by Muhammad Mohsin Iqbal
In the shadows of geopolitics, history often repeats itself—not as a farce, but as a chilling reenactment with newer actors and familiar motives. Two events, separated by nearly six decades, echo each other with uncanny similarity; the attack on the USS Liberty in 1967 and the recent orchestrated Pahalgam-style drama in Indian-administered Kashmir that led to an unwarranted attack on Pakistan on 7 May 2025. Both events were allegedly designed not only to create a smokescreen over deeper failures but also to achieve specific military and political goals through manufactured crises.
On June 8, 1967, during the Six-Day War between Israel and several Arab nations, the USS Liberty, an American Navy intelligence-gathering ship, was sailing in international waters near the Sinai Peninsula. Clearly marked and unarmed for combat, the ship was brutally attacked by Israeli fighter jets and torpedo boats. The onslaught lasted over an hour and left 34 American servicemen dead and 171 injured. Despite clear visibility of the American flag and repeated identification signals, the assault continued with disturbing precision.
The ship’s survival against all odds was due largely to the courage and leadership of its captain, Commander William L. McGonagle. Despite being severely wounded early in the attack, he remained on the bridge, continuing to command the crew and maneuver the stricken vessel. His efforts, alongside the bravery of the crew, prevented the ship from sinking. McGonagle’s steadfast command under fire earned him the Medal of Honor — the highest U.S. military decoration — but in a highly unusual and controversial move, it was awarded in a private ceremony at the Washington Navy Yard, not at the White House, to avoid drawing public attention and diplomatic complications with Israel.
Survivors of the attack have long insisted that the assault was deliberate. One crew member, Petty Officer Ernie Gallo, stated, “There’s no way they didn’t know who we were. Our ship’s markings were crystal clear. We were betrayed.” Another survivor, Joe Meadors, declared, “It was murder. Cold-blooded murder.” These voices have never been silenced, even as official narratives attempted to bury the truth under diplomatic necessity.
Now, fast forward to May 2025. A similarly suspicious pattern unfolded. On 6 May, Indian media outlets began broadcasting sensational news of a “major terror plot” being foiled in Pahalgam, alleging that Pakistani-based militants had attempted to launch a suicide attack on an Indian Army convoy. The news was suspiciously timed, coming just weeks before the Indian national elections and amid growing domestic unrest over economic downturns, farmer protests, and widespread criticism of the central government’s authoritarian policies. Within 24 hours, without presenting concrete evidence or conducting any credible international investigation, the Indian government launched a unilateral aerial strike across the Line of Control, targeting what it called “terror infrastructure” in Pakistan.
What followed was a one-day but high-intensity war on 7 May 2025 between the two nuclear-armed neighbors. Pakistan retaliated swiftly and proportionately, shooting down several Indian aircraft. Dozens of soldiers and civilians lost their lives on both sides. But the consequences were even more severe internationally. South Asia stood on the brink of a nuclear catastrophe. Global leaders called for restraint, and while the Indian government tried to build a narrative of “pre-emptive self-defense,” neutral observers raised doubts about the legitimacy of the Pahalgam-style provocation.
The similarities between the USS Liberty incident and the 2025 Indian drama are striking. First, in both cases, the initial act—be it the attack on the Liberty or the alleged terror plot—was used to justify a disproportionate military response. Second, both incidents involved fabricated or distorted information being fed to the public and the international community. In the case of the USS Liberty, Israel claimed mistaken identity despite overwhelming proof to the contrary. In the 2025 case, India provided no forensic or independent verification of the so-called Pahalgam plot. Instead, state-controlled media was used to generate war hysteria that drowned out voices of skepticism.
Third, both incidents had strategic motives. Israel, in 1967, wanted to eliminate a witness and potentially drag the U.S. into its war. In 2025, the Indian ruling party appeared to be seeking electoral mileage by projecting a muscular national security image, diverting public attention from internal failures. The political benefits of military adventurism were clear in both cases.
Fourth, both attacks were launched against countries that were technically allies or at least not in active hostilities with the attacker. The USS Liberty was a U.S. vessel, attacked by a U.S. ally. Pakistan, in 2025, had been seeking regional peace and had offered several confidence-building measures, only to be met with aggression based on flimsy allegations.
Finally, in both incidents, the truth was buried under layers of diplomatic silence, media manipulation, and strategic obfuscation. The survivors of the Liberty attack spent decades seeking justice, only to be ignored by successive U.S. administrations that chose loyalty to Israel over accountability. Similarly, global powers and institutions today appear reluctant to question India’s narrative, lest they jeopardize economic and strategic partnerships.
Yet, these parallels also offer lessons. Manufactured crises, however cleverly executed, carry the seeds of long-term instability. The attack on the Liberty damaged trust between American servicemen and their political leadership, while the 2025 attack on Pakistan has reignited regional tensions that will not be easy to cool down. If the international community fails to learn from these dangerous precedents, the next manufactured war may not be as containable.
Both incidents—USS Liberty and the Pahalgam episode—serve as cautionary tales of what happens when truth becomes the first casualty of strategic deception. It is imperative for nations, especially in South Asia, to invest in transparent mechanisms of conflict resolution and to resist the temptation of using war as a tool for domestic political gain. Otherwise, history will continue to repeat itself, only with more tragic consequences.
