What has shifted in South Asia?

The attack in Pahalgam in India-Occupied Kashmir on April 22, 2025, which left over two dozen tourists dead, reignited a dangerous and all-too-familiar cycle between India and Pakistan.

Within days, the Subcontinent once again found itself on the edge. India launched ‘Operation Sindoor’ on May 6-7, a calibrated but high-stakes military response. Pakistan, in turn, retaliated with speed and precision, targeting Indian military infrastructure, downing (by its count) six aircraft, and jamming communications in what it named ‘Operation Bunyan-um-Marsoos.’ The confrontation lasted less than four days, a total of 87 hours to be exact, but its tempo, tools and messaging left lasting questions in its wake.

What unfolded over those 87 hours was not a familiar script with familiar outcomes. This time, Pakistan seized the initiative in the retaliatory phase. Operation Bunyan-um-Marsoos was not an ad hoc operation — it was a calculated, real-time demonstration of multi-domain readiness.

From jamming Indian Intelligence, Surveillance and Reconnaissance (ISR) platforms, to striking key logistics nodes and downing Indian aircraft, the operation showed a level of preparedness and composure not typically associated with Pakistan in past crises.

Perhaps most significantly, Pakistan’s restraint did not appear as weakness but was conveyed as strategic messaging. The response was strong enough to restore deterrence but calibrated enough to avoid triggering international panic. In this narrow corridor between war and nuclear escalation, Pakistan walked the line with unprecedented confidence.

As the immediate crisis gave way to uneasy calm, one question lingered: did Pakistan simply get lucky this time or are we witnessing a deeper shift in the balance of power in South Asia? Was this a tactical episode that played out differently by chance, or does it signal the arrival of a new strategic normal?

Crises between India and Pakistan are not new. Over the past two and a half decades, the region has seen its share of escalatory spirals from Kargil (1999) to Pulwama (2019). But this one was different. The pace of escalation was faster. The weapons were more precise. The domains of conflict had expanded, no longer just air and land, but also space, cyberspace, and the contested arena of narrative warfare.

And most strikingly, the international alignments felt more visible. China’s role, long influential behind the scenes, appeared increasingly pronounced. The United States, though still central to de-escalation, found itself navigating a new kind of strategic entanglement, where its support to India now risked unintended signals to both Islamabad and Beijing.

This article explores whether the May 2025 crisis should be seen as a pivot to changing power dynamics in the region or merely a pattern replayed with more modern instruments. More importantly, it asks what this evolving configuration means for the next crisis which, in this part of the world, is never a matter of if, but when.

BEFORE THE CRISIS: AN UNEVEN STRATEGIC TERRAIN

Even before the Pahalgam attack and the military exchanges that followed, South Asia was navigating a strategic terrain that had grown more uneven and uncertain. For decades, the region’s security architecture has been shaped by asymmetry — economic, military and political.

India, with its larger economy, rapidly expanding defence budget and increasingly global partnerships, has long overshadowed Pakistan in conventional terms. Yet, despite that imbalance, Pakistan has managed to maintain strategic relevance and deterrence, drawing on a combination of nuclear capability, geostrategic location and carefully managed alliances.

Since the nuclear tests of 1998, the deterrence equation between India and Pakistan has held, albeit under immense strain. Time and again, from Kargil to Balakot, the threat of nuclear escalation has acted as a ceiling on conflict. The two states have developed a tense but enduring rhythm: conventional skirmishes flare up, diplomatic channels strain, and then restraint, however reluctant, prevails. But the nature of that restraint has evolved. What once relied on mutual caution is now mediated by shifting doctrines, new technologies, and increasingly public signalling.

In recent years, India has visibly moved away from a purely reactive stance. Its embrace of doctrines such as ‘Cold Start’, its willingness to conduct “surgical strikes”, and its articulation of pre-emptive retaliation strategies mark a deliberate shift toward escalation dominance. The message has been clear: India will not wait to be hit first.

Pakistan, by contrast, has traditionally emphasised deterrence through the threat of swift retaliation, its nuclear doctrine implicitly suggesting low thresholds for use in the event of an existential threat. But this posture, once seen as rigidly reactive, has begun to adapt. By 2025, Pakistan was no longer merely absorbing shocks. It was preparing to respond with precision, manage escalation within thresholds and shape strategic outcomes without defaulting to brinkmanship.

In this evolving landscape, both sides appeared to have internalised a new baseline — a mode of engagement where escalation could be sharp but controlled, and where high-tempo shorter conventional operations could occur under the shadow of nuclear deterrence.

The May 2025 crisis did not create this environment, but it revealed it clearly. For the first time, both India and Pakistan operated within this compressed, high-risk battle space, not as reluctant participants, but as actors testing the edges of a new, more volatile normal.

