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The May 7, 2025 Indian strike on Pakistan, named Operation Sindoor, launched under Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s leadership, marked a dramatic escalation in South Asia’s most volatile rivalry. In retaliation for a deadly militant attack in Kashmir that killed 26 civilians, Modi authorized “Operation Sindoor” – a series of strikes on targets in Pakistan and Pakistan-controlled Kashmir. Pakistan has denounced these strikes as an “act of war,” vowed a forceful response, and claimed to have downed several Indian fighter jets. With both nations possessing nuclear arsenals, the crisis has raised urgent questions about escalation dynamics, decision-making, and strategic risks in the Modi era. Key findings of this brief include:
Narendra Modi’s authoritarian-populist approach has emboldened India’s response to provocation, recalibrating the risk tolerance in South Asia. This brief assesses how Modi’s style influences each facet of the crisis – from immediate military retaliation to the perilous prospect of nuclear escalation – and examines the implications for regional stability and global security.
On April 22, 2025, militants opened fire on a group of tourists in Pahalgam, a popular destination in Indian-administered Kashmir, killing 26 people (25 Indian nationals and 1 Nepalese). It was the deadliest attack on civilians in Kashmir in over two decades. A little-known group calling itself The Resistance Front (TRF) – believed by Indian officials to be a front for the Pakistan-based Lashkar-e-Taiba (LeT) – claimed responsibility for the massacre. Indian intelligence quickly pointed to evidence of “cross-border linkages,” alleging that at least two of the attackers were Pakistani nationals. Within days, Prime Minister Modi’s government publicly blamed Pakistan’s security apparatus for orchestrating the assault, accusing its western neighbor of once again stoking terrorism on Indian soil.
Signaling an iron-fisted approach, New Delhi retaliated first with diplomatic and economic measures. On April 23–24, the government downgraded diplomatic ties with Pakistan and expelled several Pakistani officials. It unilaterally suspended the Indus Waters Treaty (IWT) – a 1960 water-sharing accord that had survived multiple wars – vowing the freeze would remain until Pakistan “credibly and irrevocably” ceased support for terrorism. This was a provocative step; India had come close to breaching the IWT during a 2019 crisis but ultimately held back. This time, Modi’s cabinet approved the move immediately, indicating a hard line unprecedented in scope. India also closed its main land border crossings and cancelled visa facilities, effectively severing people-to-people links. These actions amounted to a strategic throttling of bilateral relations and were accompanied by fierce rhetoric. Modi himself vowed in a public rally that India would pursue the perpetrators “to the ends of the earth” – a message delivered pointedly in English for global audience, underlining that New Delhi was prepared to take forceful action.
Pakistan’s immediate reaction was unsurprisingly defiant. Islamabad denied any role in the Pahalgam attack and dismissed India’s accusations as a “blame game,” demanding proof of Pakistani involvement. However, as India’s punitive steps mounted, Pakistan mirrored many of them. By April 24–25, Pakistan closed its airspace to Indian aircraft and suspended bilateral trade, effectively cutting off economic ties. Islamabad also threatened to withdraw from the 1972 Simla Agreement – the foundational pact obligating both sides to resolve disputes peacefully – raising concerns that the diplomatic framework for dialogue was crumbling. Most alarmingly, Pakistani officials warned that India’s Indus treaty suspension was an “act of war” and that Pakistan was prepared to respond “with full force across the complete spectrum of national power.” In other words, Pakistan signaled willingness to escalate militarily if its vital water interests were threatened – a thinly veiled reference to its nuclear options given that water security is existential for the country.
Over the next two weeks, tensions simmered with sporadic incidents. Cross-border firing was reported at multiple sectors along the Line of Control (LoC) in Kashmir. Both air forces were conducting intensified combat air patrols near the border Each side captured an errant soldier from the other (a sign of how taut the situation had become). By the end of April, Pakistan’s defense minister warned that an Indian attack seemed “imminent” and that the “next two to four days” would be critical. Sure enough, in the early hours of May 7, 2025, India launched a coordinated series of precision strikes on Pakistani territory. Codenamed “Operation Sindoor,” the strikes targeted what India described as “nine sites of terrorist infrastructure” across the border. Notably, these targets were not confined to Pakistan-administered Kashmir (as was the case in past reprisals), but included locations deep in Pakistan’s Punjab and even Sindh provinces – marking a significant escalation in reach. According to Indian security sources, the operation involved stand-off missile strikes to minimize risk to Indian personnel. One Indian strike hit a facility near Muridke in Punjab, a town infamous as the headquarters of Lashkar-e-Taiba. Another missile struck a site in Kotli (Pakistan-held Kashmir), while yet another hit a mosque in the city of Bahawalpur, Punjab. The inclusion of Bahawalpur – far from the Kashmir theatre – was symbolically significant; Bahawalpur is a stronghold of Jaish-e-Mohammed, another militant group long accused of terrorism against India.
India’s Ministry of Defense asserted that these strikes were “swift, surgical, and unapologetically assertive” – aimed solely at terrorist camps and infrastructure, not Pakistani civilians or military. Initial Indian briefings claimed heavy damage to militant facilities and “scores” of terrorist casualties. (Unofficial media reports in India boasted that up to 70 terrorists were neutralized, though such figures remain unverified.) Pakistan, however, painted a very different picture of the outcome.
Pakistan’s Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif condemned the Indian action as “cowardly attacks” on Pakistani soil and convened an emergency meeting of the National Security Committee. Pakistani officials declared they had “every right to respond forcefully to this act of war” and indeed that a “forceful response is being given.” Within hours, residents on the Indian side of the border reported intense Pakistani artillery shelling; at least three Indian civilians were killed and several injured by cross-border fire in Kupwara district. The Pakistani military, via the Inter-Services Public Relations (ISPR) wing, claimed that Indian missiles had struck civilian areas, killing at least 26 Pakistani citizens and injuring dozens. According to Pakistan’s account, multiple mosques and residential areas in Bahawalpur, Muzaffarabad (the capital of Pakistani Kashmir), and Kotli were hit, resulting in women and children among the dead. Gruesome details were publicized – including that a strike on the Bilal Mosque near Muzaffarabad killed worshipers in prayer – to galvanize public outrage.
Pakistan also swiftly engaged militarily. The Pakistan Air Force (PAF) scrambled fighters to challenge Indian aircraft. In the ensuing engagements, Pakistan claims to have shot down five Indian fighter jets and a drone that violated its airspace. The Pakistani military specified that it downed advanced Indian planes – including three Rafale jets and a Sukhoi – over various locations in Indian territory (Punjab, Jammu, and Kashmir) as they were returning from the mission. India has neither confirmed nor fully refuted these specific loss claims, but independent verification is lacking and Indian officials privately dismiss them as exaggerations. It is clear, however, that aerial combat did occur, marking the first direct India-Pakistan air clash since their skirmish in February 2019. By daylight on May 7, both nations’ militaries were on high alert, with Pakistan’s armed forces reportedly moving units towards the border and India’s forces bracing for retaliation.
International reaction in the immediate aftermath was one of deep alarm. World powers, including the United States and China, appealed for restraint (with China characterizing India’s strikes as destabilizing, and the U.S. urging both sides to avoid further military action, according to diplomatic sources). There were unconfirmed reports that behind the scenes, Washington and other capitals were already engaged in frantic hotline diplomacy to defuse the crisis, cognizant of how quickly events were unfolding. Domestically in India, initial public reaction was triumphant. News of Operation Sindoor dominated Indian media on May 7, with many outlets lauding the Modi government for its decisive response. Nationalist sentiment surged on social media and television, and even opposition parties offered cautious support for the counter-terror operation (while urging the government to ensure things do not spiral into full-scale war). In Pakistan, by contrast, anger and nationalist fervor also spiked – thousands took to the streets in protest, and the downing of Indian jets (as claimed by Pakistan’s military) was celebrated as a “befitting reply.” The stage is now set for a perilous standoff, with both leaderships under domestic pressure not to back down.
In sum, the May 2025 strike and its immediate aftermath have shattered the fragile peace and brought India and Pakistan to one of their most dangerous confrontations in recent history. The decisive role of Prime Minister Modi in authorizing and framing India’s actions is impossible to ignore. The following sections analyze how Modi’s leadership style – marked by authoritarian tendencies and populist politics – is influencing the trajectory of this crisis, from domestic mobilization to the razor’s edge of escalation.
