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. Twenty-eight lives were lost in an attack allegedly carried out by militants linked to groups based across the border. India responded with decisive fury, suspending all bilateral agreements and trade with Pakistan. Pakistan, in turn, reciprocated. In a matter of days, diplomacy between two nuclear-armed neighbors disintegrated.

But the cost of this breakdown is not limited to New Delhi and Islamabad. It reverberates across South Asia—a region already grappling with geopolitical tension, climate stress, economic fragility, and a crisis of cooperation. As India and Pakistan retreat behind hardened borders—politically, economically, and psychologically—South Asia stands at a dangerous crossroads.

The Pahalgam tragedy has reopened wounds that never fully healed. While New Delhi’s anger and Islamabad’s defiance may serve political ends, they come at a steep price for the people on both sides of the border.

Trade, already limited since 2019, has now come to a near-total halt. Cross-border commerce once provided livelihoods for thousands in Punjab, Rajasthan, Sindh, and beyond. Now, supply chains have frozen, informal markets have dried up, and border economies lie in ruins.

However, the disruption isn’t just bilateral. Afghanistan, Nepal and Bangladesh—nations intricately tied to Indo-Pak trade routes—now face rising costs and longer delays for essential goods. In a region where millions already live on the edge of poverty, this freeze isn’t just a diplomatic spat—it’s an economic gut punch. 

And then there’s the Indus Waters Treaty—the rare success story of India-Pakistan diplomacy since 1960. India’s decision to suspend water cooperation 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 tragic terrorist attack in Pahalgam, Kashmir—which claimed the lives of 28 innocent people, including Indian and Nepali tourists—Pakistan has announced the suspension of this decades-old agreement. India has held Pakistan-based militant groups responsible for the attack, escalating tensions between the two nuclear-armed neighbors. This 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 symbolized.

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.

He is a journalist, columnist and analyst of South Asian affairs. He can be reached at emoncolumnist@gmail.com