Indo–Pakistan Relations: The Cost of Permanent Hostility
Air Marshal (Retd) Shahid Akhtar Alvi

It is a tragic reality that many young people today have grown up seeing the seven decades of managed hostility between India and Pakistan as a permanent and unquestioned feature of life. This condition did not emerge overnight, nor can it be attributed to any single actor or decision; it evolved gradually through history, conflict, and accumulated mistrust, shaping the strategic environment in which both states have operated. The culmination of these aspects has created a climate of distrust between India and Pakistan.
Meanwhile, ordinary people in Lahore, Karachi, Delhi, and Lucknow continue to contend with inflation, unemployment, strained public services, worsening climatic conditions and shrinking opportunities for their children. In such an environment, prolonged tension between states often diverts public attention toward external threats, leaving little space for sustained focus on long-term governance challenges, economic reform, and social equity. The overwhelming majority of people are aware of the continued presence of an imbalanced situation between the two countries, yet many choose not to voice their opinions regarding this issue for fear of misinterpretation.
Beyond severing ties between two neighbouring states, this rivalry has impacted public psychology, education narratives, political behaviour, economic priorities, and media incentives in ways that continuously prioritise security needs over governance and development issues. Even beyond intent or design, dynamics have taken on a life of their own, often resulting in larger budgets, greater secrecy, and reduced tolerance for dissent.
In both countries, strategic decision-making remains concentrated within limited institutional frameworks that are often removed from the everyday economic pressures faced by society. The cumulative costs of constrained trade, and deferred development are therefore felt most directly by citizens, whose role in shaping long-term security policy is almost non existent. As a result, despite steep cost, hostility endures as it simplifies difficult choices and postpones harder reforms.
The International military-industrial complex draws comfort from the enduring rivalry between the two regional powers. In effect, it has a vested interest in sustaining this hostility for a simple reason that prolonged tension transforms conflict into an industry and then the same military-industrial complex shapes and often distorts policy choices that might otherwise lean toward restraint and reconciliation.
History and economics both suggest that regional trade remains one of the most reliable paths to shared prosperity as it lowers costs, improves efficiency, and creates mutual stakes in long-term stability. While India may currently feel confident enough to place limited emphasis on regional cooperation due to the momentum of its own economy, it would be prudent not to overlook the longer-term implications such a posture can carry for strategic autonomy. Recent diplomatic frictions and tariff pressures from major powers serve as reminders that external partnerships are often shaped by shifting interests rather than enduring commitments. Even when global alignments appear favourable, they rarely offer permanence or insulation from future recalibration. In this context, regional engagement should always be viewed as a stabilising asset that preserves strategic balance and reduces vulnerability to external shifts.
In light of these realities, it would be prudent for India to engage both China and Pakistan in parallel, rather than treating regional relationships as secondary to distant alignments or short-term tactical considerations. A balanced regional approach would better serve long-term stability and preserve India’s strategic autonomy in an increasingly fluid global order. Besides, a forward-looking regional posture would signal confidence and strategic maturity, particularly at a time when the limits of external partnerships are becoming increasingly evident. for instance, India’s activities in Afghanistan are closely observed and broadly interpreted as attempts to exert influence in ways that ultimately complicate regional stability rather than enhance it. This is not a smart long-term move, especially when it risks deepening mistrust with Pakistan while simultaneously aggravating relations with China, a co-equal global power whose proximity and economic weight cannot be wished away. This is not merely a personal view but, in fact, seasoned Indian analysts, including Pravin Sawhney, have repeatedly cautioned that antagonising China while remaining regionally isolated risks overstretching India’s resources without delivering meaningful gains in security.
SAARC, once envisioned as a vehicle for transforming South Asia through cooperation, has gradually been paralysed, largely because India has been unwilling to allow it to function independently of bilateral disputes. This has persisted despite Indian policymakers being fully aware that Pakistan’s political leadership has, over time, consistently expressed a willingness to move forward, and that sustained Track-II engagement reflects a broader desire within Pakistan’s establishment to avoid perpetual confrontation. At the same time, recent unilateral steps taken by India in Jammu and Kashmir, perceived across Pakistan as legally and morally troubling, have deeply affected public sentiment and further constrained diplomatic space. While these developments have complicated engagement, they need not define the future. A regional framework built on restraint, mutual respect, and incremental confidence-building remains possible if political will is exercised on both sides, particularly by recognising that durable stability cannot emerge from unilateralism or the marginalisation of legitimate regional concerns. Hence, BJPs Persisting policies that alienate neighbours while relying on extra-regional balances may offer short-term reassurance, but over time they erode strategic autonomy.