Narendra Modi’s tenure as India’s prime minister (since 2014) has been marked by a steady democratic backslide and the consolidation of an increasingly authoritarian style of governance. While India remains a formal democracy with regular elections, observers note that under Modi the country is “maintaining the trappings of democracy while… harassing the opposition, attacking minorities, and stifling dissent.” This authoritarian drift has occurred in tandem with Modi’s adept use of populist strategy, especially Hindu nationalist rhetoric, to galvanize mass support. Both facets – authoritarianism and populism – directly affect how Modi handles crises like the current one, shaping his decision-making calculus and escalation tendencies.
Modi has systematically concentrated power in the Prime Minister’s Office, sidelining many institutional checks and balances. Key national security decisions are tightly controlled by Modi and his inner circle (for instance, National Security Advisor Ajit Doval and Home Minister Amit Shah), often with minimal consultation beyond a small coterie of loyalists. The Cabinet Committee on Security, India’s apex body for security decisions, largely rubber-stamps decisions driven by Modi’s PMO in practice. Dissenting voices within the government or military are rarely aired openly, as a climate of fear and conformity has taken hold. Civil servants and military officers understand that Modi values decisive action and loyalty; this likely deters candid contrarian advice during crises. In the lead-up to Operation Sindoor, Modi convened the security council multiple times but notably, the narrative is that he gave the orders – e.g., granting “complete freedom” to the armed forces – rather than receiving varied options from them. This top-down approach can expedite action (as seen in the swift planning of the May 7 strike), but it also means decisions rest on the judgment of a very limited group, heightening the risk of groupthink or oversight of worst-case scenarios.
Modi’s authoritarian bent is also evident in his suppression of dissent and media control. Over the past years, the government and its allies have muzzled critical media through intimidation or co-option. In times of national security crisis, this means domestic media overwhelmingly echo the government’s narrative, leaving the public and policymakers without independent scrutiny. For example, in the current crisis, Indian media has almost unanimously cheered Modi’s aggressive stance and downplayed the risks, partly a result of nationalist fervor but also of a media environment shaped by state influence. Opposition parties find little space to question the government’s actions on security matters; doing so risks being branded “anti-national.” Thus, Modi’s authoritarian style stifles debate that might otherwise urge caution or alternative strategies. This is important in escalation dynamics: when a leader faces no significant domestic pushback for hawkish policies – indeed only encouragement – there is a greater likelihood of him pressing forward aggressively.
It’s also notable that Modi’s governance has blurred the lines between state and party to an unprecedented degree. Institutions that should be neutral (law enforcement, investigative agencies, even elements of the judiciary) have often been used to target political rivals or dissenters. In the context of Indo-Pak tensions, this domestic consolidation means Modi can single-mindedly pursue confrontational policies without worrying about institutional revolt or leaks that could undermine the official line. The near-absolute alignment of the ruling party narrative and the state narrative (amplified by the formidable BJP social media machinery) creates an echo chamber validating Modi’s choices. In essence, Modi’s India speaks with one voice in crises – his voice. This was seen clearly when the entire government and media establishment fell in line to justify the Indus Treaty suspension and subsequent strikes as necessary and nation-affirming moves. An authoritarian system thus reinforces the escalation loop: once the leader decides on a hardline course, the whole state apparatus swings in behind it, making climb-downs or nuanced adjustments politically harder.
Equally influential is Modi’s brand of populist politics, rooted in Hindu nationalism and the portrayal of himself as the charismatic protector of the nation. Modi has cultivated an image as a 56-inch-chested strongman (a term often used by his supporters) who will keep India secure and assert its pride. This populist ethos means he is exceptionally responsive to public sentiment, especially on issues of national honor and security. After the Kashmir tourist massacre, public outrage in India was palpable – amplified by social media and television coverage that highlighted the brutality of the attack (for instance, reports that the gunmen singled out non-Muslim victims, fueling a communal narrative). Modi’s core base as well as a broad section of the Indian populace demanded revenge and justice. As a populist leader attuned to the “voice of the people,” Modi was unlikely to adopt a restrained approach. Instead, he mirrored and magnified the public’s anger, framing the crisis as a battle of “India’s spirit” versus terrorism. Populism in this context incentivizes dramatic action – something tangible that can be sold as a victory to the masses.
Modi’s speeches and messaging during the crisis exemplify this. In Bihar on April 24, switching to English for effect, he declared terrorism will “not go unpunished,” implicitly promising a forthcoming strike. Such rhetoric both prepares the public for warlike actions and binds Modi to following through, lest he appear weak or vacillating – a fatal image for a populist strongman. Moreover, Modi’s nationalism is often entwined with a majoritarian narrative that pits a resolute Hindu India against inimical forces, frequently aligned (in rhetoric) with Pakistan or Islamist militants. This framing can harden attitudes: peace or compromise with Pakistan is seen not just as strategic prudence by moderates, but as appeasement or betrayal by Modi’s nationalist base. Thus, Modi’s own political ideology limits his flexibility; backing down or pursuing diplomacy at a heated moment could erode his carefully crafted image. The populist playbook prizes symbolic victories and confrontation with perceived enemies, which in governance translates to risk-taking in conflict situations.
Another populist aspect is Modi’s tendency to take credit personally for national successes (and by contrast, blame failures on others or externalize them). After India’s 2019 Balakot airstrike, Modi basked in the adulation and campaigned on the theme of “ghar me ghus ke maara” (we hit them in their home) to great effect. That episode likely reinforced his belief that controlled military escalation is not only manageable but politically rewarding. In 2025, Modi appears to be following a similar script, but on a larger scale. His calculated risk – striking multiple sites in Pakistan – aligns with a belief that he can personally triumph in the showdown, enhancing his stature. It’s a populist gamble: by delivering visible retribution, he satisfies popular demand and consolidates his domestic power, assuming he can avoid catastrophic consequences.
However, Modi’s authoritarian-populist mix also means accountability deficits. There are fewer independent voices to hold him accountable for missteps, and his government often dismisses critical questions as unpatriotic. For example, when opposition leaders in parliament asked for clarity on the objectives and exit-strategy post-strike, BJP ministers slammed the queries as “undermining our forces.” This climate makes it difficult to have a sober assessment of escalation risks within decision-making circles. A populist leader buoyed by hyper-nationalist fervor and unchecked by institutions is more prone to overestimating his position and underestimating the adversary – classic ingredients for miscalculation in a conflict.
In summary, Modi’s political profile is that of an elected autocrat with a mass following, whose instincts are to centralize authority and to harness popular nationalism. In the current crisis, this translates to a leader who was both willing and able to push the envelope (authoritarian autonomy enabled action, populist appeal demanded it). While this has yielded a show of strength that resonates with many Indians, it also sets the stage for a dangerously combustible situation. The very traits that make Modi politically dominant at home – the suppression of dissent and the invocation of fervent nationalism – are the traits that can exacerbate an international crisis. The next sections will explore how this profile influences specific dimensions like domestic war calculus, military strategy, and crisis escalation.
Domestic politics have always played a pivotal role in India-Pakistan crises, and under Modi this linkage is especially pronounced. The decision to strike Pakistan in May 2025 cannot be separated from Modi’s internal political calculus – a blend of electoral considerations, nationalist ideology, and the imperative to maintain public support. Modi’s BJP government stands to gain domestically from a tough stance, but that same domestic drumbeat can create an escalatory momentum that is hard to contain. This section examines how upcoming elections, public opinion, and mobilization of national resources factor into Modi’s approach to the brink of war.
Although India’s next national elections are a few years away (likely in 2029, given Modi won re-election in 2024), the country’s political landscape remains perennially election-focused due to frequent state elections. In 2025, several key state legislative elections (including possibly Bihar and Uttar Pradesh’s local polls) are on the horizon. Modi and the BJP are keenly aware that a rally-around-the-flag effect can translate into electoral gains. The precedent of 2019 looms large: following the Pulwama attack and Balakot strike, Modi’s approval ratings soared and the BJP secured a sweeping victory in the general elections, running heavily on a platform of national security and strong leadership. That episode demonstrated the electoral utility of a hard line on Pakistan. In 2025, even though Modi had already secured a third term, the BJP’s dominance relies on maintaining a narrative of a “New India” that is bold and assertive. With economic challenges and social issues (unemployment, inflation) creating some discontent, a confrontation with Pakistan serves to divert attention and unite the public under nationalist sentiment.
It is telling that Modi’s first public address after the Kashmir massacre was not a sombre nationally televised speech, but a rally in Bihar where he thundered about punishing terrorists. This indicates that he immediately translated the security crisis into a political message to shore up support. Similarly, BJP leaders and the party’s vast social media network have been relentlessly projecting the strikes as Modi’s personal achievement – a triumph of his decisive leadership – which implicitly contrasts with the opposition’s perceived weakness on national security. Domestically, then, Modi’s calculus sees political capital in escalation: demonstrating toughness is viewed as a vote-winner, whereas restraint could be painted by rivals (and perceived by an enraged public) as weakness or indecision. Even opposition parties, cognizant of public mood, have largely backed the government so as not to be seen as “anti-national.” This political unity against an external foe, ironically, further frees Modi from scrutiny and gives him latitude to escalate, since no mainstream political force is advocating de-escalation at this stage.
