India’s Terror Fight Undermined by Political Game
In the quiet village of Koiyaan, in Pakistan-administered Jammu and Kashmir, a spark of defiance flared on July 30, 2025, igniting a fire that could reshape the narrative of a region long scarred by conflict. The people of Koiyaan, their hearts heavy with grief, rose in righteous fury against Rizwan Hanif, a commander of the banned Jamaat-ud-Dawa, once known as Lashkar-e-Taiba. Hanif had come to pay respects at the funeral of Habib Tahir, a young man from their village, allegedly lured into militancy by his outfit and killed by Indian forces across the Line of Control (LoC). But the villagers, led by Tahir’s grieving family, would not be silenced. They confronted Hanif, their voices trembling with pain and anger, accusing him of dragging their youth into a deadly abyss. When his armed nephew brandished a firearm to intimidate them, the community’s rage erupted. They chased Hanif and his men out of Koiyaan, their jeers and cries for justice echoing through the valley. This was no mere outburst—it was a breaking point, a desperate plea from a community tired of burying its sons.
This raw courage in Koiyaan is a mirror to the pain felt across India, where families like Sunita Devi’s in Pulwama still carry the weight of loss. Sunita, a widow, lost her husband, a fruit vendor, to a 2001 marketplace bombing in Srinagar, leaving her to raise two children alone, haunted by memories of a life stolen by terror. In Anantnag, Razia visits her son Aftab’s grave, a schoolboy whose dream of becoming a doctor was snuffed out in a 2008 grenade attack linked to Lashkar-e-Taiba. In Chhattisgarh’s Dantewada, a mother mourns 12-year-old Meena, killed in a 2010 Naxalite ambush on a school van. These are not just stories—they are the scars of a nation betrayed by decades of soft policies that allowed militancy to thrive, emboldened by political indecision and appeasement. For too long, India’s hesitation left a trail of broken families, their dreams shattered by the violence of stone-pelting in Kashmir and Naxalite raids in the heartland, fueled by unchecked funding and ideological networks.
But today, a new dawn is breaking. The Central Government’s unwavering resolve has begun to heal these wounds. The dilution of Article 370 in 2019 was a seismic shift, choking the economic and ideological channels that sustained terrorism. Stone-pelting, once a daily menace in Kashmir’s streets, has vanished. The Naxalite threat, which claimed lives like Meena’s, has been crippled by relentless operations and financial crackdowns. Across the LoC, India’s response has been resolute. On May 7, 2025, Operation Sindoor obliterated nine terror camps in Pakistan and PoJK, a devastating blow to the architects of violence. On July 28, Operation Mahadev struck with surgical precision, eliminating three Lashkar-e-Taiba terrorists—Suleiman, Afghani, and Gibran—whose weapons, including AK-47s, an M4 carbine, and even Pakistani-made chocolates, were forensically linked to the April 22, 2025, Pahalgam attack that stole 26 innocent lives. Home Minister Amit Shah laid bare the evidence, a testament to justice delivered for families like Sunita’s and Razia’s, who have waited too long for closure.
Yet, in the hallowed halls of India’s Parliament, during the Monsoon Session of July 28–30, 2025, this hard-won victory was met with betrayal. Opposition leaders—Congress, Samajwadi Party, DMK—chose to tarnish the triumph with baseless accusations. Akhilesh Yadav, with a callousness that wounds every patriot’s heart, branded Operation Mahadev a “fake encounter,” questioning its timing as a political stunt. Rahul Gandhi accused the government of exploiting the operations for PR, dismissing the tears of families who finally saw justice. P. Chidambaram had the audacity to question whether the terrorists were Pakistani, suggesting they might be “homegrown,” a claim that parrots Pakistan’s narrative and insults the sacrifices of India’s soldiers. These words are not mere political posturing—they are a dagger in the hearts of those who have lost everything to terror.
When the villagers of Koiyaan can risk their lives to chase a militant commander from their midst, why do India’s opposition leaders falter? Their accusations of intelligence failures and calls for foreign mediation—leaning on unverified remarks by U.S. President Donald Trump—divert attention from the real enemy: terrorism. Prime Minister Narendra Modi and External Affairs Minister S. Jaishankar have made it clear: no foreign power dictated India’s actions. Pakistan pleaded for a ceasefire after Operation Sindoor’s devastating strike. Yet, The opposition’s rhetoric is politically driven and malicious. It seeks to sow doubts among the people. It seeks to undermine the morale of our forces and the trust of a nation yearning for security. Their words embolden the very forces India fights, betraying the memory of those lost to terror.
The courage of Koiyaan’s villagers, who now plan a jirga to shield their youth from militant recruiters, is a call to action for all of India. The nation has bled enough. The ghosts of Sunita’s husband, Aftab, Meena, and countless others demand more than political games—they demand unity. The Central Government’s iron fist has dismantled terror’s roots, drying up its funding, strengthening intelligence, and delivering justice through operations like Sindoor and Mahadev. This has given hope to families who have known only grief. But this hope is fragile when political parties prioritize vote banks over the nation’s soul.
As an Indian, I plead with the opposition: look into the eyes of Sunita, Razia, and the mothers of Dantewada. Hear the cries of Koiyaan’s villagers, who stood up to terror with nothing but their courage. Where are the stone-pelters now? Where are the Naxalites who once roamed free? They are gone, not through soft words or compromises, but through a resolve that refused to bend. The opposition’s role is to question, but not to weaken the forces that protect us. The security of our people must rise above petty politics. For every mother who lost a child, for every child who lost a parent, India must stand resolute. The memory of the fallen, and the future of our nation, deserve nothing less. Let us honor their sacrifice by choosing unity over division, courage over cowardice, and the nation’s heart over fleeting political gains.
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