Fifty-nine Indian eminences are currently on a global junket, members of seven ‘all party delegations’ (each including several Members of Parliament, a serving or retired diplomat and a liaison officer), to elaborate on India’s stand on Pakistan-sponsored terrorism and to ‘rally global support’ for India’s counter-terrorism efforts, in the wake of Operation Sindoor and the Pahalgam massacre. It is unlikely that the public will ever learn how much this exercise is costing the taxpayer, and the government will certainly declare it a famous success once it is over.
Some skeptical commentators have, however, described this propaganda spree as too little too late. It is not. It is, in fact, too much too soon.
The profiles of the members of these delegations do not suggest that they have been selected for their particular and exceptional knowledge of the subject at hand. Reports trickling in indicate that at least some of the activities they are engaging in would not be easy to reconcile with the gravity of their undertaking; but even where they are fully and earnestly engaged in their duties, it is evident that they have not been adequately equipped to serve the ends to which they have been tasked. By and large, the presentations they are making to other world leaders—though mostly to the second line, or lower, of leadership—are based on the present rhetorical positions of the Government of India, and add little to the body of ‘evidence’ that could noticeably shift perceptions. As with much of what India does, this is little more than a knee-jerk response to transient perceptions of current crises.
If global perceptions are, in fact, to be altered, much more than such performative engagements in the wake of a crisis will be needed. A steady campaign, based on the build-up of hard evidence, is required. India has, in the past, produced occasional ‘dossiers’ on Pakistan’s role in terrorism on Indian soil—and these have had an impact on the limited circles in which they have been circulated. But such inputs have been quite sporadic, and their impact rather transient.
One may argue that there is ample evidence of Pakistani malfeasance generally available, and that countries that cry out for ‘evidence’ do so, not because there is a real lack thereof, but because their own calculus of ‘interests’ prevents them from acknowledging what is in plain sight. This is certainly and often the case. Intelligence and security communities across the world are well aware of Pakistan’s wide footprint, not only on terrorism in India, but across the world. India, moreover, has counter-terrorism intelligence sharing agreements with many of the most prominent countries that have remained ambivalent with regard to India’s position on the current contretemps with Pakistan.
Pakistan-backed terrorism is a lived reality for us in India. But for most countries across the world, this is a faraway wrangle between two poorly understood, quarrelsome neighbours who have—as Donald Trump expressed it with profound ignorance—“been fighting for 1,000 years.” While Trump may be a poor example, the reality is that general awareness of realities in the South Asian region remains poor, and can be assessed even in the writings of purported Western ‘specialists’ in the field, most of who rely on secondary—again primarily Western—sources. If this magnitude of ignorance is to be addressed, it requires continuous application, a steady inflow of information, evidence and assessment, widely disseminated to create a cumulative impact that makes denial a visible act of dishonesty.
India has no such processes in place—and strident social media ‘narratives’ are no substitute. Worse, Indian diplomats, with insufficient information, tend to alternate between obsequiousness and prickly arrogance, and have gradually isolated themselves across much of the world. External Affairs Minister S Jaishankar is himself a case in point, and his public snubs and clever retorts, much appreciated by the Indian media, have deepened this isolation. Ambiguity is the essence and art of diplomacy; it is best to leave bluntness and combativeness to the soldier.
Alvin Toffler once noted, “If you don’t have a strategy, you’re part of someone else’s strategy… if we do not change the future, we shall be compelled to endure it.” Through the many crises that confront us—and those that have confronted us in the past—India has rarely given the impression of being architect and engineer. We have endured what others have inflicted; rarely have we been adequately prepared; and we have simply responded as best we can. Given our size and inherent strengths, we have sometimes prevailed, especially and usually against weaker adversaries, or have learned to live with the humiliation of being bested by one stronger. If our perspectives are to dominate in the present crisis, they will need to be located in a strategic context, and backed by a well-resourced and long-term programme to gradually shape—and not simply force through the sheer loudness of a short-lived and largely incoherent campaign—international opinion.