That said, domestic support is not a blank check – it is contingent on success or at least the perception of success. Modi needs to show that India’s strikes achieved something tangible (e.g. eliminated many terrorists, taught Pakistan a lesson) without leading to a disastrous war that could harm Indians. If the crisis drags on or results in high Indian military casualties, public opinion could become more divided. But in the immediate term, the Indian public and media are in a patriotic fervor, enabling Modi to double down.
Indian nationalism has surged to a fever pitch in the wake of the Pahalgam killings and the subsequent conflict. This nationalism is not just a spontaneous sentiment; it has been actively cultivated by the state and ruling party. The BJP’s ideological parent, the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS), and its affiliates have been organizing pro-government rallies and prayer meetings for the slain victims, whipping up public anger at Pakistan. Notably, RSS chief Mohan Bhagwat was seen visiting Modi’s residence during deliberations, underscoring how the ruling establishment consults with nationalist ideologues in times of crisis – effectively synchronizing the party line and the battle line.
Media coverage has been heavily jingoistic. Television news, in particular, has broadcast graphics of bomb explosions and patriotic songs, giving the populace a sense that the country is already at war (in a controlled way) and must see it through. Social media in India is dominated by calls for even harsher punishment of Pakistan – trending hashtags have included calls to “#TeachLessonToPak” and “#IndiaStrikesBack”. This public climate actually serves as a form of pressure on Modi: having positioned himself as the embodiment of the popular will, he is expected to fulfill the maximalist demands of that will. A populist leader can become captive to the very fervor he incites. For instance, after the strikes, Indian Twitter and TV discussions quickly moved to debating whether India should “finish the job” by hitting more targets or supporting Baloch separatists in Pakistan. Such discourse narrows the domestic space for moderation; any suggestion of restraint could be met with public scorn or claims of betrayal to the martyred victims.
Modi’s team, aware of this, has carefully managed information. The government has shared dramatic but controlled details of Operation Sindoor (e.g. releasing satellite images of target sites before and after, claiming many terrorists killed) to satisfy public hunger for retribution while also downplaying Indian losses to maintain morale. The claim by Pakistan of shooting down five jets, for example, has been largely dismissed in Indian news as propaganda, and the government has not acknowledged any jets lost – in part to keep public confidence high and avoid any dent in the image of an Indian victory. Modi’s government has also leveraged the narrative of existential threat: portraying the conflict as not just retaliation but a necessary fight to defend India’s unity and citizens from Pakistan-backed terror. This narrative boosts nationalistic resolve and paints the conflict in stark moral terms (good vs. evil), which can prolong public tolerance for conflict if framed as righteous.
On the home front, the Modi government has initiated an unprecedented level of civil preparedness, which underscores both how seriously it takes the crisis and how it is willing to galvanize the nation for a potential wider war. On May 5, the Home Ministry ordered civil defense drills across seven states – air raid sirens, blackout exercises, and evacuation rehearsals – measures not seen since the 1971 India-Pakistan war. This indicates that Modi’s administration is not assuming the crisis will necessarily remain limited; it is bracing the population for the possibility of Pakistani retaliation on Indian soil (for instance, air or missile strikes on Indian cities). The imagery of citizens participating in blackout drills, and local authorities dusting off bomb shelter plans, has a twofold domestic effect: practically, it enhances readiness and potentially saves lives if war breaks out; psychologically, it unites the public in a wartime mindset and conveys that the government is doing everything to protect them. For Modi, showcasing such readiness further cements the perception of strong leadership.
Mobilization extends to the military, of course, but it’s notable that numerous reports suggest India’s military was preparing for a range of contingencies (moving some units forward, stockpiling ammunition, etc.) even as diplomats briefed foreign envoys. These preparations were publicized in Indian media as a show of strength – images of tanks on trains heading towards the border, or fighter squadrons on high alert, have circulated widely. This controlled reveal of military readiness serves to both deter Pakistan and reassure the Indian public. It tells ordinary Indians: we are ready and we will keep you safe. In effect, Modi has mobilized not only the troops but the entire nation’s psyche for confrontation.
Such national mobilization is not without risks. The longer forces stay mobilized and the public remains at a high pitch of expectation, the harder it becomes for leaders to step back without “using” that readiness. It creates a pressure to act because inaction or de-escalation could be perceived as anticlimax or backing down. Modi’s domestic calculus must weigh this: he has revved up the engine of nationalism and war-preparedness, which can take on a life of its own. If Pakistan’s response is modest or covert, Modi might restrain from further strikes and gradually ease the situation, spinning the initial operation as a success that achieved its goals. But if Pakistan hits back conspicuously (say, a bold terror attack or a strike on Indian military assets), domestic clamor will demand that India escalate in turn. The domestic environment Modi has fostered would view a lack of further response as weakness.
In short, nationalism is a double-edged sword – it fortifies a country’s resolve but can also corner its decision-makers. In Modi’s case, his and BJP’s long cultivation of a muscular nationalism means there is likely near-unanimous public backing for even risky military steps at the moment. The political cost for him of not acting (or of acting timidly) is thus higher than the cost of acting. This heavily influences escalation dynamics: Modi is domestically incentivized to push the limits and see this crisis through to a point where he can declare victory. The personal investment of his image and the public’s identification of the campaign with Modi himself (indeed “Modi vs Pakistan” is a framing some supporters use) means the stakes are not just strategic but political-personal.
Another domestic factor is India’s capacity to sustain a military campaign. Under Modi, India has maintained a healthy pace of defense spending increases and war-gamed two-front scenarios (against Pakistan and China). The government in recent years undertook emergency procurement of ammunition and spares to ensure forces can fight for at least 10-15 days of intense war without running short (a lesson from past skirmishes). Coming into this crisis, India’s economic situation is stable enough to endure a short conflict, and Modi’s economic advisors have likely readied contingency plans to stabilize markets if conflict worsens. Domestically, there has been hardly any panic in markets or among the public regarding economy – partly because the government has projected confidence that the situation is under control and will be short-lived. This confidence can be self-fulfilling to an extent, but if conflict lengthens, economic costs (oil prices, investor flight, etc.) could bite. For now, Modi’s domestic approach banks on a short, victorious campaign that avoids severe economic or human costs – keeping the political rewards high and costs manageable.
In conclusion, Modi’s domestic calculus in this crisis is shaped by strong nationalist politics and near-term political incentives that favor an aggressive stance. National unity is at a high, opposition is muted, and the government is actively fanning patriotic sentiment and preparedness. This “total mobilization” of society provides Modi with a robust mandate to act tough. However, it also ties his hands, making moderation more difficult if the situation turns volatile. The interplay of domestic nationalism with the crisis can easily fuel escalation – an important risk to monitor as events unfold. Next, we examine how Modi’s leadership has influenced India’s military posture and strategic culture, which in turn affects how such crises are fought.
Narendra Modi’s tenure has overseen a notable shift in India’s strategic culture – from one traditionally characterized by restraint and reactive posturing to one of greater proactive assertiveness. This transformation has been both rhetorical and substantive. Modi’s leadership has encouraged the Indian security establishment to adopt risk-embracing strategies, including cross-border strikes and doctrinal innovations, to deter Pakistan’s proxy warfare. In this section, we analyze how India’s military posture and strategic policies under Modi have evolved and how they set the stage for actions like the May 2025 strikes.
A hallmark of Modi’s strategic shift has been the normalization of cross-LoC and cross-border operations to punish Pakistan-based militants. Prior to Modi, despite numerous provocations (like the 2008 Mumbai attacks), India largely refrained from direct strikes across the Pakistani border, constrained by fears of uncontrolled escalation. Modi shattered that paradigm first in 2016 after a militant attack on an Indian Army camp in Uri. He ordered “surgical strikes” by special forces across the Line of Control in Pakistan-administered Kashmir, targeting terror launch pads. This operation, though relatively limited, was trumpeted domestically and signaled that India would no longer passively absorb attacks. In 2019, following the Pulwama suicide bombing, Modi escalated further by sending Air Force jets to bomb a Jaish-e-Mohammed camp deep inside Pakistani territory at Balakot. That was the first use of air power across the international boundary since 1971. Although that strike caused no reported Pakistani casualties, it established a precedent. Modi framed it as India’s new policy: “We will hit you in your backyard if you harm us.”
