Sunday, July 5, 2026

A Renewed Call for India–Pakistan Dialogue: A Peace Initiative or Something More?

 

A Renewed Call for India–Pakistan Dialogue: A Peace Initiative or Something More?

— Shiv Prakash Mishra, Senior Columnist

Peace is a beautiful word—so beautiful, in fact, that questions raised in its name often begin to seem uncomfortable. Who would want two neighbouring countries to remain trapped in perpetual tension? Who wants war? Who would not wish for guns to fall silent along the borders, trade to flourish, people to meet freely, and future generations to live without fear?

But international politics does not run on beautiful words alone. Goodwill must be accompanied by memory, ideals by experience, and the desire for peace by a clear understanding of national interest. This is especially true when the neighbour in question is Pakistan, a country whose history of relations with India is marked as much by negotiations as by wars, betrayals and blood-soaked chapters of cross-border terrorism.

It is against this backdrop that an open letter written by 61 prominent Indian citizens and 56 Pakistani citizens to the prime ministers of the two countries—Narendra Modi and Shehbaz Sharif—assumes significance. The letter calls for the restoration of full diplomatic relations, the return of high commissioners, the resumption of normal visa services, the reopening of trade and transport links, the revival of comprehensive bilateral dialogue, and discussions on contentious issues, including Jammu and Kashmir.

Among the Indian signatories are reported to be prominent names such as Dr Farooq Abdullah, Mehbooba Mufti, Mirwaiz Umar Farooq, Mani Shankar Aiyar, Prof Manoj Jha and former Research and Analysis Wing chief A. S. Dulat.

In a democracy, every citizen has the right to appeal for peace. It would neither be fair nor necessary to question the motives of every individual who has signed the letter. Yet any political or diplomatic initiative must be evaluated not merely by the words it contains, but also by its timing, context and possible consequences.

The first question, therefore, is obvious: Why has this appeal come at this particular moment?

Is it merely a coincidence that Pakistan is currently attempting to create an international environment favourable to the revival of the Indus Waters Treaty; that, at almost the same time, calls are being made for the normalisation of India–Pakistan relations; and that certain political forces within India also appear to be seeking a new narrative around the government’s Pakistan policy?

No conclusive evidence of direct Pakistani sponsorship of this letter has emerged in the public domain. It would therefore be inappropriate to describe it outright as a Pakistani conspiracy. Nevertheless, the apparent convergence between the letter’s timing, its demands and Pakistan’s present strategic requirements certainly raises serious questions.

Why Talk of Normal Relations So Soon After Pahalgam?

On April 22, 2025, 26 innocent people were killed in the terrorist attack at Pahalgam. The victims included 25 Indians and one Nepali citizen. The attack shocked the entire nation. India subsequently launched Operation Sindoor against terrorist infrastructure based in Pakistan and took several significant diplomatic measures. Among the most far-reaching of these was the decision to place the 1960 Indus Waters Treaty in abeyance.

India’s declared position is clear: the treaty will remain in abeyance until Pakistan credibly and irrevocably ends its support for cross-border terrorism.

It is precisely here that the timing of the present appeal for dialogue becomes important.

India is being asked to restore high commissioners, normalise visa arrangements, reopen trade links, resume bus services and return to the table for comprehensive dialogue. But is Pakistan being asked with equal clarity and determination to dismantle terrorist infrastructure, end financial and institutional support to terrorist organisations and permanently abandon its strategy of proxy war against India?

A call for peace becomes credible only when it possesses the moral courage to distinguish between the victim and the aggressor.

Pahalgam was not an isolated incident. India has endured the 1993 Mumbai serial bombings, the attack on Parliament, the Mumbai train bombings, 26/11, Pathankot, Uri and Pulwama, among many other acts of terrorism. Thousands of families have paid the price.

If, after every major terrorist attack, India alone is expected to demonstrate restraint, resume dialogue and restore normal relations, what message does that send to Pakistan’s security establishment? Does it not create the impression that terrorist attacks can be carried out, tensions allowed to simmer for a while, and then pressure for dialogue rebuilt through civil society groups, international institutions and peace initiatives?

India needs to confront this question seriously.

Water Anxiety and the New Call for Peace

The current developments in India–Pakistan relations cannot be viewed separately from the Indus Waters Treaty.

Signed in 1960, the treaty has long been described as one of the world’s successful water-sharing arrangements. Its critics in India, however, have consistently questioned whether the agreement was excessively generous to Pakistan at the expense of India’s own interests.

Wars were fought, borders were bloodied, diplomatic relations were suspended and India suffered repeated terrorist attacks—yet the waters of the Indus system continued to flow under the treaty framework.

After Pahalgam, India drew a new strategic line. The message was clear: cooperation and terrorism cannot continue indefinitely side by side.

That is Pakistan’s principal concern.

Pakistan’s agriculture, food security and rural economy are heavily dependent on the Indus river system. The treaty is therefore not merely a diplomatic document for Pakistan; it is a matter of economic and strategic security.