PAHALGAM AND ITS POLITICAL SHOCKWAVES

At the time Pahalgam happened, the Modi government, already deep into its third term, was navigating a volatile mix of internal dissent, regional tensions and a media environment primed for confrontation. Public outrage over the Pahalgam attack was immediate and visceral, intensified by a hyper-nationalist media ecosystem.

For Prime Minister Narendra Modi, long cast as the embodiment of decisive leadership under the banner of Hindutva, the path forward was as much about optics as it was about deterrence. The result was Operation Sindoor, a cross-border military campaign unprecedented in scope since the Balakot strikes of 2019. But Sindoor differed in both design and intent.

One of the subtler dynamics of Operation Sindoor was India’s decision to deploy Rafale fighter jets, acquired from France as part of its ongoing modernisation push. While their use in the strike package was tactically sound, given their range, precision and electronic warfare capabilities, it also carried symbolic weight. Their deployment raises an important question: was India speaking only to Pakistan, or also sending a message across its northern frontier?

Given that the Line of Actual Control (LAC) had seen tension with China since 2020, the signalling becomes harder to ignore. By showcasing a platform specifically designed to counter Chinese air defences and operate in the Himalayan terrain, India may have been asserting more than escalation dominance in the west. It may have been reassuring its public and warning Beijing that it can now conduct simultaneous, high-tech engagements on both fronts.

If so, the messaging was layered: a demonstration of political will to act, military capacity to escalate, and technological readiness to operate in a two-front scenario, even if briefly.

Yet, such signalling carries risks. In using Western platforms visibly against Pakistan, India not only invited strategic scrutiny from Beijing but also made itself more vulnerable to proxy contestation, where performance in South Asia becomes a proxy metric for broader defence partnerships. Whether this was part of deliberate choreography or the natural by-product of India’s evolving force posture remains open to interpretation. But the signal was sent, and it was not confined to one border.

SHIFT OR FLUKE? REVISITING THE STRATEGIC EQUATION

Was Pakistan’s performance during the May 2025 crisis a one-off, or did it signal a deeper shift in the region’s strategic balance? There is a growing case to be made that what we witnessed was not just tactical success, it was the beginning of a new strategic reality.

Pakistan’s ‘Operation Bunyan-um-Marsoos’ marked a significant doctrinal evolution in Pakistan’s retaliatory playbook. For one, the Pakistani military did not just respond, it anticipated the Indian military offensive. Reports suggest that military exercises held prior to the conflict simulated precisely this kind of escalation, indicating a military apparatus that had begun adapting in advance of India’s evolving posture. The response was not reactive in the usual sense, but was pre-emptively calibrated. That kind of doctrinal maturity does not appear overnight.

During the May crisis, Pakistan mounted a coordinated, multi-domain response: it unleashed precision drone strikes against Indian logistics convoys across the LoC (Line of Control), deployed advanced electronic warfare (EW) systems — reportedly jamming Indian communications and destabilising UAV (unmanned aerial vehicle) control links — especially near the Siachen-Drass sector, and sustained intense counter-battery artillery fire across key stretches of the LoC, notably around Poonch and Rajouri.

Unconfirmed signals intelligence assessments later pointed to temporary disruptions in Indian satellite relay networks over Punjab, likely a product of synchronised EW activity and anti-satellite jamming. Rafales flying into electronically disrupted airspace were no longer symbols of unchecked power, but part of a more complex and more vulnerable calculus.

Pakistan ran a parallel information campaign, pre-emptively releasing high-resolution imagery of successful strikes, intercepts and pilot ejections. Narratives were seeded in real time across regional and global media, reinforcing an image of control, precision and proportion. India’s attempt to frame its strikes as counterforce was quickly drowned out by Pakistan’s curated feed of battlefield facts and military briefings.

Islamabad’s diplomatic offensive followed suit. The Foreign Office coordinated synchronised outreach to key capitals Beijing, Ankara, Tehran and Riyadh, emphasising Indian belligerence against a restrained, responsible neighbour. By the time third-party mediators mobilised, Islamabad had already shaped the global narrative. The United States scrambled to broker the ceasefire, leaning on its relationships with both New Delhi and Islamabad to restore calm, framing its intervention as a choice between trade over trouble, and stability over escalation in a region too volatile to gamble with.

To make sense of this evolving power balance, we need to look beyond bilateral capabilities and consider the broader strategic chessboard. India, for all its military ambitions, continues to grapple with structural vulnerabilities. A two-front war remains a real concern for India, especially with persistent pressure along the LAC from China. Moreover, India’s heavy reliance on externally supplied ISR [Intelligence, Surveillance and Reconnaissance], precision munitions, and logistics networks makes sustaining a prolonged high-intensity campaign increasingly dependent on third-party support.