Over time, this approach has become embedded as a part of India’s strategic culture under Modi – a doctrine of disproportionate retaliation or “quid pro quo plus.” The idea is to strike back at Pakistan in a manner and location of India’s choosing, ideally catching Pakistan off-guard and delivering a punitive blow, but calibrated to avoid forcing Pakistan into total war. This is inherently a delicate balancing act, but Modi’s confidence in India’s conventional superiority and his willingness to bear risk have pushed the military to operationalize such options. Indeed, the May 2025 Operation Sindoor can be seen as the largest manifestation yet of this policy: missile strikes on multiple targets across Pakistan represent a significant broadening of the concept from 2016’s localized raids. By targeting sites in Pakistan’s heartland (Punjab province), the Indian military under Modi is displaying escalation dominance – signaling it can expand the conflict horizontally (to different geographic areas) at will. This aligns with a more aggressive military posture fostered by Modi’s government.
Under Modi, India has accelerated military modernization and procurement, aiming to redress critical capability gaps vis-à-vis both Pakistan and China. Big-ticket inductions like the French Rafale fighters, new air defense systems (e.g., the Russian S-400), and offensive platforms such as the BrahMos supersonic cruise missiles have enhanced India’s ability to carry out precise strikes and defend its airspace. The availability of high-precision standoff weapons (like the air-launched BrahMos or Israeli Spice-guided bombs) likely influenced the choice of using missile strikes in this operation, minimizing pilot exposure while achieving deep penetration. It’s plausible that some of these strikes were carried out by India’s ground-launched Prahaar or BrahMos missiles from within Indian territory. The confidence to engage multiple targets in one night also stems from improved intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance (ISR) capabilities. In recent years, Indian intelligence has invested heavily in satellite imagery and drones over Pakistan, meaning targets like militant safe houses or training camps are more precisely mapped than before. By the time of this crisis, the military had likely pre-selected target banks for just such a contingency, as indicated by how quickly nine sites were struck after the final go-ahead.
Modi has also pushed certain structural reforms aimed at enhancing jointness and quick decision cycles. The creation of a Chief of Defence Staff (CDS) post (in 2019) and the move toward integrated theater commands (still ongoing) were intended to synergize the Army, Navy, and Air Force for swift combined operations. In the present crisis, we see coordination: for example, the Indian Army and Air Force jointly planned responses, with ground troops on LoC alert to defend against incursions while the Air Force and possibly Navy’s missile units executed strikes. The Cabinet Committee on Security (CCS) meetings in late April reportedly included the CDS and service chiefs, indicating a unified approach. Modi’s style, however, ensures that while military input is considered, the final call is very much centralized. He has shown a pattern of giving broad directives (“free hand”) and trusting the forces to work out details – a stance evident in 2016, 2019, and now 2025. This can boost military morale and initiative, but also means military planners must second-guess the political limits (e.g., they likely asked themselves: Will hitting a target in mainland Pakistan be politically acceptable? Under Modi, the answer was yes, where earlier leaders might have demurred).
While India’s official nuclear doctrine under Modi remains No First Use (NFU), there have been subtle signals of a more ambiguous stance. In 2019, Defense Minister Rajnath Singh hinted that India’s commitment to NFU could “depend on future circumstances.” This was widely interpreted as a message that India might reconsider NFU if provoked strongly. Modi’s government has not formally changed doctrine, but Pakistan can no longer be 100% certain that India wouldn’t resort to preemptive nuclear use in an extreme scenario (for instance, if India believed Pakistan was about to use nuclear weapons). Conversely, Modi might calculate that Pakistan’s nuclear threshold remains high enough that India can conduct sizable conventional strikes without triggering a nuclear response, as long as Indian attacks stay confined to counter-terrorism and avoid threatening Pakistan’s state integrity or military viability. This calculation is reflected in target selection: hitting terrorist targets, not Pakistani military bases or major cities. By officially describing targets as “terrorist infrastructure,” India signals it is not attempting to cripple Pakistan’s military or seize territory – thereby aiming to stay below Pakistan’s perceived nuclear red lines.
However, the risk is inherent: Pakistan may not distinguish or may choose not to believe that only militants were targeted (especially if Pakistani civilians or infrastructure were harmed). Under Modi, India seems willing to test these boundaries. Strategic culture has shifted from a stance of overwhelming caution regarding the nuclear factor to a more confidence in managing nuclear risks through careful planning and international diplomacy. Indian strategists under Modi appear to assume that limited conventional strikes can be controlled and that nuclear war is avoidable if India’s intentions are limited and well signaled. This assumption was arguably validated in 2019 when the crisis stopped short of further escalation. Yet with each iteration (2016, 2019, 2025), India has incrementally escalated its action – meaning we are in uncharted territory now. The current operations striking Pakistani Punjab and beyond are without precedent, and thus, the safety margins assumed by India’s strategic planners are being tested anew.
Modi’s approach to security has been to use all instruments of national power in tandem. Unlike in the past where India might respond just militarily or just diplomatically, now the approach is multi-pronged: diplomatic isolation of Pakistan, economic sanctions (e.g. trade ban), legal warfare (possibly taking the Kashmir terror issue to international forums), and even hydro-politics (using the Indus Waters Treaty suspension as leverage). This comprehensive strategy is a departure from reactive policy. It demonstrates a doctrine of coercive diplomacy backed by force. India under Modi essentially seeks to impose costs on Pakistan on multiple fronts simultaneously – military pain through strikes, economic pain through cutting trade and potentially water flow changes, and diplomatic pain by rallying international opinion against Pakistani “terror sponsorship.” The coordination of these levers implies a higher level of strategic planning. For instance, the day after the strike, India dispatched envoys to brief key countries and justify its actions, illustrating that the military action was part of a broader strategy anticipated by Modi’s team.
Modi’s tenure has seen a closer alignment between civilian leadership and military brass on threat perception and responses, compared to some previous governments where there was a reputational gap (e.g., the political leadership in the 2000s was seen as more dovish than the Army at times). Modi’s nationalist worldview dovetails with that of many in the Indian military who have long advocated a firmer hand against Pakistan. This synergy means that during crises, there is less friction – the military trusts that Modi will back them and give them freedom, and Modi trusts the military to deliver results in line with his political objectives. A telling example is how, post-strike, Indian Army and Air Force sources confidently briefed the press about readiness and success. There wasn’t the kind of civil-military disconnect one might expect if, say, the military feared the politicians would hesitate. Modi has politically empowered the military in these situations (for better or worse), which contributes to a certain momentum once the decision to act is taken.
However, Modi also ensures civilian control by being intimately involved in key decisions and by setting the red lines. The presence of Home Minister Amit Shah (Modi’s closest confidante) and even RSS Chief Bhagwat in the loop of national security discussions shows Modi’s style of fusing party, ideological, and state apparatus in decision-making. The strategic culture under Modi is thus highly centralized at the top but also expansive in scope – blending military might with ideological resolve.
In sum, Modi’s India approaches confrontations with Pakistan with a new playbook: retaliate hard, retaliate in multiple domains, and do so with confidence in India’s growing power. The military posture is more aggressive, and past thresholds of action have been crossed with each major incident. This has likely created a degree of surprise and dilemma for Pakistan’s strategists. But it also means that the margin for error is thinner. The next section delves into how Modi’s signaling and diplomatic engagement internationally aim to control the narrative and prevent wider war even as he pushes limits.
Throughout this crisis, Prime Minister Modi and his government have been keenly aware of the international dimension – both in justifying India’s actions and in managing external pressures to avoid uncontrolled escalation. Modi’s leadership style in foreign affairs is characterized by energetic diplomacy when it serves India’s interests, and stubborn defiance if he perceives foreign criticism as infringing on India’s sovereignty or security. In the context of the May 2025 strikes, India’s signaling and diplomatic moves have been carefully calibrated. This section assesses how Modi’s government has communicated its intentions, engaged global powers, and interpreted international signals, all while trying to maintain the upper hand.
Right from the outset, Modi’s administration sought to frame India’s response as legitimate counter-terrorism, not aggression. This narrative is crucial to gain tacit acceptance (or at least neutrality) from major powers. In speeches and statements, Indian officials emphasized the attack on civilians in Pahalgam and Pakistan’s alleged role, laying out a case that India was forced to act in self-defense. Modi’s quote “India’s spirit will never be broken by terrorism… terrorism will not go unpunished,” delivered in English, was as much a message to the world as to India’s public. By speaking in English about punishing terrorists, Modi directly addressed the international community’s own commitment to combating terrorism, implicitly asking: If your citizens were massacred by cross-border terrorists, wouldn’t you act? This framing is designed to win sympathy and understanding. Indeed, after India’s strikes, the Indian External Affairs Ministry quickly briefed diplomats from the United States, Russia, China, Japan, and Europe, sharing evidence of Pakistani involvement in the Kashmir attack. By doing so, India tried to preempt Pakistani diplomatic counter-moves and mitigate criticism for violating Pakistani sovereignty.
