When 40 paramilitary soldiers were killed in Pulwama in February 2019, India mourned. It
also voted.
Just two months later, Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) secured a sweeping electoral victory. National grief had transformed into national resolve, and that resolve found expression at the ballot box. Modi had adeptly converted a security crisis into an electoral triumph.
Over the past 15 years, India has faced repeated terrorist attacks—Mumbai in 2008, Pulwama in 2019, and Pahalgam in 2025. Each time, the BJP has emerged politically stronger. While these attacks are perpetrated by foreign militants the political aftermath follows a predictable and troubling script: escalate rhetoric, invoke nationalism, marginalize Muslims, and capitalize on the wave to secure electoral gains.
This is not a critique of defending national security—it is a critique of exploiting national tragedy. The line between protection and politicization has dangerously blurred.
In 2019, Pulwama shifted the national conversation from economic distress to a nation under siege. Modi’s declaration—“Ghar mein ghus ke marenge” (We’ll strike them in their homes)—served more as a campaign slogan than a military doctrine. The retaliatory airstrikes on Balakot were widely publicized, reinforcing Modi’s image as a decisive leader. He appeared at rallies with military backdrops, and BJP ministers accused opposition leaders of being pro-Pakistan for merely questioning the government’s actions.
It worked. Surveys indicated that “national security” had overtaken unemployment and inflation as the top voter concern. The BJP surged to a 303-seat majority in Parliament.
This year, in April 2025, a similar pattern followed the Pahalgam attack. Twenty-six civilians were killed in a bombing linked to The Resistance Front (TRF), a militant outfit. Within days, the Modi government suspended clauses of the Indus Waters Treaty and expelled Pakistani diplomats. Border tensions escalated. So did the BJP’s approval ratings, just ahead of state elections in Bihar and Maharashtra.
Online, familiar hate campaigns resurfaced. Right-wing influencers flooded platforms with calls to boycott Muslim businesses. Local BJP officials delivered speeches implying Muslim disloyalty. The official messaging never explicitly blamed Indian Muslims—but the dog whistles were loud enough for anyone to hear.
The Mumbai attacks of 2008, while predating Modi’s premiership, laid the foundation for this strategy. Back then, the Congress-led government was criticized for being “soft” on terror. Modi, as Gujarat’s chief minister, gave fiery speeches calling for “decisive leadership.” It wasn’t just about national defense; it was about framing political opposition as a security risk. That strategy came of age in 2014—and matured with Pulwama.
Of course, terrorism—especially cross-border militancy—remains a serious threat. But when each incident is followed by a carefully choreographed political response, we must ask: Are these actions rooted in a coherent national security strategy, or are they crafted primarily for electoral gain?
The pattern is clear. Real attacks by foreign actors are followed by real political gain for the ruling party. It’s not conspiracy—it’s opportunism. And it’s being used to reshape Indian identity from a pluralist democracy to a majoritarian project.
Nowhere is the human cost more visible than in the lives of India’s 200 million Muslims. In the wake of Pulwama, Kashmiri students were harassed and assaulted across the country. Following the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA) protests in 2020, numerous Muslim activists were detained under sweeping anti-terror laws. And now, after the Pahalgam attack, a familiar pattern has returned: a spike in hate speech, incidents of discrimination, and calls for social and economic boycotts—often amplified online and echoed in political rhetoric.
Representation is shrinking too. In 2024, only 24 Muslims were elected to Parliament—just 4.4% of the Lok Sabha in a country where Muslims form over 15% of the population. The BJP fielded almost no Muslim candidates. And it isn’t just political exclusion—Muslims face higher rates of housing discrimination, unemployment, and hate crimes, according to multiple studies, including data from India Hate Lab. Critics may argue that strong responses to terror are necessary. Fair enough. But when that strength repeatedly targets a minority community—directly or by implication—it ceases to be leadership. It becomes a performance of power.
India has always faced the challenge of protecting its borders without turning its citizens against one another. The Constitution is unambiguous: the Republic belongs to all. Yet today, the political reward system appears rigged in favor of fear. Terror strikes are no longer just national tragedies—they have become stages for nationalist theater. Real security concerns are increasingly exploited to stoke religious polarization, especially against India’s Muslim minority.
This cycle is troubling not only for India’s democracy but for the broader region. From across the border, the response is not schadenfreude—it is alarm. Terrorism is not a one-sided affliction. In 2024 alone, nearly 1,600 civilians and security personnel were killed in terrorist attacks across Pakistan—the highest toll in six years. These were not abstract statistics: markets, mosques, schools, and homes were shattered. Every community, every city has felt the weight of extremist violence.
In light of this shared suffering, it is both unrealistic and deeply counterproductive for India to reduce terrorism to a political narrative of blame. Weaponizing tragedy for electoral gain may serve short-term political interests, but it undermines the possibility of a long-term regional response to a common enemy. Tit-for-tat strategies inflame public sentiment, spread hatred, and entrench hostility between two nuclear-armed neighbors who should instead be pursuing intelligence cooperation and peacebuilding.
This isn’t just about Modi or the BJP. It’s about the future of a regional power with global ambitions—and the danger of normalizing a politics that thrives on division. The rest of the world—and South Asia in particular—should be paying attention. Not out of rivalry, but out of concern.
Because when nationalism trumps humanity, it is not only democracy that withers. It is peace itself that becomes collateral.
Asad Ullah
Asad Ullah is a Ph.D. scholar at Shandong University, specializing in Middle Eastern politics and great power influence in the region. His research explores geopolitical dynamics, conflicts, and external actors’ roles in shaping the Middle East.
