(By Ayesha Mahnoor)
The dust from the May 2025 border skirmishes has barely settled, yet New Delhi seems eager to stir it up again. The ghosts of Operation Sindoor—a rather theatrical episode masquerading as counter-terrorism—continue to haunt the uneasy peace between Pakistan and India. What was once sold to the Indian public as a “decisive strike” now looks more like a reckless misadventure wrapped in patriotic fervour. Unfortunately, the architects of that fiasco appear undeterred; whispers of a “Sindoor-2” have begun echoing through India’s defence corridors, accompanied by the usual chest-thumping rhetoric that substitutes spectacle for strategy.
The Anatomy of Operation Sindoor: A Reckless Gamble Masquerading as Retaliation
To understand the perilous path ahead, one must revisit the original drama. Following an attack in Pahalgam, Indian-administered Kashmir, on 22 April 2025—a tragedy condemned outright by Islamabad—India reached reflexively for its favourite script: accuse Pakistan first, verify later. Within weeks, on 7 May, Operation Sindoor was unleashed: a barrage of missile strikes targeting what New Delhi claimed were “terror camps” across Azad Kashmir and Punjab.
It was, in essence, a gamble dressed as strategy. The reality was far less cinematic. The so-called precision strikes achieved little beyond destroying homes, mosques, and any pretence of proportionality. Twenty-six civilians were killed; nearly fifty more were injured. Yet Indian media, ever obedient to the drumbeat of “victory narratives,” insisted that “hundreds of terrorists” had been neutralised—claims swiftly debunked by independent satellite imagery.
Pakistan’s response—Operation Bunyan-um-Marsoos—was everything India’s wasn’t: disciplined, targeted, and effective. Our air defences intercepted multiple incursions, while counter-strikes exposed the much-touted S-400 system’s limitations. Even an Indian analyst conceded, albeit reluctantly, that the operation had been “more bluster than bite.” By 10 May, when Washington stepped in to douse the flames, it was evident who had gained moral and tactical ascendancy.
Strategically, Sindoor backfired spectacularly. Rather than isolating Pakistan, it rallied its domestic unity and international partnerships. Beijing, Riyadh, Tehran, and Ankara reaffirmed strategic alignment, while India’s diplomatic fabric frayed under scrutiny. Even the suspension of the Indus Waters Treaty—a supposed pressure tactic—boomeranged, painting New Delhi as a spoiler in an era of climate crisis. If the goal was deterrence, the result was humiliation disguised as heroism.
Sindoor-2: From Rhetoric to Reality – Warnings That Ring Alarm Bells
Fast forward to October 2025, and déjà vu seems imminent. India’s military elite have taken to issuing threats with alarming regularity. The Army Chief, in a flourish worthy of a film script, vowed that Sindoor-2 would be “more devastating and transformative.” The Air Chief went one better, promising to “redraw geography”—apparently mistaking diplomacy for cartography.
Behind the bluster lies political theatre. With elections looming, a government beset by economic woes and diplomatic missteps appears intent on resurrecting the ghosts of Sindoor to rally domestic sentiment. As an Indian analyst recently noted, “offensive defence” has become Delhi’s doctrine of denial—a convenient diversion from its internal fractures.
The danger is that such rhetoric, once unleashed, acquires a momentum of its own. With heightened tensions in Kashmir, any border incident—real or fabricated—could serve as the spark. Pakistan’s enhanced radar and hypersonic deterrents leave little room for miscalculation, yet India’s leadership seems determined to test that margin. Should Sindoor-2 materialise, it risks igniting a regional inferno far beyond the subcontinent.
Exercise Trishul: The Sword at Our Throat
Adding fuel to the fire is India’s Exercise Trishul, a tri-service extravaganza staged uncomfortably close to Pakistan’s borders. Scheduled from 30 October to 10 November in the Rann of Kutch—a region whose disputes date back to the 1960s—this “routine drill” involves Rafale jets, amphibious forces, and naval assets operating within visual range of Sindh’s coastline.
One wonders if New Delhi realises how thin the line is between deterrence and delusion. Official statements describing Trishul as a “message of readiness” sound eerily similar to pre-Sindoor briefings. And when India’s Defence Minister proclaims that the response will be “so strong it will change history and geography,” one is compelled to ask: has India mistaken military posturing for a cartographic exercise?
Pakistan’s precautionary NOTAMs restricting southern airspace reflect prudence, not paranoia. When one neighbour plays war games at your doorstep, responsible nations prepare, not panic. The imagery emerging from satellites—troop concentrations, forward deployments, radar activations—mirrors the build-up that preceded Sindoor-1. History, it seems, is preparing to repeat itself, only louder and less rational.
Pakistan’s Fortress: Resilience in the Face of Aggression
If New Delhi imagines Pakistan will face the next act of aggression unprepared, it is sorely mistaken. Pakistan’s deterrent capability today is neither symbolic nor static. The Army Rocket Force’s precision-strike systems, advanced air-defence grids, and naval readiness guarantee that any hostile adventure will invite consequences too grave for political theatrics.
More importantly, Pakistan’s internal cohesion—political, military, and diplomatic—has strengthened. Economic reforms, strategic partnerships, and regional diplomacy have stabilised the nation’s footing. Meanwhile, India’s persistent micromanagement of its armed forces, coupled with bureaucratic infighting, continues to sap its operational agility. As one senior retired Indian officer lamented, “Our integration is only on paper; our confidence, on borrowed time.”
Even Trishul, with its gleaming hardware and patriotic choreography, conceals a deeper malaise: inflated budgets, under-trained recruits, and over-promised technologies. The illusion of power may play well on television, but history tends to be less forgiving of hubris.
A Call for Restraint: The World Must Intervene
Operation Sindoor-2, if unleashed, would not be a campaign of defence—it would be a catastrophe of choice. The region stands perilously close to an escalation that neither side truly desires, yet one side seems dangerously keen to provoke. The international community, particularly the UN, United States, and China, must act with urgency to reinstate the 2003 Line of Control ceasefire and curb India’s adventurism before it metastasises into something uncontainable.
Pakistan’s position remains clear: we do not seek conflict, but neither shall we tolerate aggression. Our responses, if forced, will be swift and decisive—but our preference, as always, is peace through strength and dialogue through dignity.
An Indian analyst recently observed that Sindoor “failed not because Pakistan over-performed, but because India under-thought.” That assessment, biting as it is, deserves attention in New Delhi. Strategy is not theatre, and deterrence is not a slogan. As the subcontinent stands at yet another crossroads, one hopes wisdom prevails over war-drumming, and diplomacy over delusion.
Let Sindoor remain a cautionary tale, not a sequel.
