The Palagam Valley Attack: A Nation's Anguish and Resolve

The Baisaran Valley

On April 22, India was once again confronted with the blood-soaked reality of terrorism. In the serene Palagam Valley — a place where tourists flock to embrace the breath taking beauty of our land — terror struck in the most brutal, inhumane way imaginable. Armed terrorists, hiding like cowards, unleashed a targeted killing spree, singling out innocent men and murdering them without mercy, in front of their wives and children.

The brutality was chillingly methodical. The terrorists conducted selective ID checks, specifically targeting Hindus. In some horrifying cases, they forced victims to recite the Kalma — a direct attempt to humiliate, terrorise, and divide. Those who could not comply were gunned down in cold blood. This was not merely murder; it was a calculated act of religious persecution, a hate crime designed to rip apart India's social fabric.

Yet even in this darkness, there was light. Amidst the chaos, a brave Kashmiri man — Syed Adil Hussain Shah — sacrificed himself to protect others. Without regard for his own safety, he confronted the attackers, buying precious moments for fellow civilians to escape. In the face of certain death, he chose courage.

This tragedy also exposes a shameful security failure and a gross dereliction of duty by the BJP-led government. For a government that boasts of a strong national security stance, the Palagam attack stands as a devastating indictment. Allowing hundreds of tourists to gather in a sensitive, high-risk area without adequate security is simply inexcusable. Lapses in intelligence, a breakdown in communication, and negligence in securing a known vulnerable zone have justifiably enraged the nation.

Adding insult to injury, Pakistan’s Deputy Prime Minister shamelessly referred to the terrorists as “freedom fighters” — a vile, disgraceful statement that spits on the memory of the innocent dead. Their Defence Minister’s casual admission that Pakistan funded terrorist groups in the past further exposes the moral rot festering in their establishment. It is a brazen insult to the civilised world and a grim reminder of the evil we are up against.

To make matters worse, Pakistan’s Army Chief delivered a speech just days earlier, openly endorsing the so-called "two-nation theory" — the discredited, poisonous ideology that partitioned the subcontinent in 1947. Let it be said loudly and clearly: Indians — Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs, Christians, Jains, Buddhists — are one people. We are not separate "nations." No bigot, whether it was Jinnah, Savarkar, or anyone else, can erase the deep, ancient ties that bind us together as Indians. Partition was not an inevitability of history; it was a tragedy forced upon us by division, hatred, and colonial manipulation. Today, Pakistan's military establishment clings to this broken, hateful theory to justify its existence. But the truth is plain for all to see: India remains one nation, one civilisation, unbroken and united.

Kashmir is an inseparable part of India — by history, by law, and by the will of its people. It is Pakistan that has illegally occupied parts of Kashmir, brutally suppressing the rights of the people in areas like Gilgit-Baltistan and so-called Azad Kashmir. They have no legitimacy, no moral standing to speak of "freedom" while oppressing and silencing the very Kashmiris they pretend to champion. Their endless propaganda cannot change historical reality: Kashmir chose India. Kashmir is India. No amount of cross-border terrorism or false narratives will alter that truth.

What is equally outrageous is how much of the international media has responded. Once again, instead of calling out terrorism for what it is, many outlets have resorted to euphemisms, describing the murderers as "militants" or "gunmen." These are not "militants"; they are terrorists. This persistent whitewashing — this softening of savagery — dishonours the victims and distorts the truth. Language matters. It shapes perception. When media organisations refuse to call terrorists by their rightful name, they enable moral ambiguity where there should be none.

India is seething. We are mourning. We are demanding justice. No Indian — regardless of political belief — can look at what happened in Palagam and not feel a deep, burning rage. The demand for accountability, for justice, for decisive action, is growing louder by the hour.

Yet, amid this fury, a dangerous undercurrent is emerging: the rise of communal hatred. Some elements have begun unfairly blaming all Muslims for the attack — precisely the poisonous division the terrorists sought to sow. We must remember: terrorists have no religion. Every Indian — Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, Christian, or otherwise — stands united against terror. The blood spilled in Palagam belongs to all of us. We must not allow hatred to tear apart the very soul of India.

In a historic and grave move, India has suspended the Indus Water Treaty, signalling a willingness to escalate pressure on Pakistan beyond diplomatic channels. Conversations about further action — including military options — are gaining momentum. While no sane person desires war, because war brings suffering and devastation, India cannot and will not remain silent in the face of such barbarity.

We hope tensions ease. We hope diplomacy prevails. But let it be known: if you attack us — if you spill Indian blood — there will be a response.

Palagam is a wound that will not heal easily. We owe it to the victims to ensure their sacrifice is remembered, and that justice is delivered.

Jai Hind.