In a geopolitical world where diplomacy often favors carefully coded language and vague overtures, India’s External Affairs Minister Dr. S. Jaishankar cut through the fog with startling clarity. Speaking at the Raisina Dialogue — India’s premier foreign policy and geostrategic conference — Jaishankar directly challenged the legitimacy and fairness of the global order established post-World War II, specifically highlighting the selective application of international norms related to sovereignty and territorial integrity.
His remarks may have ruffled feathers globally, but for many in India and parts of the developing world, they were long overdue.
“The attacker and the victim were put on par,” Jaishankar said, referencing the United Nations’ response to Pakistan’s invasion of Jammu and Kashmir in 1947. “After the Second World War, the longest-standing illegal presence, occupation of a territory by another country, pertains to India — what we saw in Kashmir.”
That statement wasn’t merely an opinion; it was a forceful indictment of a system that many believe has perpetuated double standards for decades.
At the core of Jaishankar’s argument lies a basic question: Why are some acts of aggression condemned, while others are diplomatically buried?
In citing the Kashmir issue, he pointed fingers — diplomatically, yet unequivocally — at a group of countries including the United Kingdom, the United States, Canada, Belgium, and Australia. These were some of the nations involved in the early United Nations Security Council (UNSC) deliberations following Pakistan’s 1947 invasion of Jammu and Kashmir. According to Jaishankar, these powers failed to differentiate between the aggressor and the victim, converting a clear case of cross-border aggression into a drawn-out political dispute.
The historical backdrop supports Jaishankar’s frustration. On October 26, 1947, Maharaja Hari Singh of Jammu and Kashmir signed the Instrument of Accession (IoA), legally bringing the princely state into the Indian Union. This decision followed a brutal invasion by Pakistani tribal militias backed by elements of the Pakistan Army.
What ensued was a humanitarian tragedy largely ignored by the West. Pakistani raiders committed widespread atrocities in Mirpur, Muzaffarabad, and other areas. In Mirpur alone, of the 25,000 residents, over 18,000 were killed in a three-day massacre from November 25 to 27. Reports also indicate mass rapes, abductions, and systematic ethnic cleansing.
The Pakistani assault had been organized in Abbottabad. It was no ragtag operation — it was a planned military maneuver led by Maj Gen Akbar Khan, under the alias “General Tariq.” Thousands of tribal militias armed by the Pakistani state moved with precision to capture territory.
India responded only after accession, but by then, large swathes of the region were lost. The United Nations intervened, but instead of compelling Pakistan to withdraw and restoring the Maharaja’s control over the whole state — as was India’s legal and moral claim — the global body called for a ceasefire and negotiations.
It was a move that institutionalized ambiguity.
Multiple scholars argue that the British played a shadowy and deeply cynical role. The narrative suggests that Lord Mountbatten, then Governor-General of India, and high-ranking military officials like Robert McGregor MacDonald Lockhart and Douglas Gracey colluded to delay or prevent India’s effective military response. At the time, the Indian and Pakistani armies still had British commanders at the helm.
As per this viewpoint, Britain may have sought to create a buffer — a semi-autonomous or Pakistan-controlled Kashmir — to serve its own strategic interests in Central Asia during the Cold War’s formative years. This alleged manipulation by the UK casts a long shadow over the United Nations’ impartiality in dealing with Kashmir.
History repeated itself in 1965. Pakistani soldiers and mujahideen infiltrated Indian territory in Operation Gibraltar. The United Nations Military Observer Group in India and Pakistan (UNMOGIP) documented this infiltration. The Secretary-General and the Security Council acknowledged the aggression and passed resolutions on September 6 and 20, urging a return to positions held before August 5.
However, these resolutions lacked teeth. Pakistan denied the infiltrations. India insisted the attackers be held accountable. The stand-off only underscored what Jaishankar now calls out: an international order where actions are routinely neutralized into disputes, even when there’s clear aggression.