It is also important to recognise that hostility toward Pakistan rooted in the trauma of Partition is not a nationwide sentiment within India. Its emotional intensity is largely concentrated in parts of the north-western belt and certain sections of western India, where historical memory and political mobilisation continue to reinforce each other. Large parts of southern India do not carry this inherited animosity, while the north-eastern “Seven Sister” states remain so distant from Delhi’s strategic imagination that Pakistan scarcely figures in their public consciousness. Paradoxically, those communities most deeply marked by Partition often express the strongest desire to visit their ancestral towns and villages across the border, revealing a quiet human longing that persists beneath hardened political narratives. This contradiction is difficult to grasp from afar and becomes evident only through lived experience within the other society.
Over time, it has also been observed that hostility toward Pakistan inside India is not as uniform as it is often portrayed. In many interactions, the sharper edges of animosity appeared less within the armed forces and more within certain policy (Ministry of External Affairs) and opinion shaping circles. When ordinary professionals, retired officers, or business figures from India had the opportunity to engage directly with Pakistanis, their assumptions often softened. Many returned with a more balanced view, surprised by the warmth, openness, and normalcy they encountered. Even those who arrived with hesitation or inherited anxieties found that direct human contact dissolved much of what media narratives had reinforced. These experiences quietly reveal a simple truth that when people meet without filters, they see the reality, which leads to the recognition of shared humanity that politics struggles to erase. This distinction matters, because it indicates that the impulse to sustain confrontation does not always originate from uniform national sentiment, but from specific institutional and ideological ecosystems that benefit from its persistence.
Equally revealing has been the transformation witnessed when Visitors from India including retired military officers, business leaders, and professionals who arrived with hesitation shaped largely by media portrayals, often returned with markedly different impressions. Encounters with everyday Pakistani society, its warmth, dignity, and social confidence, quietly unsettled assumptions formed over decades. Even anxieties rooted in cultural misconceptions gradually dissolved through ordinary human interaction, replaced by respect and a sense of familiarity that contradicted years of conditioning. This is precisely why people-to-people contact unsettles entrenched positions and weakens the emotional scaffolding on which confrontation depends.
Prime Minister Atal Behari Vajpayee’s visit to Pakistan in year 1999 reinforced an important lesson that under confident and responsible leadership, even ideologically rigid constituencies such as the RSS could be restrained, particularly as the immediacy of the Babri Masjid trauma had begun to fade. It is therefore deeply unfortunate that under Prime Minister Modi, Hindutva politics has expanded its reach into sections of educated youth and segments of the business community, steadily narrowing the political space for reconciliation. More troubling has been the gradual blurring of boundaries between political narrative and professional military judgment, as elements of India’s traditionally secular and institutional armed forces appeared willing to operate within overtly politicised security frameworks. Episodes such as Balakot and the subsequent crisis revealed the risks of subordinating operational prudence to political messaging, resulting in avoidable embarrassment and reputational cost. While these developments have hardened positions and eroded trust on both sides, however, even now, the possibility of a cooperative relationship has not vanished. It remains achievable if engagement is institutionalised, insulated from episodic crises, and pursued patiently and consistently with political courage and strategic sobriety by leadership in both countries.
Some of the most serious attempts to break this deadlock have emerged from unexpected quarters. General Pervez Musharraf, despite his military background, spent nearly seven years pursuing peace with India. As President, his perspective expanded beyond conventional security reflexes, leading him to place on the table perhaps the most flexible and workable framework Pakistan has ever offered on Kashmir, one that consciously moved away from absolutist positions toward practical stabilisation. During that period, the proposal generated unusually wide debate within Indian society, triggering sustained discussion that continued for nearly three years and divided opinion almost evenly. Many observers believed that a BJP-led government might not have faced the same degree of internal vulnerability or political backlash had it chosen to move forward at that time. Later, senior Congress leaders privately acknowledged that the framework was both politically attractive and strategically sound, yet they feared that accepting it would expose them to accusations of betrayal. This hesitation reflected a deeper structural dilemma within Indian politics, where even well-considered initiatives can become difficult to advance when national sentiment is highly polarised.
It also quietly challenges the convenient narrative that peace initiatives fail simply because the military will not permit them. The episode underscores a broader truth that enduring conflicts are rarely resolved on battlefields, but through dialogue, imagination, and political courage.
One central reason Indo–Pakistan peace initiatives repeatedly collapse is a flawed sequence of engagement. Both sides insist on beginning with the hardest disputes assuming that resolving the core first will unlock everything else. In reality, this guarantees paralysis for the very basic reason that core disputes are historically burdened, making them unsuitable entry points for reconciliation when trust, economic interdependence, and political space remain underdeveloped.