On June 30, 2026, an international seminar on the Indus Waters Treaty was organised in Islamabad, attended by local and foreign experts in water management and international law. Senior Pakistani leaders used the platform to present their case against India’s policy. Pakistan accused India of “weaponising water,” while India’s argument is fundamentally different: how can a country that continues to support cross-border terrorism indefinitely claim the benefits of an arrangement based on goodwill and cooperation?

Pakistan now appears to be attempting to transform the Indus waters issue from a purely bilateral dispute into an international legal, humanitarian and environmental debate. Following the Islamabad seminar, discussions have also emerged about further rounds of expert deliberations abroad. There are reports of a proposed event in Colombo as well, although independent official confirmation is still awaited.

If such a sequence of activities continues, these events should not be viewed merely as isolated academic conferences. They must also be examined in the context of a broader diplomatic campaign.

Pakistan’s possible objective is not difficult to understand: internationalise the Indus waters issue, portray India as an uncompromising and uncooperative party, and create an environment in which domestic and international pressure grows on New Delhi to restore the earlier treaty arrangement.

This is where the timing of the letter signed by 117 prominent citizens becomes relevant.

If India and Pakistan normalise relations, begin comprehensive dialogue and create an atmosphere of renewed peace, the next question may naturally be: if the two countries are talking again, why should the Indus Waters Treaty remain in abeyance?

Is the timing of these two processes merely coincidental?

A definitive answer may not yet be possible, but the question certainly deserves to be asked.

The Negotiating Table and the Gun of Terror

The history of India–Pakistan relations teaches a difficult lesson: in Pakistan’s case, dialogue and violence have not always been alternatives. On several occasions, they have proceeded simultaneously.

In February 1999, Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee travelled to Lahore by bus. It was hailed as the beginning of a new era of peace in South Asia. The Lahore Declaration was signed and confidence-building measures were discussed. Within months, however, the Kargil conflict erupted.

This was not merely an irony of history. It demonstrated the enduring contradiction within Pakistan’s power structure: an elected government may speak of peace while the military simultaneously prepares for conflict.

India nevertheless continued its efforts. Ceasefires were negotiated, composite dialogue was pursued and attempts were made to increase people-to-people contact. Then came the terrorist attacks of November 26, 2008. Mumbai was held under the shadow of terror for three days and 166 people were killed.

In December 2015, Prime Minister Narendra Modi made an unexpected visit to Lahore and met then Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif. It was described as a bold act of personal diplomacy in pursuit of peace. Within days came the terrorist attack on the Pathankot Air Force Station. Then came Uri, Pulwama and, eventually, Pahalgam.

This historical sequence raises a fundamental question: Is the real problem the absence of dialogue, or does it lie within a Pakistani security structure that has repeatedly used anti-India terrorist organisations as instruments of strategy?

If the diagnosis of the disease is wrong, how can the treatment possibly be right?

A section of India’s intellectual class has long argued that because India is the larger country, it must show a larger heart. But national security is not an exercise in emotional generosity. Being a large country does not mean forgetting the murder of one’s citizens. Being a democracy does not require tolerating terrorism. A desire for peace is not surrender, and dialogue does not require the erasure of historical memory.

India has tried almost every experiment: prime ministerial visits, cricket diplomacy, bus and rail services, trade, easier visas and cultural exchanges. Yet the central question has remained unchanged: to what extent are agreements made with Pakistan’s civilian government accepted by its military, intelligence establishment and extremist organisations?

The question today, therefore, is not whether dialogue is good or bad. The real question is: On what terms will dialogue take place?

The Changing Face of Proxy War

Pakistan’s strategy against India cannot be understood merely through the exchange of fire along the border.

After the 1971 war, Pakistan’s military leadership was confronted with the reality that defeating India decisively in a conventional war would be extremely difficult. Thereafter, proxy warfare, terrorist organisations, radical networks, counterfeit currency, narcotics and activities aimed at creating social instability assumed greater strategic importance.

Today, hybrid warfare has acquired an even wider scope. Social-media narratives, cyberattacks, fake news, content designed to intensify communal tensions, support for separatist tendencies and campaigns to damage an adversary’s reputation on international platforms are also instruments of modern conflict.

India must therefore look beyond the number of bullets fired at the border. It must also examine where and how attempts are being made to weaken its social fabric.

India’s greatest strength lies in its internal unity. Indian Muslims are equal citizens of this country. No foreign power has the right to interfere in India’s domestic politics in their name or use them as geopolitical instruments.

The concerns of Muslim citizens regarding education, employment, security and development must be addressed within the framework of India’s Constitution and democratic institutions. But linking the Pakistan question with the votes of Indian Muslims, or transforming India–Pakistan relations into a communal electoral issue, would not serve the national interest.

Is There a Domestic Political Dimension to This Narrative?

This question, too, cannot simply be avoided.