Initial international responses suggest a nuanced backing of India’s stance against terror, combined with calls for restraint. For example, Washington’s reaction (per diplomatic sources) was to condemn the Kashmir terror attack and acknowledge India’s right to self-defense, while urging both sides to avoid further military escalation. This is similar to the U.S. position in 2019, when it notably did not reproach India for Balakot. The difference in 2025 is the scale of India’s strikes, which might worry even friendly nations more. Still, Modi’s cultivated relationships – he has personal rapport with many leaders due to active diplomacy (visiting dozens of countries, hosting high-profile summits) – give India some diplomatic capital. It is likely, for instance, that France (a strategic partner and supplier of Rafale jets) privately supported India’s anti-terror resolve and perhaps shared intelligence, while urging caution to protect its equipment operators. Israel, another close partner, might have quietly cheered India’s assertiveness given its own doctrine of preemptive strikes on terror threats aligns conceptually.
Modi’s government has also signaled through visible restraint in certain areas as a diplomatic message. One clear signal was that Indian strikes did not target Pakistan’s military installations or population centers beyond what was deemed necessary (e.g., hitting a mosque being used as a militant hideout can be presented as an unfortunate collateral event, not a deliberate targeting of civilians). By limiting targets to “terror camps,” India can tell the world it is not interested in Pakistani territory or regime change – only in preventing future terrorism. This theoretically leaves Pakistan’s pride somewhat intact and reassures other countries that India is not seeking a general war. The fact that India’s strikes were one-off (so far) and not a sustained bombing campaign is another signal: it implies a pause for Pakistan to digest and decide its next move rather than an outright act of war aimed at crippling Pakistan. Modi’s calculus here is that a measured approach keeps the moral high ground internationally. The message to Pakistan, which the world hears too, is: “We struck in retaliation for terrorism, but we do not want an escalation – the ball is in your court.” Whether Pakistan believes that message is another matter, but it is a key part of India’s signaling.
Modi’s India has tilted strategically toward partnership with the United States and its allies (via mechanisms like the Quad), while maintaining an important, if sometimes strained, relationship with China and a traditional bond with Russia. Each of these relationships comes into play now:
Modi’s personal style in diplomacy is often described as dual-faceted – he can be warm and charismatic on the global stage (remember the bear hugs with world leaders), but can turn cold to criticism. During this crisis, Modi has not yet directly spoken with Imran Khan (Pakistan’s previous PM) or the current Pakistani leadership, nor is that expected given severed ties. Instead, international intermediaries are key. The signals India sends through them are critical. For example, if backchannel contacts via the UAE or Saudi Arabia (who have acted as go-betweens in past Indo-Pak tensions) are active, India might communicate privately that it has done what it needed to do and expects Pakistan not to escalate, while also warning that any major Pakistani attack would be met with even stronger retaliation. This private warning complements the public posture.
So far, Modi’s government’s public messaging has combined deterrent language (Indian officials saying “we will not let any terrorist go unpunished” which warns Pakistan against more provocations) with conciliatory signals (no boastful talk of war, emphasizing strikes are finished for now). Indeed, after the operation, apart from confirming that India hit terrorist targets, Indian ministers have refrained from further inflammatory rhetoric – possibly intentionally toning down to give space for de-escalation. Modi himself, after the Bihar rally, has been relatively measured in public, perhaps letting the action speak for itself.
On the flip side, how Modi interprets Pakistan’s signals influences his next steps. Pakistan calling the strikes an “act of war” and shooting down jets is obviously a hostile signal. But notably, Pakistan’s retaliation so far has been targeted at Indian military assets (jets) and border areas, not, say, long-range missile strikes on Indian cities. That suggests Pakistan, too, is calibrating. Modi likely sees Pakistan’s current response as serious but not a full escalation – they haven’t, for instance, used a ballistic missile or a terrorist WMD attack, etc. The space for de-escalation thus still exists. Internationally, there is enormous pressure on Pakistan not to escalate to the nuclear threshold. China, despite supporting Pakistan, is fundamentally against nuclear conflict on its border. The U.S. and others have probably privately urged Pakistan to absorb this blow. Modi is counting on these global pressures to hold Pakistan back while he can claim victory and stop. India’s diplomatic corps, especially in Washington and Beijing, will be working overtime to ensure Pakistan’s grievances are heard (to cool their tempers) but that the blame is placed on Pakistan’s support for terrorism in the first place.
Finally, Modi’s longer-term diplomatic risk is how this crisis impacts India’s global image. On one hand, standing up to terrorism enhances India’s credibility among some partners and reinforces the narrative of India as a rising power that can police its neighborhood. On the other, if the conflict widens or if civilian casualties mount, India could come under criticism for endangering regional stability. Modi is mindful of India’s aspirations (like a permanent UNSC seat, economic investment). Thus, he would prefer to conclude the episode with India looking responsible and Pakistan isolated. To this end, India’s external messaging continues to underscore openness to “credible action by Pakistan against terror networks” – implying if Pakistan takes steps, India will pull back. It’s a way to shift the onus diplomatically onto Islamabad to prove it’s not backing militants.
In conclusion, Modi’s handling of international diplomacy in this crisis mixes assertiveness with careful signaling to avoid alienating allies. He has thus far succeeded in getting a fair amount of understanding for India’s position, leveraging global antipathy to terrorism. However, as the next section will discuss, despite these diplomatic efforts, the risk of uncontrolled escalation remains. No amount of signaling can completely shield against the unpredictable nature of war once engaged, especially given the personalities and domestic pressures on both sides.
Even as both India and Pakistan profess reluctance to fight a full-scale war, the reality is that once hostilities begin, escalation can acquire its own momentum. Under Modi’s watch, India has initiated a high-stakes game assuming that escalation can be managed and kept “controlled.” This section examines the various ways the situation could escalate – intentionally or accidentally – and how Modi’s leadership style and decisions influence those escalation dynamics. We explore scenarios ranging from a protracted conventional conflict to the unthinkable threshold of nuclear use, outlining the triggers and risks at each stage.
Following the initial exchange (Indian strikes, Pakistani riposte via air skirmishes and shelling), each side faces decisions on whether to intensify or pause. A major risk is tit-for-tat spiral: for instance, if Pakistan conducts a retaliatory strike on an Indian military installation (say a brigade headquarters or an airbase), Modi would be under immense pressure to respond in kind or with greater force. He might then authorize further strikes deeper in Pakistan or a larger air campaign. Pakistan in turn could expand the conflict beyond Kashmir/Punjab to other sectors – perhaps targeting India’s naval assets or launching ballistic missiles at Indian military targets. Each iteration increases the chances of a misstep or a misunderstood action.
Modi’s tendency to double down in the face of challenge could become dangerous here. As a leader who prizes the image of strength, Modi would find it hard to absorb a serious blow without retaliating. An illustrative scenario: Pakistan, to avenge the humiliation of strikes, might use surface-to-surface missiles (like the Nasr or Ghaznavi) to hit an Indian army base near the border, causing significant casualties. The Indian public and media would demand a bold reply. Modi might then consider options such as capturing a small piece of Pakistani territory (for example, a limited advance in Kashmir or Punjab) to prove a point. However, once territory is contested, full-scale conventional war is effectively underway. Both militaries’ forward deployments would clash. The risk of vertical escalation (more troops, heavier weaponry, all domains of warfare) becomes high.
Another risk is unintended escalation via accidents or miscalculations. South Asia’s high-tension environment, now with forces on hair-trigger alert, is fraught with possibilities for mistakes. The Diplomat aptly noted that with compressed decision times and low trust, “even routine military activity can take on the weight of something far more serious.” For example, a routine Pakistani air defense radar might mistakenly lock onto an airliner, thinking it’s an Indian military aircraft, and shoot it down – an incident akin to the 1988 downing of an Iranian airliner by the USS Vincennes. Such an accident, in the current climate, could be misconstrued by India as a deliberate escalation, prompting a rash response. Similarly, a skirmish at sea between naval patrols, or an incident at the India-Pakistan international border in Rajasthan (far from Kashmir) could suddenly widen the conflict geographically. Modi’s government has alerted civil defense in many states, not just Kashmir, showing it is alive to the possibility that conflict might not remain localized.
