Two nuclear powers are shooting at each other. They are playing with fire
The armies of India and Pakistan often exchange fire across
the front line in the disputed state of Kashmir. When tensions
rise, one side will subject the other to a blistering artillery
barrage. On occasion, the two have sent soldiers on forays into
one another’s territory. But since the feuding neighbours tested
nuclear weapons in the late 1990s, neither had dared send fighter
jets across the frontier—until this week. After a terrorist group
based in Pakistan launched an attack in the Indian-controlled
part of Kashmir that killed 40 soldiers, India responded by
bombing what it said was a terrorist training camp in the Pakistani
state of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa. Pakistan retaliated by sending
jets of its own to bomb Indian targets. In the ensuing air battle,
both sides claim to have shot down the other’s aircraft, and
Pakistan captured an Indian pilot.
A miscalculation now could spell calamity. The fighting is already
the fiercest between the two countries since India battled
to expel Pakistani intruders from high in the Himalayas in 1999.
The initial Indian air raid struck not Pakistan’s bit of Kashmir,
but well within Pakistan proper and just 100km from the capital,
Islamabad. That, in effect, constituted a change in the rules of
engagement between the two (see Briefing). India and Pakistan
are so often at odds that there is a tendency to shrug off their
spats, but not since their most recent, full-blown war in 1971 has
the risk of escalation been so high.
The intention of Narendra Modi, India’s
prime minister, in ordering the original air
strike was simple. Pakistan has long backed terrorists
who mount grisly attacks in India, most
notably in Mumbai in 2008, when jihadists who
arrived by boat from Pakistan killed some 165
people. Although Pakistan’s army promised
then to shut down such extremist groups, it has
not. By responding more forcefully than usual to the latest outrage,
Mr Modi understandably wanted to signal that he was not
willing to allow Pakistan to keep sponsoring terrorism.
In the long run, stability depends on Pakistan ending its indefensible
support for terrorism. Its prime minister, Imran Khan,
is urging dialogue and, in a promising gesture, was due to release
India’s pilot—presumably with the approval of the army chief,
who calls the shots on matters of security.
But in the short run Mr Modi shares the responsibility to stop
a disastrous escalation. Because he faces an election in April, he
faces the hardest and most consequential calculations. They
could come to define his premiership.
Mr Modi has always presented himself as a bold and resolute
military leader, who does not shrink from confronting Pakistan’s
provocations. He has taken to repeating a catchphrase from the
film “Uri”, which portrays a commando raid he ordered against
Pakistan in 2016 in response to a previous terrorist attack as a
moment of chin-jutting grit. The all-too-plausible fear is that his
own tendency to swagger, along with domestic political pressures,
will spur him further down the spiral towards war.
The ambiguity of Mr Modi’s beliefs only deepens the danger.
He campaigned at the election in 2014 as a moderniser, who
would bring jobs and prosperity to India. But, his critics charge,
all his talk of development and reform is simply the figleaf for a
lifelong commitment to a divisive Hindu-nationalist agenda.
Over the past five years Mr Modi has lived up neither to the
hype nor to the dire warnings. The economy has grown strongly
under his leadership, by around 7% a year. He has brought about
reforms his predecessors had promised but never delivered,
such as a nationwide goods-and-services tax (gst).
But unemployment has actually risen during Mr Modi’s tenure,
according to leaked data that his government has been accused
of trying to suppress (see Finance section). The gst was
needlessly complex and costly to administer. Other pressing reforms
have fallen by the wayside. India’s banks are still largely in
state hands, still prone to lend to the well-connected. And as the
election has drawn closer, Mr Modi has resorted to politically expedient
policies that are likely to harm the economy. His government
hounded the boss of the central bank out of office for keeping
interest rates high, appointing a replacement who promptly
cut them. And it has unveiled draft rules that would protect domestic
e-commerce firms from competition from retailers such
as Amazon.
By the same token, Mr Modi has not sparked the outright
communal conflagration his critics, The Economist included,
fretted about before he became prime minister. But his government
has often displayed hostility to India’s
Muslim minority and sympathy for those who
see Hinduism—the religion of 80% of Indians—
as under threat from internal and external
foes. He has appointed a bigoted Hindu prelate,
Yogi Adityanath, as chief minister of India’s
most populous state, Uttar Pradesh. A member
of his cabinet presented garlands of flowers to a
group of Hindu men who had been convicted of
lynching a Muslim for selling beef (cows are sacred to Hindus).
And Mr Modi himself has suspended the elected government of
Jammu & Kashmir, India’s only Muslim-majority state, and used
force to suppress protests there against the central government,
leading to horrific civilian casualties.
As reprehensible as all this is, the Hindu zealots who staff Mr
Modi’s electoral machine complain that he has not done enough
to advance the Hindu cause (see Briefing). And public dissatisfaction
with his economic reforms has helped boost Congress,
the main opposition party, making the election more competitive
than had been expected. The temptation to fire up voters using
heated brinkmanship with Pakistan will be huge.
Mr Modi has made a career of playing with fire. He first rose to
prominence as chief minister of Gujarat when the state was
racked by anti-Muslim pogroms in 2002. Although there is no
evidence he orchestrated the violence, he has shown no compunction
about capitalising on the popularity it won him in Hindu-
nationalist circles. With a difficult election ahead, he may
think he can pull off the same trick again by playing the tough
guy with Pakistan, but without actually getting into a fight. However,
the price of miscalculation does not bear thinking about.
Western governments are pushing for a diplomatic settlement at
the un. If Mr Modi really is a patriot, he will now step back.
