– Meenaz Bhanu
Margao, Goa
In the discussions that follow the screams of terror, the loudest sound today is not that of demands for justice, but of debates over religious identity. The tragic killing of innocent civilians in the Pahalgam terror attack should have unified the nation in grief and outrage. But instead, we find ourselves caught in an endless cycle of communal distractions: Were the victims Hindu or Muslim? Did the terrorists ask about religion before pulling the trigger?
It is deeply saddening to see social media flooded with arguments about communal identity instead of collective mourning or calls for justice. In this clamour, the real issue is being sidelined: A gruesome act of terror has occurred on Indian soil, and justice is yet to be served. Every second spent debating religious labels is a second stolen from the pursuit of accountability, truth, and healing.
Over the years, India has faced numerous terror attacks some from across borders, others from within. Each time, there’s a brief wave of unity, but it quickly dissolves into communal blame games. This time, the narrative has taken an even more disturbing turn: instead of mourning the loss of innocent lives, people are dissecting the event through the lens of religion.
Why should it even matter what faith the victims followed? Terrorism doesn’t differentiate between Hindu or Muslim, Sikh or Christian, child or adult. Its only aim is destruction. When we let ourselves get caught in this binary, we allow the terrorists to win not with bullets, but by dividing our hearts and minds. Whether it was a planned act to set a false narrative and divert attention from ongoing issues is a question that must not be ignored.
The Pahalgam attack should have been a turning point. Yet again, innocent blood has stained the soil of Kashmir. Families are devastated. Mothers have lost children. Children have become orphans. But what dominates headlines and hashtags? Whether or not the killers identified their targets based on religion.
This conversation is not only insensitive, it is deeply dehumanising. It strips the victims of their individuality and reduces them to communal statistics. Instead of standing with the bereaved, we are busy analysing their names and faiths.
As a society, we are dangerously close to normalising hatred and division. We are so conditioned to view everything through a communal lens that even terrorism the most inhuman of acts is being communalised. The question reportedly asked by one of the terrorists has taken the spotlight, overshadowing the reality that brothers of all faiths were killed.
The worst part? This isn’t just happening at the level of the masses. Media houses, influencers, and even some political figures are complicit in perpetuating these debates. Instead of demanding swift justice, we are letting ourselves be distracted by the oldest trick in the book: divide and rule.
Social media was once hailed as a tool for democratising voices. Today, it is a battlefield of ideologies, often devoid of humanity. The Pahalgam tragedy could have brought people together in solidarity. Instead, it has become yet another trending topic where religious faultlines are deepened, not healed.
What we need is empathy. What we need is awareness. What we need is a collective call to action not just online activism. But when even our outrage is filtered through religious identity, we are headed down a very dark path.
Terrorism should be tackled with the full force of the law without bias, without delay, and without discrimination. Justice must not wear the lens of religion. Every victim deserves dignity, regardless of their name or faith. Every family deserves closure. Every citizen deserves to live without fear.
The more we indulge in religious debates around such tragedies, the more we weaken the legal and moral fabric of our country. We must remember that justice is not just a legal right; it is a moral imperative.
Every terror attack must be condemned unequivocally. No “ifs” and “buts.” The death of innocent people should not be a tool to score political or ideological points. Instead of arguing along communal lines, we should demand answers from those in power: How did the attackers manage to strike? Where was the intelligence failure? What steps are being taken to bring the perpetrators to justice?
The victims are not statistics. They are people who had dreams, families, and futures. Let us remember their names for their humanity, not their religion. Media outlets must stop giving airtime to divisive voices. Sensationalism over substance has caused immense damage. Journalism must return to its roots: speaking the truth, holding power accountable, and giving voice to the voiceless.
It is time for civil society, religious leaders, and influencers to come together to heal not harm. India’s strength lies in its diversity and in standing united against all forms of extremism.
The real question is not what the terrorists asked before they killed. The real question is what we are asking ourselves after the killings. Are we asking for justice, or are we letting hatred guide our conversations?
Every time we fall into the trap of Hindu vs. Muslim, we lose sight of the common dream we all share: to live in peace, with dignity, and without fear. The families of the Pahalgam victims do not care about debates. They care about justice and they deserve it unconditionally.
It is said that the greatness of a nation is measured not by its wealth or power, but by how it treats its most vulnerable in times of crisis. Right now, India is being tested not by terrorists, but by its own people. Will we rise above our divisions, or will we let the victims become pawns in a never-ending war of narratives?
Let us choose humanity. Let us demand justice. Let us ensure that the voices of the dead are not drowned out by the noise of communalism.