Both countries have growing cyber warfare capabilities. An often under-appreciated escalation path is if one side attempts a cyber attack on critical infrastructure of the other. If, say, an Indian power grid goes down in a major city due to a cyber attack traced to Pakistan (or vice versa), it could be seen as an escalation warranting physical retaliation. Modi’s digital infrastructure push means India is more networked than ever – a boon for development but a vulnerability in conflict. Neither side has publicly crossed the cyber Rubicon yet, but the longer hostilities persist, the more likely such tools will be used. The same goes for anti-satellite or electronic warfare capabilities: attempts to blind the other’s surveillance assets could be interpreted as preparation for a bigger strike, prompting a pre-emptive reaction.
Nuclear Shadow and Red Lines: The ultimate escalation risk in any Indo-Pak conflict is nuclear exchange. Both nations have nuclear arsenals with delivery systems that can reach anywhere in the opponent’s territory. Pakistan’s doctrine of “full spectrum deterrence” includes the possibility of using tactical nuclear weapons if Indian conventional forces overwhelm its defenses or seize large chunks of territory. So far, Modi’s actions have been below that threshold: India has not mobilized for a land invasion or aimed to capture territory. But if conventional war erupts and India’s superior forces (especially its strike corps in the plains of Punjab/Rajasthan) advance significantly, Pakistan’s trigger point could near. One nightmare scenario often discussed by strategists is if Pakistan uses a low-yield nuclear weapon on its own soil against invading Indian forces (for instance, in the desert or in a thinly populated part of Pakistani Punjab) as a last resort to stop India. How Modi would respond to even a “limited” nuclear use is a grave question – the options range from conventional punishment (very risky since the nuclear threshold has been breached) to retaliatory nuclear strikes (leading to all-out nuclear war). Modi’s public persona offers little clue on this, but given his nationalistic zeal, it’s unlikely he would tolerate any nuclear attack on Indian forces or soil without a massive response. The hope is that the crisis never goes anywhere near this point.
Even short of actual nuclear use, nuclear signaling can escalate tensions. Pakistan might, for example, start dispersing its nuclear weapons to field units or test-fire a ballistic missile as a warning shot. India could respond by raising the alert level of its Strategic Forces Command or moving its own nuclear-capable missiles into launch position. These moves can severely rattle each side, as they compress decision times and raise the risk of launch-on-warning postures. Modi’s control-centric leadership might lead him to keep a tight grip on nuclear release authority, but fog of war can introduce uncertainty. If communications between the two sides break down completely and worst-case assumptions take hold, the chances of misinterpreting a conventional missile launch as a nuclear strike, for example, are not zero. This is the trajectory that keeps analysts awake at night – the “uncontrollable escalation” scenario where a series of small mistakes or overreactions cascades into a strategic nightmare.
Typically, crises are managed through hotlines, third-party mediation, and signaling of de-escalatory intent. One risk factor is the state of communications between India and Pakistan. Currently, formal dialogues are frozen. There is a military hotline at the Director-General of Military Operations (DGMO) level that is usually kept open to avoid misunderstandings. It’s not public whether Modi’s government has used that channel during this crisis to clarify intentions (e.g., conveying that India’s strikes are one-off). It’s possible they have quietly done so. However, communication is complicated by the diplomatic freeze – Pakistan expelled the Indian High Commissioner, so direct diplomatic contact is minimal. In an authoritarian style, Modi might also be less inclined to use backchannels for compromise, preferring to communicate strength. By contrast, in 1999 or 2001-02 standoffs, even hardline leaders did use covert talks to step back. If Modi shuns any appearance of negotiating under pressure, a small incident might spiral because neither side is talking to diffuse it.
The involvement of foreign mediators can help, but Modi’s India has a nuanced view on that. Officially, India rejects external mediation on Kashmir or its disputes with Pakistan (a long-standing policy). Unofficially, India has welcomed US or others’ nudges when it aligns with India’s goals (as in 2019, to get the pilot back and press Pakistan on terror). The risk now is if escalation happens too fast for mediators to keep up. The Foreign Affairs piece warns that conditions for de-escalation now are less favorable than in 2019, partly because both Modi and Pakistan’s current leadership have less “space” to be seen compromising, and because global attention is distracted. If a bigger clash erupted, the international community would scramble, but it might be too late to prevent a disastrous exchange if decisions are made in minutes or hours on the battlefield.
Prolonged skirmishes or limited war will incur casualties. If Indian civilian or military deaths climb, Modi might feel compelled to intensify operations to force Pakistan to relent, rather than appear to be in a war of attrition. Conversely, if Pakistan suffers a humiliating setback (e.g., a major military loss or high-profile target destruction), its leadership might escalate in desperation. The interplay of honor and fear drives escalation – honor pushes them to retaliate for losses, fear of existential threat pushes towards drastic measures like nuclear use. Modi’s initial gambit tries to calibrate between those: cause enough loss to hurt Pakistan’s militant infrastructure (and pride), but not so much as to threaten the state. However, the line is subjective. Already Pakistan’s public narrative is framing the Indian strikes as massive aggression to justify potential bigger response. If domestic outrage in Pakistan grows, their leadership might calculate that not responding further is politically impossible. That could override caution.
It’s worth noting that time is a factor: The longer the conflict remains “active” (even at a low level of daily skirmishes or sporadic strikes), the more likely something will go wrong. So a critical risk mitigation would be a timely ceasefire or stand-down. Modi, who initiated the current military episode, will at some point have to decide if India has achieved its aims or if it needs to hit again. His decision-making will consider: Have we sufficiently degraded the terror threat? Has Pakistan been deterred or is it still retaliating? Are international pressures mounting on us? Too much caution and he loses the political narrative; too much aggression and he could trigger all-out war. This delicate judgment is where Modi’s personality matters. A leader more prone to caution might stop while ahead; a leader more prone to boldness might push his luck. Modi’s track record suggests he is willing to walk the edge, confident that he can stop just short of disaster. That confidence, however, might be optimistically biased.
In summary, escalation risks in this crisis are manifold and multi-directional. Modi’s assertive moves have already escalated the conflict beyond the norm. Containing it now requires both luck and skill: luck that no unforeseen incident occurs, and skill in crisis management from both sides. The danger is that patriotic fervor and rapid action – hallmarks of this standoff – leave “narrow space for caution.” The next wrong move, by either side, could transform a controlled conflict into a strategic calamity. The following section will consider how Pakistan might retaliate further and how Modi might be calculating his odds in that regard.
With Indian missiles having struck Pakistani soil and Pakistan’s immediate military riposte already in motion, the crisis now hinges on what Pakistan chooses to do next – and how Modi anticipates and responds to those choices. This section explores the spectrum of potential Pakistani responses, from measured to extreme, and analyzes the gambles Modi has made in assuming he can manage or withstand those responses. It is a critical interplay: Pakistan’s actions will determine if the conflict escalates or stabilizes, and Modi’s leadership will determine if India counters, calms, or compounds the situation.
Pakistan’s Military Options: Pakistan’s security establishment, led by its military and notably Army Chief Gen. Asim Munir, is under pressure to restore deterrence after India’s brazen strikes. Some options at their disposal include:
Modi’s Calculated Gambles:
In weighing these possible responses and gambles, one must note that Modi has a history of bold moves with high risk-high reward calculus. Be it the sudden demonetization of currency in 2016 (a domestic economic gamble) or the surgical strikes, he tends to trust his instinct and accept short-term turbulence for a hoped long-term gain. In this crisis, the Modi method is evident: seize initiative, keep opponent off-balance, rely on one’s own narrative control, and assume that boldness itself can shape reality (in this case, that showing resolve will cow Pakistan into restraint).
For Pakistan’s part, much depends on internal deliberations. The Pakistani military has to balance its public anger (and desire to punish India for the humiliation) with the recognition that a wider war could be catastrophic. Pakistan’s economy is in dire straits in 2025, struggling with debt and inflation. A war could be ruinous. Modi is likely well aware of this and is gambling that Pakistan’s fear of economic collapse and military defeat outweighs its anger. Indeed, some Pakistani leaders might prefer to take India’s strike on the chin and crow that “we shot down Indian jets, we showed them” domestically, then seek a face-saving off-ramp. If that is the case, Modi’s risk could pay off with a net strategic gain: establishing a new deterrent norm.
However, if Pakistan’s response is more severe than Modi anticipated, he will face a fateful choice: escalate further (and risk full war) or seek diplomatic exit (and risk looking weak after projecting strength). This decision point will test Modi’s leadership and judgement intensely. It is here that the “Modi variable” weighs heavily – as we’ll conclude, his personal imprint could either defuse or detonate the situation further.
