Twentytwo13

Frozen in conflict: Understanding the enduring India-Pakistan hostility and rivalry in the 21st century

Crowd at the Wagah Border where Indian and Pakistani border personnel face off in an entertaining manner.

The relationship between India and Pakistan has long been marked by tension, suspicion and hostility. More than seven decades after the partition of British India in 1947, the two countries remain locked in one of the world’s most enduring and dangerous rivalries.

At the heart of this conflict is the long-disputed region of Jammu and Kashmir, a place of breathtaking beauty and heartbreaking strife. Here, the aspirations of people are often buried beneath military checkpoints, artillery exchanges and nationalist rhetoric.

The issue of Kashmir is more than just a border disagreement. For Pakistan, it represents unfinished business from the painful events of 1947 – a matter of identity and justice. For India, it is a test of sovereignty and national unity. Both nations have staked so much on this land that any notion of compromise feels, to their governments, like defeat.

Over the years, this rigid mindset has only deepened, turning each crisis into a flashpoint and every diplomatic effort into a missed opportunity.

The most recent confrontation in May 2025 once again laid bare the fragility of peace in the region. Fighting broke out along the Line of Control, reportedly involving not just troops and artillery but also fighter jets and drone surveillance. Dozens of soldiers were killed, and civilians fled their homes in fear.

Pakistan claimed military success, including the downing of several Indian jets. India remained silent on those claims, focusing instead on shoring up its national security narrative. For those on the ground – particularly the people of Kashmir – the battle brought more destruction, more grief and a renewed sense of helplessness.

This conflict is not just about territorial claims or battlefield wins. Over time, it has become tangled in global geopolitics. In the Cold War era, Pakistan aligned itself with the United States and China, while India, though officially non-aligned, leaned towards the Soviet Union.

Today, those alliances have evolved but the divide remains. India has grown closer to the United States, especially through economic and defence cooperation. Meanwhile, Pakistan’s deepening ties with China – especially through the China–Pakistan Economic Corridor – have become a source of tension for New Delhi.

As India rises on the global stage economically, militarily and diplomatically, Pakistan often sees its influence shrinking. This imbalance feeds insecurity and fuels fears of encirclement. India’s partnerships in the Gulf, Central Asia and even Afghanistan have raised alarms in Islamabad, which believes New Delhi is working to isolate it.

In response, Pakistan has turned to asymmetric tactics, supporting certain groups and proxy networks as a way to keep the balance. India views this as a direct threat and has responded forcefully with airstrikes and diplomatic pressure. Each side believes it is defending itself – and each sees the other as the aggressor.

Accusations of terrorism remain a particularly painful and divisive issue. India has consistently blamed Pakistan for harbouring groups responsible for attacks on Indian soil, including the 2008 Mumbai attacks and the 2019 Pulwama bombing.

Pakistan, in turn, accuses India of meddling in its internal affairs and supporting unrest in regions like Balochistan. While both governments deny wrongdoing, the cycle of blame and retaliation has only made things worse. Trust has eroded to the point where even basic dialogue seems impossible.

Here lies the paradox – despite decades of hostility and rivalry, both nations seem to suffer from mental amnesia, a recurring forgetfulness that blinds policymakers to the lessons of previous conflicts. Past opportunities for peace are forgotten as each new generation returns to the same hardened stances.

What makes the conflict even more tragic is the human cost, too often ignored in political debates. For the people of Kashmir, peace is not an abstract concept. It means sleeping without fear of shelling, going to school without checkpoints, and living without constant surveillance and militarisation.

Year after year, those hopes are dashed. Each escalation – whether on the battlefield or through political decisions – brings more trauma and deepens the sense of isolation.

The 2025 battle did not end when the shooting stopped. It spilled over into the diplomatic and economic realms. India took steps to isolate Pakistan by targeting companies and countries that expressed support for its rival.

In one case, a Turkish company was forced to shut down its operations in India following a statement by Turkey critical of Indian actions in Kashmir. This signals a broader shift in strategy – conflict today is no longer limited to the military front. It plays out in trade deals, UN votes and global perception battles.

This reflects the dangers of neighbourly behaviour turning hostile – a pattern in which suspicion, provocation and retaliation become the norm between nuclear-armed states. Rather than diplomacy or mutual respect, the default is often blame and hostility.

In such a setting, even goodwill gestures are interpreted as traps. The relationship has become defined not by cooperation but by confrontation.

The rivalry also casts a long shadow over the entire South Asian region. Both India and Pakistan are nuclear powers, and even a minor skirmish carries with it the terrifying possibility of escalation. The arms race continues, draining resources from development, healthcare and education.

Regional cooperation, already fragile, suffers. The South Asian Association for Regional Cooperation (SAARC) is virtually paralysed by the Indo–Pakistani divide. Crucial issues like climate change, disaster preparedness and economic integration go unaddressed as the focus remains locked on confrontation.

External powers add another layer of complexity. China’s relationship with Pakistan gives it strategic leverage against India, which is already engaged in a tense border standoff with Beijing. India’s growing ties with the West reflect a different set of priorities.

These opposing alliances create a climate where regional diplomacy is harder, not easier. Every step forward is viewed with suspicion, and opportunities for cooperation are quickly lost in the fog of geopolitics.

Despite multiple attempts over the decades – from peace summits to back-channel talks – the conflict remains what many analysts call a frozen conflict. It is not an active war, yet never a lasting peace. It simmers, sometimes erupts, but never truly ends.

The same issues resurface with new actors but old arguments. The battlefield may shift from the mountains of Kashmir to the corridors of the UN, but the hostility remains unchanged.

Adding to the difficulty is the powerful role the military plays in both countries. In Pakistan, the army has long had dominant influence over foreign policy and national security. In India, the military’s presence in Kashmir and emphasis on force over dialogue has made civilian-led diplomacy harder to achieve.

These institutional dynamics mean that even when political leaders wish to engage, they may be constrained by deeper structural forces.

Ultimately, this is not just a story of two governments at odds. It is about two nations shaped by fear, pride and trauma. It is about people – especially in Kashmir – trapped in the crossfire, waiting for a peace that never comes. The current path offers only more of the same: tension, militarisation and missed chances.

Yet, the costs of inaction are growing. Without renewed efforts to engage in sincere dialogue, backed by political courage and international support, the region will continue to drift toward deeper instability.

The people of South Asia deserve better than perpetual hostility. They deserve a future where borders are not lines of fire, and where diplomacy replaces distrust. Peace is not easy – but it is necessary.

Brigadier General Datuk Saipol Anuar Jaafar is a member of the Malaysian Army and currently attending the National Resilience Course in PUSPAHANAS, Putrajaya.

The views expressed here are the personal opinion of the writer and do not necessarily represent that of Twentytwo13.