On April 22, 2025, the idyllic town of Pahalgam in Jammu and Kashmir, a place once synonymous with peace and natural beauty, was drenched in the blood of innocents. Twenty-six Indian tourists were brutally gunned down by terrorists in an act of horror that reeked not just of barbarity, but of a well-planned geopolitical message. The typical response followed—condemnations, candlelight vigils, and a recycled blame game pointing squarely at Pakistan. But let’s not be naïve. Let’s not reduce our national security discourse to hollow platitudes and diplomatic clichés. It’s time we ask the uncomfortable question with clarity and courage: Is China the hidden hand behind the Pahalgam terror attack?
For far too long, we’ve been obsessed with Pakistan as the epicentre of terror—and rightly so, considering its history of exporting jihad and radicalism. But in focusing solely on Pakistan, we risk missing the bigger picture. The reality is that the true puppeteer pulling the strings is seated not in Islamabad, but in Beijing. China doesn’t need to fire a single shot to wage war. It does so through proxies, economic entrapment, political manipulation, and covert support to rogue regimes. And in Pakistan, it has found its perfect pawn.
Look closely and you will see the pattern. Every major terror incident in Jammu & Kashmir over the last two years has seen one common denominator: the presence of Chinese-manufactured weapons, encrypted communication gear, and tactical devices in the hands of the terrorists. These aren’t weapons accidentally purchased on the black market. These are tools supplied, funded, or sanctioned through a chain that begins in Beijing, passes through Rawalpindi, and ends in the blood-soaked valleys of Kashmir.
Now combine that with China’s strategic intent. Ever since the Galwan Valley clash in 2020, India has fortified its posture along the LAC. Beijing isn’t comfortable with a strong India guarding its northern front. What better way to force redeployment of Indian troops than to spark unrest and violence in Kashmir? Every time a terror attack happens in the Valley, India has to pull resources, reallocate security forces, and shift focus inward. It is a deliberate pressure tactic—one that China understands, supports, and leverages.
China’s behaviour at the global stage post-Pahalgam reveals more than any weapon cache ever could. Instead of condemning the terror attack in absolute terms, Beijing chose to issue a lukewarm statement urging “restraint” and “dialogue.” Dialogue with whom? The terrorists? Or is it a veiled message to India to not escalate tensions at a time when China wants the world to believe it is a responsible global power? Even worse, China colluded with Pakistan at the United Nations Security Council to water down the official statement on the Pahalgam massacre, removing any direct reference to Pakistani involvement. That is not diplomacy. That is complicity.
What’s even more disturbing is the silence within our own strategic circles. For decades, India has adopted a cautious, almost timid approach to China. We talk trade by day and count coffins by night. We sign MoUs with Chinese firms while burying our soldiers and civilians. This duality must end. National security cannot be compartmentalized. We cannot allow Chinese companies to build our infrastructure while Chinese support enables terrorism that kills our people.
If the Indian establishment truly wants to honour the lives lost in Pahalgam, then it must reorient its lens on terrorism. This is no longer just about Pakistan. This is about a Sino-Pak axis that is hell-bent on keeping India perpetually destabilized, distracted, and divided. Every bullet fired in Kashmir has a trail, and increasingly, that trail is laced with Mandarin characters.
So, what must be done?
First, we need to officially acknowledge the China-Pakistan terror nexus—not just in internal security briefings, but in public, global forums. We need to name and shame China for what it is: an enabler of terrorism in South Asia. Second, we must begin a serious process of economic decoupling. Every smartphone, gadget, or app we import from China is indirectly funding its global ambitions—including its silent war against India. Third, and most importantly, we need to empower our intelligence and covert operations to strike surgically—not just at terrorists, but at the entire network that arms, funds, trains, and shelters them.
Let there be no mistake: the fight ahead is not just about guns and grenades. It is about narratives. It is about the audacity to call out evil, even when it hides behind diplomatic smiles and trade deals. If we shy away now, Pahalgam will not be the last. It will be the beginning of a darker chapter.
As a nation, we must ask ourselves: How many more innocents must die before we stop playing safe? How many more terror attacks must we endure before we confront the dragon in the room?
The blood in Pahalgam has dried, but the wound remains raw. Let us not betray those who lost their lives by settling for another round of empty condemnation. Let us rise, with resolve and clarity, and say it like it is—China may not have pulled the trigger, but it loaded the gun, handed it to its proxy, and watched with cold calculation as India bled.
And now, we must act.