Expecting leaders to take risks on existential issues without a cushion of societal and economic ties is unrealistic. Without a wider web of shared interests, any gesture is immediately framed as betrayal or surrender. Peace therefore cannot be negotiated into existence through summits alone; it must be constructed gradually by creating layers of mutual dependence that raise the cost of hostility and lower the fear of engagement.
This process must begin away from the most difficult disputes, with a mutual understanding that core issues cannot be resolved in isolation or haste, but only through sustained engagement over time. In the interim, progress should be built through trade, business linkages, people-to-people contact, cultural exchange, sports, tourism, and academic cooperation. These channels do not replace diplomacy; they prepare the ground on which meaningful agreements can eventually take root. Few regions possess the latent economic potential of South Asia, yet few waste it as consistently. Indo–Pak hostility blocks trade routes, tourism, energy cooperation, and agricultural exchange that could generate billions while easing inflation and strengthening local industries. Pilgrimage tourism alone could transform regional economies, creating employment across hospitality, transport, retail, and services.
For decades, it has been assumed that discreet backchannel diplomacy could gradually open the door to reconciliation, allowing difficult issues to be addressed quietly before entering the public domain. While such channels have occasionally reduced friction, experience shows that they cannot, on their own, carry the weight of durable peace. The main reason for their questionable success is that ideas discussed in isolation without broader societal ownership tend to fizzle out the moment leadership changes or a crisis intervenes. Such engagement has often remained limited by the constraints, calculations, and caution that accompany short political cycles, where leaders operate within narrow mandates and prioritise immediate stability over longer-term transformation. By the time the limits of this approach become apparent, leadership has usually changed and the cycle begins again, leaving successors to confront the same unresolved dilemmas under similar pressures. Therefore, sustainable peace should not rest on individual leaders but must be anchored in parliamentary consensus that transcends party lines and electoral cycles, because when opposition and government jointly own a peace process state institutions align with confidence and the space for spoilers steadily shrinks.
War between India and Pakistan is strategically self-defeating, as neither side can achieve decisive outcomes in a nuclearized environment. Experience has shown that even in a low intensity conflict between India and Pakistan, the escalation ladder can be climbed quickly, turning even limited conflict into a form of strategic gambling. In such circumstances, the costs are immediate and long-lasting, while whatever gains emerge are fragile and easily undone. A single incident, a careless statement, or a shift in mood can undo months of progress, pulling both sides back into familiar patterns of mistrust.
Ordinary people on both sides are often misled by the language of conquest, which resurfaces from time to time in political discourse. Recent statements from Indian side regarding Azad Kashmir and Gilgit-Baltistan, for instance, may appeal to domestic sentiment, but they overlook both strategic reality and historical experience. Military outcomes in recent years have already demonstrated that such objectives are neither practical nor sustainable. More importantly, the international system itself has evolved. Territorial conquest has become increasingly untenable under legal, diplomatic, and economic scrutiny. In today’s interconnected world, no state can alter borders by force without incurring severe political, economic, and reputational costs. Even apparent military success rarely translates into stability; instead, it invites prolonged instability, sanctions, isolation, and internal strain. Occupation has become a liability and power exercised without legitimacy often weakens the very objectives it seeks to secure.
History shows that long-standing rivalries tend to ease when conflict no longer makes economic or political sense, and experiences such as France–Germany, Northern Ireland, and Vietnam–United States indicate that reconciliation usually emerges gradually rather than through a single decisive event. Re-initiating talks between Pakistan and India within the framework of the Composite Dialogue could provide a pragmatic starting point, given that its charter was mutually agreed and previously accepted by both parties.
In Pakistan, calls for engagement are often dismissed as weakness, even though our faith places justice, dignity, and the protection of life at its centre. Across the border, majoritarian nationalism similarly gains from confrontation by turning domestic problems into matters of national security, with ordinary people paying the price. It must also be recognised that religious extremists on both sides benefit from continued hostility, because conflict simplifies complex realities and feeds intolerance, while faith, when kept free from political misuse, encourages restraint and responsibility and reminds us that when anger dominates religious space, peace is the usual victim.
Labelling those who favour engagement as naïve or unpatriotic has, over time, discouraged open discussion. It is therefore important for scholars, journalists, economists, and policymakers to help restore balance to the debate by encouraging informed and responsible dialogue. A meaningful step toward peace lies in recognising that periods of prolonged tension tend to create their own incentives, benefiting certain interests across political, bureaucratic, media, and external domains. As history suggests, these incentives diminish when stability and peace acquire credibility.
