South Asia: Indian federal investigators have concluded that all three militants responsible for the April 22 attack near Pahalgam in Indian-administered Kashmir were Pakistani nationals affiliated with the United Nations-designated terrorist group, Lashkar-e-Taiba (LeT). The deadly assault on a group of tourists in the lush meadows of Baisaran, a hill station often dubbed the “Mini Switzerland” of Kashmir, left 26 people dead and scores injured, prompting nationwide outrage, international concern, and the specter of open conflict between India and Pakistan.
The Indian National Investigation Agency (NIA) made the explosive assertion in a statement released Sunday, saying that recent arrests had confirmed that the attackers were members of LeT—a group accused in the past of numerous high-profile terrorist attacks, including the 2008 Mumbai carnage. While the initial police sketches released shortly after the attack suggested two of the attackers were Pakistani and one a local Kashmiri, the NIA now says all three were foreign operatives.
Two local men have since been arrested for allegedly sheltering the attackers prior to the ambush. According to the NIA, these men “knowingly harboured the three armed terrorists at a seasonal dhol (hut) deep inside the forests of Lidder valley.” The NIA did not specify the date of the arrests, nor were any statements from the accused made public, as both remain in federal custody.
On April 22, what began as an idyllic spring day turned into a bloodbath when heavily armed militants opened fire on a group of domestic and international tourists hiking in the Baisaran region. The area, located just a few kilometers from the popular town of Pahalgam, is frequented by thousands of visitors annually for its alpine meadows and horse treks.
Witnesses described scenes of utter panic. According to police reports and survivor testimonies, the attackers fired indiscriminately using automatic rifles and grenades, targeting not just tourists but also local guides and porters.
“People were screaming, running in every direction. It lasted maybe 10 minutes, but it felt like forever,” said Aaliya Hussain, a tour operator who lost her brother in the attack. “There was no warning—just sudden, brutal violence.”
While no group immediately claimed responsibility, a shadowy militant outfit known as The Resistance Front (TRF)—believed to be a proxy for Lashkar-e-Taiba—initially took credit for the massacre in a brief statement circulated on encrypted messaging platforms. However, within days, TRF retracted its claim, saying it was “not responsible for any attacks on non-combatants.”
The confusion around the perpetrators’ identity only deepened public anxiety and raised questions about possible foreign involvement—suspicions that now appear confirmed with the NIA’s findings.
Even before the NIA’s declaration, the Pahalgam massacre had set off a chain of political and military escalations unprecedented since the 2019 Pulwama-Balakot episode. Then, as now, India blamed LeT-backed operatives from across the border for the deaths of its citizens and responded with force.
Within a week of the attack, on April 28, India unilaterally revoked the 1960 Indus Waters Treaty—a landmark water-sharing agreement brokered by the World Bank and seen for decades as a rare model of India-Pakistan cooperation. The move shocked international observers and was perceived in Islamabad as a direct affront.
In retaliation, Pakistan announced its withdrawal from the 1972 Simla Agreement, a cornerstone bilateral accord signed after the Indo-Pak war that emphasized peaceful resolution through dialogue and mutual respect for the Line of Control in Kashmir.
By early May, tensions reached a fever pitch. On May 7, the Indian Air Force launched air and missile strikes targeting what it called “terror infrastructure and launchpads” in both Pakistan and Pakistan-administered Kashmir. The Indian Ministry of External Affairs released satellite images purportedly showing militant training camps operated by Lashkar-e-Taiba in the Neelum Valley, Muzaffarabad, and areas near the Line of Control.
Pakistan swiftly denied that any such camps existed and accused India of violating its sovereignty. In response, Islamabad launched its own drone and missile sorties, claiming to have targeted Indian “military installations responsible for aggression.” While both sides reported minimal damage and denied civilian casualties, local residents along the border told a different story: destroyed homes, displaced families, and the haunting sound of shellfire echoing across the valleys.
As the two nuclear-armed neighbors appeared to lurch toward another full-scale war, the international community scrambled to intervene. On May 10, after days of shuttle diplomacy involving envoys from Washington, Beijing, and Riyadh, U.S. President Donald Trump made a surprise announcement: a ceasefire had been agreed upon by both sides “in the interest of regional peace and global stability.”
