Who Owns the Narrative? Rethinking the Pahalgam Attack through a Civilisational Lens

 

Dr. Asis Mistry

The recent terror attack in Pahalgam, Kashmir, which claimed 26 innocent lives—mostly Hindu tourists from across India—has reignited debates far beyond the tragic loss of life. The attack has fractured public discourse, not just along communal lines but across ideological divides, offering a potent case study of Samuel Huntington’s Clash of Civilizations thesis. Huntington argued that the post-Cold War world would be shaped less by ideological struggle and more by cultural and civilizational fault lines. In India today, this conflict is no longer hypothetical—it is playing out in blood, rhetoric, and narrative warfare.

Civilizational Identity and the Clash with Islam

In his influential work, Huntington described Islam as a civilisation with "bloody borders," involved in a disproportionate number of global conflicts. The Pahalgam attack, allegedly carried out by Pakistan-backed Islamic terrorists, is emblematic of this pattern. The victims were primarily Hindu pilgrims, tourists, professionals, from Maharashtra, Gujarat, West Bengal, Karnataka, and even a Navy lieutenant from Haryana. Their murder was not random; it was a deliberate act designed to provoke fear among a particular civilisational group: Hindus.

This attack follows a disturbing trend. Whether it's the 2008 Mumbai attacks, the 2001 Indian Parliament attack, or the 2016 Uri and Pathankot incidents, Islamic extremism has consistently targeted India’s symbolic and civilian core. The pattern is unmistakable. Islamic radical groups like Jaish-e-Mohammed and Lashkar-e-Taiba, which operate with impunity from Pakistan, routinely justify their violence in religious terms. They aim to disrupt India's pluralist ethos and challenge its growing assertion of a Hindu cultural identity under the BJP regime.

While it is politically sensitive to admit, Huntington’s framing compels us to view these acts not merely as terrorist incidents but as eruptions in a broader civilizational fault line between Islam and Hinduism.

Hindu Civilisation and Its Unique Fault Lines

Yet, unlike most civilisations in Huntington’s model, Hindu civilisation is uniquely fragmented. It is internally fissured by caste, region, language, and competing ideologies. These internal cleavages have created a fertile ground for what can be described as a “pseudo-secular” counter-narrative—a narrative that deflects from civilizational realities and instead projects the violence inward, often blaming the state, the army, or the government.

This was visible in the immediate aftermath of the Pahalgam massacre. Social media posts circulated widely, suggesting that the attack was a failure of intelligence, a political ploy by the BJP, or a pre-election stunt. Instead of mourning the victims or condemning the ideology behind the attack, many commentators chose to accuse the state of complicity or incompetence. They questioned the timing (with elections near), the absence of security forces, and even implied a Hindutva conspiracy.

What explains such reactions? The answer lies in Hindu civilizational identity. Unlike Islam or Christianity, Hinduism lacks a centralised clerical authority or universalist doctrine. Its pluralism is both its strength and its vulnerability. It allows for multiple narratives, but also enables the proliferation of self-negating ideologies. The Hindu Left, liberal intelligentsia, and pseudo-secular elements have internalised an aversion to civilizational self-assertion, often equating it with fascism or majoritarianism.

Narrative Wars: Three Competing Frames

In the context of the Pahalgam attack, three dominant narratives have emerged:

1. Islamist Apologia: This narrative, often echoed by certain Muslim voices and sympathetic left-liberals, deflects blame from the terrorists to the policies of the Indian state. It argues that the rise of Hindutva provokes such attacks, thereby rationalising jihadist violence as political resistance.
2. Hindu Majoritarianism: In contrast, another narrative paints all Muslims as complicit. It feeds into a siege mentality among Hindus and demands collective punishment. While this narrative recognises the civilizational conflict, it risks alienating innocent Muslims and oversimplifying the problem.
3. Pseudo-Secular Deflection: This is perhaps the most intellectually dishonest narrative. It insists that "terrorism has no religion" and blames intelligence failure, not ideological motives. This narrative obscures the religious identity of the attackers and their victims to maintain a secular veneer.

These narratives aren’t just discursive. They shape public policy, electoral outcomes, and social cohesion. In this narrative battleground, Huntington’s insight proves prescient: civilisations define themselves by what they are not, and conflict arises when these identities clash.

The Economic Fallout: A Civilizational Undercurrent

The Pahalgam attack also had immediate economic repercussions. Tourism—the backbone of Kashmir's economy—took a direct hit. Flight fares to Srinagar dropped by as much as 63%, and nearly 85% of travel bookings were cancelled within 48 hours. Such economic disruptions are not collateral damage; they are central to the terrorists’ goals. By targeting Hindu tourists, they aim to sever the civilizational ties between the Indian mainland and Kashmir, reinforcing the Islamist claim that Hindus are outsiders.

The loss of income for Kashmiri traders, hoteliers, and guides—many of whom are Muslim—illustrates another layer of tragedy. Islamic terrorism not only deepens the Hindu-Muslim civilizational divide but also destabilises intra-Islamic economic cooperation. This again aligns with Huntington’s idea of fault lines, but with the added complexity of intra-civilizational contradictions.

Reimagining the Civilizational Frame

The Pahalgam attack is a painful reminder of the enduring power of civilizational narratives. Huntington's thesis offers a useful lens to understand the macro patterns of identity-based conflict, but it should not be the sole prism through which we respond. While it helps diagnose the fault lines, it does not provide a blueprint for healing.

If we are to move forward, we must not harden these civilizational lines but learn to cross them. Recognising a clash does not mean we must be resigned to perpetual division. Instead, it calls for a deeper reckoning with how historical grievances, political opportunism, and ideological blind spots contribute to conflict.

Rather than polarising ourselves into binaries—Hindu vs. Muslim, secular vs. communal—we must see the whole: the complex, entangled reality of contemporary India, where multiple identities coexist, overlap, and often contradict. True civilisational strength lies in the ability to bridge differences, not merely defend borders.

This moment demands empathy without naivety, strength without aggression, and above all, a narrative that aspires to integration rather than exclusion. Only then can we move from clash to conversation, from suspicion to solidarity, and from fear to a shared future.

 

@ The author is Faculty, Department of Political Science, University of Calcutta