It is safe to say that despite managed animosity, millions on both sides carry a quiet curiosity about one another. For many Indians, Pakistan remains a place of shared history, family memory, and cultural familiarity. For Pakistanis, India carries similar meaning, a land of ancestral ties, languages once spoken together, and traditions that still feel recognisable. Beneath decades of political tension, there exists a genuine human curiosity to see, to meet, and to understand those who have long been portrayed only through the lens of rivalry.
If people were allowed to travel freely, the impact would be immediate and profound. Cities would fill with visitors, families would reconnect, and long-closed doors of trade, culture, sport, and creativity would reopen. The economic and social dividends would be unlike anything the region has witnessed in recent history. Ordinary Indians and Pakistanis often sense this instinctively, even if they rarely have the opportunity to express it openly.
What often stands in the way is not public sentiment, but long-standing habits and structures that have grown comfortable with distance and caution. Yet history shows that moments of change require leaders willing to think beyond inherited fears. President Pervez Musharraf, whatever one’s view of his tenure, demonstrated that unconventional thinking could open doors previously considered sealed. His willingness to imagine alternatives showed that long-standing disputes are not immovable truths, but political conditions shaped by choice. The opportunities before South Asia remain vast, and a different future is still within reach. This does not require abandoning national interests, only the wisdom to view them through a wider and more confident lens.
At the same time, India’s growing reliance on Hindutva as a guiding political narrative risk narrowing its strategic space. Positioned between two Muslim-majority neighbours, Pakistan to the west and Bangladesh to the eastt and home to one of the world’s largest Muslim populations, India has historically drawn strength from pluralism, accommodation, and constitutional balance. These qualities allowed a deeply diverse society to hold together and project confidence beyond its borders. Moving away from that equilibrium weakens India’s long-term standing.
A civilisation as old and resilient as India does not need ideological rigidity to protect its future. Overreliance on identity politics can strain internal cohesion and complicate external relationships. While differences across Muslim societies are real, the sense of shared moral identity within the wider Muslim world also remains a reality that cannot be ignored. Policies that appear dismissive of this reality tend to resonate far beyond national boundaries, often in unintended ways. India, whose economy has a strong link and reliance with rich gulf states, should not ignore this reality. This argument does not ask for ideological retreat, but call for strategic maturity that would certainly strengthen India’s regional posture and restore the goodwill that once underpinned its influence. The earlier this adjustment begins, the easier it will be to rebuild trust, stability, and constructive engagement across the region.
It would be wise for the regional countries to learn from history, especially from examples that closely resemble their own situation. Experience shows that when people are allowed to travel freely and trade and other cultural contacts are permitted to grow naturally, perceptions begin to change on their own. Over time, relationships rooted in commerce, culture, and shared human experience create stakes that no side is willing to casually destroy.
If such an environment is allowed to take root, and only then do governments sit down to address long-standing disputes, the atmosphere is fundamentally different as negotiations no longer feel imposed but they become grounded in mutual interest. This approach is neither naïve nor idealistic. It is practical, tested, and rooted in human behaviour. Societies that interact freely develop resilience against hostility, because people begin to see what they stand to lose. Trade, travel, cultural exchange, and everyday human contact create a quiet but powerful resistance to conflict. If sincerity exists on both sides, there is little to lose in trying this path. In fact, it may be the only approach that allows space for trust to grow without pressure, and for difficult issues to be addressed without fear.
Despite differences in religious practice and some social customs, Indians and Pakistanis often find an easy familiarity when they meet outside political settings. Language, humour, food, family bonds, and everyday concerns create a sense of comfort that feels very natural. Among professionals, students, and expatriate communities, this connection often forms quietly, without effort or agenda.
What holds people back at home is inherited narratives shaped by years of tension and selective memory. Over time, distance becomes a habit, even though everyday experience often shows that people understand one another far more easily than they expect. This quiet contrast reveals something important that the divide between the two societies is sustained less by real difference than by history left unquestioned.
In closing, the responsibility lies with governments in Islamabad and New Delhi to recognise that peace is a practical requirement and history will judge Leadership of both countries by the ability to look beyond inherited fears and focus on the future. Societies, over time, are learning to tell the difference between genuine security and prolonged tension that offers little lasting benefit.
For ordinary citizens on both sides of the border, peace remains the most reliable path to dignity, opportunity, and economic stability. while public on both sides often debate about the cost of conflict, but the point they miss is the cost of normal life that was never lived, and the mutual trade, whether large or small scale, that could not attain any meaningful shape or scale just because borders stayed frozen.
For the region as a whole, it is increasingly clear that prosperity in South Asia cannot be achieved in isolation, and that cooperation, however gradual, is more productive than continued containment.
And finally, Peace does not require idealism but instead maturity and the ability to recognise that strength lies in restraint. History does not demand repetition but only waits to see whether lessons are learned.





