Missed Opportunity: Nationalism, Kashmir, and Legacy of Conflict
Many observers had hoped that Modi, now in his third term, would pivot toward diplomacy and conclude his political career on a high note.
In the annals of Indian political history, April 24 will be remembered as a defining turning point—a moment when the volatile mix of nationalism, military aggression, and personal ambition culminated in disaster.
It was the day Prime Minister Narendra Modi, a towering figure of both acclaim and controversy, stood at a crossroads. He could have exited the political stage as a seasoned statesman. Instead, through fiery speeches, ill-timed military strikes on Pakistan and Pakistan-administered Kashmir, and their aftermath, he chose a path that led not to glory but to disgrace.
By Altaf Hussain Wani
Modi’s speech in Bihar on that fateful day was nothing short of a masterclass in nationalistic fervour. With emotive language and combative tone, he painted Pakistan not merely as a rival but as an existential enemy.
This brand of rhetoric, though effective in energising his political base, had dangerous implications. It fed a war hysteria that pushed India into perilous terrain. The subsequent military strikes—poorly planned and recklessly executed—resulted in civilian casualties, damage to religious sites, and extensive property loss.
These were not the actions of a global statesman at the helm of the world’s largest democracy; they reflected a leader consumed by a narrow vision of nationalism, willing to forsake diplomacy for spectacle.
Modi’s approach to Kashmir has been a central—and deeply divisive—pillar of his rule. The 2019 revocation of Article 370, which stripped Jammu and Kashmir of its special status, was hailed by his supporters as bold and historic.
But it failed to resolve any of the underlying issues: alienation, political disenfranchisement, and the unaddressed aspirations of the Kashmiri people. Rather than integrate, it deepened the divide.
The ever-increasing military presence, the absence of political dialogue, and an administration that viewed Kashmir through a security lens instead of a human one only fuelled resentment.
Instead of building trust, Modi’s government widened the gulf. April 2025’s strikes reaffirmed what many in the Valley had feared—that they remained pawns in a larger nationalist agenda, collateral damage in a game of power politics.
The strikes themselves, far from projecting strength, unravelled disastrously. The alleged downing of Indian Rafale jets—symbols of India’s modern military edge—by Pakistan’s air force and Israeli drones has exposed critical vulnerabilities in India’s strategic posture. French and Israeli industries have now faced reputational and financial setbacks.
This botched show of force not only cost India its strategic edge but also soured diplomatic relations with key allies. Instead of consolidating India’s image as an emerging global power, it reinforced perceptions of reckless adventurism. The consequences extended beyond defence; they strained trade, diplomacy, and regional stability.
Many observers had hoped that Modi, now in his third term, would pivot toward diplomacy and conclude his political career on a high note. Having emerged from the shadow of the 2002 Gujarat riots—where over 2,000 Muslims were killed—Modi has always walked a tightrope between developmental reformer and ideological hardliner.
The expectation was that he would seek redemption through statesmanship: improving ties with neighbours, initiating a peace process, and softening his image before retiring.
But those hopes proved misplaced. Rather than reconciling, Modi escalated. Instead of healing old wounds, he inflamed them. By doubling down on a militaristic, majoritarian vision, he forwent the chance to redefine his legacy—solidifying instead a reputation built on polarisation and conflict. The irony is stark: a leader who once had the opportunity to unite chose to divide.
His legacy now reflects a troubling duality. On one side are his achievements—economic reforms, infrastructure development, and his role in transforming Gujarat into a model of growth. On the other is a darker portrait: of religious divisiveness, media control, civil liberty erosion, and a foreign policy rooted more in muscle than in maturity.
This dichotomy mirrors the contradictions of contemporary India—a democracy defined by diversity yet increasingly strained by a narrow ideological narrative. Modi had the platform and the power to bridge this divide, to transcend the ghosts of his past. But instead of healing, he has chosen to haunt.
The events of April 2025 serve as a cautionary tale about the dangers of unchecked nationalism and the dire costs of missed diplomatic opportunities. Modi’s rise from controversy to command, and his fall into miscalculation, offer important lessons for future leadership—not just in India but globally. When leaders put personal ambition and populist fervour above long-term peace, the result is neither glory nor greatness, but regret and reckoning.
As India looks ahead, it must search for leaders who value statesmanship over soundbites, unity over ideology, and peace over provocation. In the context of Kashmir, any lasting solution must begin with empathy, political dialogue, and a commitment to justice. The people of the Valley must no longer be seen as adversaries or symbols, but as citizens whose voices matter.
India’s future will not be secured by missiles or speeches—but by vision, humility, and the courage to choose reconciliation over revenge. For Modi, that choice has already been made—and the legacy, sealed.