By Emran Emon:
When gunfire shattered the serenity of Pahalgam, Kashmir, on April 22, it wasn’t just a brutal act of terror—it was a spark that reignited a decades-old fire. At least 26 lives were cut short in an attack allegedly carried out by militants linked to groups based across the border.
A statement issued in the name of The Resistance Front (TRF), which is believed to be a proxy of the Pakistani-based Lashkar-e-Taiba militant group, claimed responsibility for the deadliest such attack in a quarter-century in India-administered Kashmir.
India responded with decisive fury, suspending all bilateral agreements and trade with Pakistan and withdrawing from the Indus Water Sharing Treaty. Pakistan, in turn, retaliated stating that stopping water flow would constitute “an act of war” and put in place countermeasures, including closing airspace.
In a matter of days, the relationship between the two nuclear-armed neighbours nosedived. According to Agency France-Presse, on Friday, April 25, troops from India and Pakistan reportedly exchanged fire overnight across the line of control in disputed Kashmir, after the UN urged the nuclear-armed rivals to show “maximum restraint.”
But the cost of this breakdown, and what lies ahead, is not limited to New Delhi and Islamabad. It reverberates across South Asia—a region already grappling with geopolitical tension, climate change, economic fragility, and a crisis of cooperation.
As India and Pakistan retreat behind hardened borders—politically, economically, and psychologically—South Asia stands at dangerous crossroads. The Pahalgam massacre has reopened wounds that never fully healed. India and Pakistan have shared a history of territorial dispute over Kashmir.
Trade, already limited since 2019, has now come to a near-total halt. Pakistan announced the suspension of trade, including through third countries, and India shut down the Attari-Wagah land border, which has been key for the movement of goods and supply chains.
However, the disruption isn’t just bilateral. Afghanistan, Nepal and Bangladesh—nations intricately tied to Indo-Pakidtan trade routes—now face rising costs and longer delays for essential goods.
In a region where millions already live on the edge of poverty, the spillovers from worsening tensions have the potential of negatively impacting not only the diplomatic, but also the economic health of the region.
The Indus Waters Treaty and Simla Agreement are the rare success stories of India-Pakistan diplomacy since 1960. India’s decision to suspend water cooperation and Pakistan’s response introduces an alarming new dimension.
Water, the one shared resource that both countries depend on, is now a political weapon. If rivers become pawns in this conflict, agriculture in Pakistan could suffer catastrophic losses, with regional consequences that ripple well beyond the fields of Punjab.
On the contrary, The Simla Agreement, signed in 1972 between India and Pakistan, was a foundational accord aimed at fostering peaceful dialogue and resolving disputes through bilateral means, particularly over the sensitive issue of Kashmir.
In light of the recent terrorist attack in Pahalgam, Kashmir—which claimed innocent lives of Indian and and including a Nepali tourist—Pakistan has announced the suspension of this decades-old agreement.
The key outcome of the treaty was that both countries would “settle their differences by peaceful means through bilateral negotiations.” Pakistan’s suspension not only marks a significant setback in diplomatic relations but also threatens the broader vision of regional peace and cooperation that the Simla Agreement once symbolised.
Cross-border families—especially in Kashmir—are cut off again. Students who once dreamed of international exchange programs are left with nationalist textbooks. Artists, thinkers, journalists, and peacebuilders find themselves vilified for advocating dialogue. Fear has replaced familiarity in this regard. Nationalist rhetoric, amplified by social media algorithms, is narrowing the public imagination. The next generation is being shaped not by shared history or collective goals, but by suspicion and polarization.
This region, home to nearly 2 billion people, cannot afford the consequence of eternal enmity. We face common enemies: poverty, rising sea levels, water scarcity, food insecurity, climate crisis, and a youth unemployment crisis.
The collapse of diplomatic ties between India and Pakistan has rendered SAARC, South Asia’s premier regional forum, nearly obsolete. Multilateral efforts on climate, health, and economic integration are now on indefinite hold.
While other regions are building economic corridors and digital bridges, South Asia is retreating into old trenches. It’s a tragic irony: just when the region needs unity the most, it is fragmenting faster than ever.
The question may arise: Is there a way to forward? The answer is—Yes. But it requires political courage, reciprocal cooperation, and civic imagination.
First, both countries must reopen discreet backchannels. Diplomacy doesn’t always require public fanfare. Quiet dialogue can de-escalate tensions, prevent miscalculations, and create space for future breakthroughs.
Second, a joint anti-terrorism mechanism, possibly monitored by neutral observers, could address India’s security concerns while maintaining a framework for accountability.
Third, humanitarian issues—especially water, disaster relief, and public health—must remain apolitical. There is room for cooperation, even in crisis.
Fourth, civil society must reclaim its space. Peacebuilding doesn’t start with treaties; it starts with conversations. Artists, educators, journalists, intellectuals, entrepreneurs, and students can collaborate across digital platforms, building connections that outlast political cycles.
And eventually, regional powers like Bangladesh and Nepal can play a bridging role in this regard. South Asia must learn from ASEAN and the African Union—where diplomacy often transcends bilateral hostilities.
The Pahalgam attack was not just a moment of horror—it was a test. A test of whether we would allow terrorism to dictate our future. Whether old grudges would triumph over shared humanity. India and Pakistan don’t have to become friends overnight. But they must become responsible neighbors. The people of South Asia—caught in the crossfire of failed diplomacy—deserve nothing less.
The Pahalgam attack was a tragic and deeply painful event, one that must never be forgotten. But the response to tragedy should not be the perpetuation of conflict. For India and Pakistan—nuclear-armed neighbors with deep historical wounds and shared cultural roots—peace is not a luxury, but a necessity.
The suspension of all bilateral ties is not an endgame, but a dangerous pause. It is vital for leaders and citizens alike to rise above immediate anger and grief and to seek a future where such attacks are unthinkable, and their perpetrators face united justice.
For the people of Kashmir, for South Asia’s economic stability, and for global security, this is a defining moment. What we choose now—further isolation or inclusive collaboration—will determine the future not only of two nations but of an entire region poised between division and unity.
Emran Emon is a researcher, journalist and columnist.
He can be reached at emoncolumnist@gmail.com