetoric on both sides, the structural realities underpinning this crisis suggest that a full-scale military escalation is unlikely — not because India is in a dominant position, but because the Pakistani establishment is uninterested in putting India’s vulnerabilities to the test.
In the immediate aftermath, India swiftly blamed Pakistan for sponsoring the attack through a proxy outfit, the Kashmir Resistance — a group widely seen as an offshoot of Lashkar-e-Taiba. Prime Minister Narendra Modi responded with promises of "pursuing terrorists to the ends of the earth," announcing punitive diplomatic measures and, most provocatively, suspending India’s participation in the Indus Waters Treaty — a move Pakistan's government immediately labelled an “act of war.”
However, closer examination reveals a striking paradox: India’s military, though projecting strength, is not fully prepared for a large-scale, sustained conflict — and yet it is Pakistan that appears most reluctant to escalate.
India’s Military: Big but Hollow?
The 2019 downing of an Indian fighter jet by Pakistan during the Balakot standoff exposed serious flaws in India's military preparedness. Despite billions poured into modernisation programmes since then — including acquisitions of Rafale jets, S-400 missile defence systems, and heavy investment in local defence manufacturing — India’s armed forces remain in a transitional state.
Official Indian parliamentary testimony in 2023 admitted that over half of India’s military hardware remains classified as “vintage.” Modernisation is underway, but progress is slow and uneven. Supply chain disruptions from the Ukraine war, internal bureaucratic inertia, and the costly deployment of tens of thousands of troops along the China border since 2020 have all sapped momentum.
Although India's economy is now ten times the size of Pakistan’s, its defence spending remains modest relative to GDP, and its new military systems often outpace the personnel’s ability to integrate and operate them effectively. As defence analyst Ajai Shukla warned, the biggest concern is whether India can functionally deter its adversaries — or whether it is "kidding itself" with half-ready forces.
In short, while Modi’s India talks tough, a full-scale war would risk exposing the unfinished state of its military modernisation — at a time when India must also brace for any opportunistic moves by China.
Pakistan’s Calculated Restraint — and Asim Munir's Rhetorical Theatre
Given India’s vulnerabilities, one might expect Pakistan to seize the initiative. Yet the opposite is true. The Pakistani military establishment, led by General Asim Munir, has displayed notable restraint.
Munir’s recent speech — full of bravado about Pakistan’s military readiness and its ability to deliver “unforgettable lessons” to any aggressor — was aimed as much at a domestic audience as at India.
But actions speak louder than words. Instead of preparing the country for confrontation, Munir has moved to stabilise Pakistan’s internal chaos, open discreet lines of communication with India, and avoid giving New Delhi an excuse for escalation.
Despite the fiery rhetoric, while Pakistan retains significant military capabilities, General Munir lacks the political will, strategic vision, and stability needed to initiate or sustain a serious confrontation. It is far more convenient for Munir’s leadership to keep the Imran Khan saga alive — a manufactured soap opera that distracts the public — rather than grapple with the crippling economic and institutional crises that threaten Pakistan’s future.
Weaponising Water: The Looming Catastrophe for Pakistan
India’s threat to suspend or redirect the flow of rivers governed by the 1960 Indus Waters Treaty is not just posturing — it is an existential threat to Pakistan.
Pakistan is overwhelmingly dependent on the Indus river system. Nearly 90% of its agriculture, which employs over 40% of the labour force and accounts for about 19% of GDP, is based on irrigation from the Indus and its tributaries.
A serious disruption in water flow would trigger catastrophic consequences:
- Mass Rural Collapse: Farmers, already struggling with erratic rainfall and soil degradation, would face complete ruin.
- Food Insecurity: Wheat, rice, and cotton production would collapse, leading to acute shortages and skyrocketing food prices.
- Urban Water Riots: Major cities like Karachi, Lahore, and Islamabad would face severe drinking water shortages. Water rationing and black markets would emerge, fuelling public anger.
- Mass Migration: Millions from rural areas would flood into urban centres, overwhelming already crumbling infrastructure and services.
- Political Destabilisation: Inter-provincial conflicts, particularly between Punjab and Sindh over dwindling water supplies, could explode. The risk of large-scale civil unrest would soar.
In short, water weaponisation offers India a means to devastate Pakistan’s economy and social fabric without risking a single soldier’s life.
Another conflict that the United States will exploit for its own leverage through its agent rulers in both India and Pakistan, especially with Trump already boasting of his good relations with both sides.
The Political Playbook: Calculated Escalation, Limited Conflict
Blaming Pakistan for attacks in Kashmir has long been a tested political tactic for Indian governments. From the 2001 Indian Parliament attack to the 2016 Uri base assault, every crisis has allowed New Delhi to consolidate political support, justify hardline policies, and rally nationalist sentiment.
This latest incident fits that pattern neatly. Modi’s government understands the limits of its military readiness and is unlikely to pursue a full-fledged war — but surgical airstrikes, covert raids, and economic-diplomatic coercion (such as the weaponisation of water) allow India to maintain the illusion of decisive action while avoiding a drawn-out conflict that could embarrass it militarily.
At the same time, Pakistan’s rulers — for all their thunderous rhetoric — remain committed to an even more cynical calculus: normalisation with India at almost any cost, to avoid collapse at home.
The Calm Before the Implosion
The current crisis lays bare an uncomfortable truth: while India’s military is nowhere near as invincible as its leaders pretend, Pakistan’s leadership is too consumed by internal weakness to exploit the opportunity.
Asim Munir’s grand speeches cannot disguise the fact that Pakistan is teetering economically, socially, and politically. Confrontation with India — especially with the looming threat of water strangulation — could tip the country into unmanageable chaos.
Far from being a sign of strategic calculation, Pakistan’s restraint instead reveals a deeper malaise: a leadership paralysed by a lack of political will, vision, and direction. Rather than a necessary tactic, the decision to hold back reflects a failure of imagination and resolve, with Pakistan’s rulers more focused on survival and domestic power struggles than on asserting the country’s broader strategic interests and citizen security.
But if India were to truly weaponise water, the consequences for Pakistan would be not just political defeat — but national disintegration.