Beyond Capability The Sustainability Question in Reclaiming POJKGB

Seventy-eight years after Partition, the call to reclaim Pakistan-Occupied Jammu, Kashmir, and Gilgit-Baltistan (POJKGB) resurfaces with renewed urgency. The question, however, is no longer whether India can reclaim these territories. The real question is: can we sustain them?

This is not a matter of sentiment or symbolism. It is a matter of strategic foresight, demographic realism, and governance preparedness.

1. Military Capability Is Not the Issue

India’s armed forces are among the most experienced in high-altitude warfare. The Kargil conflict, surgical strikes, and sustained counterinsurgency operations in Kashmir have demonstrated operational readiness. Most recently, Operation Sindoor India’s decisive multi- domain retaliation following the Pahalgam terror attack showcased the country’s ability to execute precision strikes across land, air, and sea. The operation neutralized key Pakistani assets, demonstrated tri-service coordination, and reaffirmed India’s capacity to act under the nuclear shadow. If the objective were purely military, India could act. But military success is only the beginning. Sustainable integration demands far more: civilian infrastructure, political legitimacy, economic rehabilitation, and long-term security stabilization. These are not short-term wins they are generational commitments.

2. Demographics Have Shifted Irreversibly?

Over the past seven decades, the population in POJKGB has undergone systematic demographic engineering:

- Displacement of original Dogra, Shia, and non-Muslim communities

- Radicalization through madrasa networks and ideological indoctrination

- Erosion of cultural and linguistic ties with Jammu and Kashmir

Reclaiming territory is one thing. Reclaiming hearts and minds especially those raised under anti-India narratives is another. Any reintegration effort must grapple with the psychological and generational alienation that now defines the region.

3. Governance Vacuum and Institutional Absence

Unlike Indian-administered Jammu and Kashmir, POJKGB lacks:

- Panchayati Raj institutions

- Independent judiciary

- Transparent electoral systems

- Civil society frameworks

India would need to build governance from scratch not just administratively, but socially and culturally. This is not a plug-and-play exercise. It requires deep state capacity, sustained investment, and a patient, participatory approach.

4. Diplomatic and Strategic Calculus

A military move would not go unnoticed. China, a stakeholder in Gilgit-Baltistan via CPEC, would react. So would the Islamic world and Western powers invested in regional stability.

India must weigh:

- The risk of two-front escalation

- Potential economic sanctions or diplomatic isolation

- The long-term reputational cost of perceived aggression

The smarter path may lie in diplomatic assertion, information warfare, and supporting internal dissent not tanks and troops.

5. Reframing the Narrative: From PoK to POJKGB

The term “PoK” is reductive. It erases the distinct identities of Jammu, Kashmir Valley, and Gilgit-Baltistan each with its own history, grievances, and strategic value.

A more accurate framing Pakistan-Occupied Jammu, Kashmir, and Gilgit-Baltistan (POJKGB) is not just semantic. It is a strategic necessity. Precision in language reflects precision in policy.

Conclusion: The Real Test Is Not War, But What Comes After India’s claim over POJKGB is legally sound and militarily feasible. But reclaiming territory is not the same as reclaiming people. The real challenge lies in winning minds, rebuilding institutions, and sustaining peace.

This is not a sprint. It is a marathon of statecraft, storytelling, and strategic patience.

The question is not can we, but should we and how...

The Sultanate of Stability: A Personal Reflection

Between 2013 and 2018, I had the privilege of living in what I call the Sultanate of Stability. In a region often defined by spectacle, rivalry, and turbulence, this nation stood apart. While its neighbors dazzled with flamboyance, wrestled with conflict, or competed for dominance, the Sultanate chose a quieter path — one of steadiness, balance, and quiet strength.

My life there was modest, and perhaps that modesty was a gift. I traveled in shared taxis, squeezed between strangers who never felt like strangers for long. I also took the buses, where the journeys were slower, but the conversations more lingering — workers, students, and families all moving together in a rhythm that felt communal rather than transactional. These rides revealed the pulse of ordinary life, stories of work, family, and hope told with a simplicity that made me feel part of something larger.

I wandered through the souq not as a tourist but as a commoner, bargaining for spices, dates, and fabrics alongside locals. The souq was not a performance for outsiders; it was a living, breathing marketplace where tradition carried on in its natural rhythm.