The unfolding crisis under Modi’s watch is not just a bilateral affair; it carries profound implications for the security architecture of South Asia and beyond. This section assesses the broader fallout of the India-Pakistan confrontation in May 2025 on regional stability and international security concerns, highlighting how Modi’s approach might shape these outcomes.
The immediate impact of this crisis is a sharp deterioration in India-Pakistan relations – from an uneasy cold peace back to open hostilities. The suspension of the Indus Waters Treaty (IWT) by India, in particular, signals a move towards a more zero-sum and dangerous contest. The IWT was often cited as a rare example of sustained cooperation; its suspension means even basic resource-sharing is now politicized. If Modi maintains this stance for long, Pakistan’s agrarian heartland could face water stress over time (though immediate effects are limited). Pakistan calling it an “act of war” indicates that permanent damage to this treaty regime could become a casus belli in the future. Thus, one implication is the erosion of institutional conflict-management mechanisms – without the treaty or diplomatic accords like Simla in effect, there are fewer buffers and rules of the road for the rivals.
The crisis also likely kills any near-term prospect of dialogue on outstanding disputes such as Kashmir. Modi’s hardline policies had already virtually nullified bilateral talks (especially after his 2019 revocation of Kashmir’s autonomy, which Pakistan vehemently opposed). Now, with blood spilled and bitterness high, it’s conceivable that under Modi, India will refuse any talks until it sees concrete Pakistani action against terror groups – a demand Pakistan historically avoids or fakes. Conversely, Pakistan might refuse normalization until India reverses IWT suspension and addresses Kashmir abuses, which Modi will not do. This stalemate harms regional stability by leaving grievances to fester, likely breeding more militancy in Kashmir and perhaps beyond.
Neighboring countries also feel the shockwaves. Afghanistan, now under Taliban rule, has its own ties with Pakistan and hostility with India. A hotter Indo-Pak rivalry could further complicate Afghanistan: Pakistan might ask or pressure the Taliban regime to curb India’s footprint there (India has limited engagement after 2021, but any potential re-engagement can be stymied). Alternatively, militant groups could shift base between theatres – e.g., if Pakistan is under Indian pressure, some anti-India jihadists might find refuge or operational space in Afghanistan, which affects Afghan stability too. Iran watches carefully as well; a conflict on its eastern border between Pakistan and India can disrupt trade and any regional connectivity projects (like the Chabahar port route that India and Iran work on). Iran also shares the Indus basin’s weather outcomes – a water conflict in Indus basin could cause environmental stress that isn’t neatly contained by borders.
Both India and Pakistan (and by extension, the region) stand to lose economically from prolonged tension. Already Pakistan’s economy, as mentioned, is near crisis; war would ruin it and cause humanitarian issues (refugees, etc.) possibly spilling over into Iran or the Gulf. India’s economy is much larger and stronger, but even India would see investor confidence shaken by war. Modi has prided himself on economic growth and attracting manufacturing; a war threat might cause capital flight or at least delay investment decisions – something countries like China (India’s competitor) could quietly exploit. Regionally, South Asia’s cooperation (which is minimal as it is) would further freeze. SAARC (South Asian Association for Regional Cooperation) has been moribund largely due to Indo-Pak issues; this crisis probably nails its coffin for now. Regional integration projects (energy sharing, trade corridors) will suffer. In short, stability gives way to insecurity, which is a setback for poverty alleviation and growth in a region that houses a large poor population.
One long-term implication is an acceleration of the arms race in the region. If India’s new doctrine is to strike at will across boundaries, Pakistan will double down on means to counter that. We can expect Pakistan to invest more in air defenses, more in ballistic/cruise missiles (including possibly expanding its nuclear arsenal further to have more tactical warheads as a deterrent). India, in response, will not sit idle; Modi’s government already increased defense budgets and will likely channel more into stand-off capabilities, ISR, and maybe ABM (anti-ballistic missile) systems, seeing their utility. This classic security dilemma means more resources funneled into arms by both, at the expense of social needs. Countries like China and Russia could benefit as arms suppliers (China to Pakistan, Russia to India, etc.), altering regional balances. The risk of miscalculation might also rise with new weapon deployments and shorter warning times, as noted earlier.
Normalization of Cross-Border Strikes: Another serious implication is that by this episode, India has further normalized preemptive strikes in South Asia. Future Indian leaders (even beyond Modi) might feel compelled to follow the precedent when faced with major terror attacks. The threshold for using force has effectively been lowered. This could deter some militants if they believe their actions will bring punitive strikes – perhaps a positive outcome if it actually reduces terror incidents. However, it could also mean that whenever an incident happens, there’s immediate pressure on the Indian government of the day to respond militarily, reducing space for measured responses. Essentially, South Asia could enter a pattern of frequent crises – a militant attack, then a short India-Pak military exchange – akin to periodic limited wars. While none might escalate to full war, the more often you roll the dice, the higher the chance of eventually hitting the wrong combination. The crisis frequency and tension becomes the new normal, which is inherently unstable and anxiety-inducing for the region.
The world at large is deeply concerned whenever India and Pakistan clash, given the nuclear dimension. A nuclear exchange between them could not only kill millions locally but have global environmental effects (some studies suggest even a “limited” nuclear war could inject soot into the atmosphere causing global cooling). Thus, every Indo-Pak crisis is watched in world capitals with alarm. Under Modi, as we’ve seen, India is more willing to test Pakistan’s threshold. Global powers might feel a need to intervene more directly to impose confidence-building measures or force dialogue, something Modi’s government resents but might face. For example, the UN Security Council could become more seized of Kashmir and the conflict, potentially leading to unwanted external involvement in what India considers a bilateral matter.
On the other hand, if this crisis is resolved without nuclear escalation, it could offer some cautious optimism that even in the Modi era of assertiveness, the worst can be avoided – possibly by tacit understandings or new crisis protocols. There might even emerge new back-channel diplomacy agreements (e.g., perhaps an understanding that in future India will give a short warning via a third party before striking, or Pakistan will quietly arrest certain militants to stave off Indian action). If Modi’s gambit succeeds and Pakistan curtails militant activity (fearful of strikes), that could lead to a quieter border in the long term – ironically improving stability. But this is speculative and perhaps optimistic; the immediate trend is escalation and distrust.
The crisis also influences the broader strategic triangle involving China. If Pakistan feels isolated, it will lean even more on China for support. China might increase military aid to Pakistan to help it rebuild deterrence. Meanwhile, India’s forces, already wary of China, might have to stay more alert on two fronts. There’s a risk that China could seize the distraction to make moves on the contested China-India border. Indeed, a two-front challenge is India’s nightmare. Modi has to ensure India’s standoff with Pakistan doesn’t inadvertently encourage Chinese opportunism. So far, there’s no sign of that, but India reportedly moved some units in the north-east just in case. This shows how an Indo-Pak crisis can have ripple effects on the Indo-Pacific strategic theatre. The US, Japan, etc., who are India’s partners in countering China, will watch if India gets too bogged down in South Asia – it could shift power balances in the larger context. Conversely, if the crisis is managed, India might emerge more confident and even more valued by Western partners as a power that can handle itself.
Global Counter-Terrorism and Norms: The crisis also raises questions in international law and norms about preemptive strikes. Modi’s actions, if tacitly accepted by the world, set a precedent that a country can strike another if it credibly links non-state actors’ attacks to that state. Many countries face terror threats from across borders – will they emulate India? For example, might Israel cite India’s example vis-à-vis strikes in Syria or Iran, or might Turkey justify attacks on Kurdish militants in Iraq/Syria similarly? The precedent can cut both ways. Countries combating terrorism may feel emboldened to take unilateral military actions beyond their borders. This might please those who suffer from terrorism, but it also challenges the sovereignty norm and could lead to more interstate friction globally. The world’s reaction to India’s move will either reinforce or discourage this trend. So far, because Pakistan is widely seen as a sponsor of terror (due to groups like LeT, JeM), India’s case gets more sympathy than if it were a more clear-cut aggression scenario. But other states may not have the same goodwill if they try similar strikes.
Within both India and Pakistan, a drawn-out conflict or even the state of high alert can have domestic implications. In India, there’s often a communal angle – anti-Muslim rhetoric can spike, given the Pakistan-Muslim conflation in some nationalist discourse. That can imperil the social fabric and lead to internal unrest or rights violations (e.g., crackdowns on suspected sympathizers). Modi’s government has already faced criticism for authoritarian tendencies; a war can be used to justify more draconian measures internally (detentions, censorship under guise of security). In Pakistan, an Indian attack can strengthen the military’s hand even more in politics and sideline civilian voices calling for peace. It can also embolden jihadist narratives that claim India wants to destroy Pakistan, thus recruitment might surge for extremist groups. This entrenches a cycle of extremism that is bad for regional stability long-term.
