Following rising military aggression and increasing tensions between India and Pakistan, a ceasefire facilitated by the United States was announced on Saturday, May 10. This development came at a crucial moment, as the intensity of the situation had reached a dangerous high.
The escalation was triggered by a deadly terrorist attack in Indian-administered Kashmir late last month. What followed was a rapid intensification of hostilities: both nations launched missiles deep into each other’s territory, accompanied by drone assaults on military and civilian sites. As global fears of a full-scale war between the two nuclear-armed nations grew, the Trump administration stepped in, providing both countries with a path to de-escalation through diplomatic engagement.
The United States government succeeded in brokering a truce between India and Pakistan, securing a mutual commitment from both nations to engage in dialogue aimed at addressing their longstanding and deep-rooted conflicts. This ceasefire is not just timely—it is critical. Experts have long warned that the greatest risk of nuclear warfare exists in South Asia, largely because of the turbulent history between India and Pakistan, their nuclear capabilities, and the likelihood that one side may miscalculate the other’s intent and strike preemptively. In this context, negotiations are not optional luxuries but vital imperatives.
However, despite the ceasefire announcement, shelling has continued in the Kashmir and Punjab regions. While imperfect and tenuous, this ceasefire remains essential to preserving any semblance of peace.
For individuals with ancestral roots in both India and Pakistan dating back to the 13th century, the current state of conflict is personally devastating. This war has stirred deep sorrow for someone who holds immense love for the people on both sides of the border. “This conflict, which is happening about 7,000 miles away, has impacted my religion, as a Sikh, and my emotional and historical connections to Pakistan and India,” the author writes. India has a Hindu majority, while Pakistan’s population is predominantly Muslim. Yet, both countries are home to diverse religious minorities including Sikhs, Christians, Jains, Ahmadiyyas, and Buddhists.
So, how can people of faith contribute to lasting peace in South Asia? The author believes the answer lies in the hands of the faithful themselves.
Firstly, it’s important to acknowledge that the war was initiated not by the general populations of Pakistan and India, but by their respective governments and armed forces. Moving forward, people of faith need to actively resist what the author describes as the “patriotism of hate.” This term refers to the government-fueled belief that loving one’s country necessitates hatred toward the other’s people and religion. As the author explains, “Patriotism of hate is a term used to describe the narrative that to love India, you must hate Pakistan and its Muslim citizens, and to love Pakistan, you must hate India and its Hindu citizens.” This toxic mindset, legitimized through religious and nationalistic fervor, must be dismantled. In India, Hindus and Sikhs must confront Hindutva-driven nationalism, while in Pakistan, Muslims must reject the religious chauvinism that fuels animosity toward India.
Secondly, there is a dire need to stop the reckless calls for further warfare. Certain segments of Hindus and Muslims who urge their governments to go beyond border skirmishes and fully invade the opposing nation are, in effect, jeopardizing future generations. “I call on them to end this ‘olympics of suffering’ — a term used to describe the efforts to portray your suffering as worse than the other’s.” This attitude, rooted in comparative victimhood, only reinforces the cycle of violence. What is required instead is a greater sense of empathy—particularly among Indian Hindus and Pakistani Muslims—so that the pain and suffering on both sides are acknowledged and understood.
The third point the author emphasizes is the need for a shift in perspective among Indians. Based on extensive travels in both countries, the author has found that while Pakistani citizens often separate their criticism of India’s government from their feelings toward Indian people, many Indians do not make the same distinction when it comes to Pakistan. “In my observation, Indians are less likely to make a distinction between Pakistani people and the Pakistani government — both are conflated as enemies of India.” This lack of nuance hinders the possibility of reconciliation. “Without this change, a one-handed handshake between India and Pakistan is bound to fail.”
As a Sikh in the diaspora, the recent conflict placed the author in a painful religious dilemma. With sacred sites under threat on both sides of the border—Amritsar’s Darbar Sahib in India targeted by Pakistani attacks, and Pakistan’s Nankana Sahib hit by Indian strikes—the question of loyalty became especially agonizing.
The Sikh faith, founded by Guru Nanak in 1469 at Nankana Sahib in present-day Pakistan, is historically and spiritually tied to both India and Pakistan. Guru Nanak lived and died in what is now Pakistan, while the Fifth Guru, Guru Arjan Sahib, established the Darbar Sahib (Golden Temple) in Amritsar, India, in the 16th century. The 1947 Partition carved this spiritual geography in two, compelling many Sikhs to relocate from Pakistan to India and leaving behind over 250 Sikh religious sites, including Nankana Sahib and Kartarpur Sahib. While Indian Sikhs have had limited access to these places, members of the Sikh diaspora from the West now enjoy greater religious freedom to visit them.
So, how does the Sikh faith guide its followers in such a conflicted time? The Sikh scripture, Siri Guru Granth Sahib, contains a verse: “Recognize as brave the one who struggles for the weak and helpless.” This line offers clarity in the face of conflict.
Given the calculated military offensives initiated by both India and Pakistan, driven largely by domestic political agendas, neither nation can be considered weak or defenseless. India now possesses a significantly larger economy than Pakistan. But what makes this standoff particularly dangerous is that both are nuclear powers. In fact, one of the attacks that led to U.S. intervention struck alarmingly close to a nuclear site.
So who are the weak and helpless? The ordinary people of India and Pakistan. “The weak and helpless in this war are the people of India and Pakistan — and that is who I am standing up for.” In the face of such peril, it is these citizens—caught in the crossfire of nationalism and political maneuvering—who deserve protection and advocacy.
It is now up to the people of both nations to convert this fragile ceasefire into enduring peace. By rejecting divisive ideologies, embracing mutual compassion, and pursuing interfaith solidarity, the citizens of India and Pakistan can move toward a more hopeful and harmonious future.
