After the barbaric terrorist attack in Pahalgam, Bharat’s collective conscience hardened with resolve — Pakistan must be held accountable. The incident, though tragic, led to a remarkable show of unity. For the first time in recent memory, the outrage was not limited to the heartland. Even the Kashmiri public, long portrayed through a lens of complexity, stood firmly with the nation. So too did many of the usual suspects — the so-called secularist echo chamber — who, usually tight-lipped when patriotism peaks, chose silence over slander.
Bharat soon imposed restrictions on Sindhu waters and launched Operation Sindoor, a surgical strike deep into enemy territory. Conducted under the cover of night, security forces neutralised terror camps and returned without casualties. This audacious action electrified the nation.
Yet, in stark contrast to previous military actions such as the Balakot air strikes or the Uri surgical strikes — both of which were met with scepticism and political opportunism by opposition leaders — this time, there was an eerie silence. Congress leaders, leftist ideologues, and anti-establishment “intellectuals” were unusually subdued. When a few dared to comment, public backlash was swift and unforgiving.
However, some urban Naxals embedded within universities attempted to express disdain through sarcasm and satire. When news emerged that certain faculty had been dismissed or asked to explain their conduct, individuals like Sujatha Surepally, a professor at Satavahana University, were quick to issue apologies. Meanwhile, others took a more cunning route — praising the Army while subtly criticising the Modi government, a dual-faced strategy meant to disguise contempt as critique.
Because Operation Sindoor struck a chord with the Indian public, these habitual contrarians lacked the courage to speak freely. But after a brief pause, the same elements began to spew venom they had long suppressed. In Telangana, a Congress leader openly declared on television, “We like Pakistan,” a comment that outraged patriots. Instead of facing consequences, he was promoted to MLC.
In Khammam, a Tiranga Yatra was obstructed when some members of the Muslim community initiated a deliberate altercation. Shockingly, the police targeted those organising the rally instead of those who disrupted it. In Sangareddy, madrasa students vandalised a temple — a shocking event caught on CCTV. Astonishingly, the perpetrators were traced back to the Kishanganj region on the Bihar-Bangladesh border. The question remains unanswered: why are minors from distant states being brought to Telangana to study in madrasas?
Even after local BJP MP Raghunandan Rao publicly questioned the Telangana state DGP, there was no official response. These episodes show not only poor governance but also the wilful suppression of uncomfortable truths. None of the mainstream media outlets reported on meaningful punitive actions.
Once the guns fell silent post-Operation Sindoor, those who maintained strategic silence began venting their frustrations. The sudden outburst by these Pakistan and Rohingya sympathisers reveals the depth of the rot within. Hyderabad — once often linked to terror modules — is today labelled a “safe zone,” with no authority willing to explain this transformation.
Leftist parties and their intellectual allies now issue statements that openly sympathise with anti-national elements who threaten Bharat’s sovereignty and vow to rule under a separate constitution. These acts are perversely termed “peaceful dissent,” ignoring the well-documented presence of foreign ideological pressure behind them.
Take, for example, Operation Kagar. The criticism levied by left-leaning intellectuals and political parties against it is akin to locking the Constitution in a cage. Ironically, these are the same parties that once crushed Maoist insurgency in Bengal with an iron fist — a historical truth that cannot be erased.
When action was taken against Ashoka University professor Alikhan Mahmudabad for disgraceful social media posts regarding Operation Sindoor, he secured immediate bail through legal intervention. The question is: who had the influence to escort him straight to the Supreme Court and ensure such swift relief?
Similarly, how did Jyoti Malhotra — a YouTuber with over 3.85 lakh subscribers under the name ‘Travel with Jo’ — manage to spy for Pakistan, visit the country repeatedly, and maintain contact with Pakistani High Commission official Dani? Even intelligence agencies found her activities shocking. Following her arrest, 11 others were apprehended on similar charges, including Ghazala Yamin, Nauman Ilahi, Devender Singh, Karan Bir Singh, Mohammad Murtaza Ali, Armaan, Sukhpreet Singh, and Shahzad.
Bloomberg News reported that prior to Operation Sindoor, China provided Pakistan with satellite data and strategic military support to monitor Indian troop movements. During the operation itself, Punjab Police arrested Gagandeep Singh, who had leaked critical Indian Army information to Pakistan’s ISI. Singh had reportedly maintained contact with Khalistani separatist Gopal Singh Chawla for over five years.
Today, espionage in India wears many masks: journalists, YouTubers, social media influencers, and even self-proclaimed activists. Under the guise of freedom of speech, they gather sensitive data and publish it in public forums. This betrayal from within poses a national threat more severe than any border incursion.
Rahul Gandhi’s mocking remark “Narender Surrender” and his demand that External Affairs Minister S. Jaishankar “break his silence” only adds to the chaos. Such comments risk emboldening hostile forces. Meanwhile, a viral video showed a man delivering a cake to the Pakistan Embassy in Delhi just days after the Pahalgam attack. Intelligence reports later linked him to Jyoti Malhotra.
Her personal diary, expressing admiration for Pakistani hospitality, has become a symbol of how deeply some in India’s intelligentsia sympathise with a hostile neighbour. Similar sentiments are found in many publications, blogs, and social media accounts run by anti-national groups.
To conclude, the external threats can be neutralised with fighter jets. But how do we disarm the enemy within — those cloaked in civil liberties while serving foreign interests? That is the existential question confronting our democracy today.
Pakistan and China are well-known adversaries—defined by decades of hostility and open aggression. But as the late CDS Gen. Bipin Rawat rightly warned, India must be ready for a “two-and-a-half front war”: Pakistan, China, and the internal enemy.
This “half front” isn’t a vague threat. It lives among us—in classrooms, newsrooms, social media handles, and NGOs—camouflaged as activists, intellectuals, or influencers, but driven by agendas hostile to Bharat.
While our armed forces guard the borders, the responsibility to expose and neutralise the internal threat lies with us—the citizens. This cannot remain the concern of a few. It must become a national conversation. To fight the enemy within, we need awakened minds and fearless voices. The time to stay silent has passed. This is not just a war of weapons—it’s a war of will.