Yet my experiences were not limited to the everyday. I also stepped into the polished lobbies of upmarket hotels and sat beneath the grand arches of the opera house. What struck me was how little the people changed across these settings. In many societies, wealth and status alter behavior — the more the money, the more distant the manner. But in the Sultanate of Stability, I found a rare constancy. Whether in a crowded bus, a shared taxi, or a chandelier-lit hall, the warmth of the people remained the same: welcoming, friendly, and unpretentious.

This, I came to realize, was the essence of the Sultanate’s governance and culture. Outsiders might see a closely monitored system, but those who lived within it experienced a society where oversight was balanced by welfare, where tradition coexisted with modernity, and where safety was not a slogan but a lived reality. It was a place where leadership transitions were carefully managed, where long-term visions were pursued with discipline, and where the social contract was honored in practice.

All of this unfolded against the backdrop of a restless neighborhood. To the north, the Kingdom of Glittering Towers dazzled with its flamboyance, chasing global attention through spectacle. To the west, the Land of Endless Strife struggled with fragility, its people caught in cycles of conflict. To the east, the Dominion of Commanding Thrones projected dominance through wealth, influence, and power. And yet, in the midst of these extremes, the Sultanate of Stability endured as an oasis — not by accident, but by deliberate choice.

Its story is not one of spectacle, but of quiet strength. And for me, those five years were not just a chapter of residence in a foreign land, but a lesson in how stability, humility, and balance can shape both governance and daily life.

Purposeful Inclusion and the Pressures on Young Minds

“Father, is gender something you can just decide, like picking a shirt?”

The boy’s question was innocent, but it carried the weight of a global debate. The father paused, then chose to answer not with abstractions, but with stories.

He spoke of Ardhanārīśvara, the union of Śiva and Pārvatī. This was not a curiosity, he explained, but a symbol of balance—showing that creation itself requires both masculine and feminine energies. The purpose was cosmic harmony, not confusion.

He then told the story of Śikhaṇḍī in the Mahābhārata. Born female, later transformed into a male warrior, Śikhaṇḍī’s change was not whimsical. It was necessary to bring down Bhīṣma, who had vowed never to fight a woman. The transformation served justice, resolving a moral deadlock.

Finally, he spoke of Viṣṇu as Mohinī, a form assumed not for identity’s sake, but as a strategy to outwit the asuras and protect the nectar of immortality.

The boy listened carefully. He realized that in these stories, transformations were never ornamental. They were purposeful. They upheld dharma, restored balance, and resolved dilemmas that rigid binaries could not.

The father concluded: “Our tradition has always acknowledged diversity, but with context, purpose, and balance. It never asked children to decide their gender before they even understood their own bodies. It showed that identity can be fluid, but always in service of something greater—justice, balance, or truth.”

Beyond the Conversation

This is where the dialogue ends. But as adults, we must reflect on forces shaping young minds today—forces that cannot be part of a child’s conversation, yet weigh heavily on society.

• Pharma companies: What was once a cautious, therapeutic approach to gender dysphoria has, in some contexts, shifted toward medicalized pathways—puberty blockers, hormones, surgeries. These interventions, once rare, are now marketed more aggressively, creating lifelong dependencies. Vulnerable children risk being nudged into irreversible choices before they have even understood their own biology.

• School curricula: In the name of inclusivity, gender identity is being introduced at very early ages. While the intent is noble, the framing can overwhelm children who are still learning the basics of their own bodies. Instead of nurturing curiosity and patience, curricula can unintentionally push premature decisions.

• Social media: Platforms amplify identity debates in ways that are often performative. Algorithms reward extremes, peer pressure magnifies confusion, and children are exposed to global narratives without the maturity to filter them. For many, likes and shares become substitutes for genuine self understanding.

• Freely available adult content: With a few clicks, children encounter distorted portrayals of intimacy and gender roles. These images shape expectations before they have had a chance to form healthy, age appropriate understandings of relationships and identity.

Together, these influences create a powerful ecosystem that can push children into premature decisions, long before they are developmentally ready.

Closing Reflection

India’s civilizational ethos offers a different path. The Itihās and Purāṇas remind us that identity shifts are not about rushing children into choices, but about purposeful inclusion—where diversity serves balance, justice, and truth.

The real task before us is not to erase diversity, but to dignify it with wisdom and responsibility. As leaders, educators, and parents, we must ensure that inclusion is rooted in dignity, not in markets, algorithms, or imported binaries. Only then can we protect young minds from premature pressures and guide them toward a future where identity is not a burden, but a source of strength.