If the crisis deepens, countries may be forced to choose sides more openly. So far, we see nuanced positions: US leaning towards India’s stance, China towards Pakistan’s, others in between. A prolonged or larger conflict could harden these lines, possibly sucking South Asia into the larger geopolitical rifts (US vs China/Russia camps). That’s something both India and Pakistan would want to avoid because it could limit their strategic autonomy. Modi would not want to be seen as just doing someone’s bidding; he casts India as a rising independent power. Similarly, Pakistan, though reliant on China, doesn’t want to be a total pawn. But war has a way of making countries dependent on allies.
In conclusion, the Indo-Pakistani crisis of 2025 under Modi’s leadership is a pivotal moment for regional order. It could either be a contained flare-up that eventually leads to recalibrated deterrence and a grudging new status quo, or it could mark the beginning of a more perilous era of frequent military exchanges and unstable deterrence in South Asia. Globally, it revives the specter of nuclear conflict at a time when the world already faces multiple crises (the ongoing Russia-West tensions, Middle East issues, etc.). Modi’s handling of this situation will influence whether international actors see India as a stabilizing power that can manage its neighborhood or as a risk-taker that needs to be restrained. The next and final section will sum up how Modi’s individual role – “the Modi variable” – is likely to shape not just this crisis but future ones as well, gleaning lessons and outlooks from the current showdown.
The May 2025 confrontation between India and Pakistan underscores the outsized impact of leadership on the dynamics of war and peace – in this case, the impact of Narendra Modi. As India’s prime minister, Modi has demonstrated that his authoritarian-populist style is a decisive factor in how crises originate, escalate, and potentially de-escalate. This “Modi variable” – the personal imprint of his leadership – will likely continue to shape Indo-Pakistani relations for the foreseeable future.
This brief has detailed how Modi’s actions and decisions, driven by his domestic political strategy and strategic worldview, set the pace of the current crisis. Modi’s choice to retaliate militarily in a robust fashion has shown both the potential benefits and grave risks of having a strong-willed, domestically empowered leader at the helm in such situations. On one hand, his decisiveness and refusal to be cowed by Pakistani nuclear threats could strengthen deterrence against state-sponsored terror. It sends a message that under his watch, India will not simply absorb attacks – a posture many in India and abroad might argue was necessary to break the cycle of proxy violence. On the other hand, that same decisiveness edges the subcontinent closer to war than it has been in years, raising the specter of miscalculation in a nuclear environment. The absence of cooler institutional checks internally means that once Modi commits to a path, reversal is unlikely – a double-edged sword when flexibility can sometimes avert disaster.
As future crises emerge (and as long as the core disputes and drivers remain, they will), Modi or a similarly minded Indian leader might lean on the precedent set now. Each successive episode can escalate a bit more, as we’ve seen from 2016 to 2019 to 2025, emboldened by past outcomes. Thus, the Modi era may be forging a new norm of crisis behavior: rapid Indian punitive action followed by intense but hopefully short military exchanges. If this becomes entrenched, the Indo-Pak rivalry enters a more hair-trigger phase. That requires new thinking in both New Delhi and Islamabad, as well as in world capitals, about crisis stability and risk-reduction measures. Traditional third-party appeals or the old playbook (e.g., US nudging Pakistan to back down, India declaring mission accomplished) might work a few times, but it’s a shaky insurance policy when structural tensions (like Kashmir, terrorism, communal hatred) remain unresolved.
Modi’s authoritarian style provided the capacity to act swiftly – no paralysis by analysis – and his populism provided the will and public backing to do so. In some scenarios, a fast and forceful response can indeed catch an adversary off guard and limit prolonged fighting (the idea of “escalate to de-escalate” in a conventional sense). If Pakistan ultimately holds back from full retaliation, one could argue Modi’s approach worked by imposing caution on Pakistan through fear of India’s resolve. However, authoritarian populism is a volatile ingredient. Domestically, it has led to fervor that might push Modi further than perhaps even he initially intended, if public bloodlust demands it. Unlike a more technocratic leader who might more coolly calibrate and communicate in a crisis, Modi thrives on emotive messaging – which can corner him into positions where backing down is politically untenable. For example, once he publicly vowed to “punish every terrorist and their backers,” anything less than a visible punitive action could be painted as a capitulation. In international crises, such rhetorical binding of oneself can remove off-ramps.
Going forward, the Modi factor means any incident can escalate faster. Conversely, if Modi chooses restraint, his credibility with his base might suffer, which he will be loath to risk. Therefore, unless Pakistan dramatically reins in provocations (which given its internal dynamics is uncertain), we may be in for a volatile cycle: provocation, Indian retaliation, brinksmanship, and last-moment pulls from the abyss. Each cycle will test the limits of how far Modi can go without triggering Pakistan’s breaking point.
Need for Risk Mitigation
Recognizing this, stakeholders – including internal Indian advisors, the Pakistani leadership, and international partners – must adapt. Within India, even supporters of Modi might quietly counsel the importance of crisis communication channels with Pakistan to prevent accidental wars. Strength can be demonstrated alongside savvy diplomacy; indeed, a truly strong leader should be able to both strike and then talk to secure peace. Whether Modi’s disposition allows that is uncertain; as of now he shows little interest in dialogue. Pakistan, on its part, will need to reassess its strategy of using proxies. Each time it does so now, it risks a direct clash with a far stronger India. If Pakistan’s security calculus is rational, it may see the writing on the wall that continuing support for militant groups could invite punishing blows it cannot afford. In that sense, one could hope Modi’s hard line eventually forces Pakistan to curb jihadist elements (as a survival strategy). That would be a positive for regional stability, but it’s a risky way to achieve it – akin to forcing a dangerous animal into a corner and expecting it to become tame rather than lash out.
The world, too, has a stake in tempering the Modi variable. Allies and partners of India should continue engaging Modi’s government, praising legitimate counter-terrorism but also privately emphasizing the need to avoid escalation. They might encourage measures like revival of hotlines, military-to-military communications, or agreements on not targeting certain infrastructure (for example, maybe a mutual understanding not to strike dams or major economic centers unless all-out war, to spare civilian catastrophe). The global non-proliferation community will certainly call for confidence-building, like both sides reaffirming their nuclear restraint. Under Modi, India might be more receptive to such measures only after demonstrating strength – meaning perhaps after this crisis, if it ends favorably for India, Modi might have the confidence to quietly engage in some risk-reduction steps, having proven his hawkish credentials.
For academics and analysts, the Modi factor in Indo-Pak crises will be a subject of much study. It challenges some conventional wisdom about deterrence stability. Traditional theory might assume that mutual nuclear weapons guarantee caution, but Modi’s India shows that strong political will and prepared conventional capabilities can upend that stability in pursuit of sub-nuclear goals. We might see new strategic thought arising on how “authoritarian populist deterrence” works – where domestic politics drive international risk-taking. Understanding Modi’s mindset is thus not just a political exercise but a security imperative for predicting future crises.
In sum, Narendra Modi’s leadership has profoundly influenced the current Indo-Pakistan crisis – intensifying it, yet potentially keeping it contained to a point, through a strategy of bold action and calculated restraint. Whether this approach will yield a safer equilibrium or simply more frequent confrontations is still unfolding. What is clear is that Modi’s imprint on India’s national security policy is indelible: it is muscular, nationalistic, and unapologetic about taking risks. Pakistan and the international community are now forced to reckon with this “Modi doctrine” in every scenario. The critical risk assessment at this juncture is guarded: there is a real danger that Modi’s confidence and Pakistan’s resistance could lead to a strategic crisis neither side wants. However, if managed prudently, there is also an opportunity – albeit slim – that a new understanding emerges, one where Pakistan curbs its proxy war and India, having made its point, can show restraint, leading to a period of tenuous stability.
Ultimately, the Modi variable means the range of potential outcomes in Indo-Pak crises is wider than before – from limited clashes under control to worst-case escalation. Policymakers and analysts must therefore plan for both the hopeful and the harrowing scenarios. In the end, leadership will make the difference. As of May 2025, Modi’s leadership has brought India and Pakistan to a crossroads: one path could descend toward a cycle of conflict, the other could, if both sides absorb the lessons, inch back toward deterrence and dialogue. The world watches with bated breath, aware that in this nuclear-charged rivalry, the decisions of one man – Narendra Modi – have tipped the balance and will continue to do so in crises to come.
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