Qamar Bashir
In the wake of India’s recent missile strikes on Pakistan—targeting nine sites, including
mosques and civilian infrastructure—the balance of power in South Asia has been
dramatically disrupted. While Indian media boasted of its precision strikes, an alternative
and far more consequential narrative emerged from within India itself. Eyewitnesses,
social media users, and independent sources reported the downing of five Indian fighter
jets, including three Rafale aircraft—France’s most advanced export fighters, considered
the pride of the Indian Air Force.
If confirmed through independent validation, the loss of these highly sophisticated jets
would constitute a military and symbolic setback far greater than the one India sustained
during the 2019 Balakot episode. Unlike that episode—where a MiG-21 was shot down
and its pilot captured—this time the aircraft were reportedly destroyed without even
crossing into Pakistani airspace. The destruction of these jets within Indian territory
marks a devastating blow to India’s aerial supremacy, while simultaneously showcasing
the evolving technological edge of Pakistan’s defense apparatus.
According to local accounts, defense analysts and independent reports the Indian jets lost
communication with ground control and each other mid-flight, with their navigation and
command systems abruptly disabled. Strikingly, mobile networks in areas surrounding
the incident reportedly collapsed, hinting at a broader electromagnetic jamming
operation—a capability rarely demonstrated so visibly in the subcontinent.
This capacity, analysts suggest, stems from Pakistan’s historical partnership with the
United States. During the Cold War and especially the post-9/11 War on Terror, Pakistan
served as a frontline state and a major non-NATO ally. In this role, it received extensive
U.S. training, funding, and technology to jam and intercept militant communications
across the Afghan border. Over time, Pakistan’s Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI) and
military have mastered and localized these tools. Now, that expertise appears to have
been redirected toward conventional military threats—with extraordinary results.
The most strategically alarming element for India is that these aircraft were reportedly
neutralized within its own territory. This defies conventional engagement rules and
shatters the illusion of sanctuary previously associated with Indian airspace. Pakistan’s
capability to inflict such damage without physically breaching Indian skies gives
Islamabad a decisive psychological and operational edge.
Furthermore, this development underscores India’s vulnerability in future conflicts.
Despite extensive modernization and foreign defense procurements, including the
multibillion-dollar Rafale deal with France, India’s air defense systems failed to protect
its assets from remote disablement and destruction. That vulnerability, exposed by
Pakistan without escalation into full-blown war, may trigger a long-term reassessment of
India’s military readiness and aerial strategy.
India’s initial missile strikes, while lethal—killing at least 28 civilians and damaging
religious sanctuaries—have now been counterbalanced by Pakistan’s tactical retaliation.
The destruction of five premier aircraft, particularly the Rafales, serves as both military
deterrent and political message. It reflects a sophisticated and proportionate response:
Pakistan absorbed the blow, demonstrated capability, and reclaimed initiative—without
overstepping into recklessness.
But Islamabad has not yet retaliated with a missile strike of its own. Instead, it has opted
for a strategic pause, allowing the psychological pressure to build within Indian corridors
of power. This calculated restraint serves multiple goals: it signals maturity, garners
international respect, and keeps India in a constant state of anticipation, with its armed
forces on high alert—an expensive and exhausting condition to maintain.
This waiting game has gripped India’s leadership, military, and public. Every hour that
Pakistan delays its next move deepens Indian anxiety. Troop deployments remain on
standby. Fighter jets scramble at false alarms. Decision-makers face mounting political
and public pressure to either escalate or retreat.
The paralysis is palpable. For India, this is a worst-case scenario: an adversary that has
drawn blood, seized momentum, and now holds the power to dictate the tempo of
conflict. With the memory of five aircraft incinerated on home soil, Indian morale is
visibly shaken.
Should Pakistan decide to launch a missile-based counterstrike, it is expected to avoid
areas like East Punjab—home to India’s Sikh population and the Khalistan movement.
Pakistan is unlikely to target regions sympathetic to separatist causes, particularly given
its longstanding rhetorical and diplomatic support for Sikh self-determination. Instead,
deeper strikes into India’s urban and military infrastructure are on the table. Major
command centers, weapons depots, or intelligence facilities linked to anti-Pakistan
operations—such as alleged support for BLA militants or anti-state actors in
Balochistan—are possible targets.
Pakistan’s security apparatus has long accused Indian agents, including those like
Kulbhushan Jadhav, of fostering instability through direct support of the Baloch
insurgency and Pakistan-based terror cells. Any retaliatory operation by Pakistan may
therefore be framed not just as strategic but also as counter-terrorist in nature—seeking to
dismantle what Islamabad sees as India’s covert war within Pakistani borders.
In this fragile equilibrium, nuclear deterrence plays a silent but powerful role. Both India
and Pakistan maintain credible second-strike capabilities. However, analysts believe that
tactical nuclear superiority, particularly in battlefield-ready deployments, now lies with
Pakistan. This asymmetry reinforces the perception that any large-scale conflict would
end in mutually assured destruction, dissuading India from escalating beyond
conventional limits.
Yet, the downing of aircraft without resorting to nuclear signaling gives Pakistan a new
avenue of response—one that is potent yet non-apocalyptic. It affirms that Islamabad can
punish aggression without inviting global alarm, thus reclaiming space for calibrated,
tech-driven deterrence.
With each passing hour, the strategic pendulum swings further in Pakistan’s favor.
India’s rash missile strike—perhaps meant to bolster domestic support or avenge
perceived slights—has now backfired spectacularly. Its air force lies bruised, its political
elite cornered, and its public haunted by uncertainty. Meanwhile, Pakistan’s decision to
delay a missile-based counterattack, while visibly preparing for it, has turned this into a
psychological siege.
The question now is not if, but when Pakistan will strike—and how deeply. By choosing
the right moment, possibly when India lowers its guard or assumes the storm has passed,
Pakistan can deliver a blow that not only balances the score but teaches a lasting lesson.
One that redefines red lines, reasserts strategic parity, and restores deterrence in a volatile
region where perception often defines reality.
Until then, India waits—nervously, restlessly, sleeplessly—for Pakistan’s next move.
Writer is Press Secretary to the President (Rtd)
Former Press Minister at Embassy of Pakistan to France
Former MD, SRBC
Macomb, Detroit, Michigan, USA