Pakistan, by contrast, operated from a posture of readiness rather than desperation. It demonstrated that it could conduct multi-domain warfare, signal red lines, and control the pace of escalation, all without breaching the nuclear ceiling. That alone marks a departure from past crises, where Pakistan’s posture was either overly defensive or dangerously ambiguous.

Notably, both sides kept nuclear signalling muted. There were no overt references to thresholds and no visible movement of nuclear-capable forces. Yet the shadow of mutual destruction hovered over every decision. This restraint may have contributed to a more manageable sense of escalation but that is precisely what makes the next crisis more dangerous. In the absence of bilateral crisis communication mechanisms, if actors begin to believe they can manage high-tempo conflict under the nuclear shadow, the risks of miscalculation grow.

And then, almost quietly, came the most under-appreciated shift of all: China’s emergence as a visible stakeholder in South Asian stability. While the United States remained involved in de-escalation, as it has historically, Beijing stepped into a more public role, one that can no longer be dismissed as peripheral. This crisis may not have been choreographed by China, but it certainly did not unfold outside its strategic gaze.

CHINA’S STRATEGIC CALCULUS: FROM PATRON TO PLAYER

China’s presence during the May 2025 crisis had more than subtle undertones. For perhaps the first time in an Indo-Pakistani stand-off, Beijing’s role was not confined to the margins. Whether by design or by circumstance, its visibility increased and, with it, indications of a broader strategic shift.

Pakistan’s use of Chinese-supplied UAVs or drones, jamming systems and electronic warfare platforms during the crisis appeared to offer Beijing, intentionally or not, a low-risk window into how its technology performs under pressure. It is difficult to say whether this was opportunistic validation or part of a premeditated effort but, either way, the result was instructive. Through Pakistan’s battlefield, Chinese platforms were seen, and likely measured, in a live operational environment.

The timing also coincided with growing US-China friction. While Beijing may not have actively sought this crisis, it almost certainly recognised its signalling value. A conflict in which Chinese systems engage, even indirectly, with Western-equipped Indian forces, becomes a proxy rehearsal of sorts particularly at a moment when tensions persist in the Taiwan Strait and South China Sea. These dynamics do not necessarily mean the crisis was welcomed in Beijing, but it would be naïve to assume that its implications went unnoticed.

There is also a geopolitical dimension that is harder to ignore. China’s longstanding interest in keeping India strategically preoccupied on its western flank is well documented. With unresolved friction in Ladakh, any Indo-Pak crisis naturally dilutes India’s focus and force posture along the LAC. Whether China actively encouraged events or simply leveraged their momentum, the net effect served to reinforce its own deterrence framework vis-à-vis India.

Economically, China’s interests were even more straightforward. Success of the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC) is critical for China. A destabilised Pakistan or a protracted Indo-Pak conflict could upend years of investment. From that perspective, China’s support — political, technological or military — might be viewed less as an ideological alliance with Pakistan and more as pragmatic risk management.

But what was arguably most surprising was the public tone Beijing adopted. Chinese state media outlets ran editorials praising Pakistan’s restraint and competence. Some even published technical assessments of the platforms involved. It is difficult to say whether this messaging was centrally orchestrated or simply part of a broader mood, but its visibility marked a shift. At the very least, it suggested that Beijing was comfortable with being associated with Pakistan’s battlefield performance.

Ultimately, whether China’s increased involvement was carefully curated or circumstantial, the effect was the same: South Asia became a proving ground not only for drones and jammers, but for perceptions of Chinese strategic reliability. It is too early to say whether this signals a permanent change in Beijing’s posture toward the region. But in May 2025, the boundary between silent stakeholder and visible actor blurred and the rest of the world took notice.

SOUTH ASIA AS PROXY THEATRE: A DANGEROUS EVOLUTION

One of the more troubling takeaways from the May 2025 crisis is the quiet emergence of South Asia as a proxy battleground in the broader contest between global powers.

While no official statements confirm it, the pattern is difficult to ignore: Indian forces operating with Western-supplied platforms and ISR support, Pakistan fielding Chinese UAVs, radar-jamming suites, and electronic warfare capabilities. What once may have been a bilateral contest is now layered with the hardware, doctrines and strategic instincts of far larger rivalries.

This is not to suggest that either Washington or Beijing actively seek such a collision through their regional partners. In fact, both may view direct entanglement in South Asian crises as more risk than reward. But intent is not always what drives escalation. Structures, alignments and procurement patterns are increasingly pushing South Asia into a matrix of indirect strategic confrontation. What plays out between India and Pakistan on the battlefield now carries with it echoes of Taiwan, the South China Sea, or the broader Indo-Pacific contest.