At the national level, the opposition faces the challenge of constructing an effective alternative political narrative against the government. At the same time, the organisational and electoral expansion of the Bharatiya Janata Party has continued to give it a significant political advantage.

Amid instability in West Asia, concerns over energy supplies, fluctuations in oil prices and global trade tensions, there were fears that the Indian economy could come under severe pressure. Yet in the financial year 2025–26, real GDP growth stood at 7.7 per cent.

This does not mean that challenges relating to employment, agricultural incomes, private investment, income inequality and global economic risks have disappeared. But the broad economic crisis that had been feared has not, so far, materialised in that form.

In such circumstances, a question arises: could India–Pakistan relations, anti-war sentiment, peace dialogue and narratives of minority insecurity be developed into a wider political discourse for forthcoming elections?

The question is particularly relevant because assembly elections are due in Uttar Pradesh and several other states in 2027. With 80 Lok Sabha seats, Uttar Pradesh plays a central role in determining the direction of power in New Delhi. In that sense, the 2027 Assembly election could also be viewed as a political semi-final for the 2029 general election.

Caste coalitions and the consolidation of Muslim votes have long been important factors in Uttar Pradesh politics. If the opposition is unable to make a decisive breakthrough among a substantial section of Hindu voters, the maximum consolidation of Muslim votes, combined with selected caste alliances, could emerge as a possible electoral strategy.

In that situation, will the question of India–Pakistan dialogue remain confined to foreign policy? Or could attempts be made to connect it with domestic political narratives such as “peace versus war,” “majoritarianism versus secularism,” and “minority insecurity”?

There is no conclusive evidence establishing such a strategy. It should therefore be treated as a political possibility, not as an established fact. Yet in politics, the timing of a narrative and its potential electoral use must always be examined.

Peace—But at What Price?

The letter signed by 117 citizens must ultimately be tested against one fundamental standard.

If peace is being demanded, why is there not an equally explicit demand on terrorism? Why should Pakistan not be asked to take verifiable action against terrorist organisations, dismantle terrorist infrastructure, end terror financing and recruitment networks, punish the conspirators behind the Mumbai attacks, and ensure that its territory is never again used for terrorism against India?

If a peace initiative demands concrete concessions from India but expects only goodwill from Pakistan, how can it be described as balanced?

Peace cannot be a one-sided responsibility.

Under present circumstances, Pakistan appears to need three things: strategic relief, restoration of the Indus Waters Treaty, and international sympathy.

India’s changed security doctrine has signalled that terrorist attacks will carry a higher cost. Pakistan would naturally prefer a situation in which tensions ease and India returns to the older dialogue framework.

For Pakistan, the Indus Waters Treaty is a question of economic and food security. That is why international conferences, legal arguments, foreign experts and the narrative of the “weaponisation of water” assume significance.

A third possible objective is to shift international attention away from terrorism and towards themes such as “peace between two nuclear powers” and “water security.”

Under such circumstances, a renewed demand for India–Pakistan dialogue is naturally advantageous to Pakistan.

This does not mean that every signatory to the letter is part of a Pakistani strategy. Many of them may genuinely believe in peace. But in politics, the intention behind an action and its strategic consequence are not always identical. An initiative may be born of sincere intentions and yet benefit another power.

The question, therefore, is not one of individual patriotism. It is about the strategic consequences of the proposal.

India need not fear dialogue. Its civilisational confidence and democratic character make it a natural advocate of peace. But dialogue and strategic amnesia are not the same thing.

Dialogue can take place—but not at the cost of ignoring terrorism.

Humanitarian contacts can continue—but not by pretending that terrorist infrastructure does not exist.

Trade can be considered—but not at the expense of national security.

Technical discussions on water may also take place—but not by denying the relationship between terrorism and cooperation.

India has extended the hand of friendship many times. From Lahore to Agra, from cricket diplomacy to trade links, from bus services to prime ministerial initiatives, almost every possible path has been explored.

The problem has never been that India refused to talk.

The problem has been that the Pakistan sitting across the negotiating table and the Pakistani security establishment waging proxy war against India have often not followed the same policy.

The choice before India today is therefore not simply between “war and peace.”

The real choice is between an honourable and verifiable peace, and an endless cycle in which every terrorist attack is followed by mourning, then tension, then international pressure, and finally a return to the same old dialogue without addressing the root cause.

If history has taught India anything, it is that this cycle must be broken.

Dialogue can certainly take place—but it must first be clear whether dialogue will become an alternative to terrorism or merely a curtain drawn over it.

India wants peace—but not at the price of forgetting.

India wants dialogue—but not under the shadow of terrorism.

India wants good relations with its neighbours—but not at the cost of its security and sovereignty.

And perhaps the most important question to be asked of the 117 signatories today is this:

You seek peace, and that is welcome. But have you spoken with equal clarity to the other side? Have you asked it to put down the gun, dismantle the factories of terror, and first prove that this dialogue will not merely be another pause before the next attack?

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