Though details of the ceasefire deal remain classified, insiders suggest the U.S. played a pivotal role in urging restraint, using a mix of economic incentives and diplomatic pressure. The United Nations Secretary-General Antonio Guterres welcomed the truce but called for an independent investigation into the Pahalgam massacre, warning that “unanswered grievances are fertile ground for future violence.”
So far, neither India nor Pakistan has agreed to international mediation.
Pakistan has yet to formally respond to the latest NIA findings. Earlier, its Foreign Ministry had flatly denied any involvement in the Baisaran attack, calling it “an Indian fabrication designed to malign Pakistan and deflect attention from internal unrest in Kashmir.”
However, Islamabad’s silence in the face of new evidence is already being interpreted in India as tacit admission of culpability. “The facts are irrefutable,” said Indian Home Minister Amit Shah in a fiery statement to Parliament. “These were not just foreign terrorists—they were Pakistani nationals, trained, armed, and sent across the border to massacre innocent civilians. We will not rest until justice is delivered.”
India’s position has found support among several key allies. France, Japan, and Australia have issued statements condemning the attack and expressing solidarity with India’s counter-terrorism efforts. The United States, while urging restraint, acknowledged the NIA’s findings and called on Pakistan to “take immediate and transparent steps to prevent future cross-border terrorism.”
In the wake of the attack and ensuing military escalation, life in Kashmir—already precarious—has become even more uncertain. Following the April attack, security forces conducted sweeping operations across the Valley. Thousands of young men were detained for questioning, many of them without formal charges. Internet shutdowns, curfews, and intensified patrols became routine.
In south Kashmir’s Anantnag and Pulwama districts, locals report an atmosphere of fear and repression. “People are being picked up at midnight. There’s no accountability,” said a civil society activist who spoke on condition of anonymity. Human rights organizations, both local and international, have expressed concern over the scale of the crackdown.
Meanwhile, tourism—a lifeline for Kashmir’s economy—has collapsed. Bookings for the Amarnath Yatra pilgrimage and summer vacations have dropped by more than 80%. “We were just beginning to recover from the 2019 lockdown and the pandemic. Now this,” lamented Faizan Mir, a hotelier in Srinagar.
The broader geopolitical implications of the Pahalgam massacre and its aftermath are far-reaching. With the Indus Waters Treaty in tatters and the Simla Agreement rendered obsolete, two of the most durable institutional frameworks for India-Pakistan engagement have collapsed. This leaves the region dangerously unmoored from any formal conflict-resolution mechanisms.
China, which has a vested interest in regional stability due to its Belt and Road projects in Pakistan and border tensions with India, has urged both countries to “recommit to dialogue.” However, Beijing’s credibility is strained in New Delhi due to its support for Pakistan and military posturing in Ladakh.
Russia, historically a close ally of India but increasingly aligned with China, has remained largely silent. The European Union has offered to mediate, but both India and Pakistan have reiterated their long-standing position of bilateral resolution—despite actions that suggest otherwise.
As of late June, the three perpetrators of the Baisaran massacre remain at large, though the NIA says they are “likely hiding in the higher reaches of south Kashmir or may have crossed back into Pakistan.” Intelligence agencies believe the trio may be part of a larger sleeper cell activated for high-impact strikes aimed at derailing peace in the region.
Meanwhile, political analysts warn that the temporary ceasefire may be just that—temporary. “This isn’t over,” said Dr. Ashok Mehta, a former Indian Army general and strategic affairs expert. “The underlying fault lines are deep. Until there’s structural reform, trust-building, and third-party verification, we are always just one attack away from the next war.”
The Baisaran attack has become more than a tragic footnote in Kashmir’s long and bloody history—it has emerged as a potential pivot point in South Asian geopolitics. With both India and Pakistan now entrenched in narratives of betrayal and victimhood, the prospects for de-escalation appear dim. What remains clear is that without mutual accountability and a genuine commitment to peace, the people of Kashmir—caught between militants and militaries—will continue to suffer the consequences of a conflict not of their choosing.
