Ceasefire or Mirage? Bharat-Pakistan Truce Tested by Terror, Trust, and Tensions

Paromita Das
GG News Bureau
New Delhi, 13th May: In a region long defined by tension and distrust, the announcement of a ceasefire between Bharat and Pakistan in May 2025 sparked a glimmer of cautious hope. For a moment, it felt like a collective breath had been held and then slowly released across South Asia. Yet that breath barely escaped before another round of violence shattered the illusion. This cycle – ceasefire declarations followed by violations and blame games – is not new, but this time, the stakes felt even higher. The recent exchanges marked the most intense escalation between the two nuclear neighbours since the Kargil conflict of 1999. The renewed urgency for peace is no longer just a diplomatic nicety; it is a geopolitical necessity.

The importance of this ceasefire cannot be overstated, even if its foundation seems fragile. Brokered with significant pressure and facilitation from the United States, it demonstrates the limits of bilateral trust. That New Delhi and Islamabad could not come to such an agreement independently reveals how deeply the mistrust runs. And yet, the agreement still matters. It matters because the cost of conflict is being paid in blood and broken lives. In four days of hostilities, 66 civilians lost their lives, many of them women and children. Each casualty represents not only a human tragedy but also a diplomatic failure.

Pakistan’s role in igniting this conflict, beginning with the brutal terrorist attack on Hindu pilgrims in Pahalgam, continues to complicate any honest peace initiative. The ceasefire, agreed upon shortly after Bharat launched retaliatory strikes under Operation Sindoor, seemed to reflect a broader understanding that escalation was unsustainable. But Pakistan’s immediate breach of the truce revealed that its signature on a ceasefire agreement is not always backed by strategic sincerity. Bharat’s restraint – even after attaining tactical dominance – is a testament to its commitment to regional stability, but that restraint must not be mistaken for weakness.

The utility of ceasefires lies not just in stopping bullets but in creating political space. For that, more than silence on the battlefield is needed. There must be sustained, sincere engagement. This includes activating direct military hotlines, enhancing transparency through verifiable mechanisms, and creating secure back-channel diplomacy insulated from the pressures of public posturing. Dialogue is essential, but dialogue must be based on accountability. Bharat cannot afford to return to the table while Pakistan continues to deny its sponsorship of terror groups like Jaish-e-Mohammed and Lashkar-e-Taiba, whose footprints are now irrefutably tied to recent attacks.

What complicates the equation is the performative nature of Pakistan’s peace rhetoric. The claim of merely offering “moral support” to Kashmiris loses credibility when drones, missiles, and heavily armed infiltrators cross borders. The pattern is painfully familiar. First comes an unprovoked attack, then a disavowal of involvement, and finally a call for talks. This cycle is neither sustainable nor acceptable. Until Pakistan dismantles the infrastructure that enables such attacks, dialogue becomes not a peace-building exercise but a tactical pause.

Still, military options, however justified, cannot be the default mechanism for conflict resolution. Surgical strikes and aerial bombardments can send a message, but they cannot replace policy. Peace requires planning. It requires leadership that sees beyond the next election and toward the next generation. For both nations, the costs of this confrontation extend far beyond the Line of Control. Both economies are teetering, both societies face deepening polarisation, and both are vulnerable to the global climate and resource crises.

In this context, sustaining the ceasefire is not merely about avoiding war. It is about reclaiming the future. For Pakistan, it means making a hard choice between supporting terror proxies and achieving economic and diplomatic stability. For Bharat, it means asserting its red lines without becoming ensnared in a never-ending retaliatory loop. The recent joint press briefing by Bharat’s Army, Navy, and Air Force was an extraordinary demonstration of resolve and unity. It signaled to the world that Bharat can act decisively and in coordination. But true strategic strength is also measured by the ability to de-escalate without compromising national security.

The future of this ceasefire – and indeed of any lasting peace – depends on the courage to lead differently. Not just through rhetoric or retaliation, but through sustained engagement rooted in realism. Trust will not be rebuilt overnight. But neither will it emerge from a battlefield.

In conclusion, this ceasefire represents more than a pause in hostilities; it is a test. A test of maturity, of vision, and of willpower. If Bharat and Pakistan can use this fragile window to institutionalise peace through protocols, deterrents, and transparency, the region may yet find its footing. But if the silence is once again used as cover for the next provocation, then South Asia risks falling into a pattern of permanent instability. Ceasefires, like peace, must be earned and upheld – not just declared.

Until then, every explosion in Kashmir, every funeral in Punjab, every evacuation in border towns, will remind us that the cost of failed diplomacy is always paid by those who can least afford it. Peace is the only path forward. The time to protect it is now.