The concern here is less about overt control and more about embedded exposure. As India leans further into Western military partnerships, deepening intelligence cooperation, acquiring precision strike platforms, integrating missile defence systems, it draws Washington further into its crisis equation. Similarly, as Pakistan diversifies its military modernisation through Chinese platforms and satellite systems, its operational outcomes become tacit indicators of Chinese reliability and reach.

That makes future crises more than just flashpoints between two nuclear neighbours. They are increasingly becoming test-beds not only for deterrence dynamics, but for great power signalling and strategic messaging.

The India-Pakistan deterrence equation is no longer insulated or purely dyadic, it is embedded within what I have conceived as a nuclear tetraplex: a cascading strategic chain, where US-China great power rivalry sets the tempo, India absorbs its momentum through military modernisation and assertive doctrine, and Pakistan, positioned at the tail end, absorbs second-order effects in both capability pressures and crisis risk.

In this framework, each actor’s choices reverberate across the chain. Washington faces a persistent dilemma: how to strengthen India as a counterweight to China without emboldening it to escalate recklessly in the Subcontinent, and how to deter Pakistan without undercutting the very stability it claims to support.

Beijing, for its part, must weigh its desire to signal strategic alignment with Pakistan against the risk of appearing to sponsor escalation in a nuclear theatre. For both great powers, South Asian crises are no longer regional issues; they are strategic mirrors, reflecting the limits of external influence and the risks of entanglement in a compressed battle space.

In such an environment, deterrence must be reconceptualised not as a bilateral balancing act but as a multi-layered system of pressures, alignments and risk calibrations, where the traditional logic of stability is constantly reshaped by external forces.

The danger is not that South Asia becomes the primary theatre of a great power rivalry. It is that it becomes the most unpredictable one, where miscalculation, crisis compression, and digital disinformation shorten decision windows, and where escalation is no longer bounded by geography. A drone strike in Kashmir may soon have implications for satellite posture in East Asia or diplomatic signalling in the Gulf.

This is a dangerous evolution. A region long known for its own instability is now absorbing the momentum of external rivalries. And that shift demands a recalibration, not only from India and Pakistan, but from the powers increasingly entangled in their shadow.

TOWARDS A PRECARIOUS EQUILIBRIUM

The May 2025 Pahalgam crisis did not yield a decisive military outcome for either India or Pakistan. There was no clear victory in conventional terms, no territory gained, no grand strategic objective achieved. Yet, something shifted. It was not just missiles and drones that moved; it was perception, posture and power balance.

Pakistan demonstrated, perhaps for the first time in years, that it could absorb deep precision strikes and respond across multiple domains — air, cyber, information — without unravelling or escalating to the nuclear brink. The carefully measured tempo of its counter-response suggested a shift from reactive fury to controlled assertion. For many observers, this alone was a recalibration.

India, in turn, discovered the limits of escalation dominance. While it showcased impressive first-strike capabilities, including stand-off munitions and rapid ISR integration, it also encountered contested airspace, information disruption, and a diplomatic landscape that did not tilt entirely in its favour. Escalation, even when planned and precision-limited, came with reputational and operational trade-offs.

And then there was China. Long perceived as a silent presence in South Asian crises, whispering behind diplomatic doors or nudging narratives through statements, Beijing in this crisis made its presence felt more openly. Whether through technology integration, messaging in state media, or quiet diplomatic backing, China stepped out from the wings on to the stage. It did not take the lead role, but it made clear that the script in South Asia can no longer be written without its input.

What emerges from all this is not a new equilibrium in the traditional sense, but a more precarious kind of balance, one in which military capabilities, strategic perceptions, and alliance structures all require constant adjustment. There is no settled deterrence architecture here. Each crisis resets the terms. Each escalation redefines what is thinkable, and what is not.

The question, then, is no longer whether South Asia has changed. It has. The real question is whether its actors — India, Pakistan and, increasingly, China — have internalised the implications of that change. Have they understood that fast wars in a compressed battle space require slower political thinking? That technological superiority does not guarantee escalation control? That proxies and alignments carry risks as well as leverage?

If those lessons hold, there is still space for restraint, for a doctrine of deliberate stability, even under pressure. But if those lessons are ignored or misread, the region may not stumble, but sprint into the next confrontation, only this time with more firepower, more entanglements, and fewer off-ramps.

South Asia’s crises were once regional in consequence. That era is over. The next one may remind the world just how global this theatre has quietly become.

The writer is the Dean Faculty of Social Sciences at the University of Lahore, Pakistan, and is a Visiting Scholar at the Harvard Kennedy School.

She can be reached at rabia.akhtar@csspr.uol.edu.pk. X: @Rabs_AA