By Qamar Bashir
It is often said that victory has many fathers, while defeat is an orphan. This timeless phrase was never more accurate than in the aftermath of the brief yet decisive war between Pakistan and India from May 5 to May 10, 2025. Unlike previous battles, this was not a victory proclaimed solely by Pakistan’s own narrative—but affirmed by Indian analysts, Western media, and global leaders. For the first time in decades, Pakistan stood tall on the global stage, not only as a victor in a military sense, but as a dignified and responsible actor in regional and global affairs.
The superiority of Pakistan’s kinetic response during the short war was overwhelming, not only in tactical execution but also in strategic restraint. That success has rekindled honor, pride, and confidence among the Pakistani people—qualities once buried under the weight of a long global narrative shaped by poverty, extremism, and political instability.
For years, Pakistani citizens traveling abroad—especially to Muslim-majority nations—were often received with caution or outright disregard. The legacy of terrorism, weak governance, and financial crises placed an invisible burden on every Pakistani passport holder. Even I, having traveled extensively and now living in the United States, felt the stigma. Saying one was from Pakistan often led to polite avoidance if they knew the name—or a complete lack of recognition if they didn’t. Both were equally damaging.
Today, Pakistanis arriving in Turkey, Saudi Arabia, China, or even distant African and Central Asian states are met with respect, recognition, and reverence. The May 2025 war, and Pakistan’s dignified response, elevated the nation’s image globally. Victory didn’t just secure territorial integrity—it repaired reputations, reversed perceptions, and rekindled pride.
On the other side of the spectrum lies India, whose myth of military superiority was crushed. The image of an emerging global superpower collapsed under its own arrogance and miscalculation. Despite commanding far greater economic and human resources, India failed to secure even a moral high ground in the conflict. This defeat, inflicted by a country it considered inferior, was not just military—it was psychological and diplomatic.
With its illusions shattered, India finds itself increasingly isolated. Once hailed as a strategic ally by the West, especially the United States and European powers, India is now being quietly distanced from. No longer is it the rising tiger of Asia; it is now a nation whose recklessness threatens regional stability. The ship of Indian ambition appears to be sinking—and many of its allies are already swimming toward Pakistan’s calmer shores.
For the first time in modern history, American leaders—from President Donald Trump to Senators Marco Rubio and Pete Hegseth—acknowledged Pakistan’s significance in shaping South Asia’s future. Trump publicly praised Pakistan’s technological innovations, including advancements in missile systems. He spoke positively about Pakistani leadership and vowed to strengthen trade relations. In diplomatic circles, Pakistan was no longer an afterthought—it became a priority partner.
This shift was not just about the war—it was about how Pakistan handled victory. No chest-thumping, no jingoism. Just quiet, composed strength. That restraint earned Pakistan credibility. And credibility, in diplomacy, is worth more than arms or trade deals.
This newfound confidence was visible in the conduct of Pakistan’s high-level diplomatic delegation visiting the United States and later Europe. Led by former Foreign Minister Bilawal Bhutto-Zardari, and joined by seasoned diplomats and parliamentarians including Hina Rabbani Khar, Khurram Dastgir, Musaddiq Malik, Sherry Rehman, and former foreign secretaries Jalil Abbas Jilani and Tehmina Janjua, the delegation projected a coherent and confident message.
Bilawal, in particular, struck a powerful tone at the Middle East Institute in Washington. Speaking with calm urgency, he warned that India’s latest decision to suspend the Indus Waters Treaty (IWT)—in the wake of the April 22 Pahalgam attack—was tantamount to laying the foundation for the first nuclear war over water.
“In the age of climate challenges, water scarcity and water wars were once theories,” he said. “India shutting off Pakistan’s water supply is laying the foundations for the first nuclear water war. We’ve said it before and say it again: cutting off our water is an act of war. We don’t say it with jingoism. We say it as a matter of existential threat.”
He was not exaggerating. The IWT is a cornerstone treaty, brokered with World Bank oversight in 1960, and has survived multiple wars. By unilaterally suspending it, India has crossed a red line. In response, Pakistan too has placed all bilateral agreements, including the Simla Agreement, in abeyance, shut down the Wagah border, and suspended trade.
But unlike the Indian leadership, Bilawal did not adopt a confrontational tone. Instead, he underscored Pakistan’s desire for dialogue, diplomacy, and peace—not just for its own sake, but for the prosperity of the entire region. “Surely, India and Pakistan working together can create that conducive environment in Kashmir where people can live free from oppression and suffocation,” he said.
He added, “This is not about damning our youth to endless wars—first over Kashmir, now over water. I refuse to damn the future generations of Pakistanis—and I bear no ill will to the people of India.”
His statements were echoed by other members of the delegation during meetings on Capitol Hill, where they met with lawmakers including Ilhan Omar, Jack Bergman, Tom Suozzi, and Ryan Zinke. They emphasized that sustainable peace depends on restraint, adherence to international law, and resolution of long-standing issues like Kashmir—not unilateralism and coercion.
Bilawal also thanked President Donald Trump for his role in de-escalating tensions and supporting ceasefire efforts, a diplomatic breakthrough not seen in years.
What makes this chapter in Pakistan’s history remarkable is not just the victory—it’s the humility, the dignified assertion, and the ability to convert a military success into diplomatic capital. Pakistan’s leadership is now being heard in London, Brussels, and Washington—not as a crisis nation, but as a nation with solutions.
And it all began with a war that Pakistan neither sought nor celebrated with arrogance. Victory was accepted with grace, and defeat dealt without mockery.
In just six days, the regional and global perception of power shifted. Pakistan, once seen as fragile, is now viewed as strategic, stable, and mature. India, once seen as the rising giant, now appears unsteady, aggressive, and cornered.
This is the power of responsible leadership. This is what victory can bring—a seat at the table, a voice in global forums, and most of all, the respect of allies and rivals alike.
Pakistan has been humbled by victory, and through this humility, it has won something far greater than a battlefield: diplomatic dignity. Meanwhile, India, abandoned by its allies and exposed by its own arrogance, is learning the hard lesson that power without wisdom leads not to greatness—but to isolation.
By Qamar Bashir
Press Secretary to the President (Rtd)
Former Press Minister at the Embassy of Pakistan to France
Former MD, SRBC
Macomb, Michigan, USA