The armies of India and Pakistan often exchange fire across
the front line in the disputed state of Kashmir. When tensions
rise, one side will subject the other to a blistering artillery
barrage. On occasion, the two have sent soldiers on forays into
one another’s territory. But since the feuding neighbours tested
nuclear weapons in the late 1990s, neither had dared send fighter
jets across the frontier—until this week. After a terrorist group
based in Pakistan launched an attack in the Indian-controlled
part of Kashmir that killed 40 soldiers, India responded by
bombing what it said was a terrorist training camp in the Pakistani
state of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa. Pakistan retaliated by sending
jets of its own to bomb Indian targets. In the ensuing air battle,
both sides claim to have shot down the other’s aircraft, and
Pakistan captured an Indian pilot.
A miscalculation now could spell calamity. The fighting is already
the fiercest between the two countries since India battled
to expel Pakistani intruders from high in the Himalayas in 1999.
The initial Indian air raid struck not Pakistan’s bit of Kashmir,
but well within Pakistan proper and just 100km from the capital,
Islamabad. That, in effect, constituted a change in the rules of
engagement between the two (see Briefing). India and Pakistan
are so often at odds that there is a tendency to shrug off their
spats, but not since their most recent, full-blown war in 1971 has
the risk of escalation been so high.
The intention of Narendra Modi, India’s
prime minister, in ordering the original air
strike was simple. Pakistan has long backed terrorists
who mount grisly attacks in India, most
notably in Mumbai in 2008, when jihadists who
arrived by boat from Pakistan killed some 165
people. Although Pakistan’s army promised
then to shut down such extremist groups, it has
not. By responding more forcefully than usual to the latest outrage,
Mr Modi understandably wanted to signal that he was not
willing to allow Pakistan to keep sponsoring terrorism.
In the long run, stability depends on Pakistan ending its indefensible
support for terrorism. Its prime minister, Imran Khan,
is urging dialogue and, in a promising gesture, was due to release
India’s pilot—presumably with the approval of the army chief,
who calls the shots on matters of security.
But in the short run Mr Modi shares the responsibility to stop
a disastrous escalation. Because he faces an election in April, he
faces the hardest and most consequential calculations. They
could come to define his premiership.
Mr Modi has always presented himself as a bold and resolute
military leader, who does not shrink from confronting Pakistan’s
provocations. He has taken to repeating a catchphrase from the
film “Uri”, which portrays a commando raid he ordered against
Pakistan in 2016 in response to a previous terrorist attack as a
moment of chin-jutting grit. The all-too-plausible fear is that his
own tendency to swagger, along with domestic political pressures,
will spur him further down the spiral towards war.
The ambiguity of Mr Modi’s beliefs only deepens the danger.
He campaigned at the election in 2014 as a moderniser, who
would bring jobs and prosperity to India. But, his critics charge,
all his talk of development and reform is simply the figleaf for a
lifelong commitment to a divisive Hindu-nationalist agenda.
Over the past five years Mr Modi has lived up neither to the
hype nor to the dire warnings. The economy has grown strongly
under his leadership, by around 7% a year. He has brought about
reforms his predecessors had promised but never delivered,
such as a nationwide goods-and-services tax (gst).
But unemployment has actually risen during Mr Modi’s tenure,
according to leaked data that his government has been accused
of trying to suppress (see Finance section). The gst was
needlessly complex and costly to administer. Other pressing reforms
have fallen by the wayside. India’s banks are still largely in
state hands, still prone to lend to the well-connected. And as the
election has drawn closer, Mr Modi has resorted to politically expedient
policies that are likely to harm the economy. His government
hounded the boss of the central bank out of office for keeping
interest rates high, appointing a replacement who promptly
cut them. And it has unveiled draft rules that would protect domestic
e-commerce firms from competition from retailers such
as Amazon.
By the same token, Mr Modi has not sparked the outright
communal conflagration his critics, The Economist included,
fretted about before he became prime minister. But his government
has often displayed hostility to India’s
Muslim minority and sympathy for those who
see Hinduism—the religion of 80% of Indians—
as under threat from internal and external
foes. He has appointed a bigoted Hindu prelate,
Yogi Adityanath, as chief minister of India’s
most populous state, Uttar Pradesh. A member
of his cabinet presented garlands of flowers to a
group of Hindu men who had been convicted of
lynching a Muslim for selling beef (cows are sacred to Hindus).
And Mr Modi himself has suspended the elected government of
Jammu & Kashmir, India’s only Muslim-majority state, and used
force to suppress protests there against the central government,
leading to horrific civilian casualties.
As reprehensible as all this is, the Hindu zealots who staff Mr
Modi’s electoral machine complain that he has not done enough
to advance the Hindu cause (see Briefing). And public dissatisfaction
with his economic reforms has helped boost Congress,
the main opposition party, making the election more competitive
than had been expected. The temptation to fire up voters using
heated brinkmanship with Pakistan will be huge.
Mr Modi has made a career of playing with fire. He first rose to
prominence as chief minister of Gujarat when the state was
racked by anti-Muslim pogroms in 2002. Although there is no
evidence he orchestrated the violence, he has shown no compunction
about capitalising on the popularity it won him in Hindu-
nationalist circles. With a difficult election ahead, he may
think he can pull off the same trick again by playing the tough
guy with Pakistan, but without actually getting into a fight. However,
the price of miscalculation does not bear thinking about.
Western governments are pushing for a diplomatic settlement at
the un. If Mr Modi really is a patriot, he will now step back.