Professor Rehmatullah Khan, a noted legal scholar, drew compelling parallels between the 1947 and 1965 events. In both cases, Pakistan launched covert military offensives under the guise of local uprisings. Both saw limited international accountability. In both, India was left to manage the consequences while global institutions wrung their hands.
India today has lost direct access to over 83,000 square kilometers of its own territory — 78,000 under Pakistan’s occupation and 5,180 illegally ceded by Pakistan to China under the 1963 Sino-Pakistan agreement.
Even more troubling is speculation that Pakistan is considering leasing Gilgit-Baltistan (an area of over 72,000 sq km) to China for 50 years, giving Beijing access to yet another strategic corridor.
India’s northwestern frontier, which once touched the Wakhan Corridor in Afghanistan, is now hemmed in by hostile or semi-hostile territories. The China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC), a flagship Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) project, runs directly through these disputed lands, further legitimizing Pakistan’s occupation through economic entrenchment.
At its founding, the United Nations was meant to prevent precisely the kind of aggression India faced in Kashmir. Article 2(4) of the UN Charter prohibits the use of force against the territorial integrity or political independence of any state.
Yet, these principles were diluted in India’s case. Rather than enforcing withdrawal, the UN mediated ceasefires and left “disputes” unresolved. The body’s inability to enforce its own observer reports — as in 1965 — further eroded its legitimacy.
Jaishankar’s criticism strikes at the core of this ineffectiveness. “A strong global order must have some basic consistency of standards,” he said. It’s not just about power — it’s about fairness.
Compare life in Indian-administered Jammu and Kashmir with Pakistan-occupied Kashmir (PoK) and Gilgit-Baltistan. The contrast is stark.
Sheikh Khalid, Secretary-General of the International Centre for Peace Studies, outlines in his book The Two Kashmirs that life expectancy, literacy rates, healthcare access, and per capita income are significantly higher in Indian-administered areas. In the so-called “Azad Jammu and Kashmir,” about 90% of the population lives in rural poverty, without basic public services.
The region’s political structure is also a façade. Since the 1970s, Islamabad has divided PoK into Azad Jammu and Kashmir (AJK) and Gilgit-Baltistan. AJK has a constitution, but its government operates under the thumb of a council chaired by Pakistan’s Prime Minister. Gilgit-Baltistan’s chief minister has minimal power; real authority lies with the federally appointed governor.
In 2009, President Asif Ali Zardari introduced a “Self-Governance Order” — a political band-aid with no real autonomy. Local voices, including those advocating for independence or merger with India, have been muzzled through legal and extrajudicial means.
Jaishankar’s critique comes at a time when global institutions are increasingly viewed as outdated or compromised. The UN Security Council’s structure, frozen in the 1945 framework, gives disproportionate power to a handful of nations. Countries like India, with a population of 1.4 billion and the world’s fifth-largest economy, have no permanent seat.
This structural imbalance fosters cynicism. Why should developing nations trust a system where aggressors are coddled and victims are silenced?
Whether it’s Russia’s invasion of Crimea, China’s actions in the South China Sea, or Pakistan’s occupation of Indian territory — the responses are often muted or mired in diplomatic double-speak.
The result? A credibility crisis that undermines the very purpose of international law.
Jaishankar’s remarks were not merely about Kashmir. They were about a wider call for justice, equity, and consistency in global governance. For decades, the Global South has contended with a world order written in Western capitals, enforced selectively, and interpreted to serve geopolitical interests.
In calling out the past, Jaishankar seeks to reclaim a future where India’s sovereignty is not a matter of negotiation, and where international institutions serve all — not just the powerful few.
The United Nations, in its current form, may not be capable of that transformation. But if more voices like Jaishankar’s join the chorus — from Africa, Latin America, Southeast Asia — the pressure to evolve will be impossible to ignore.
Dr. S. Jaishankar’s comments are not about nostalgia or grievance; they are about confronting an international system that has failed to deliver on its promise of equality, justice, and peace.
India’s top diplomat has pulled the curtain back on decades of diplomatic theater. His message is clear: The world needs a new architecture for peace — one that is principled, not performative.
