y constructing their adversary as the other, both India and Pakistan reinforce their sense of self and national identity; yet in doing so, they also perpetuate a cycle of conflict and hostility.
These distorted narratives are deeply rooted in historically sedimented biases—long-standing grievances, ideological differences and political agendas—that shape how each country perceives the other. Rather than fostering mutual understanding, these grand narratives justify aggression and militarisation, creating a political environment in which diplomatic reconciliation becomes difficult.
Lyotard and Said provide essential insights into how narratives operate not just as tools of cultural expression, but as powerful instruments of political control and ideological domination. In the case of India and Pakistan, the use of grand narratives about victimhood, heroism and betrayal serves to obscure the complex realities of their relationship and to justify continued political and military action.
To move beyond this cycle, we must embrace micro-narratives—stories that allow for complexity, nuance and the voices of those who have been historically marginalised in the official discourse. This can enable a more inclusive and constructive dialogue, not only between India and Pakistan but also in the broader South Asian context.
Hayden White’s theory of historical narrative as emplotment reminds us that even accounts that seem objective and factual, such as military reports and historical timelines, are not devoid of narrative construction. White argues that history is never a mere recounting of events; rather, it is an interpretive process where historians actively organise events into a coherent story. This process of emplotment involves selecting certain events and framing them in specific narrative structures—like tragedy, comedy, or romance—to give them meaning.
In both India and Pakistan, history is not recorded in neutral, unbiased terms. Textbooks, speeches and media coverage in both countries are replete with selective narratives that shape how the public perceives the past. Major events are often framed in ways that produce desired emotional and political effects, such as fostering national pride, reinforcing victimhood or justifying militarisation.
Historical events like the Partition of India, wars with each other and the Kashmir conflict are presented through highly polarised lenses, where one side is the hero and the other the villain. This selective plotting of events can distort historical realities and create a narrative that serves a political agenda. In this way, the line between history and propaganda becomes increasingly difficult to distinguish. The facts are manipulated, whether consciously or unconsciously, to suit the political needs of the moment, making narrative construction an integral part of how history is written and understood.
Benedict Anderson’s concept of imagined communities offers another critical lens through which we can understand the formation of national identities. Anderson suggests that nations are not natural, pre-existing entities but rather social constructs—imagined communities that are held together by shared narratives and symbols. These narratives, Anderson argues, need not be true in the literal or empirical sense. What matters is that they are believed by those who are part of the community. National identity is, therefore, sustained through collective storytelling, which provides a sense of shared destiny and purpose.
In the case of India and Pakistan, the rivalry between the two nations is deeply rooted in the trauma of Partition. This historical is the cornerstone of national identity for both countries and continues to shape the political narratives and ideologies of the two nations. For India, the story of independence and the triumph of the nation contrasts with the story of Muslim betrayal. In Pakistan, the Partition is framed as the birth of a Muslim homeland, accompanied by a narrative of victimhood and injustice.
These national stories bind citizens together by creating a common sense of shared history. They also obscure the diversity of lived experiences across regions, communities and individuals. The Partition, as an event, may be understood differently by people living in the Punjab, Bengal or Kashmir. Yet the grand narrative forces a common understanding of the event that leaves little room for alternative viewpoints or the complexity of human experience.
Cynthia Weber’s and David Campbell’s work on narrative and state identity deepens our understanding of how foreign policy and national security are often less about pursuing objective interests and more about storytelling. As both these scholars argue, states use narratives to define and justify their actions on the global stage. The narrative becomes the vehicle through which a state asserts its identity, whether that identity is constructed through a narrative of victimhood, strength or exceptionalism.
For both India and Pakistan, political legitimacy is reinforced through narratives of existential threat, particularly in relation to each other. Each state portrays the other as not merely an adversary but as a threat to its very existence, sometimes framed as a danger to civilisation itself. This narrative of threat allows for the mobilisation of resources for national defence, justifies militarisation and plays a central role in foreign policy decisions.
In such a context, falsity is not seen as a flaw of the narrative; in fact, it can be its most essential feature. National security discourse, for instance, often thrives on over-simplified portrayals of threat—where the nuances of a complex geopolitical situation are ignored. Instead, emotional appeal and rhetoric are used to rally the population around the cause of national defence.
Scepticism towards official narratives becomes a luxury that both India and Pakistan cannot afford, as their very national identities and survival are framed by these constructed stories of conflict and security. On the global stage, narratives play a crucial role as a mechanism of soft power and diplomatic leverage. Soft power, as defined by Joseph Nye, refers to the ability to shape the preferences of others through attraction rather than coercion.
States craft and promote certain narratives to influence international opinion and further their diplomatic objectives. For example, India might frame itself as the world’s largest democracy, positioning itself as a beacon of democratic values. Pakistan might emphasise its status as a victim of terrorism and highlight its fight against extremism. International audiences—from governments to NGOs to global citizens—are often swayed by these selective narratives that focus on themes such as democracy, victimhood, terrorism or regional stability.
In the realm of international politics, verifiability—the question of whether a story is strictly factual—often matters less than the emotional resonance of the narrative. Narrative coherence, the way in which a story holds together and makes sense to an international audience, is a more important factor in shaping diplomatic outcomes. In arenas like the United Nations, global media and social media platforms, competing stories and national narratives vie for legitimacy. The dominance of a particular narrative—whether it’s about a country’s commitment to peace or its right to self-defence—can shape global perceptions and determine international support or condemnation.
Narrative building in the context of India and Pakistan is not merely a way of recounting the past or explaining the present. It is a powerful tool of political influence, identity construction and foreign policy. These national narratives transcend the pursuit of truth and focus instead on creating emotional connections with audiences, framing the stakes of the rivalry in terms that justify military action, diplomatic manoeuvring and ongoing conflict.
Whether these narratives are based in fact or not is less important than their ability to unify people, mobilise power and legitimise the state’s policies both at home and on the global stage. The narratives are not just a method of communication—they are a powerful technology of meaning-making. They shape identity, legitimise power and obscure or reveal truth depending on how they are wielded. In the India–Pakistan confrontation, the battle of narratives has not only accompanied political events—it has also shaped them. To understand this conflict, we must investigate not only what is said but also how and why it is said and whose interests the narratives ultimately serve.
(Concluded)
The writer is a professor in the Faculty of Liberal Arts at the Beaconhouse National University, Lahore.
